Meant to Bea

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Bianca was not pregnant.

It was the singular information she could glean from the physician. He was uncertain what was wrong with her, but he instructed she rested for a few more days. He would check back in a few more days, he assured, patting her hand lightly, before turning to leave the room.

Bianca fell asleep after that, her headache having eased due to laudanum that was put in her tea. She must have slept for hours, she thought, moaning as her eyelids parted to the sun rays beaming into the room.

“Bea.” Something tugged on her hand. She turned to the side to find Race seated on the bed beside her. He was sober now, she thought, as he leaned down to kiss her lips. He was sober, even if his skin still smelled of alcohol.

She smiled, placing both her hands against the sides of his face, until his forehead was resting on hers.

“Forgive me,” He whispered, his arms curling around her body, and pulling her forward into his embrace. He kissed her neck. “There is something you must know.” She felt his body tense, as his arms tightened their hold around her.

She smoothened his hair. “What is it?”

“Your father was in debt when he died. I did nothing but inherit his debts.”

Bianca stiffened, stunned. Race's hold around her weakened, and he pulled away.

“It explains why he had no heir, why I was allowed to inherit everything. But I was fool enough to believe all of this was worth anything, until a few weeks ago. By then, it was too late. I cannot turn away without society thinking I ruined the duke's legacy and squandered his wealth.”

Her lips fell open, her heart beat slowing down. Surely he was jesting! She shook her head, knowing the devastated look in his eyes was no joke.

“Then we shall sell the vessels, the estate...”

He shook his head. “Your father was in business with a few people. Before he died, he owned but a few ships. After he died, ownership reverted to his partners.”

“That is not possible!” She yelled, pain slicing through her skull. She reached up and rubbed her head.

“Bea,” He pulled her back into his embrace. She buried her face in his chest and fought the urge to cry. “There are a few lands, and I could sell them but given the economy, I am in doubt anyone will be willing to buy them right now. Even if they do, it shall barely scrap the top of how much money your father owed.”

“Then we are ruined?” Her fingers curled around his shirt.

His chest rose and fell beneath her head. “I can try to fix it, to pay off a few debts. I can, I just do not know how to navigate through any of this. I do not believe I am of any good when it comes to business.”

“But how, how did he manage to lose everything?”

“I am uncertain.” He kissed her head, and nudged her back until her body was settling on the soft mattress once more. “Rest, love. The physician was unable to diagnose what plagues you, but I cannot risk you worrying over anything.”

Bianca shook her head; she could not rest, not with him taking so much responsibility for something that was not his fault. She reached out and placed her hand on his hand that rested on her stomach. “Will you stay with me?”

He nodded, pushing the covers aside until he was settling beside her. She turned to the side to look at him. “I thought I was pregnant,” She whispered, placing her hand on the side of his weary face.

He took her hand and kissed the tip of her fingers one at a time. “That would have been such good news.”

“Perhaps I am unable to have children? It has been many weeks since the miscarriage.” She realized then how devastated she was by the news of the physician that she was not pregnant. She realized then that she had been hoping she was.

“Oh, but we will have children, Bea,” Race leaned forward and kissed her nose. “A beautiful baby girl, and she shall be as beautiful as her mother.” He whispered softly against her nose.

“Or a boy,” She tipped her head up, and pressed her lips to his warm lips. “Like his father.”

He captured her lips then, gently kissing her, as his hands worked to relieve her of her dress. Bianca snuggled close to him, as he tossed her dress to the side, his hands moving slowly up and down the length of her body.

“Are you alright? I do not wish to hurt you.”

She shook her head, reaching for his shirt. “I'm fine. We will be fine.” She kissed his neck. “We will be just fine.”

*

The first thing Bianca did the next morning, was fire a handful of servants. As many as were deemed a luxury, she let them go —the handmaids that once waited on her and her sister, Carla. Two footmen and the scullery maids. By the time she was done, the house was left with one footman, a groom, butler, cook, and a housekeeper. She then took her expensive jewelries —including the ones belonging to her mother and sister, and gave them up to be sold.

Race protested her actions, but Bianca made it very clear that she did not care to listen to his protests. Most likely unwilling to agitate her due to her frail health, he did not argue further. Carla however, was an entirely different story.

Bianca stood ignoring her, as she dug in her jewelry box for more jewelries to be sold.

“Does it not bother you that your incompetent husband has squandered all of father's wealth in only a few months?!” Carla's all but wept as she stood behind Bianca. “We are a laughing stock! Do you know that the news of out household firing essential servants has reached London?! Who shall marry me now, Bianca?! Could not your husband at least wait until I have secured an appropriate husband, before ruining our father's good name?!”

Bianca heaved, turning around with the pile of jewelry in her hands.

“What are you doing with those?!” Carla gasped. “You do not wish to sell them, do you? Is that what happened to the others?! I could have sworn there were a few missing. Is that what you did, Bianca? You stole from me to help pay your husband's debt?”

“Father's!” Bianca yelled, frustrated. “Father did this! And no doubt, with the help of your mother! She ruined him, and they are making my innocent husband pay. Did you really think it was possible to squander all that father was once worth, in only a matter of months? Even if Race drank and gambled for an entire year, it would have barely put a dent on father's fortune.”

“You would blame our parents for this?” She asked, as Bianca made to leave the room.

She turned back around. “Why else would Father die intestate? Why would he run the risk of a bastard inheriting all he is worth, Carla? Father was no fool, he saw this coming. He made this mess, and he left Race to clean up after him.” She was angry at her father. He knew what he was doing when he allowed her get married to Race, and then died without a will. He knew society would blame Race. He was too much of a coward to declare bankruptcy himself.

Carla opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it once more. Perhaps it became clear to her that Bianca was right? Bianca did not care —she thought, turning around to leave the room— she needed to find more things to sell, to clean up the mess her father had made, before conveniently dying so that someone else would clean it up for him.

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