Chapter Fourteen
S tanding in the doorway, Matthew watched the carriage carry Eleanor away. He should have done this long ago. In fact, he should never have enabled the wicked woman into his home in the first place.
After blowing out a heavy sigh, he went back inside, ambled through the entry hall, and eyed the staircase. Fortuity needed to be told about the forgery and Eleanor’s departure. While he hoped the latter would bring her some comfort, he knew in his heart that the ruination of what should have been the joyous occasion of her publishing debut would take quite some time for her to get over. Especially since her name would not grace a cover or title page until her next book.
Mrs. Greer appeared at the top of the stairs, her usually cheerful demeanor darker and sadder than he had ever seen it. Alarm shot through him, making him rush to meet her. “Pray, do not tell me her condition has worsened?”
The usually jolly matron avoided his gaze and wet her mouth as if struggling to coax the words free. “Nothing has happened to her ladyship, my lord. She is much better, in fact.”
“But?”
“It would be better if you spoke to her.”
“You say she is better. Is she fully recovered?”
“The herbal I blended has lessened her megrim greatly.” The housekeeper kept her eyes downcast. “I must hie myself to my apothecary now and blend some more for when she may next need it. Excuse me, my lord.”
An ominous thrum of dread filled him, growing stronger with every step he took toward their private suite. As soon as he opened the door, his heart fell.
Anne was checking the straps on a pair of trunks. When she looked up and set eyes on him, she backed away and curtsied. “My lord.”
“What is going on here?” he asked, forcing himself to speak in a quiet, reasonable tone.
“I am going to stay with Blessing.” Fortuity stepped into the room. Dark shadows, purplish black smudges of unwellness, plagued her troubled eyes, and her pallor concerned him. “It is for the best,” she added softly, as if that explained everything and made it all right.
She was leaving him. Everything had become too much for her.
“Please stay,” he whispered.
“Do not make this more difficult, Matthew, I beg you.”
Anguish moved him a step closer. He had to make her understand. “It was Eleanor who put my name on your book. She forged a letter to your publisher, writing it as if it were you.” He yanked the thing out of his pocket that he’d retrieved from his desk and held it for her to take. “I have sent her back to Bombay. She will never torment us again.”
Fortuity glanced at the letter in his hand but didn’t move to take it. “I see.” She turned to Anne as if the movement pained her. “Do we have everything packed?”
The maid nodded, then edged back toward the bedroom. “I shall check for anything we may have overlooked.”
“Thank you.” Fortuity watched her leave them as if wishing she could follow.
“You do not have to go now,” Matthew insisted, drawing her attention back to him. He shook the paper and stepped even closer. “Look at this letter. You will see. If you wish, I shall take you to Mr. Newman so he can assure you this will never happen again. He promised that any future last-minute adjustments would be personally confirmed with you.”
She shifted with a heavy sigh and touched her forehead. “I notice you did not mention the recovery and correction of the books, so I must surmise that is not going to happen.”
“Mr. Newman fears it would trigger gossip about Eleanor’s scheme and harm your reputation as a writer. It could cast a pall over your future books, one they might not be able to overcome.”
She huffed a sad laugh while still rubbing her head. “There will be no future books, Matthew. I am done. With everything. Writing. Marriage. The ton. I shall help my sisters with their offspring and find comfort in their joy.”
Dread closed icy fingers around his heart and squeezed until his blood pounded in his ears. “You cannot do this, Fortuity. Please do not leave me. I beg you.”
“I must, Matthew. But do not worry about any gossip. Everyone will be told I am helping my sister during her confinement. I will do nothing to draw any additional speculation down upon the Ravenglass name. After Blessing’s confinement ends, I shall think of another lie to feed to the ton. ”
“Hang the gossip and the speculation.” He closed the remaining distance between them, dismayed when she took a step back to avoid his touch. “Please, Fortuity. I know this has been difficult, but surely you know that none of this is my fault? None of it was of my doing.”
