“Here.” Jane handed her a cool washcloth.
Betty took it, wiped her mouth, and then held the cloth over her face. The eruption in her stomach had settled. That was how it had been. Once she vomited, she felt better.
“Do you want me to tell Father you’re too ill to go out?” Jane asked.
“No.” Betty heaved out a sigh and removed the cloth. “I’ll be fine in a moment.” She sat on the floor and leaned the back of her head against the edge of the sink. “James is excited to go to the restaurant.”
Jane sat down on the floor. “So?”
Betty shook her head at Jane.
“Horsefeathers! The idea of going out with him makes you so sick you throw up, yet you—”
“He’s not that bad,” Betty insisted. “I’ve told you that, including yesterday when you threw cake on him.”
“I didn’t throw cake on him,” Jane said. “And yes he is.”
Betty closed her eyes and forced herself to not compare James to Henry because she cried when she did that.
“Do you really think you can spend the rest of your life with him?” Jane asked.
“Yes,” Betty said. It would be boring, but she could do it because that was who she was. She’d tried being someone she wasn’t, and that hadn’t worked out. She’d broken every rule, and her heart. James would never do that to her.
“Piffle!” Jane leaned her head back against the bathtub and stared at the ceiling. “Think of your children! A room full of dull, boring slugs.”
Betty had to swallow around the hard lump that formed in her throat. Children. Her body began to tremble. It hadn’t even been four weeks since she’d seen Henry. And he’d... No. No. She pressed hand to her stomach. That couldn’t have happened. It was not possible. She shot to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Jane asked.
Betty didn’t answer as she ran for her room.
Before she arrived, Father’s bellow echoed up the stairs, telling her James was downstairs, waiting on her.
Tears formed in her eyes.
Jane grabbed her arm. “I knew it. You don’t like him.”
Betty shook her head and tried to breathe.
“I’ll tell him—”
“No!” Betty swallowed hard. “Tell him I need a minute.”
Jane shook her head.
“Yes. Please, Jane.” Her anxiety was reaching a boiling point. “Please! I just need a minute.”
“Fine!” Jane stomped off.
Betty ran into her room and flipped the calendar hanging on the wall to the previous month. Stared at the date she’d put an X on. Her last monthly visit. She leaned her head against the wall. She’d thought she’d already broken every rule.
It took her far more than a minute to compose herself. Then she went back to the bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face, and twisted her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. She glanced in the mirror and instantly recalled an image of her and her sisters putting on makeup and getting ready to sneak out. That had been fun. Exciting to defy the rules. She’d pay for that for the rest of her life.
She willed herself to turn around and leave the room.
Mother and Jane met her at the bottom of the stairs. “You look lovely, darling. Although a little pale.” Mother pinched her cheeks. “A woman should always want to look nice for her husband, before they are married and afterward. Otherwise he’ll look elsewhere.”
“If only she could be so lucky,” Jane said dryly.
Mother’s lips pursed as she looked at Jane. “Your father chose James because he is a very wealthy man. He can provide Betty with everything she’ll ever want.”
Betty fought to keep the tears at bay. A baby. That was what she’d always wanted, but there were rules about that, too. Marriage first and then a baby. Not the other way around.
James walked out of Father’s office, and his expression upon seeing her was, well, dull. He smiled, but there was no shine in his eyes, no handsome glow on his face, nothing that even remotely sparked a hint of joy inside her.
Years of being seen and not heard played into her favor as James escorted her out of the house and into his car. She didn’t say a word, merely nodded as he talked. And talked. In a dull monotone. Nothing like Henry’s voice.
Her eyes filled with tears as she recalled their last conversation.
If there are any repercussions from this evening, I will provide for you.
That was fine and dandy but she had no idea where he was, how to find him, and even if she did, he didn’t have a house, a home. Those were things she wanted. Things a baby needed.
Provide. Money. That was what he’d said because he’d never be home. He’d be going from one job to the next, chasing down criminals. She didn’t need money. She needed a husband.
She took a handkerchief out of her purse and dried her eyes.
“Allergies?” James asked. “I have them, too. I was just at the new clinic—maybe you should go there.”
A clinic was the last place she needed to go right now. She squeezed her temples, and nearly leaped out of the car as soon as he parked along the curb in front of the restaurant.
They were only a block away from the newspaper office, and she couldn’t help but think about Patsy and Lane. They’d looked so in love yesterday. So happy.
So not pregnant and engaged to a worm.
Betty chided herself right then and there for calling him that. She was just at her wit’s end, and James was not helping. He was talking about hives from a bee sting.
She rushed into the restaurant as soon as he opened the door, pretending to be enthralled with the lush, elegant surroundings. There were crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, a
