He stepped back, and Cordelia pushed herself into a sitting position.
“By my estimation, you are two months along… give or take a week.”
Cordelia nodded, then found her voice. “Thank you, Doctor Hartley.”
The physician reached for his brown leather bag. “I do not expect any complications as you seem perfectly healthy, however, should the need arise, send for me.”
“I will.” Cordelia swung her legs over the side of the mattress and sat.
“Good day, ladies.” The physician nodded, then took his leave.
Celia rushed to close the bedchamber door behind him, then hurried to sit in the chair across from the bed. “You must tell Lord Wolverton.”
“He hasn’t proposed since the night of the ball. I am quite certain he does not think of me or care what is happening.”
“I’d wager you are wrong.” Celia notched her chin.
“I do not wish to ruin his life,” Cordelia retorted, “Reveling my condition would only result in him offering marriage again.” She pressed her eyes shut and exhaled a long breath. “And he does not wish to marry me.”
Celia rubbed her temples. “Clearly, it will be futile to argue the point as you have already decided on your course.”
Cordelia met Celia’s gaze. “I have.”
“Oh, very well. Then tell me what you intend to do?” Celia leaned forward, her gaze sympathetic, though her forehead creased with worry.
Cordelia wrapped her arms around her midsection, her gaze moving to her belly. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice low.
“Tell him,” Celia urged. “Let him take care of you.”
Cordelia shook her head. She met Celia’s gaze and sighed. “I will figure something out. My twenty-sixth birthday is fast approaching. If I can hide my condition until then, I will gain my freedom and the funds that come with it.”
“Then what?” Celia pressed as she reached for Cordelia’s hand. “And what if someone discovers your condition before then?”
“They will not.” Cordelia gave a firm shake of her head. “Once my birthday comes, I will disappear. Start a new life somewhere far from here and live as a widow. No one will be the wiser.”
Celia worried her bottom lip for a moment as she studied Cordelia. “I do wish you would reconsider. Lord Wolverton has a right to know that he is to be a father. The child has a right to both of its parents, and you have a right to happiness. Think about it, Cordelia. What sort of life will you lead tucked away, alone in some quiet corner of England or France, or wherever? You will be lonely. Your child will grow up believing a lie.”
“There is nothing to think about other than how I will hide my pregnancy these next two-and-a-half months.” Cordelia stood and moved to the door, then pivoted back to face Celia. “I know you are only trying to help, but my mind is made up.”
“What if years from now, someone recognizes you? What if they know you are not a widow and share the information with anyone who cares to hear it? There will be no salvaging your reputation. No saving the child from ruin.”
Cordelia paused for a moment, considering the possibility, then put her hand on her hip. “That will not happen. I will live far from everyone who knows me and in a place no one frequents. We will be safe.”
Celia reached for Cordelia’s hand. “I do wish you would reconsider. It is not right to keep this from him.”
Cordelia narrowed her gaze as she stared at Celia. “Do not tell him.”
Celia pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It is a big secret to keep.”
“But keep it, you shall.” Cordelia collected her bonnet and smiled. “Thank you for you help, today. And for your silence on the matter.”
She prayed Celia would indeed remain silent.
