Chapter 3
Natalie
Wiping my mouth, I flush down the slush of puke gathered in the toilet. It’s been nonstop for days, and the truth is becoming glaringly obvious. My eyes flicker up to Sarah, who is watching me with concern at the door frame. She’s the house manager, and my only friend.
“Shall I call a doctor?”
I nod, moving to the sink and cupping water to rinse out my mouth. “A different one from Jeoffry’s. Probably…an obstetrician.”
She dips her head in acknowledgment and leaves me. I lean against the cold counter, fatigue wearing me down. My body, my heart, my mind.
Jeoffry’s health has declined to the point of no return. His lawyer advised me to make a decision on whether or not to essentially pull the plug.
My hand slides to rub at my belly. If what I suspect is true, then my baby’s father would never forgive me. I need Jeoffry to die of natural causes, not me removing him from life support. Henry would never see it any other way than me murdering him.
My ringing phone startles me, and I frown at the caller ID. I haven’t spoken to my father’s lawyer since before I got married when we signed a quick prenup.
“Martin?” I answer.
“Natalie. Are you alone?” The urgency in his voice has me concerned. I grip the counter tighter. “Yes. What is it?”
“I’ve met with Nathaniel, on behalf of your father. We were going over Jeoffry’s will last night and I felt obligated to warn you.”
My heart sinks. Nathaniel is the lawyer Jeoffry and my father share for common business indentures. I wasn’t aware Jeoffry had a will, at least not one he discussed with me. I thought the prenup squared everything away. “Warn me about what?”
“He inserted an inheritance clause. You are to receive only 10 percent of his entire estate per the prenup. The rest is going to his heir.”
My eyes squeeze shut, feeling foolish that Jeoffry’s son had come for any sentimental reason. “That’s why Henry has been—”
“Henry has been disowned and is no longer recognized as his heir.”
I’m stunned silent for a moment, struggling to understand. “If not, Henry. Then who?”
“That’s the thing, there’s no specification. It would allow anyone to contest they are an heir.”
I gasp. “Are you saying Jeoffry may have illegitimate children running around? And they could inherit nearly his entire estate?”
“Precisely,” Martin says, his voice worn with his badly concealed disgust. It doesn’t escape my notice that he avoided the first question I asked, but I know better than to try to get any information from Martin that he’s not willing to give freely.
“What would you advise me to do?” I ask.
He’s silent for a moment. “I legally can’t advise you, but I would suggest you find an heir. By any means possible.”
It’s only a few minutes after we hang up that Jeoffry’s alarms echo throughout the house again, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I know the decision I need to make, but it’s going to complicate so many things.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts, and I look up at Sarah, who is holding a pregnancy test in her hands. “I called a concierge service, they’re sending out an OBGYN and their sonographer.”
I nod, taking the test and setting it on the counter. Tears well in my eyes. She doesn’t move to comfort me, and it’s fine because I don’t expect her to, but emotions are heavy in the air. I wipe away the tears and move to the toilet to take the test.
She doesn’t move from the doorframe, keeping her gaze on the floor as I go through the motions. I set it on the counter and wash my hands before moving to the closet to change out of my nightgown into a flowy summer dress.
“Did you want to try to eat breakfast again? Or even a small smoothie?” she asks when I come back into the bathroom. I flip the test, taking a deep breath at the positive result I had already expected. It’s happening, and I can no longer ignore it.
“I’ll try a smoothie. Thank you, Sarah. Is Jeoffry’s physician in or just the nurses?”
She nods. “I believe just the nurses. I’ll check. Do you wish me to call him if he’s not here?”
“Please. I’ll meet you down in the kitchen in a few minutes.”
I rub my hand down my flat stomach after she leaves.
This isn’t the turn I expected for my life, but it’s an opportunity practically dropped in my lap.
The only person who could ruin it has more to gain by keeping the secret.
Henry has always seemed like the intelligent kind; he should catch on before letting it slip.
I shove the test into a drawer and head downstairs, finding the smoothie Sarah promised me on the counter.
I can hear her messing around in the pantry, either organizing it or knowing her, planning meals out to cater to my pregnancy going forward.
The gentle woman is everything one could want for a house manager.
I’m still trying to stomach some of the smoothie when the doorbell rings. Sarah leaves me to go get it, and I follow behind her silently as two women step into the foyer.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” I say warmly.
