“Please be careful, Nathaniel.”
He looked grim. “My hunting rifle’s in the study. I’ll load it.” He turned to the maid, who had just returned. “Stay until I come back, Agnes. Lock the door and don’t answer it to anyone but me.”
Agnes gaped at him. “Yes, milord.”
Laura sipped the brandy while the maid bound up her cuts. A little woozy, she drifted off to sleep. She dreamt that Nathaniel had been hurt. Waking with a start, she found he’d returned and sent the maid away. She still trembled withshock.
“Stay with me,” she begged, holding out herarms.
“No one was lurking about the grounds. I won’t leave you again tonight. Sleep, my love.”
He stretched out beside her and gathered her into his arms. She coiled up against his reassuringly strong body and fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When the doctor came the following morning, he confirmed Laura’s pregnancy. “Do you think I’ll keep my baby?” Laura asked him in a desperatewhisper.
“Difficult to tell,” the doctor said. “I would advise you to remain in bed for at least two or three days to be on the safe side. We’ll know more after that. Shall I congratulate Lord Lanyon?”
“Not until we’re sure, Doctor Owens.”
Laura lay back on the pillows. If her mother knew of this, she’d demand her to return to London and have the best doctor from the Royal College of Physicians attend her. And she didn’t trust Nathaniel not to agree with her mother. Just a few days and then she would tell him.
Cilla came to inquire after Laura when she failed to keep their appointment for the sitting. She didn’t tell Nathaniel about the portrait, for which Laura was grateful; she wanted to see the painting first. It might not be flattering, and the glowing portrait of Amanda was a constant reminder of Nathaniel’s first wife, whose incomparable beauty must have once ensnared him, if not at the end of her life. It was as if Cilla had poured all her love into that portrait. Love? The thought gave Laura pause. Might Cilla have been in love with Amanda? But Cilla had spoken so bluntly of her faults, Laura doubted it could beso.
After two days in bed, which bored her to distraction, the worrying sensation in her stomach eased. When she rose the following morning, apart from her cuts and scratches, she felt extremelywell.
Nathaniel had not left her side during the night, his rifle propped close by the bed. Yesterday, the constable questioned her, but she could tell him nothinghelpful.
“Let’s go over it again,” Nathaniel said, as they ate in the breakfast room. He smiled. “Judging by your appetite, you seem to have recovered from your ordeal.”
Laura put down her knife and fork. She’d eaten two eggs and a pile of bacon and nibbled at a piece of toast and jam. “I saw a man in dark clothes sobbing.”
“Try and think now, anything you might remember.”
She took a sip of tea and returned her cup to its saucer. “He was turned away from me, and the room was in shadow. I smelled something odd though.”
Nathaniel leaned closer. “What exactly? A lingering perfume, tobacco, a man’s body odor, tallow? We use beeswax here.”
Laura’s mind swirled like a London fog. “I’m sure there was tallow, but that’s not it.” She frowned and rubbed her forehead. “Something that shouldn’t have been there.”
“Don’t worry about it now, darling.” Nathaniel placed his hand over hers and gave it asqueeze.
“It will come to me eventually. I have a good memory.” Laura took a last bite of toast and eyed the fruit bowl as she considered a banana. “I’m so hungry. I can’t understand it. Maybe it’s shock.”
“It probably is.” Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose when Laura gave into temptation and reached for thefruit.
“It’s a treat to find a banana here. I do love them so.” She peeled back the skin and then took a bite, enjoying the smooth, sweet taste. “I do wish I could remember at least something to help you.”
Nathaniel looked pensive. “Don’t concern yourself with it now. It may come to you later.”
Rudge came in to replenish the tea, and they lapsed into silence. Laura studied Rudge as he fussed around the sideboard, narrow-shouldered in his dark suit. He was a slightly built man. She remembered how he spoke of Amanda when he showed Laura the painting. She’d laughed at him, Cilla had said. Had he been obsessed with Amanda? Enough to want to kill her, as well as the woman he considered ausurper?
The butler exited the room. “How did Rudge get on with Amanda?”
“Very well. She had him eating out of her hand.”
“He was in love with her,” Laurasaid.