The sadness and resignation in her eyes cut off his ability to breathe. She moved to the bedroom door and called out to Anne, “Please fetch my shawl. I wish to be on our way.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Fortuity.” He shook his head and held out both hands. “Why are you doing this?”
“I need peace,” she said, her strained whisper crackling with emotion. “And while nothing is directly your fault, everything has to do with you.” She shrugged. “Perhaps we are cursed to be star-crossed lovers. I do not know. All I know for certain is I need peace for my own survival.” Her sad smile cut through him. “I have always been a creature of the shadows, a wallflower content to hide among the draperies and watch the lives of others. Becoming the tongue waggers’ focus has made me unwell. I am done, Matthew. This is the only way I know of to fight back and save my sanity.”
“By running and hiding.”
She accepted her shawl from Anne and draped it around her shoulders before meeting his gaze. “Yes. By running and hiding.”
As she walked past him, he caught her arm and pulled her close. “I cannot live without you,” he rasped, staring into her eyes and willing her to feel his pain. “You are…everything to me.”
She turned her face away. “I must do this.”
“At least promise me it is not permanent,” he begged. “Promise me you will consider coming back once you are better.” Desperation overwhelmed him. She could not toss him aside, not after all they had shared. “What if you carry our child?”
She squinted at him the way she had when the light hurt her eyes. “I do not carry our child.” She gently but firmly pulled free and hurried from the room. Anne rushed to follow her.
Bernard, one of the lesser footmen, waited at the door to collect the trunk. “My lord?”
Matthew stepped aside and waved him in without a word. He grappled with the choices of throwing back his head and roaring, and rushing downstairs, grabbing her up, and locking her in their rooms until she promised to stay. But then she would hate him for failing to understand her need to remove herself from the storm for a while. At least, he prayed it was for a little while. He would do everything in his power to get her to come back home, to be his wife, and grant him all the rest of her days to prove to her how much he loved her.
*
“Tutie, I am so very sorry.” Propped in bed amid a multitude of pillows, Blessing stretched out her open arms. “Come here, my poor, brokenhearted pet.”
Fortuity tried not to crumple into a weepy mess but failed. She clambered onto the bed and dove into her sister’s embrace, clinging like a drowning soul adrift in a stormy sea. “Everything is so awful,” she wailed between jags of hard sobbing.
“I know.” Blessing stroked her hair and gently rocked from side to side, as she had often done when they were children, and nightmares or thunder had frightened Fortuity.
“Mama would be so ashamed of me.” Fortuity sniffed while pressing the back of her hand to her infernal nose that insisted on dribbling whenever she cried. “Do you happen to have a handkerchief?”
“Here, pet.” Blessing fished a square of linen out from among the pillows and pushed it into her sister’s hands. “And Mama would not be ashamed of you. She taught us to do whatever was required for our own wellbeing. You needed an escape, and from what little you have told me, that is perfectly understandable.”
Fortuity pushed herself up from Blessing’s embrace and blew her nose with a very unladylike snort. “The problem is Matthew did not actually do any of those horrible things. They simply evolved from those two awful women from his past determined to use him for their own selfish means.” She hiccupped a shuddering breath and dissolved into more tears. “He kept asking me to ignore them and all the humiliation they caused, but I just couldn’t anymore. I just couldn’t. And he simply couldn’t understand that no matter where I went, the stares and whispers followed.” She noticed her ink-stained fingers and mourned her broken dream with another high-pitched howl. “And his name is on my book. Everyone will think he wrote it.”
“Your name will be on the next book,” Blessing said, speaking louder to drown out Fortuity’s wails.
“There will be no next book. That dream is gone.” Fortuity scooted back against the headboard and hugged her knees. “I am going to find a hole to crawl into and never emerge again.”
“I see.” Blessing rocked from side to side while flailing her arms among the pillows. “Give a whale a hand, will you? My bum is sore from sitting like this. I need a bit of a shift.”
