Lady in Rags

Chapter Thirty Eight: Not by Love

"We must take you home sooner, rather than later, Love," Mrs Roper said gently.

Sprawled over the bed, staring at the wall, Verity said nothing. It was now April, and she knew all too well that she should be returning home and preparing for her confinement. She knew the innkeeper did not like her staying there, for a woman so obviously pregnant might run her into all sorts of difficulty, such as the mess of childbirth. She knew that Lord Albroke did not like her staying there, though he had not sent any word of it. That was something she simply knew.

Yet she could not bring herself to leave. Though she had sworn she would have nothing to do with the Armigers, and had kept that promise, she could not bring herself to remove herself from the village where her husband lay dying. She had some mad notion that he must either die and release her from her vigil, or get better and rescue her. She knew in her heart that the second would not come true, and hoped that the first would not.

If she left, and something went wrong, she might not arrive back in time, or be able to travel so far. No. She could not. She had to stay until certainty came.

Mrs Roper had given up persuading Verity. She was at the window, looking out. "It's a nice day, though, perhaps we should- What is he doing here?"

"Who?" For a moment, Verity's heart lifted, and then constricted in fear. She scrambled up from the bed and peered out the window.

Richard Armiger, cane in hand, was crossing the street towards the inn.

"Something has happened." Her heart was racing. "He is coming for us. Where is my shawl? I am not dressed."

There was a hustle to wrap the shawl around Verity's shoulders and force her feet into slippers before the knock came at the door. The inn servant spoke softly through it,

"Mrs Baker, a gentleman has called upon you."

"Please."

The door opened, and the servant came through and presented the card to Verity. She barely pretended to glance at it.

"I shall see him."

A moment later, Richard was shown in and before he had the chance to speak or even nod in greeting, Verity demanded,

"Is - Is he dead?"

"No. No, he's not." Richard glanced at the open door, and then at Mrs Roper. "I think we should all go somewhere else. We must talk and this is not the place. I have a carriage downstairs. Come with me."

"Where?" asked Mrs Roper. "Where are you taking her?"

"Nowhere, unless she wills, except for a ride. And you may come – should come, I think."

Verity took in the fretful line between Richard's eyebrows, and the tensing of his mouth. His eyes, when they rested on hers, seemed to be seeing instead something far in the distance.

"Can it not be hinted at here?" she asked. "You have had me rushing off on blind faith before – can you have faith in me, and tell me why, this time?"

For a moment, Richard's eyes did focus on her. He shook his head. "I don't know how to explain this. It's awful – it's a farce." He glanced out into the hallway, and then uneasily at the bed in the corner. He came closer to her, and said softly, near her ear, "Neil has developed a conviction. He remembers only that you were his lover, and pregnant with his child. I don't dare tell him any more than that. He is very fragile. He has the conviction that he must marry you before he dies."