Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Edith sighed and allowed the heavy brocade curtains at her bedchamber window to drop back into place. Just as she’d expected, she hadn’t seen hide or hair of Mr. McTaggart since their parting last night.
No doubt he’d been too foxed to remember his impulsive proposal when he woke this morning, or worse, he remembered well enough and wished he’d minded his tongue better.
Either way Edith wasn’t going to mope about feeling sorry for herself.
She’d never truly believed his offer of marriage had been real.
Hoped, but not believed.
She sighed again, feeling like one of those maudlin heroines in the gothic novels Lady Thorne favored.
The baroness invited Edith to browse the library at her leisure and choose any books she liked, but Edith was not an avid reader.
She hadn’t finished the book Lady Thorne loaned her at the start of their stay at Aldmist Fell.
It was senseless to hang onto it if she wasn’t going to read it, especially with Lady Thorne’s sister Pearl visiting.
Edith had never seen anyone devour novels the way Pearl did.
Grabbing the book from her bedside table, Edith left her chambers and headed toward the library. As she neared Lavinia’s chambers, the sound of muffled sobs carried into the shadowed corridor. Edith froze outside the door.
She disliked like the idea of eavesdropping, yet she couldn’t ignore the sound of her friend crying. She strained to listen for Lord St. Ambrose’s deep voice providing comfort, but she heard no one besides Lavinia.
Tentatively, Edith knocked. When no answer came, she eased the door open just a crack. Lavinia lay reclined on the bed, her face turned away. Slipping inside, Edith closed the door gently behind her.
“May I come in?” she asked softly.
Lavinia didn’t sit up or turn toward her. She simply cried harder, her body shuddering with each hiccuping sob.
Edith hurried around the bed, dropping the book on the marble-topped table. Her friend’s eyes were red and swollen, her complexion blotchy.
“Lavinia, what is wrong?”
Lavinia squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Gently, Edith nudged her over and sat beside her, brushing stray strands of hair from her face.
“I’m here,” Edith crooned. “Have a good cry.”
Lavinia looked up at her, blue-green eyes shimmering, then buried her face in the covers and sobbed even harder. True to her word, Edith stayed close, gently comforting her until the tears finally subsided. When Lavinia quieted, Edith retrieved a damp cloth from the washstand.
Lavinia sat up, shoulders slumped. “Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze lowered.
Edith waited quietly while Lavinia dabbed away her tears. When she finished, Edith took the cloth back to the washstand, then returned to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.
Lavinia grasped her hand, her grave expression foreshadowing dreadful news. Edith’s heart slammed against her ribs as she braced herself.
“I—” Lavinia’s voice broke into a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”
Edith clenched her teeth, the muscles in her jaw twitching. If the marquess had tossed Lavinia aside after discovering her condition, Edith was going to bloody his nose.
Better yet, she would ask Mr. McTaggart to do the job. He would do almost anything for Lady Thorne and her kin. Edith had a feeling he’d relish the chance to punch a Sassenach, too, especially one who deserved it.
“That dirty, despicable blackguard!” She hopped off the bed. “Is he still in the castle?”
Lavinia blinked at her. “Who? St. Ambrose?”
Edith planted her hands on her hips. “Of course, St. Ambrose. Tell me where he is, and I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”
When Lavinia continued to stare with a slack jaw, Edith waved an impatient hand. “Forget I asked. You’re in shock, you poor dear. I will find him myself.”
She turned for the door, a storm of righteous fury brewing within her.
“No!” Lavinia sprang from the bed, nearly tackling her to the floor.
A plush chair broke Edith’s fall, leaving her sprawled across it.
“For pity’s sake!” Edith glanced over her shoulder, meeting Lavinia’s shocked gaze. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“I’m so sorry.” Lavinia rushed forward, fumbling to hook her arms under Edith’s. “Did I hurt you?”
She wasn’t strong enough to lift Edith, and with Edith's arms stuck straight out from her shoulders, she couldn't push herself up.
“Just let go,” Edith snapped. “You shouldn’t be lifting in your condition.”
Lavinia released her and stepped back. “Sorry.”
After wrestling her skirts into submission, Edith managed to stand. She plopped onto the chair with an exhausted sigh, then yanked her skirts to straighten them.
Lavinia giggled.
Edith shot her a glower.
“Sorry,” Lavinia said again, then burst into laughter, doubling over and holding her stomach. If she was truly contrite, she had an odd way of showing it.
“Lavinia!”
She laughed even harder. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Edith couldn't help joining in. She didn't even know what was funny—Lavinia was having a baby and her benefactor might have ended their association—yet they both laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks.
Eventually, their laughter subsided. Lavinia sat on the arm of the chair, offering a watery smile. “I’m truly sorry."
Edith sobered, hesitant to voice her fears. “Is he leaving you?”
“He doesn’t know,” Lavinia said, dropping her gaze.
Edith swiveled toward her. “But you are with child. How do you expect to keep this from him?”
“I promise to tell him once we are back in London. If August finds out now, he’ll insist we marry, and here in Scotland, there are fewer obstacles.”
“How can you even consider rejecting him now? Think about your child.”
“I am aware of the consequences.” Lavinia surged to her feet, pacing several steps before turning to face Edith.
“It’s still early. What if the pregnancy does not progress as it should?
If August marries me now and something happens…
” Tears welled in her eyes. “I couldn’t bear knowing he could have married better. ”
Edith huffed. “St. Ambrose would be the first to tell you there’s no one better suited for him. You must tell him. He deserves to make the choice for himself.”
“I will tell him,” Lavinia said, her voice softening.
“But I want us to be safely away from Aldmist Fell before I do. And I don’t know if I can keep my condition a secret for three more weeks.
I need to convince him to take me back to London soon.
” She returned to where Edith sat, kneeling before her.
“I know you love it here at the castle, but if you plan to return with me, would you be willing to leave earlier? I’m desperate to get away from this place. ”
Edith’s heart sank. She did love Aldmist Fell, and she would miss it, along with the wonderful new friends she had begun to make. But Lavinia was her dearest friend. She had saved Edith’s life.
Her throat tightened as she thought about leaving—about never again seeing Ismay, Mrs. McTaggart, or the entire McTaggart clan. Worse still, never having another adventure with Mr. McTaggart, even though she had been so put out with him earlier.
Lavinia smiled sadly. “You needn’t answer now. Promise to give it careful thought, and if you choose to stay, I will understand.”
Lavinia might understand, but Edith would still feel as though she were disappointing her.
“I promise,” she murmured.