Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
BENNET HALL, SURREY - OCTOBER 2, 1816
CHARLOTTE
The writing desk tilted precariously on my belly. Juliet had been kind enough to send me a few recommendations of accoucheurs and wet nurses she was considering. Now, I was left with the onerous task of writing to convince them to travel here for the birth.
I had met the village midwife, but she was a stern, no-nonsense woman, and I wasn’t certain we would suit. And besides, women of my station hired an accoucheur. It was the done thing.
Cassiopeia had settled herself next to me and fell asleep with a paw resting on the bump of my belly. She had taken to doing that on occasion and only bit or scratched me one out of every two or three interactions. I had no choice but to consider it progress.
Lee had finished the harvest but had taken to assisting the tenants with preparations for winter. While I could appreciate my husband’s work ethic, I missed the midsummer nights basking under the stars.
Imogen knocked on the open door frame with a sheepish expression. The noise woke the sleeping beast who pressed herself up with an angry chirp and stretched languidly. Another mrroww followed as she bounced to the floor and flounced out to cause mischief elsewhere.
“Go chirp at your human,” I called after her.
Imogen hovered in the doorway, watching as the cat strolled past.
“Come in.”
Wordlessly, she took a seat on the nearby chair. The lines of her forehead were tight.
“What is it?” I asked, unwilling to wade through a sea of small talk before we reached the point.
She sighed, wringing her hands. “There are rumors.”
“What kind of rumors?” It was an unnecessary question. I knew precisely which kind. The inevitable kind.
“That you’re too far along for the babe to be Lord Champaign’s.”
I felt resignation settle into my bones. I deserved the censure, the comments, the shame. But my heart hurt for Lee—Lee who had done nothing but come to my aid. And he would be humiliated in his home.
“Brigsby is valiantly trying to quiet them,” Imogen added. “But I believe several of the tenants have relations in town. The harvest had them chatting.”
My stomach sank in a way that had nothing to do with the babe. “So the whole of London, then?”
“It seems that way.”
“I do not suppose we can convince them that Lord Champaign and I anticipated our vows?”
“I believe that is the angle Brigsby has taken. But… Lord Champaign is known to go to town so rarely. There was little opportunity.”
Cursing my reclusive husband, I flicked my quill away with no heed for the parchment beneath.
“Well, it is not as though we didn’t foresee this probability. They may gossip all they like. The child is my husband’s in the eyes of the law.”
“There’s another problem.”
“What is that?”
“Rumor has it that Mr. Parker has gotten himself into a spot of trouble. And has made himself scarce.”
“I’d heard something to that effect. Surely that is a good thing.”
She quirked her head questioningly. When I didn’t respond, she forged ahead. “The rumors also say he is the father of your child. And that you are sheltering him.”
I choked on air and hacked pitifully. “I beg your pardon?” spilled out between coughs.
“They’re saying Mr. Parker is the father of your child. That he murdered Lord Rycliffe years ago. And that you are in love with him and harboring him.”
My stomach jolted in a way it hadn’t in weeks, rolling disgruntledly.
“He told all and sundry that he was not the father. Told anyone who would listen that I had enjoyed the company of every man in town. Why is he now receiving credit for his efforts?”
“I don’t rightly know.”
“What am I to do about it?” I whined, pathetic even to my ears.
“I do not know that either. But I thought you ought to hear it.”
“Where do they say I’m keeping him?”
“Some secret love nest the two of you shared.” That deserved an eye roll. The only love nest we’d shared was an empty hall outside the music room during the Countess of Canton’s ball. Hardly a place one could hide unnoticed indefinitely.
“Thank you for informing me, I suppose.”
“Of course.” She stood and turned for the door but hesitated before taking another step. She glanced back at me. “My lady?” Her tone was tentative, considering.
“Yes?”
“I know you wanted him. That you loved him. But I’m glad you found Lord Champaign instead. He’s a better man.”
I ought to scold her for her impertinence. But it was such an accurate assessment of my own feelings that I couldn’t bring myself to.
“He is.”