Chapter 3

Three

Seven weeks later…

S he was going to be sick. Cordelia placed a hand on her roiling belly and made haste for the chamber pot. Heaven help her. She knelt on her bedchamber floor as she cast up her accounts. She could no longer deny that something was amiss.

She wiped her mouth with an embroidered handkerchief, then sat back on her heels. Her mind roamed back to that day in Nathaniel's library. The day she'd given herself to him. Her cheeks flamed at the delicious memory before her stomach churned anew.

Dear Lord, could she be carrying his child?

Cordelia searched her mind, trying to recall the last time her courses had come.

They hadn't. Not since before she'd made love to Nathaniel. Her mind raced, counting the weeks. Eight, nine. She hadn't bled in nearly nine weeks. Her body went weak at the realization.

Dear God, she was going to be sick again.

Cordelia bent over the chamber pot, her head spinning, heart racing, and stomach-churning. What on earth was she to do?

She was going to be a mother.

Nathaniel was going to be a father.

She gripped the sides of the chamberpot. Her parents were going to kill her!

Cordelia could already hear her mother's sobs. Her father's anger. They would say, "four seasons, you had four seasons to make a proper match. You had so much potential, but you threw it all away and ruined yourself. This is how you repay us for all we've done for you?"

They would be furious. She certainly would not receive any support from them. Cordelia sighed and closed her eyes. She had enough to fret about. She'd not add her parents' reactions to the pending storm.

Cordelia had long ago accepted she would be a spinster. She was looking forward to the day she could leave her parent's home and embark on her own life. Though she did not know what that life would look like now. She only knew that she still wanted it.

She certainly could not remain with her parents.

Mother meant well, but was far too overbearing and meddlesome. She was often cruel as she ‘guided' Cordelia through life. Father, mostly, could not be bothered with her. Cordelia was nothing more than an inconvenient daughter at worst and a fancy decoration at best.

She blew out a slow breath, then rose to her feet and moved to the mirror. Mother often blamed Cordelia's lack of traditional beauty and feminine skills for her unsuccessful seasons. The words were hurtful, even though Cordelia did not believe them.

Cordelia had long thought her mother's ways scared off potential suitors. In her first season, there had been a couple of gentlemen who took an interest in her. But, when mother started pushing for marriage offers, the gentleman seemed to back away.

The harder mother pressed, and the more she shoved Cordelia into the path of eligible men, the fewer men paid attention to her. No one had ever offered for her—save for a lord three times her age.

Father was livid when Cordelia turned down the proposal. He did not care that the lord was old enough to be her grandfather. Not when he had a lofty title and overflowing coffers.

None of that mattered now. There would be no more offers, and she was thankful for it. Mother, too, would cease her meddling. Though Cordelia was sure to hear some cruel words first. She flinched, knowing that Mother would give her a proper dressing down when she discovered Cordelia's condition.

If she really was carrying Nathaniel's child.

Father would no doubt call her awful names and accuse her of bringing disgrace on the family. Never mind that his affairs were an endless source of gossip. Father flaunted his mistresses with no regard for how his behaviors shamed and embarrassed Mother and her. In Cordelia's opinion, his behavior provided another reason for suitable gentlemen to avoid her.

She pulled her chemise over her head and let it drop to the floor. Then stared into the long cheval glass near her vanity table. Splaying her fingers over her abdomen, she studied at her reflection.

The gentle curve of her stomach had not changed, nor were her breasts any fuller. Still, her menses had not come, and she found herself sick every morning. Seven weeks had passed since Nathaniel bedded her. Perhaps she was not far enough along to notice changes?

Something was definitely amiss, and pregnancy was the only thing that made sense. A tiny glimmer of hope sprang to life in her heart.

Cordelia had always dreamed of being a mother. She'd shoved the dream to the back of her mind and buried it beneath new visions of an independent life. None the less, her previous dreams remained in the recesses of her mind.

She smiled as she stared at her abdomen and imagined a baby growing inside her. A little cherub with her blue eyes and Nathaniel's curly blond hair. Would they have a son or a daughter?

It did not signify. Either way, she would protect and cherish the child—if there was a baby. She had to find out for sure. One way or the other, she had to know.

Cordelia needed a physician. It would be the only way to confirm her suspicions and decide what to do about the future. But she could scarcely summon the family doctor. She needed to see a physician that did not know her—one that would not report back to her parents—or Nathaniel.

A sense of hopelessness pierced her heart as she pulled her chemise over her head. Gathering her resolve, she rang for her maid.

Nothing was lost. In fact, she had everything to gain. A child to love and protect. Cordelia could be a mother. Once she knew for sure there was a child, she would figure out how to proceed.

Nathaniel had not asked for a baby. He'd not even set out to bed her. She could go to him. Could tell him her suspicion, but she knew how that would end. She would not trap him in an ill-fated union. More importantly, Cordelia would not sentence her child to grow up in a loveless home.

Her baby. She smiled—a child all her own to love and protect. The thought sent her heart soaring, and she knew that somehow, someway, everything would be well.

But she needed help.

Two hours later, Cordelia sat in Celia's parlor sipping tea. Just as Celia had predicted, the pair of them had become fast friends. Celia knew about Cordelia's tryst with Nathaniel. If anyone could help her, it would be Celia.

Cordelia waved away the sweetmeat Celia offered. "I couldn't eat it if I wished to," she said.

"Why ever not?" Celia arched a speculative brow.

