Page 81 of Tempting the Scarred Duke

Violet slowly stood to her feet and walked around Penelope as she placed down the chamber pot, apparently done for the moment with her sickness.

“What am I going to do, Violet?” Penelope broke the silence in the room.

They looked at one another in the vanity mirror. Penelope sat down on the stool and Violet stood behind her, with her hands gently resting on her sister’s shoulders.

“What will happen to me?” Penelope whispered.

“Have no fear.” Violet forced a smile into her cheeks. “I promised I would think of something, did I not?”

“Are you able to think of miracles?” Penelope asked with a laugh, though there was no real humor in it.

“Perhaps I am,” Violet said with false pride, then laughed at herself. “Trust me, Pen, that is all I ask, all is not lost yet. Have we not hidden your secret well so far?”

“By the grace of God, luck, and our maid.” Penelope gestured to the door, beyond which in another part of the house, Mary was now helping to care for Louise. Violet nodded, knowing how fortunate they were to have Mary’s help. She had hidden Penelope’s sheets on more than one occasion and washed them herself, to stop anyone from discovering that Penelope no longer bled.

“Well, in these situations, most women marry,” Violet uttered the words she had been afraid of saying.

“Marry? Me!?” Penelope spluttered. She stood to her feet and turned to face Violet. “I cannot marry.”

“All I am saying is that it would be a way to hide the pregnancy.”

“Yes, so it would. Yet I cannot marry. Not now. After I was so fooled by one man, I thought he genuinely…” She broke off, as tears appeared in her eyes.

“I know, I know,” Violet cooed softly and stepped forward, taking her sister in her arms and embracing her tightly. “I know what he made you think. We were all mistaken about him. We all thought he cared for you.”

Deep down, Violet seethed with anger, though she hid it for her sister’s sake. Sir Babington had a lot to answer for. He persuaded Penelope to believe she was in love, and that he loved her too, all so he could have one night with her, then he left, without another word.

He has done this to her.

“The mere thought of marrying frightens me, Violet, I cannot do it,” Penelope said miserably as she stepped back again, her eyes red with the effort of trying to quell those tears. “I cannot stand up in a church and vow to love another man forever. How could I?” She laid her hands on her stomach.

There was no swell there yet, but there was a child growing inside her. The thought of what that child was going to be born into made Violet’s heart thud harder and that anger swell again.

For Penelope, and for that child… I must do something!

Penelope lifted a hand to her lips. Clearly, in danger of being sick, Violet reached for the chamber pot, the copper cold to the touch, and thrust it into her sister’s hands. Penelope took hold of it and bent forward, but nothing came.

“Oh, Pen, perhaps you shouldn’t come to the ball.”

“I must! Or our aunt will know something is amiss, will she not? I have already missed three events these last two weeks.”

“I know, I know.” Violet sighed and turned away, her mind thinking quickly.

Penelope is right. She cannot miss any more events.

Yet it was only a matter of time before Penelope’s pregnancy started to show. At first, they could play it off as weight gain, but no one would be fooled for very long.

Think of something, you fool! Have you not promised to protect Penelope from all evils of this world? I failed to protect her from Sir Babington. I will not fail again!

“I’ll need a new gown, Violet.” Penelope’s words made Violet look up to see her sister had at last been sick, but some of it had caught on the gown.

“Oh, sister, do not worry. I’ll call for Mary and she’ll help us to get you changed speedily. Here, sit down, rest.” Violet took her sister’s arms and steered her to the nearest chair. “I’ll be back in two minutes.” She bent down and kissed her sister’s forehead before she parted. She heard Penelope whimper at that touch, as if she wanted Violet there longer, before she left.

Closing the door softly behind her, Violet wandered into the corridor, wringing her hands together. It was an old nervous action of hers, clenching and releasing her hands, rather like a cat with long claws.

She was on her way to Louise’s room to ask for Mary’s assistance when she caught sight of another chamber door that was open. It was to her aunt’s chamber, beyond which her aunt was striding back and forth, ready for the ball.

“Oh, oh, listen to this, Mavis,” she cried to the lady’s maid that hurried on behind her.

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