Chapter 3
Seven weeks later…
She was going to be sick. Cordelia placed a hand on her roiling belly and made haste for the chamber pot. Heaven help her. She knelt on her bedchamber floor as she cast up her accounts. She could no longer deny that something was amiss.
She wiped her mouth with an embroidered handkerchief, then sat back on her heels. Her mind roamed back to that day in Nathaniel’s library. The day she’d given herself to him. Her cheeks flamed at the delicious memory before her stomach churned anew.
Dear Lord, could she be carrying his child?
Cordelia searched her mind, trying to recall the last time her courses had come.
They hadn’t. Not since before she’d made love to Nathaniel. Her mind raced, counting the weeks. Eight, nine. She hadn’t bled in nearly nine weeks. Her body went weak at the realization.
Dear God, she was going to be sick again.
Cordelia bent over the chamber pot, her head spinning, heart racing, and stomach-churning. What on earth was she to do?
She was going to be a mother.
Nathaniel was going to be a father.
She gripped the sides of the chamberpot. Her parents were going to kill her!
Cordelia could already hear her mother’s sobs. Her father’s anger. They would say, “four seasons, you had four seasons to make a proper match. You had so much potential, but you threw it all away and ruined yourself. This is how you repay us for all we’ve done for you?”
They would be furious. She certainly would not receive any support from them. Cordelia sighed and closed her eyes. She had enough to fret about. She’d not add her parents’ reactions to the pending storm.
Cordelia had long ago accepted she would be a spinster. She was looking forward to the day she could leave her parent’s home and embark on her own life. Though she did not know what that life would look like now. She only knew that she still wanted it.
She certainly could not remain with her parents.
Mother meant well, but was far too overbearing and meddlesome. She was often cruel as she ‘guided’ Cordelia through life. Father, mostly, could not be bothered with her. Cordelia was nothing more than an inconvenient daughter at worst and a fancy decoration at best.
She blew out a slow breath, then rose to her feet and moved to the mirror. Mother often blamed Cordelia’s lack of traditional beauty and feminine skills for her unsuccessful seasons. The words were hurtful, even though Cordelia did not believe them.
Cordelia had long thought her mother’s ways scared off potential suitors. In her first season, there had been a couple of gentlemen who took an interest in her. But, when mother started pushing for marriage offers, the gentleman seemed to back away.
The harder mother pressed, and the more she shoved Cordelia into the path of eligible men, the fewer men paid attention to her. No one had ever offered for her—save for a lord three times her age.
Father was livid when Cordelia turned down the proposal. He did not care that the lord was old enough to be her grandfather. Not when he had a lofty title and overflowing coffers.
None of that mattered now. There would be no more offers, and she was thankful for it. Mother, too, would cease her meddling. Though Cordelia was sure to hear some cruel words first. She flinched, knowing that Mother would give her a proper dressing down when she discovered Cordelia’s condition.
If she really was carrying Nathaniel’s child.
Father would no doubt call her awful names and cause her of bringing disgrace on the family. Never mind that his affairs were an endless source of gossip. Father flaunted his mistresses with no regard for how his behaviors shamed and embarrassed Mother and her. In Cordelia’s opinion, his behavior provided another reason for suitable gentlemen to avoid her.
She pulled her chemise over her head and let it drop to the floor. Then stared into the long cheval glass near her vanity table. Splaying her fingers over her abdomen, she studied at her reflection.
The gentle curve of her stomach had not changed, nor were her breasts any fuller. Still, her menses had not come, and she found herself sick every morning. Seven weeks had passed since Nathaniel bedded her. Perhaps she was not far enough along to notice changes?
Something was definitely amiss, and pregnancy was the only thing that made sense. A tiny glimmer of hope sprang to life in her heart.
Cordelia had always dreamed of being a mother. She’d shoved the dream to the back of her mind and buried it beneath new visions of an independent life. None the less, her previous dreams remained in the recesses of her mind.
She smiled as she stared at her abdomen and imagined a baby growing inside her. A little cherub with her blue eyes and Nathaniel’s curly blond hair. Would they have a son or a daughter?
It did not signify. Either way, she would protect and cherish the child—if there was a baby. She had to find out for sure. One way or the other, she had to know.
