Chapter 6 #2
Lizzie went back into shock. She failed to understand her sister at all.
But images of their childhood flooded her mind, and in every memory, there was Anna, so beautiful and so universally admired, indulged, adored.
Anna could do no wrong in Mama’s eyes and was never chastised or set down; Papa, of course, never intervened.
And suddenly she realized how Anna had been indulged and spoiled her entire life, and had now indulged herself without considering right or wrong.
She was thoughtless but not amoral; her character was deficient, not defective.
“I am always sorry afterward,” Anna said. “But, Lizzie, when I am in a gentleman’s arms, I seem to lose the ability to think.”
Oddly, Lizzie hurt for her sister now.
“Do you hate me?” Anna whispered.
“No. I don’t hate you,” Lizzie said, meaning it. “I could never hate you, Anna. As you said, we are sisters. That will never change.”
Anna stood with an effort and walked bravely to her now.
“I love you, Lizzie. And you have helped me through the worst time of my life. I know I made a terrible mistake…but Tyrell is just a dream for you, one that will never come true, so why does it have to matter like this? Please, can’t we both forget this ever happened? ”
Lizzie wished she could forget, but how could she? For every time she looked at her sister, with her hugely swollen belly, she would be reminded of the night of passion Anna and Tyrell had shared.
But Anna would have the baby—and he or she would be given to a good home.
In a few months, she and Anna would return to Raven Hall as if nothing had ever happened and Anna would marry Thomas in the fall.
Surely, with the passage of time, this gaping wound would heal and Lizzie would be able to forget.
Anna took both of her hands. “Please.”
Anna was her sister. Lizzie had adored and loved her for her entire life.
And hadn’t she admired Anna’s coy and brazen manner a hundred times, wishing she could be more like her?
Tears filled Lizzie’s eyes. Her heart was broken, but she could not abandon Anna now.
And somehow, when she spoke, her tone was firm.
“Anna, you’re right. Tyrell was just a foolish dream.
I have always known he is not for me. What happened between you two on All Hallow’s Eve is in the past, and it doesn’t matter. ”
Anna’s eyes filled with relief. “Thank you, Lizzie. Thank you.”
Almost immediately after Eleanor had learned the truth about Anna’s condition, the family had retired to Eleanor’s country manner in the heart of the Pale.
At Glen Barry, real seclusion could be attained, as there were very few callers and as few social invitations.
There was only one problem and that was Rory, who came to visit on a single occasion in May before going on to London.
He was told that Anna had returned home and Eleanor made it clear that she no longer needed his companionship, as she had that of her niece.
He had stayed but a day, clearly perplexed by his aunt’s apparent lack of interest; still, Lizzie did not think he was at all suspicious.
His nature remained cheerful, and when he left he did so with a wave and a grin, promising to return later in the summer.
The child was born in mid-July. Anna had been in labor most of the night, and Lizzie refused to leave her side.
The sun had just risen and was creeping into the room through the partially drawn curtains, as the local midwife instructed Anna to try one more time.
“Come now, dearie, you cannot stop now! His head is out—”
“Push, Anna,” Lizzie cried, overcome by the act she was witnessing. She had never been present at a birth before. The babe’s head was visible, and to Lizzie, it was a miracle.
Anna wept and made another huge effort to birth the child. Lizzie replaced the cool compress on her head. “Do not give up. It will be over soon! Push harder, Anna!”
“I cannot,” Anna cried, but at that moment the infant was born.
Lizzie stilled when she saw the baby as the midwife received it, mentally noting two legs, two feet, two arms and two hands. “You have done it, Anna!” she cried, stroking her forehead. “You have a beautiful boy! A son!”
“Have I? Oh, where is he? ” Anna gasped, barely able to hold her eyes open.
Lizzie smiled at her as the midwife announced, “My lady, you have a fine son, indeed. He looks to be in perfect health.”
Anna laughed weakly, reaching for Lizzie’s hand.
Lizzie instinctively tensed as their palms clasped.
Lizzie had done her very best to forget Anna’s betrayal since that day when Anna had confessed to the paternity of her child.
Yet some small tension had remained; it was impossible that their relationship had not changed.
Lizzie would never abandon her sister and would certainly never stop loving her, but sometimes, in her dreams, she was alone in the shadows, looking for her sister and unable to find her.
And in those dreams, Tyrell would appear, as seductive as ever, holding his hand out to her.
Lizzie shut off her thoughts, smiled and squeezed Anna’s hand.
Anna smiled back, and then closed her eyes in exhaustion.
Lizzie realized that the midwife was turning to the waiting maid.
“No,” she heard herself cry, and she ran from the bed, taking the blanket the maid held.
She quickly took Anna’s son in her arms, wrapping him in the blanket as she did so.
Remarkable blue eyes opened and met hers, the gaze painfully direct.
Lizzie felt her heart slam to a stop as she looked at the most beautiful and tiny creature she had ever seen.
Tyrell’s son. She vaguely heard the midwife telling her the child needed to be carefully cleaned.
Lizzie felt something bloom inside of her breast, expanding to impossible dimensions.