Cordelia warmed all over, embarrassment and unease rocking her to the core. Summoning all of her courage, she held her friend's gaze. "I suspect I am increasing."

Celia's blue eyes went wide, her gaze shifting to Cordelia's belly. "You must marry him."

"No." Cordelia shook her head.

"But—" Celia said before Cordelia cut her off.

"I do not know for sure, and even if it is so, I will not force us all in to a miserable existence."

"Oh, that again." Celia sat her teacup down, her brow furrowed. "How can you be so sure that a life with Lord Wolverton would be miserable?"

"He does not love me," Cordelia shook her head, "Nor could he."

"Rubbish." Celia waved her hand dismissively. "Lord Wolverton possesses many fine qualities, and he already proposed to you twice. He may not love you, but he wishes to marry you. It is more than many couples have in the beginning."

"More than once." Cordelia sighed. "He proposed multiple times, but he scarcely meant it."

"You are wrong," Celia said, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. "A man would not be that persistent if he did not wish to marry the woman in question."

Cordelia shook her head. "He feels a responsibility toward me because of what we did. It is nothing more, and that is hardly a good reason for marriage."

"But a baby is." Celia leaned toward Cordelia, her eyes searching, studying. "You cannot wish for your child to grow up a bastard."

Celia's words stung, and Cordelia sucked in a breath at the shock of them. She would allow no one to mistreat her child, nor would she have it labeled a bastard. Somehow she would safeguard her secret and protect the child—if there was one.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Cordelia said, "I do not even know if there is a baby. I need your help. That is why I came to you."

"Oh?" Celia's brows drew together in question. "How may I be of help?"

Cordelia squared her shoulders, her determination renewed. "I need to see a physician. One who does not know me and was hoping you could arrange it."

"I see." Celia nodded. "I will send for my physician at once."

Cordelia blew out a breath of relief, then said, "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," Celia said as she moved to the bell-pull. "And as luck would have it, my brother and the duchess took my mother into the village so nobody will be around to witness the doctor's coming and going."

"Thank God." Cordelia sighed. She'd not even considered that Celia's family may discover what she was about. Cordelia would need to be far more careful.

An hour later, Cordelia lay stretched out on a bed in one of Celia's guest chambers while a physician examined her. The grey-haired, bespectacled man smiled at her. "Congratulations are indeed in order, my lady."

He stepped back, and Cordelia pushed herself into a sitting position.

"By my estimation, you are two months along… give or take a week."

Cordelia nodded, then found her voice. "Thank you, Doctor Hartley."

The physician reached for his brown leather bag. "I do not expect any complications as you seem perfectly healthy, however, should the need arise, send for me."

"I will." Cordelia swung her legs over the side of the mattress and sat.

"Good day, ladies." The physician nodded, then took his leave.

Celia rushed to close the bedchamber door behind him, then hurried to sit in the chair across from the bed. "You must tell Lord Wolverton."

"He hasn't proposed since the night of the ball. I am quite certain he does not think of me or care what is happening."

"I'd wager you are wrong." Celia notched her chin.

"I do not wish to ruin his life," Cordelia retorted, "Revealing my condition would only result in him offering marriage again." She pressed her eyes shut and exhaled a long breath. "And he does not wish to marry me."

Celia rubbed her temples. "Clearly, it will be futile to argue the point as you have already decided on your course."

Cordelia met Celia's gaze. "I have."

"Oh, very well. Then tell me what you intend to do?" Celia leaned forward, her gaze sympathetic, though her forehead creased with worry.

Cordelia wrapped her arms around her midsection, her gaze moving to her belly. "I don't know," she said, her voice low.

"Tell him," Celia urged. "Let him take care of you."

Cordelia shook her head. She met Celia's gaze and sighed. "I will figure something out. My twenty-sixth birthday is fast approaching. If I can hide my condition until then, I will gain my freedom and the funds that come with it."

"Then what?" Celia pressed as she reached for Cordelia's hand. "And what if someone discovers your condition before then?"

"They will not." Cordelia gave a firm shake of her head. "Once my birthday comes, I will disappear. Start a new life somewhere far from here and live as a widow. No one will be the wiser."

Celia worried her bottom lip for a moment as she studied Cordelia. "I do wish you would reconsider. Lord Wolverton has a right to know that he is to be a father. The child has a right to both of its parents, and you have a right to happiness. Think about it, Cordelia. What sort of life will you lead tucked away, alone in some quiet corner of England or France, or wherever? You will be lonely. Your child will grow up believing a lie."

"There is nothing to think about other than how I will hide my pregnancy these next two-and-a-half months." Cordelia stood and moved to the door, then pivoted back to face Celia. "I know you are only trying to help, but my mind is made up."

"What if years from now, someone recognizes you? What if they know you are not a widow and share the information with anyone who cares to hear it? There will be no salvaging your reputation. No saving the child from ruin."

Cordelia paused for a moment, considering the possibility, then put her hand on her hip. "That will not happen. I will live far from everyone who knows me and in a place no one frequents. We will be safe."

Celia reached for Cordelia's hand. "I do wish you would reconsider. It is not right to keep this from him."

Cordelia narrowed her gaze as she stared at Celia. "Do not tell him."

Celia pressed her lips together and shook her head. "It is a big secret to keep."

"But keep it, you shall." Cordelia collected her bonnet and smiled. "Thank you for you help, today. And for your silence on the matter."

She prayed Celia would indeed remain silent.