“Forgive me, Essie.” Fortuity helped her sister move to a different position and rearranged the pillows to support her better. “Here you are, as miserable as can be, and I have shown up on your doorstep a whimpering ninny.”
“I told you to come here anytime.” Blessing huffed out a groan, then wiggled and flexed her back again. “No. This will not do either. Help me to my feet. I shall walk the floor a while.”
Clambering off the bed, Fortuity grabbed her sister’s hands and pulled. After much grunting and scooting, she leveraged Blessing to a standing position. Her sister’s state of unrest made her forget her own misery. “Is the baby coming, perhaps? Remember what Papa said about how Mama got when Merry was born?”
Blessing waved away the possibility and waddled over to the window. “I am not really in pain. It is simply difficult to find a comfortable position in which I can breathe and not be all achy.” She wrinkled her nose. “The accoucheur was quite detailed about what sort of agony to expect.” She shuddered. “He also described the mess that comes when my waters let go. The monthly nurse was also unpleasantly specific when she visited for us to get acquainted.”
“I should not have come here to burden you. I should have been staunch and courageous like you and Mama and stuck it out.” Fortuity unleashed a despondent sigh. If she told Anne to repack everything she was currently unpacking, the poor maid would probably think her mad. “What is wrong with me?”
Blessing frowned at her. “You have never been the hysterical sort before. Is it possible you are with child?”
“No. I got my courses last week.”
Blessing waddled closer and peered at her with sisterly concern. “Is that yet another thing upsetting you? You realize it sometimes takes time to be blessed with a baby?”
Fortuity pulled in a deep breath and held it to the count of five, reminding herself not to be curt. None of this was Blessing’s fault, and her sister had always been there whenever she needed her. She counted off on her fingers as she clarified why she was so unbearably overset. “Eleanor’s defiance and betrayal in my own home upsets me. Olandra’s greedy determination and blatantly obvious maneuvering to get Matthew into her bed upsets me. Matthew’s inability to comprehend how I could possibly be ill at ease about either of those bloody hedge whores upsets me most of all.” Fortuity threw up her hands, then clutched her fists to her chest. “And my book, the heart of my dreams, does not bear my name! That infuriates and saddens me beyond all comprehension.”
With a thoughtful nod, Blessing returned to her slow waddling around the room. “Well, then. We are clear now on what has upset you.” She rubbed her lower back as she walked. “The question is: what do you intend to do about those things?”
“The devil if I know.” Fortuity settled onto the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. She rubbed her tired, gritty eyes that burned from too much crying. “Matthew was overwrought about my leaving.”
“Well, that is a good thing.” Blessing took another lap, then paused and gazed out the window overlooking the street below. “He is also sitting outside in his carriage.” She propped her hands on the sill and leaned forward, squinting. “Or, at least, I believe that is him. Did you not send your coach back to the townhouse?”
Fortuity joined her at the window. “I did.” She eyed the vehicle parked across the street from the Knightwood residence. “That is either him or one of the servants.” A frustrated snort escaped her as she shook her head. “Gossip is one of the things that chased me out of my own home. Is he trying to create even more exciting morsels for the tongue-tattlers to gobble up?”
With her hands still planted on the ledge of the windowsill, Blessing rocked back, groaning quietly as she stretched. “The tongue-tattlers will simply think you and he came to welcome the baby.”
Fortuity tore her gaze from the carriage below and eyed her sister more closely. “Is it time to send for the accoucheur and his nurse?”
Blessing bowed her head and rocked in place, stretching her back again. “Quite possibly.”
“Get back in bed.” Fortuity took hold of her sister’s arm and gently tugged.
“I will not.” Blessing smacked her away. “When I lean like this and stretch, it eases the pain in my lower back.”
“I thought you said you were not in pain?” Panic rising, Fortuity rushed to the door and yanked on the bellpull several times to summon the entire household, if need be. “You said there was no pain.”
