“I remember.”
He kissed his mother and left her. He wished he could cancel it. He had no taste for it. The thought that he could lose his mother devastated him so much his throat hurt. He needed Nellie.
He found her seated in her bedchamber. She clutched her handkerchief, her eyes red, her smile encouraging. “Your mother might surprise you and be with us for far longer than the doctor says. There is much to keep her here.”
“Jason and Beverly’s baby?”
“Yes.” She turned the crumpled handkerchief in her hands. “Beverly promised to return here with the baby as soon as they are able to travel.”
He bent and drew her up into his arms. Nuzzling her neck, he breathed in her flowery scent, which he’d missed so much. “And if we should be blessed, that would please Mother even more, would it not?”
“I’m sure it would,” Nellie murmured. She cradled his face in her hands. “But our baby might be a girl.”
“I shall be delighted to have a daughter. I don’t think we should wait any longer, though, do you?”
Nellie shook her head.
He took her hand and led her over to the bed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
There was a tender light in Charles’s eyes. He cradled Nellie’s face in his hands and pressed kisses to her cheeks, her forehead, chin, and nose. He took her mouth, and his kisses grew more demanding and passionate. She had denied her feelings for him for months, and starved of him, made love to him with wild abandon, until they both fell back, hot and panting.
She watched the worry lines ease on his forehead as he lay beside her, his wide chest rising and falling in slumber, then she curled up beside him, heavy and sated. It would be difficult to keep her suspicions from him. Next week she would be sure. But for now, she didn’t want him to become too concerned about her. Marian had reassured her that making love would not harm the baby. She closed her eyes and slept.
The next morning, when Charles reached for her again, she wanted so much to tell him she loved him. He needed her, but she didn’t know if it was love he felt. What if he felt compelled to respond? Or worse, said nothing?
The following week was spent quietly as they watched for signs of improvement in his mother. Nellie spent some time with Catherine every afternoon. She seemed brighter. They chatted, and Catherine expressed an interest in Nellie’s literary salon. “I wish I could have seen Byron,” she said with a wistful sigh. “I met him once, a splendid poet.”
“The ladies all enjoyed it. I might see if he’ll visit us again when you are able to be present.” Nellie smiled, feeling that such enthusiasm from Catherine must be a good sign.
Nellie told her about the orphanage. She had received a letter from Mrs. Perlew, thanking her for the food and clothing and advising her of the improvements to the building and the benefits to the children brought about by Nellie’s patronage.
The children were all comfortably fed and clothed, and with the injection of funds from Nellie, were being taught to read to enable them to find work when they left the orphanage. But she despaired that so many homeless roamed the streets of London, prey to danger and starvation. She took in more every day. She would soon need to find bigger premises and had an eye on a building in Cheapside. Nellie immediately wrote back with the promise to do more when she returned to London.
Going to her bedchamber, Nellie heard Lilly crying in the dressing room. She found her maid seated on a chair, her head bowed over the sewing basket in her lap, one of Nellie’s shifts in her hands.
Nellie placed a hand on the girl’s heaving shoulder. “Lilly, whatever is the matter?”
“I am a bit troubled, Your Grace.”
She was usually such a contented soul, Nellie grew alarmed. “Why? What on earth has happened to upset you?”
“I didn’t want to worry you, Your Grace, not with the dowager duchess so ill.”
Nellie took her by the elbow. “Come into the sitting room. We can have a nice talk. There’s always a means of dealing with troubles.” Dreading what the girl had to tell her, Nellie joined her on the sofa. That valet of Charles’s, she thought with a rush of anger. She never trusted the fellow. She should have been more observant. Why had Charles kept him on?
“It’s Mr. Feeley.”
Nellie stiffened and nodded. “What has he done?”
“He is going back to County Cork.”
“I see. And is there something you’d like to tell me?” she asked, expecting the worst.
“Feeley refuses to take me with him.”
“Does he indeed!” So he was escaping and leaving her maid pregnant! “Has he taken liberties with you, Lilly?”
Lilly nodded.
Furious, Nellie tried to stay calm. “Are you with child?”
Lilly’s eyes widened. “Oh no, Your Grace.”
Nellie put a hand over hers. “Can you be sure?”
“I am perfectly sure I’m not, Your Grace.” Lilly blushed. “He never did the deed, that is, he wouldn’t… I wouldn’t have said no, though. I love him.”
“I see.” Although she didn’t see at all. Had she accused the man unfairly? “It’s just as well then.”
“But if he had, and I was with child, then he would’ve had to take me with him, wouldn’t he?”
Nellie sighed. “I’m not sure that’s necessarily so. Is this what upsets you? That he won’t marry you?”
“He says it is better for me to remain in your employ. His family is poor, and he must find work, which could part us from each other.”
Nellie nodded. Had he been dallying with her maid? Didn’t he care about her? “Has he taken any liberties at all?”
“We kissed, and…” Her blush deepened. “But not that. I do know. I am a country girl, Your Grace.”
Nellie nodded, relieved. She must speak to Charles. “Leave it to me. I shall see what can