And then the infant seemed to smile at her.
Holding him close, no longer aware of anyone in the room, Lizzie smiled back.
She was holding Tyrell’s son and there could be no doubt about it.
While all newborns had blue eyes, his were clearly the brilliant de Warenne blue, and he had his father’s swarthy complexion and dark hair. She was holding Tyrell’s son.
The baby never looked away, his gaze remarkably focused.
And holding him, Lizzie knew she had never loved anyone or anything more. “How beautiful you are, my little darling,” she whispered, remaining stunned by the comprehension. “You are going to grow up to be exactly like your father, aren’t you?”
The nursemaid wiped the child’s face as Lizzie held him. “Oh, he’s a fine little boy,” she said, beaming. “Look at those eyes! How alert he is!”
“Yes,” Lizzie murmured, her heart so swollen now with her love that it almost hurt.
This was Tyrell’s son. He was also her nephew, her very own flesh and blood.
Eleanor entered the room. “I see the deed has been done,” she remarked, glancing at Anna, who appeared to be sleeping.
She paused at Lizzie’s side and they both stared at the child.
“Isn’t he handsome? Isn’t he perfect?” Lizzie asked, a terrible possessiveness claiming her, never taking her eyes off of Anna’s son.
“He looks like his father,” Eleanor remarked quietly.
Lizzie felt her heart lurch wildly. “It is only because we know the truth,” she lied, although she agreed with her aunt completely.
Eleanor was silent.
Lizzie turned her back to her, cradling the baby more tightly to her breast. What should they name him? she wondered, still smiling at her nephew. Her nephew. “He needs a name,” Lizzie murmured. “Anna? Dear? We must name your son,” she said.
Anna’s eyes fluttered open. “My son,” she whispered.
“We are hardly naming him, Elizabeth,” Eleanor said firmly. “The good sisters will be here tomorrow to take him to his new parents. They will surely have that honor.”
Lizzie felt unbearable pain.
Eleanor laid her hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. “Do not become too attached, my dear,” she said softly.
And Lizzie felt as if someone had just thrown her in a tub of ice water. Her grasp on the child must have increased, because he started to cry. She turned away from them all, hushing the baby. “Don’t cry, don’t cry,” she murmured, rocking him.
His brief whimpers ceased and he stared intently at her.
I can’t do this, Lizzie thought wildly. I cannot give this child up!
“Lizzie, give the child over to the nurse,” Eleanor ordered sharply. “I think it’s best.”
Lizzie held the baby more closely. “Not yet,” she said, the panic surging. How could she do this? How could she ever put little Ned down? For that was his name, she decided. Ned, a fine name indeed, short for Edward, in honor of his grandfather, the earl.
“I’ll take him, mum,” the maid said, reaching out.
“No!” Lizzie jerked away. She quickly smiled at Ned, who had been on the verge of wailing. He seemed to smile back.
Anna whispered weakly, “Can I…see him?”
Lizzie stiffened and she realized she did not want her sister to hold Ned. Quickly, tightly, she closed her eyes, aware that now she was damp with perspiration. What was wrong with her? They had a plan, a solution to Anna’s terrible situation!
Tyrell de Warenne’s image pierced through her mind, his regard intense and unnerving.
Instantly Lizzie shoved that image away. She could not think about him now. She could not think about his rights as a father. Because tomorrow, the nuns would come and take Ned away….
“Lizzie?” Anna whispered.
Lizzie felt tears rising, tears she could not control.
Eleanor touched Lizzie’s shoulder. “Let her see the child, dear,” she said softly.
Lizzie somehow nodded.
With Eleanor guiding her, she went over to Anna’s bedside. “Isn’t he beautiful?” she asked roughly, but she made no move to lay Ned down beside his mother.
Tears filled Anna’s eyes and she nodded. “He looks—” She paused and wet her cracked lips. “He looks just like his father. Oh, God. He will be a mirror image, don’t you think?”
Lizzie couldn’t speak. She shook her head meaninglessly.
Anna clutched the sheets. “Promise me you will keep my secret, Lizzie, no matter the circumstance!” Anna cried. “He must never know!”
And in that moment, Lizzie knew that such a secret was wrong. Tyrell had every right to his child, and she knew, with all of her heart, that he would cherish his son. But she did not hesitate. “He will never know. I promise.”
Anna’s eyes were closed, but she was breathing shallowly and rapidly. She whispered, “Thank you.”
Lizzie turned away.
“Elizabeth?” Eleanor laid her hand on her shoulder. “I want you to give the child to the nurse. It is time for him to be properly cared for.”
And Lizzie knew that if she released the baby, she would never hold him again.
She knew it the way she knew that she must breathe in order to live.
In that moment, as she faced her aunt, cupping the back of Ned’s head to her breast, she also knew what she must do.
“Send word to the sisters. They need not come,” she said harshly.
Eleanor stared. “What do you intend?” she asked, with both restraint and alarm.
“Tell them the child has his new mother.”
“Lizzie!” Eleanor cried in protest.
“No. I am Ned’s mother now.”