Chapter Sixteen #2
“That she is married. And sharing a chamber with her husband. Who also happens to be your best friend.”
Dorian halted his pacing and stared at her disbelievingly.
Smiling knowingly, Amelia patted the mattress beside her. He sighed in resignation and sat with his feet still on the ground. “I do not know if it makes it better or worse that I know Brinley so well.”
“Do not torture yourself, my love,” Amelia said, trying not to make her amusement too obvious. “You’ve been a wonderful brother, but someone else is going to take care of her from now on. You have more family to concern yourself with now.”
He gave a small smile and rested his palm upon her belly in a gesture he did no less than a dozen times each day. “I know that. I only worry.”
Amelia covered his hand with hers. “I wouldn’t worry yourself overmuch. I believe she is in good hands.”
“I thought you did not care for Brinley.”
“I may not have always believed he was the best influence, but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones because I also believe he has cared for Clara a lot longer than anyone realized—perhaps even Brinley, himself.”
“How do you—”
“Women have their ways. Now, come to bed.”
Dorian did as he was bid, stripping off his clothing and joining her beneath the coverlet.
*
One week later, Clara and Pearce were comfortably settled in his Northumberland country estate.
The property lay in the southernmost location in the territory, meaning the journey to London was substantially shorter than if they had remained in Edinburgh.
This offered them a better position for the day it was deemed appropriate to step back into the heart of Society.
Additionally, Pearce had business he needed to see to at the property, so a short stay seemed practical after all the traveling they had done.
Once word of their arrival was spread, they began accepting calls from neighbors and well-wishers, though Clara had yet to meet her new father-in-law in person.
She thought that bit quite odd but said nothing to her husband.
The impression she’d formed was that the current Baron Brinley was not a man who placed a great deal of stock in forming personal attachments.
She thanked her lucky stars that Pearce had turned out to be nothing like his father.
He may have kept her at arm’s length, but that was not for lack of desire or feeling.
Pearce took her on a tour of the estate and the lands.
She was fascinated to learn just how hard Pearce worked and how powerful he was, even without having inherited his father’s title yet.
For all his persona of debauchery, he had clearly focused a great deal on his responsibilities and diversifying to keep up with the times and trends.
He impressed her to no end. The more she learned about him, the more she realized how much of his rough facade had been an affectation to keep people (namely respectable, marriage-minded women) at a safe distance—much like the way she’d learned to adapt her behavior to Society.
They were methods of defense in a world that did not always treat people kindly.
Though Pearce had begun the marriage adamant that they would share separate chambers, any remaining shreds of that pretense were immediately forgotten when they were settled in Northumberland.
She spent each night curled against his side in the spacious lord’s chamber.
Every now and then throughout the day, he would whisk her away and they’d tumble onto the bed laughing and kissing until they fell asleep, sated, their bodies entwined.
She and Pearce had adopted a happy rhythm, and he’d opened up to her so much; she cherished how close they had grown and hoped fervently that they might continue that path.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans for them.
*
One evening, after they’d already been in residence for a few weeks, Clara noted that Beth seemed unusually pensive and distracted. After she’d dropped a hairpin for the third time, Clara finally asked if all was well.
The maid chewed her lower lip for a moment before replying.
“I’ve been debating whether or not to bring it up, but it’s now the second month you’ve missed your courses, my lady.
It might still be nothing—you’ve been under a great deal of stress.
It might just be your body adjusting. It happens to many women when their lives undergo dramatic changes. ”
Clara froze and experienced an ice-cold moment of panic.
It must be nothing.
She’d trusted Pearce’s knowledge and relied upon his skill and experience to prevent the pregnancy he was so determined to avoid.
She did not know the slightest thing about contraception or any of the techniques a woman might use—it was not a topic she and her married friends had ever discussed because they had all been too fascinated with the exploration of intimacy.
Now, she sorely wished she’d thought to ask.
“Yes,” Clara started, her heart in her throat. “Perhaps it is stress. For now, say nothing to anyone—not even the other servants. I do not wish for anyone’s hopes to rise unnecessarily.” Or upset Pearce, without cause.
“Of course!” Beth agreed readily, and Clara trusted her. Her maid had always proven to be loyal, and there was no reason to think that might change now.
Pearce entered the chamber at that moment, and Beth ducked her head and excused herself without making eye contact with him.
“Are you feeling well? You look rather pale,” Pearce said to Clara.
“Perfectly fine; only a little tired,” she replied hoping her voice wasn’t shaking as badly as her hands were in her lap.