Page 49 of My Dark Duke

“Whendo you expect you will need them?”

It was impossible to mistake the urgency in Polly’s voice. Lillian blinked, as she tried to recall when she had last bled. She had been at Mrs Harrod’s, for trying to find the privacy to wash, had been an ordeal in itself. Which would mean…

“I was expecting them at least a fortnight ago,” Lillian realised. “If not longer.”

She looked to Polly for reassurance, unsure as to what it all meant. Polly returned her gaze, with kind eyes and a soft smile.

“I expected as much,” she whispered. “Not only did you not ask for napkins, but in a month, your dresses have become strained around the bodice. You’re with child, my dear; we’ll have to wait a bit longer to be certain, but all the signs are there.”

With child?

For a moment, Lillian felt as though she might faint. Luckily, Polly was beside her in an instant, supporting her weight as she walked her to the chair.

“Easy now,” Polly whispered, as she wrapped another towel around Lillian’s shoulders. “It will be all right.”

“How?” Lillian whispered, as she struggled for breath. “Thorncastle does not wish for children, not with me - or anyone.”

To her surprise, Polly gave a snort of laughter. “He wasn’t trying very hard to remain childless, if that is the case.”

Lillian blinked, for Polly’s words were true. Even last night, he had been almost casual about having not withdrawn. It was probably easier for a man to dismiss such things, when it was not he who would bear the brunt of his mistakes.

“What shall I do?” Lillian whispered, as the blood began to return to her head.

“Wait a while longer, until you are certain,” Polly said, swiftly and firmly. “Then inform His Grace. He will care for you and the babe; come what may, you will both be provided for financially.”

Come what may…

Lillian moaned a little, as she wondered what that might mean. Would Thorncastle be horrified to learn she was carrying his child? Would he banish her to some house in the country, never to be heard from again, apart from the requisite annuity?

It was not fair, she decided, suddenly incensed. It was he who had declared the risk of pregnancy was negligible when one was a virgin. She had not known; it was he who’d possessed the knowledge on preventing pregnancy, yet had failed to put it into practice. If he blamed her in any way, then he truly was the devil he was rumoured to be.

“There, there,” Polly consoled, as she rubbed her back. “It will all be alright, but what won’t be alright is your hair, if we let it dry like that. Come, I will brush it out and then we can get you dressed.”

Polly’s approach was the right one, for the instant she began to move, Lillian felt much better. Once her hair was brushed and dressed, and she was clothed in a walking gown, she felt almost back to herself again.

It wouldn’t do good to worry too much, when the matter was not even confirmed.

“A walk?” Polly suggested, as she finished buttoning Lillian’s gown. “The fresh air will blow the cobwebs off you and make you feel revived.”

Lillian nodded, tempted for the first time to leave the house. The idea of spending the rest of the day in a state of waiting, watching the clock until Thorncastle arrived, was unbearable. Even worse, she could not imagine spending a whole evening with him, attempting to pretend that everything was as usual.

“I’ll fetch your cape,” Polly said, breathing a sigh of relief. “It’s high-time you explored London a little; it’s not good for a soul to spend all day cooped up.”

“Perhaps we’ll visit Green Park, Polly?” Lillian called, suggesting the quietest of London’s parks. Its wide open fields were almost pastoral, which rendered it dull in the eyes of the ton.

“I’d accompany you all the way to Greenwich, if that’s what you wished,” Polly answered, her eyes dancing. “Though, I do hope you won’t suggest it. Let me call Michael to prepare the gig and we’ll be away as soon as it’s ready.”

Lillian smiled in thanks; it would be good to taste freedom once more.

The Green Park was located away from the hustle and bustle of town, close to the Queen’s residence in Buckingham House. To Polly, who was a true Londoner, it was almost rural. To Lillian, it was a slice of heaven.

“There’s no statues or fountains,” Polly grumbled, as they paced the sedate, oak-lined paths. “There’s not even any flowers.”

“Rumor has it King Charles picked flowers for his mistress here, two hundred odd years ago,” Lillian explained, sharing a tale her mother had once told her. “When Queen Catherine discovered what he was up to, she ordered all the flowers be pulled from their beds, never to be replaced.”

“Good for her,” Polly answered, her distaste for the park mollified by the tale. Polly’s declaration that she would follow Lillian anywhere had been near rescinded when Michael had warned them that highwaymen had once lurked the paths. He had offered to accompany them on their jaunt, but Polly had refused, sensing Lillian’s need for female companionship.

They had walked a half hour and were now midway along the The Broad Walk. The path was cast in darkness thanks to the canopy of branches above their heads, and Lillian realised Polly was becoming nervous.

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