twenty-two
The worst part of Isabella’s predicament was that she had no one to talk about it with, aside from Lawson.
Even worse, she had to control herself all the time, lest her mother or sister understand what was happening. Hiding the fact she kept casting up her accounts and eating very little was difficult. Time was ticking away. Each day that passed was closer to the moment when she wouldn’t be able to hide the truth, and she didn’t have a plan.
She could send a message to Patrick, but an unexpected child wasn’t something that could be discussed via a letter. Besides, it would take weeks for the letter to reach Patrick, and more weeks for his reply to reach her. Meanwhile, she would be showing, and by the time they found an agreement, the baby would be born, and she would be living on the streets.
She lay in her bed, even though it was afternoon, but constant worries and nausea were an exhausting combination.
Helen entered the room, looking as fresh as a peach and absolutely pretty. “How are you? You’re spending a lot of time in bed as of late.”
“You’re spending a lot of time at tea parties.”
“They’re better than balls to find a husband, in my opinion. More talking in a shorter time. It’s easier to understand if the gentleman is a good match. And the more tea parties, the less time to take more lessons on being a lady.” Helen rubbed her forehead. “I feel ungrateful when I say that.”
“You shouldn’t. There’s nothing wrong in having your personal interests, and Mother can be tiring.”
Helen seemed aged a few years in a moment. “She can.”
“Are you going to marry that earl?”
“I don’t know.” Helen sat on the bed. “Mother keeps saying a duke would be better. The duke took you home the other day.”
“He was very kind.”
“Do you think he’ll answer my letters now?”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask him.”
Helen toyed with a ribbon on her skirt. “Mother says I should?—”
“Helen, please, stop doing everything Mother orders you to do.” She regretted her tone. But honestly, if she heard ‘Mother keeps saying’ one more time, she would yell at the top of her voice.
“It’s easy for you say that.” Helen sat up. “You’re strong-willed, and Mother doesn’t bother you as much as she bothers me.”
“Just tell her what you want or don’t want to do. Grow a spine, for Pete’s sake. It’s that simple.” Again, her frustration and worry crept into her voice, but she hadn’t meant to be so bitter. But everything was too much right now.
Helen flinched, her mouth opening.
Isabella sat up. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”
“Helen?” Mother called from the corridor. “We need to plan your week. Come quickly.”
Helen stooped her shoulders. “Plan my life is more correct.” She left before Isabella could say anything else.
“I’m sorry,” she said, but her sister was already gone. She lay back with a huff. Everything she did ended up a mess.
Lawson brought her mint tea. Tea was the only thing Isabella could drink without feeling sick.
“You should talk to your mother.” Lawson set aside a dirty cup and a book to make room for the tray.
“Mother will be horrified. She’ll demand to know who the father is, and it’ll be a disaster. Father will preach to me about having broken the rules, and I’ll be on the street before the week ends.”
“You have no choice. If you want to move to the country for the next few months, your mother must know.”
She sat upright. “Dozens of girls enjoy themselves constantly with no consequences. I have fun one single time, with all the precautions, and this happens.”
“There’s no point in ruminating about what happened. Focus on finding a solution. You should go to the estate in the Lake District to give birth,” Lawson said. “Far from London.”
