“I have a friend—Lady Berber. Lord Berber has a small estate, really more a hunting lodge, near here. I told Mr. Waterstone that Lady Berber had fallen ill and asked for me.”
Lucy didn’t recall a Lady Berber, but that meant little. She had rarely been introduced to Sally’s friends.
Her stepmother’s lips tightened as a pot of steaming tea was placed between them. Fingers twisting the handkerchief in her hands, Sally said, “The situation—has taken a toll on Mr. Waterstone, I fear.”
“The situation?” Lucy didn’t touch her tea. Nor the biscuits that came on a pretty flowered plate.
“Your marriage and our debts.”
“My marriage is none of your concern.” Sally hadn’t even asked if Lucy was happy. “Your debts are none of mine.”
“That is certainly true,” Sally agreed. “But I worry for Mr. Waterstone’s health.” Her voice grew thick. “He collapsed after breakfast last week, falling to the floor and knocking over his plate.” She looked down at her hands. “The physician claims his heart is…under strain due to our circumstances.”
Lucy loved her father, but she didn’t like him. Or trust him. But neither did she wish him dead. She glanced at her stepmother. Her feelings for Sally were less gray.
“I blame myself, you see.” Sally raised tear-filled eyes to Lucy.
“For your lavish overspending?” Lucy asked.
Sally’s features sharpened, and she looked away once more. “No. I—recently informed him of my condition, and while once he might have found such news joyous, now…” Sally dabbed at another tear. “Well, now it has only added to his worries. He’ll be furious once he realizes I’ve sought you out.”
“Your condition?” Lucy suddenly wished she had run all the way back to Pendergast at the first sight of Sally.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Nor does Mr. Waterstone,” she wailed. “But I’m hopeful you might have some affection for…your new brother or sister.” Sally’s hand fell to her mid-section with a gentle smile.
Lucy’s gaze dropped to Sally’s waist. There was no sign of?—
The very idea unsettled her to such a degree, her tongue dared to stick to the inside of her teeth once more. “You are with child,” she finally got out.
“I am.” Her stepmother sobbed. “We’d been praying for so long. I had given up hope. I remained barren in my first marriage, and—we never imagined I would have a child. But it is a blessing, one we do not deserve.”
“Congratulathuns.” Lucy winced at the hated lisp. Gone for weeks, and after less than a quarter-hour in Sally’s company, it returned with a vengeance. Of all the reasons she’d imagined Father or Sally seeking her out once more, she had not accounted forthis.
“I am here for the sake of the child.” Sally dabbed at her eyes. “Not my sake. Or your father’s.” She placed a protective palm over her stomach. “As you can probably guess, Dufton was…”She looked away. “Quite furious when you married Estwood. He wanted to make you his countess.”
“Not as much as he wanted Marsden.”
Sally looked taken aback. “The match was an excellent one.”
“I disagree.”
“It hardly matters now. Dufton has made business matters difficult for Mr. Waterstone. The sum from Pendergast wasn’t nearly enough, and now—well, your father had to sell his horse farm.” Sally sobbed harder, her shoulders trembling. “Itbrokehim, daughter.”
“Yet he had no such reluctance insellingme. I believe his exact words were that he would drug me with laudanum if need be to get me before the vicar.”
Sally wiped at one eye. “So you overheard his unfortunate choice of words. He was only worried over our circumstances. He never would have done such a thing. I don’t understand how you could have chosen Estwood. You would have been the wife of a prominent man had you wed Dufton. Wealthy. Your place in society assured. How is that so terrible?”
Lucy’s entire body stiffened as anger coursed through her. “Do not dare to suggest Father even considered my well-being. He only sought to make himself whole.”
Sally fell back in her chair at the vehemence in her tone. “Lucy.”
“And Dufton was so wonderful, he threatened to have me put in a sanitarium, like his first wife.” Lucy made sure to keep her words clear. “That is who you and Father wanted me to marry foryourown good, not mine. Do not pretend to be ignorant of his reputation. You knew what he might do to me.”
Sally had the decency to look down at her lap, unable to refute a word.
“I assume you want money.”
“That is rather impolite.” Sally’s hand raised to toy with the handle of her teacup.
