Viola’s fork froze in the air. “Know what? He is a ninnyhammer and an imbecile. He knows nothing at all.” She knitted her forehead into a worried frown. “Unthinkable if he finds out.” She pushed the plate away, for suddenly the food made her nauseous.
“Of course he is an imbecile,” Josephine said hastily. “I beg your pardon for bringing him up. You are, of course, also very emotional these days. It is quite understandable and entirely normal. Not to mention the shock of the publication. But don’t you think he deserves the right to know?”
Viola played with the prongs of her fork. “Granted, I may be overreacting somewhat. But then, I probably am not.” She shrugged. “How could he be so entirely clueless? Oh, I don’t know. Men.”
“Yes. Men.” Josephine nodded. “They are clueless when it comes to these things. Sir William wasn’t any better, either, though he has improved over time. Still, you must tell him. He has a right to know.”
Viola tilted her head, furrowing her brow. “I do not think we are talking about the same topic. Let him know what, pray?”
Josephine smiled serenely. “That you are with child, of course.”
Viola dropped her fork.
Chapter Twenty
Viola could hardly untanglethe knot of feelings that pulled tight in her chest. Joy and hope mingled with disbelief; and beneath it all, the cold thread of fear.
It had been her deepest desire to have a child, one that had led to so much anguish. She had never held that child in her arms, and they had always felt empty since, yearning for something she had almost possessed but never did.
She had envied every mother she passed on the street, children in tow, and had believed for the longest time that such joy would remain forever out of reach.
And here she was again, on the cusp of motherhood.
Her hand crept over her stomach in wonder. A little life was growing inside her, and it was nothing short of miraculous.
Josephine was right. She would have to tell Sebastian.
Sebastian was not at home.
But her cousin was.
Viola found Georgiana pacing the drawing room, wringing her hands, when she entered.
“Viola, dear, such a scandal!” Georgiana fluttered towards her, fanning her face. “I hardly know where to begin.”
“Cousin Georgiana. And Lily.” Viola smiled at the girl as she rose from the sofa. The Season had not changed her; she appeared as cheerful and carefree as ever. “I haven’t seen you in a while. But whatever is the matter, Georgiana?” Her cousin was putting the most melodramatic Drury Lane actress to shame.
“Mama is reading far too much into things,” Lily said with a saucy smile. “I, of course, know nothing at all about what is going on. Not precisely. Not exactly. Since Mama won’t let me read those kinds of books.” She paused, eyes bright with mischief. “Apparently, it is the biggest scandal of the Season. But I have a fair idea, since my friend, Miss Emily Brightstone, told me about it. She doesn’t read those books either, let me add,” she added hastily. “But she was told about them by her cousin. Who then was approached by?—”
“Lily. I beg you, be quiet and sit down.” Georgiana turned back to Viola, seizing both her hands. “And you, my poor, poor girl. Who knew your husband was such a…a…my words fail me.”
“Rake,” Lily put in helpfully. “Libertine. Lothario. Don Juan.” She giggled.
“What?” Viola blinked. “Sebastian? You must be mistaken.”
“It’s all written in that book. Written by that woman. And for all the world to see.” Georgiana pressed a hand to her bosom and moaned.
“You don’t say, Cousin. Have you read the book yourself?” Viola was secretly delighted that Georgiana was one of her readers.
“Mama would never admit to it, but yes,” Lily whisperedsotto voce. “Stayed up all night, too.”
“Your husband is in that book.” Georgiana set her jaw. “It is the biggest scandal of the Season.”
Viola’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Nonsense.”
“Everyone is talking about it. It has to be Fane. And why would that woman put him into one of her books unless they had an, err, umm…”
“Indelicate relationship,” Lily supplied, and helped herself to a sugar plum from the tray the butler had brought in.