“It is an ache. A sort of cramping, not pain, exactly.” Blessing scowled at her. “When did you become such a nervous, flighty creature? Stop it, this minute. We come from a large family of strong women. Act like it.”
Fortuity bit her tongue to keep from calling her sister a snappish little chit. Blessing was about to give birth. She had every right to be more fractious and overbearing than usual. Fortuity yanked on the bellpull again. “Did you give all your staff the day off?”
Meggie, Blessing’s lady’s maid, rushed in from the adjoining dressing room. “Yes, my lady? Are you all right?”
“It might be time,” Blessing said with another groan, “to send for the accoucheur. Do not alert Lord Knightwood just yet. I believe he had meetings all day, and there is no reason to interrupt him until we know for certain that little Starpeeper has decided that today is the day to meet us.”
“Yes, my lady.” Meggie paused in the doorway. “Is there anything else you desire that might bring you comfort while I do as you ask?”
“My sister is here.” Blessing smiled at Fortuity, making her worry that she might not be up to the task. “She will take excellent care of me until you return.”
“Very good, my lady.” The maid rushed off to do her mistress’s bidding.
Fortuity fell in step beside her sister, and they returned to pacing the circumference of the room. “You realize I was only four years old and toddled alongside Mama when she gave us Merry. There is little else I know to do?”
“Talk to me,” Blessing said. “Keep me from worrying.”
“And what shall we speak of?”
“Whether you shall return to your husband or crawl into that hole you mentioned earlier and live out your life as some sort of burrowing animal.”
“You think I am being oversensitive. That I have overreacted.”
“I did not say that.”
“You did not have to.”
“Be that as it may…” Blessing paused, clamped her mouth tightly shut, and squeezed Fortuity’s hand with an impressive amount of strength.
Fortuity watched her, praying the babe wouldn’t drop out and land on the floor between her sister’s feet. “Should you not return to your bed?”
“I do not want to be in that bed!”
“Fine. I was simply concerned about my new little niece or nephew landing on their head between your feet.”
Blessing gave her a murderous glare. “I will know when the babe is coming out.”
“I would hope so.” Fortuity wrapped an arm around her sister and helped her continue pacing. “I still say you think I overreacted.”
Blessing rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Since you failed to assault, poison, or murder the two hedge whores or your husband, you did not overreact.” She caught hold of the bedpost, bent forward, and stretched as she had done at the windowsill. “Why does my lower back hurt so? Should the pain not be confined to where the child comes out?”
“You are asking the wrong person, as I have neither had a child nor done any research on the birthing process.” On impulse, Fortuity balled up her fists and rubbed her sister’s back, working her knuckles hard into Blessing’s poor, knotted muscles. “Is that better or worse?”
Blessing rumbled with a long, low groan. “You are an angel, and may live here forever if you wish.”
“I shall take that as a positive sign that this helps.” Fortuity continued massaging until Blessing straightened and started pacing again.
“Save your strength for the next pain,” she said. “Now tell me, what do you intend to do, since you appear to be second-guessing your hasty departure from your home?”
“I don’t know. Pride forbids me to return the same day I left, doesn’t it?”
“Pride can be a very troublesome thing in a marriage.” Blessing stretched from side to side while resting her hands on her hips. “ I have done the research on that.”
“What are you suggesting?” Fortuity glanced back at the bedroom door, wishing that someone who knew what to do during this delicate situation would show up to help.
“When the troops arrive to help me relocate little Starpeeper from my belly to my arms, go down there and talk to your husband.” She tapped on the windowpane. “He is standing outside the carriage now, looking much like a puppy that has been kicked out of the house for chewing on the furniture.”
Fortuity blew out a groaning huff as she went to the window and looked for herself. There he was. Hat in hand. Standing beside the coach with such a mournful expression one would think he had just been widowed. “Oh dear heavens. Have you ever seen anything more pitiful?”