The older one nods. “Of course. I’m Jenn, this is Kelly. Where did you want us to set up?”
I wave my hand forward. “We can use the large family room. It rarely gets used anyway.”
Sarah moves ahead to lead us through the house toward the back.
I can see the women observing the obscene wealth on display as we walk, and any other time I’d tell them the history of the paintings on the walls, or the pieces perfectly placed on the tables and inlets.
Today I prefer the silence, too deep in my own thoughts about the next steps that need to be taken.
“Will the couch work?” I ask as soon as we walk into the darkened room. Sarah moves to one of the tall windows, pulling the curtain back to allow the morning light in.
Jenn nods. “That’ll work.”
I sit on the couch, waiting for their guidance.
“You already took an at-home test?” she asks.
I nod. “Yes, earlier. It was positive.”
“Okay, great. We’ll just take some blood to see where your levels are at, and then Kelly will take an ultrasound to get an estimate of the gestation age.”
With a forced smile, I follow her instructions with the blood withdrawal, answering her routine questions about my diet and exercise, and listen while she explains that she’ll be prescribing me prenatal vitamins.
The second woman steps up, sets up her machine, and asks me to lie back and lift up my dress to my hips. I barely flinch at the cold gel as she moves it around inside me.
She pauses with a smile, showing the small screen. “There’s the baby. I’d say about six weeks or so.”
“Eight weeks,” I say.
Her eyebrows furrow, only breaking my unwavering stare to glance at her colleague. The other doctor swallows, and her eyes shift between us.
“Eight weeks.”
Her hand shakes where she’s holding the doppler but she repeats the same words, “You’re right. Eight weeks.”
I smile at them both. “And that will be reflected on the sonogram?”
She nods slowly, lifting the doppler and grabbing a towel to hand me to wipe off the extra between my legs. I sit up, waving Sarah in through the door.
“Thank you. You’ve been incredibly helpful. Sarah, please ensure they’re compensated well for their time.”
They both leave without another word, and I know that Sarah will remind them of their oath to uphold doctor-patient confidentiality.
I rest my hand on my stomach, a small smile lifting on my lips because the reality is starting to hit.
There’s a baby growing in there; I am going to be a mother.
Now I just have to ensure they have a home to grow up in, because I’ll be damned before returning to my father.
Jeoffry’s doctor finds me sitting on the couch, and I’m unsure how long I’ve been sitting, lost in my thoughts.
“You called for me, Mrs. Dansworth?”
With a heavy heart, I nod and stand, smoothing out my dress. “I believe it’s time to bring my husband’s misery to an end. I can’t hold on for selfish reasons, for the sake of Henry and me.”
The doctor stands taller, with a somber expression. “I understand. We’ll prepare for end of life care then.”
The medical team begins to withdraw treatment, and they unplug Jeoffry from everything that has been keeping him alive. My husband is dead within the next hour.
Henry keeps his distance throughout the funeral service, and I discreetly shove ginger candy after ginger candy into my mouth. It’s the only thing I can stomach, and while I’m sure most could explain random bouts of throwing up due to emotions, I’m not chancing it.
I even hired a party planner, or as they like to be called “celebration of life event planners,” to ensure that everything is perfect.
Between them and Jeoffry’s corporate assistant, everything is as expected for someone of his stature.
But after hours of being the grieving widow, I want all of these people out of my fucking house.
I sigh, rubbing at my temples as Sarah brings me a ginger ale inside a champagne glass. “Lifesaver, thank you.”
She nods, leaving me standing near the entrance of the large drawing room as I sip the drink slowly.
A few more people come to speak to me, but I check out mentally, giving them one-word responses until they finally move on to yap at someone else.
When my mother died, my dad didn’t allow us to hold a funeral.
Only keeping it intimate with my siblings before burying her on the estate.
For years, I thought it was callous and cruel, but maybe he was on to something, because I want nothing more than for this day to end.
A warm hand wraps around my arm and I startle, looking up at a clean-shaven Henry.
“Are you drunk?” he hisses.
I go to laugh, but a hiccup comes out of me instead, which makes me laugh harder. He watches me in disgust as I try to get a hold of myself, but the irony of the question and the situation has me nearly peeing myself. “N-no,” I stutter out, not even sounding convincing to myself.