Meant to Bea

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Slowly, Bianca forced her trembling body to settle on the bed once more, the sheets falling from her grip. Her lungs were constricted, making it almost impossible to breathe, and there was a sharp pain splitting through her skull, but she ignored them —both her need to breathe and the pain that threatened to drag her into darkness— and instead focused her gaze on the closed door behind Lady Beatrice.

In only a few minutes, Race would walk in through those doors, and Lady Beatrice would tell him what she assumed was the truth; his wife was caught in bed with a man. Bianca wasn't sure she had the strength to dispute Lady Beatrice's words, but she knew she would try. Perhaps Race would believe her? Surely he knew her well enough to know she would never choose to disgrace him like that. Surely, he knew she loved him too much to hurt him.

And if not? A part of her knew Race would most likely doubt her words. His insecurities about his birth and their forced marriage, would make him believe she truly did what she was accused of. But if he sat to think about it, then there was a chance he would believe her. There was a chance that given the time to heal, and for his anger to subside, he would believe her innocence —something she didn't think she would ever need to prove. For some reason best known to Lord Wilson, he was determined to shame her, even at the cost of his own reputation. Bianca could not understand, and given the state of her mind and the pain in her head, she didn't believe herself capable of understanding it right now.

The seconds went by slowly, each person maintaining their positions —Lady Beatrice by the door, Lord Wilson by the window, and Bianca on the bed— in silence.

Stretching her legs before her, Bianca struggled to breathe as the sound of approaching footsteps sounded from the halls.

Her face paling, she turned her attention to Lady Beatrice in a failed attempt to plead for mercy, but Lady Beatrice was already turning around, and the door was already swinging open to reveal Lord Camden.

A small frown creased the Marquess' face, his brow lifting slightly as his eyes momentarily rested on Lady Beatrice. “Darling, I was in the middle of a very important round of cards.”

It was clear from the teasing tone of his voice, that he failed to notice the presence of the other two people in the room.

“This is important.” Lady Beatrice stepped to the side, Camden's head turning briefly to Bianca —who instinctively reached for the sheets once more— before turning sharply to Lord Wilson. His frown deepened, and Bianca immediately felt light headed. “What in the devil is going on here?”

A soft sob escaped Bianca's lips in that second, and scrambling to her feet, she trudged forward until she was standing before the Marquess.

She clasped her hands before her. “It isn't what it lo—”

“This gentleman was caught alone with Mrs. Belington.” Lady Beatrice interjected. Bianca pulled her eyelids shut, her heart beat slowing down as she considered the great scandal that would follow the news. Not only would Race be shamed for being a bastard, he would be mocked for marrying a harlot. The whole town would laugh at her! Rumors of how she connived her way into Race's bed would spread, and the legitimacy of their child —if they stayed married long enough to have one— would always be questioned.

“What?!” Camden said.

“He was caught trying to force himself on her,”

A loud gasp escaped Bianca's lips, her eyelids snapping open.

“What?!” Lord Wilson yelled from his position by the window.

Turning briefly to glance at him, Bianca turned wide eyed to Lady Beatrice who was nodding to the questioning look in her husband's eyes.