“Yes,” Blessing said. “You.”
Fortuity narrowed her eyes. “You will not be bringing forth this child forever, dear sister, and I have a very long memory when it comes to insults.”
Blessing smiled. “That sounds better. It is about time my brave sister who fights for what she wants returned. Now go down there and drag your fool of a husband either into the carriage or our sitting room so the two of you can have a conversation without the world watching.”
“I shall go down there when your people arrive. You should not be left alone at a time like this.”
“Lady Knightwood, do be good enough to return to your bed,” said a bespectacled man as he breezed into the room without knocking.
A brusque woman dressed in black marched around him and took hold of Blessing’s arm. “Allow me to help you, my lady.”
“She does not wish to be in the bed,” Fortuity said while holding her sister’s other arm. “Walking has given her some ease.”
Both the accoucheur and the nurse glared at her as if shocked she had contradicted them.
Blessing yanked her arm free of the nurse’s hold and patted Fortuity. “Go to your task, pet. I can handle these two.”
“Are you certain?” Fortuity eyed the gentleman and his nurse, ready to defend her sister’s wants if need be. That was the way of sisters. They picked and fussed at each other, but if an outsider threatened one of them, they banded together until the bitter end.
Through another strained groan, Blessing managed a graceful nod and an evil wink.
“Very well, then,” Fortuity told her as she made her way to the door. “I shall attend to my business and wait for the delightful announcement of your precious Starpeeper’s arrival.”
“Starpeeper?” the stern-faced nurse repeated. “Is that to be the child’s name?”
“If I wish it,” Blessing said with a warning growl as she returned to waddling around the room.
Fortuity held her breath to keep from laughing as she went into the hallway. The accoucheur and his nurse had no idea whom they were dealing with. But then a somber thought about the dangerous task ahead made her turn back, open the door, and call out, “I love you, Essie.”
“I love you, Tutie.” Blessing blew her a kiss and waved her onward.
Fortuity softly closed the door, then bowed her head while still holding tightly to the latch. “Please keep her and the babe safe,” she quietly prayed. Then she stepped away and hurried down the hallway, meeting an army of maids bearing extra linens, steaming kettles, and additional basins.
As she descended the stairs, she dodged innumerable cats and wondered how they would get along with the newest addition to the family. Thorne’s mother—little Starpeeper’s soon-to-be grandmother, Lady Roslynn—loved her kitties and had fostered a deep adoration of them in Blessing as well. Fortuity laughed softly, and now four former Knightwood felines resided at Ravenglass. It appeared that Lady Roslynn and her ever-expanding cat army were taking over the world—or, at the very least, London.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Fortuity noticed Cadwick standing beside the front door, peering out the tall, narrow window beside it.
“Is he still out there?” she asked the butler.
The poor man jumped and faced her with a startled clearing of his throat. “Lord Ravenglass appears to be waiting on the other side of the street, my lady.”
“Very good. I shall fetch him.”
“Do you require your parasol or hat, my lady? Or perhaps a shawl?”
“No, thank you. I will be returning with him posthaste.”
The butler bowed, then opened the door for her.
Not giving a whit that she’d not donned her gloves or any of the socially expected accessories when one stepped outside the house, Fortuity caught up her skirts and darted down the steps and across the street as if she were a young girl running through a field of wildflowers.
Matthew stared at her with his mouth ajar and his dark brows ratcheting ever higher. “Fortuity?”
After a quick glance to ensure they were alone on the street, she faked a smile just in case someone watched from the windows and hooked her arm through his. “You must come inside this instant. What in heaven’s name do you think you are doing out here?”
He remained rooted to the spot with the strength of the cantankerous mule that had lived at the Broadmere country manor when she was a child. “I intend to sit out here until you come home.”
“Come inside,” she said through clenched teeth, the forced smile making her cheeks ache. “And we shall discuss it.” Thankfully, that got him moving, but his stormy expression remained. “And the baby is coming. So, we shall be here until little Starpeeper arrives.”
