Jeremy looked up when she appeared at the top of the stairs, standing as silent as a wraith. He hurried up the stairs and followed Alys into the sickroom, shutting the door behind him. Mistress Ashcombe was asleep, but he kept his voice low, just in case, and his face was tense with worry. He could plainly see the state she was in.
“Alys, are you ill?” he asked.
Alys opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was a wail of desperation. She was trembling so badly, her teeth were chattering.
Jeremy pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple, holding her close until the shaking subsided. “Sweetheart, what is it?” he asked softly. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”
Alys sobbed into his chest. “I’m with child,” she finally managed to choke out.
“Are you certain?” Jeremy asked, his voice surprisingly even.
Alys nodded. “I mean to rid myself of it. Tonight.”
“What?” Jeremy cried, then instantly moderated his voice. “No! No,” he whispered, his gaze sliding toward the bed where Mistress Ashcombe slept on. “Please, don’t.”
Alys looked up at him, confused by his reaction. “And what do ye suggest that I do?” she demanded, angrier than she’d thought she’d be. Surely he’d known this might happen when he lay with her time and time again. Or did he not care? Many a nobleman had a string of bastards. What did they care what became of them and the foolish women who’d allowed themselves to believe they’d be looked after?
“Please, give me a few days,” Jeremy pleaded. “I will see to everything.”
“How? Do ye know what will happen once my condition becomes obvious? Lady Marjorie will dismiss me at best, bring me before the minister and demand I be publicly humiliated and punished at worst. I will be shunned by the very people I grew up with, by my brother and his wife. Our child will not be christened, or buried in consecrated ground if it dies,” Alys sobbed. “Oh, God, why did I give in to my feelings for ye? It’s all my fault for being so witless.”
Jeremy held her away from him, his gaze fierce, his hands on her shoulders. “You have my word as a gentleman that I will not allow you or our child to suffer or be humiliated. I will see to everything,” Jeremy reiterated.
Alys nodded, her anger having sputtered out as quickly as it had flared.
“Give me the potion you were going to take,” Jeremy said, his gaze never leaving her face.
“No. I paid dearly for it and don’t have enough money left over to buy more.”
“I will not destroy it, only hold on to it,” Jeremy promised.
Alys shook her head stubbornly. The pennyroyal was her only option if Jeremy failed to keep his promise.
“All right. Why don’t you go lie down in your room, and I’ll have Mistress Helmsley tell Marjorie you’re unwell.”
“She won’t like that.”
“I really don’t care,” Jeremy snapped.
Alys nodded again, her head bobbing like a chrysanthemum in the wind. Jeremy took out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes, looking down at her until she gave him a watery smile.
He kissed her tenderly and turned her toward the door. “Go.”
Chapter 53
Jeremy
Having seen Alys off and instructed Mistress Helmsley to send Millie up in her place, Jeremy retrieved his hat and cloak and went back out. He’d seen Hal at the mill about half an hour since and hoped he might still be there. He was, his voice clearly audible as he conversed with the miller about prices of grain.
“A word, Master Robson,” Jeremy called out when Hal spotted him through the open door.
Leaving his horse to graze on the sparse December grass, Jeremy walked away from the mill, his gait jerky, his hands balled into fists. Hal followed at a trot, his hair whipping in the wind, his hat in his hands.
“Are you all right?” Hal asked, his brows knitting with concern once he finally caught up to Jeremy. He jammed his hat on his head, but his gaze never left Jeremy’s face.
“No.”
“What is it, Jem?”
“Alys is with child,” Jeremy said.
“I see.”
Jeremy had never expressly confided in Hal about his feelings for Alys, but Hal knew. There were no secrets between them, hadn’t been since they were children, and Jeremy trusted Hal implicitly.
Hal studied Jeremy’s expression. “What would you have me do?” he finally asked, clearly unable to gauge Jeremy’s mood.
“Help me.”
“How?”
“I love her, Hal, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. I can’t bear to see her so upset, so frightened. I need to find a way to protect both Alys and our child. The thought of losing either of them…” Jeremy’s voice trailed away, his eyes filling with tears. “What do I do, Hal?” he rasped. “How do I hold on to those I love in the face of this farce of a life I’ve created for myself?”
Hal considered the question. “You can annul your marriage to Marjorie. All you have to do is find a sympathetic bishop who’ll support your case. A large donation to their purse might speed things along.”
“On what grounds can I annul the marriage?” Jeremy asked, turning to face Hal.
“Any grounds you like. Nonconsummation, for one,” Hal offered.
“Are you mad? She’s carrying my child.”
“She’s carrying a child,” Hal replied. “There’s no proof it’s yours.”
Jeremy shook his head. “I should never have married Marjorie,
