“Here, ma’am, the brandy will make you feel better.”
Olivia took a sip. “Thank you, Susie. I don’t know what I’d do without you to take care of me.”
The maid burst into tears.
“Don’t be distressing your mistress,” Mrs. Brougham said. “Come along with me. Lady Devereaux needs peace and quiet after her accident. Ethel can take care of her until the doctor arrives.”
Susie’s sobs only increased, and Olivia couldn’t help exhaling in relief as the housekeeper ushered her out, closing the door behind them. Her head throbbing, she closed her eyes and awaited the arrival of the doctor.
*
After Dr. Cheamexamined her, Olivia drew the bedsheets around herself to hide her embarrassment. Though given that he’d poked andprodded every inch of her, there was no longer any need for modesty.
The doctor dipped his hands into the washbowl then dried them on a cloth, and Olivia’s stomach tightened at the seriousness in his soft gray eyes.
“Is there anything the matter?” she said. “The pain in my ankle has subsided. Surely it’s not broken?”
“No, Lady Devereaux. It’s merely a bad sprain, exacerbated by your walking on it unbound before the original sprain was completely healed.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“You’re with child.”
“I-I’mwhat?”
He peered at her over the top of his glasses. “Perhaps you now appreciate the seriousness of the situation. A fall down a staircase is dangerous enough for any woman, let alone one in your condition. I take it you didn’t know?”
Hope flared in her heart and was almost immediately tempered by fear as she recalled the stark words that her husband had written.
I hope to God you are not.
“Dr. Cheam, are you obliged to tell anyone about my condition?”
“What happens between a doctor and his patient is nobody else’s concern. Only when lives are in danger am I permitted to break my oath of confidentiality.”
“A-and…my husband?”
His expression softened. “No, my dear, not even your husband has a right to know—though, of course, he’ll discover the truth eventually. But I’ll leave you to tell him in your own time.”
“Thank you.”
Olivia blinked and a tear slid down her cheek. Dr. Cheam produced a handkerchief and handed it to her.
“F-forgive me,” she said. “I should be happy. Most husbands want an heir, don’t they?”
He smiled. “It’s a failing among my sex—the instinctive need for a son. I myself have four daughters, but I don’t love them any less for not being boys. And my eldest is proving to be a better helpmate than a son could ever be—she’s studying to be a doctor, and I intend for her to take over my practice.”
“Then she’s most fortunate,” Olivia said, her mind drifting to poor Euphramia Lucas, who, despite being more capable than her father Dr. Lucas, was rarely given the chance to use her skills. “I have an acquaintance, a doctor’s daughter, who is not given such consideration.”
“I daresay she’d refute your claim to her good fortune when she’s required to rise before dawn to tend to a long confinement.”
Confinement…
Olivia swallowed the ripple of fear, and the doctor placed a hand on her arm.
“A confinement is nothing to fear,” he said. “Not as it once was. And every activity carries a certain degree of risk, does it not? Even walking up the stairs. Now—I have a tonic I’ll leave with you to alleviate your sickness. And I’d recommend eating little and often throughout the day to stave off the bouts of dizziness.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