“I noticed the gentleman and a rather somber woman had arrived, and prayed nothing was wrong.”
“I hope nothing goes wrong.” Fortuity kept hold of his arm as they climbed the front steps and entered the wide front door together. “Babies are a joy, but it is a dangerous time for both the mother and the child.”
She led him into the parlor, then released him. “Thorne has yet to return from wherever his meetings were held, but I am sure once he arrives, he will be most grateful to find you here for support.”
“I am here for you.” His steely gaze captured her, making her catch her breath. “I cannot bear Ravenglass Townhouse without you in it, and I am not the only one. When I left, Ignatius was howling, and two of those infernal cats were roaming the hauls caterwauling at the top of their lungs.”
After a yank of the bellpull, she nervously paced closer to the door to watch for Cadwick. “It sounds as if the only reason you wish me to return is for peace and quiet.”
“You know better than that.”
Cadwick appeared with impeccable timing. “Yes, my lady?”
“Tea, please, and brandy.”
The butler nodded and disappeared.
Stoking her courage, she faced her unhappy husband, her precious Matthew. “I did not leave to torment you or the animals. The thievery of my book was the tipping point. I had to escape for a little while. Speak to someone who would hear me as I needed to be heard.”
He resettled his footing and dropped his gaze, looking well and truly ashamed. “I am sorry that I was not more understanding about the pain and torment of the gossip.” He rolled his shoulders in a frustrated shrug. “Men do not worry so much about the tongue waggers, or at least, I never have. But Mrs. Greer helped me realize how different it is for ladies.”
Fortuity couldn’t help but smile. “Are you all right?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Mrs. Greer’s explanations can sometimes be fierce.”
He scrubbed his jaw while squinting one eye shut. “Let us just say it was very enlightening.” He deflated with a heavy sigh. “And then the book—damn and blast it all, Fortuity. I will never forgive myself for allowing that conniving chit to hurt you that way.”
“But you sent Eleanor away, yes?” She had been so upset and her head had still pounded, so she wasn’t sure if that was what he had told her or if it was merely her own wishful thinking.
“Back to her father’s family in Bombay. The only way she will ever return to England is if they ship her back or she marries someone rich enough to bring her here. I have washed my hands of her and notified Agnus of that fact as well.”
Fortuity found herself breathing easier. “Good.” She ached to run into his arms, but just couldn’t bring herself to do so. Granted, she had somewhat overreacted by fleeing, but he had as much as patted her on the head and told her to stop being so silly about Eleanor and Olandra. At least now he realized that her issues with Eleanor were well founded. Battling with her pride and stubbornness, she stared at the floor, not entirely sure what else to say.
“I know this book cannot be changed, but future—”
She turned away and held up a hand to interrupt him. “I am not entirely certain there will be any future books.” That disappointment was still too fresh, too raw.
“I love your stories, Fortuity. They give me a glimpse into your soul. Even if you decide never to publish again, will you please continue writing them for me?”
A lump of emotions made her throat ache. She swallowed hard to be rid of it. Still not facing him, she kept her gaze locked on the floor. “I cannot promise that.”
The heat of him behind her made her close her eyes and breathe in his nearness. Please hold me, her heart begged, but she bit her lip to keep the words inside. There was still the matter of Olandra. Would he continue to think her silly about that too?
“I love you, Fortuity,” he whispered, “and I will never brush off your worries or take your uneasiness about anything lightly ever again. I swear it. Please come home.”
She couldn’t bear it any longer. Whirling about, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. “I love you too, Matthew. I am so very sorry for this uproar.”
He crushed her closer and buried his face against her neck. “Thank God Almighty,” he said in a rasping whisper. “I feared I had lost you.”
“No!” Thorne gave an anguished cry from the parlor’s doorway. “My Blessing? Our babe?”