Chapter 16 #2
They'd all stopped riding now, forming a loose circle on the bridle path. The Duchess looked between them with the expression of someone watching a theatrical performance.
"Perhaps," Harrington suggested, "we should discuss something more pleasant."
"Indeed," Arabella agreed. "Let's discuss how you really met Lady Velott. Because I have it on good authority it wasn't at a funeral."
"What authority?" Cassandra demanded.
"Lady Potts. She's quite the correspondent. Mentioned you were seen at a gaming den in London, Mr. Harrington. With significant debts."
"Gossip," Harrington said dismissively.
"Facts, actually. Lord Potts owns the establishment. He has records."
Lucien looked at his wife with newfound admiration. When had she been investigating?
"Debts which," Arabella continued, "mysteriously disappeared after you began escorting Lady Velott."
"Are you implying..."
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating facts. You needed money, she needed a companion who would support her version of events. A mutually beneficial arrangement."
"Like your marriage?" Cassandra snapped.
"Exactly like our marriage," Arabella agreed cheerfully. "Except ours is based on love rather than revenge."
"Love," Cassandra laughed. "You barely knew each other."
"And yet we know each other better after three months than you knew Lucien after three years."
"That's not..."
"True? Of course it is. You never knew him at all. You saw a title, wealth, position. You never saw the man."
"And you did? After five days?"
"After five minutes, actually. The moment he pulled me from that lake, annoyed and sarcastic and yet still saving me. I saw exactly who he was."
"Wet and angry?" the Duchess suggested helpfully.
"Honourable and kind," Arabella corrected. "Even when he didn't want to be."
Lucien reached over, taking her hand despite the awkwardness of being on horseback. "The moment I pulled you from that lake," he said quietly, "I saw exactly who you were too."
"Drowning and ridiculous?"
"Brave and impossible."
"I wasn't drowning."
"You were definitely drowning."
"This argument again?" Cassandra interrupted. "How tedious."
"Then leave," Lucien suggested. "No one invited you, no one wants you here, and no one will miss you when you go."
"The Duchess..."
"The Duchess," Her Grace interrupted, "is wondering why you thought it appropriate to crash my house gathering to harass my invited guests."
"I was invited!"
"Mr. Harrington was invited. Before I knew of his... circumstances. You were not."
"You can't throw me out."
"I can, actually. It's my house."
"The scandal..."
"Will be yours. The woman so desperate for revenge she crashed a duchess's house gathering." The Duchess smiled, and it wasn't pleasant. "Leave, Lady Velott. Today. Or I'll have you removed."
Cassandra went white, then red. "This isn't over."
"Yes," Lucien said firmly, "it is."
She wheeled her horse around and galloped back toward the house, Harrington following after a moment's hesitation.
"Well," the Duchess said brightly, "that was invigorating. Shall we continue?"
The rest of the ride was pleasant, with the other guests carefully avoiding any mention of the confrontation. But Arabella grew progressively quieter, and Lucien noticed her grip on the reins becoming white-knuckled.
"Are you well?" he asked quietly.
"Fine."
"You're pale."
"It's the air."
"The air is making you pale?"
"It's very... airy."
"Arabella..."
She swayed suddenly, and he barely caught her before she could fall from her mount. The riding party erupted in concern as he lifted her from her saddle to his, cradling her against his chest.
"I'm fine," she protested weakly.
"You fainted."
"I swooned. It's more romantic."
"This isn't funny."
"It's a little funny."
"We're going back. Now."
For once, she didn't argue, which worried him more than the fainting. He rode back carefully, her body limp against his, her face buried in his neck.
"Don't you dare die," he muttered.
"Wasn't planning on it."
"Good. Because I'd be very angry."
"Can't have that."
"I'd probably become a complete beast again."
"You were never a complete beast. Partial at best."
They reached the house, where the Duchess had sent riders ahead to alert the staff. A physician was already waiting, a competent-looking older man who took one look at Arabella and ushered them to their chambers.
"I need to examine her ladyship," he said firmly. "Alone."
"I'm not leaving," Lucien said.
"It's fine," Arabella said. "Go terrify some footmen or something."
"Arabella..."
"Please, Lucien. Just... give us a moment."
He left reluctantly, pacing the hallway like a caged animal. Julian appeared after what felt like hours but was probably twenty minutes.
"Heard your wife swooned dramatically," he said.
"She fainted."
"She swooned. Much more romantic."
"Julian..."
"She's fine, Lucien. Probably just the excitement."
"She's been sick every morning for a few days now."
Julian's eyebrows rose. "Every morning?"
"Yes."
"Just the mornings?"
"Yes."
"And she's tired? Emotional? Perhaps her courses are..."
"How on earth would I know about her courses?"
"You're married. These things are discussed."
"Not in our marriage."
"My goodness, you're both innocents." Julian shook his head. "Lucien, think. Morning sickness, fainting, emotional..."
The realization hit him like a physical blow. "She's... you think she's..."
"With child? Almost certainly."
"But we've only been married three months."
"And you've been enthusiastically married for all three months."
"That's not..."
"Please don't finish that sentence. I've seen you two. You can barely keep your hands off each other."
The door opened, and the physician emerged, smiling.
"Congratulations, Lord Blackthorn. Your wife is expecting."
The world tilted slightly. Lucien reached for the wall.
"Don't you dare faint too," Julian said. "One person fainting per family."
"I don't swoon."
"You're swaying."
"Strategic movement."
"Sit down before you fall down."
Lucien pushed past them both, entering the chamber to find Arabella propped up in bed, looking pale but radiant.
"So," she said, "apparently we're having a baby."
"Apparently?"
"Well, definitely. But apparently sounds less terrifying."
He crossed to her in three strides, pulling her into his arms. "You knew."
"I suspected."
"Why didn't you tell me?"