DisobediencebyDesign (20 page)

And when Dr. Waddington decided he had made a thorough
examination he had a private talk with Arthur. Soon after, he left.

Joseph stayed away during the doctor’s visit and didn’t
return for a few hours. Sophia waited with Arthur in the library, wanting to be
there when he got back.

“So?” Joseph asked, practically bursting through the library
door.

“It’s official. I am with child, Mr. Phillips.”

He pulled her up and out of her chair and swung her about
amidst her giggles and Arthur’s protests.

“And we want her to stay with child, my good man. Put her
down.”

Joseph nuzzled her neck, humming his happiness.

“When do we tell Mama and Papa?” she asked over Joseph’s
distractions.

Arthur paced before the hearth. “When the time is right.”

“Well, dear brother, it better be soon. I won’t be able to
hide my condition very much longer.”

“Sophie, the last ball of the Season is tomorrow night.
Countess Authorpe’s. Can you get through that?” Arthur’s brow furrowed.

“Yes. I do expect both of you to be there to support me.”

“Of course.” He grinned and came to her, extricating her
from Joseph’s arms to embrace her. “Oh Sophie! I’m going to be an uncle.”

Sophia pulled back to wipe the tear that trailed down
Arthur’s cheek. “You’ll be the
best
uncle.”

“I’ll tell Mother and Father next week.” He sniffled. “Let’s
get through Saturday night as if nothing has changed first.”

Sophia hugged him with a melancholy sigh. Everything had
changed.

Arthur waited until Tuesday, or rather his parents invited
him to luncheon on Tuesday, and he decided that would be the best time as any
to deliver the news.

“Arthur.” Mother greeted him in the foyer. “So glad you
could join us. We have an exciting announcement!”

Arthur pecked her cheeks. “An announcement, Mother?” Surely
not as exciting as his.

She wrapped her arm around his. “Come into the morning room,
dear.”

As they entered Father remained standing at the window,
staring out, his countenance slack.

“Harold.”

He turned to greet them. “Arthur, son, good to see you.”

“Likewise, Father.” Arthur sat on one end of the couch
opposite Mother.

Father paced before the fireplace. “Son, how has Sophia been
handling your affairs this Season, hmm? She’s been a good hostess, no?”

“Absolutely. The very best.”

“Good good. Parliament has been dragging on a bit late this
year, otherwise we’d be home. We intend to leave as soon as it closes. Do you
think you’ll be needing Sophia much after August?”

“If you mean you wish her to return home to Lincolnshire,
Father, by all means. I can handle my affairs here in London myself.”

Father cleared his throat. “Yes, we will want her to return
to Harwell Hall—”

Mother let out a clipped squeal then promptly covered her
mouth with her hands.

“We’ll be holding a ball in her honor in September.”

Arthur did not like where this was going. “Oh?”

“Just tell him, Harold.” Mother was far too excited.

“Yes, Matilda. Arthur, we will be announcing your sister’s
engagement at our annual hunting ball.”

A chill ripped through him. “Engagement? To whom?”

“The Duke of Royston, my dear,” Mother answered cheerfully. “Who
else?”

Shit
. Now appeared to be the right time for his
announcement. “No. Sophia cannot marry the duke.”

“Why ever not, dear?” Mother queried.

“Son, I know you’ve had some personal antagonism with
Royston in the past but you must put that behind you. He is to be your
brother-in-law.”

“No, Father, it is not my antagonism that leads me to object.”
It most certainly was… “But rather some news I’ve just learned.”

Mother paled. “News? What news?”

He better just come out with it. “Sophia is with child.”

Mother yelped.

“
What did you just say
?”

“Sophia is with child, Father.”

“Good Christ above!” he bellowed, throwing his hands in the
air. “This,” he said, stabbing a finger in Arthur’s direction, “this is what
happens when I let an innocent girl be watched by her licentious brother. You
could barely keep your hands off Henrietta.”

“Harold—”

Father stretched out a silencing hand in Mother’s direction.
“And who, pray tell, is the rogue who got Sophia this way? Don’t tell me it’s
that Peel fellow.”

Arthur drew in a fortifying breath. His parents would prefer
it to be Geoffrey once they heard the truth. “Joseph Phillips.”

Mother gasped.

“The
American
?”

“Yes, the American. My business partner. They are very much
in love and wish to be married.”

“I cannot allow that, Arthur.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Father called out, not taking his eyes off Arthur.

“My lord, His Grace is here for luncheon.”

“Send him in.”

Arthur felt the blood drain from his face.

Royston looked chipper but scowled when he saw the dour
expressions. “I fear I have just interrupted a family discussion.”

“Oh but Your Grace,” said Mother, getting up to greet him, “you
are to be part of our family.”

“Yes, Your Grace, you will be welcomed into this family,”
affirmed Father.

“Thank you.” Royston bowed then caught Arthur’s eye at a
most inopportune time. “Ah, I see not all members of the family are as
welcoming as you.”

“Your Grace,” began Father, “Arthur has just delivered the
most shocking news. Sophia is
enceinte
, done in by the American chap.”

Royston’s eyes narrowed accusingly at Arthur. “She’s been
spending quite a bit of time at your house, has she not? Did you not see fit to
safeguard her from such abuse?”

Arthur controlled his rage. “Joseph Phillips is not the man
from whom she needs safeguarding. In fact it was he who saved her from your
continued cruelty.” Arthur turned to Mother. “You will recall, Mother, how
Sophia was covered in bruises after spending time with the duke?”

She swallowed a sob.

“Arthur, it was all a misunderstanding,” said Father. “His
Grace has assured us he had not meant to harm her.” He turned to the duke. “Given
the circumstances, how do you wish to proceed? We can hasten the marriage so
she will not show as much during the ceremony. Or we can delay the event until
next spring.”

Royston sat next to Mother, who cried silently.

“There are ways of getting rid of the child,” he said casually
as he fished through his pockets for his handkerchief.

“Such as pushing a woman down the stairs?” Arthur said
through his teeth.

“Arthur!” Mother scolded. She took the handkerchief from
Royston with a brief smile.

His parents had no idea who the villain was in Henny’s
death. There was no use in telling them. Royston would simply deny that as
well.

Royston made no overt reaction. “That is a method, yes. A
little barbaric. I want Sophia to survive the ordeal. I was thinking about a
surgical procedure.”

“I don’t follow, Your Grace,” said Father stupidly.

“The child can be removed from her body via an abortion.”

“Why, that’s murder!” yelped Mother.

“It’s not murder when the child is redundant.”

“What?” cried Arthur. “Need I remind you, Your Grace, you are
talking to my mother about her grandchild!”

“I will not raise the bastard child of a colonial miscreant
as my heir. The child needs to be eliminated.”

“Gentlemen, let’s discuss this civilly,” Father said feebly.

“I cannot discuss the murder of my sister’s child civilly,
Father. It is too upsetting. I give my regrets to your staff for luncheon. I
simply cannot stay and talk to a man who takes the life of a child so
cavalierly.”

Royston cleared his throat. “Where is Lady Sophia anyway? I
wish to give my fiancée a congratulatory kiss.”

Arthur cringed inside. “She’s with my cook discussing a
dinner I’m having tomorrow night.” She really wasn’t. She was with Anna at the
seamstress’ getting some dresses altered but he was not going to tell anyone
that. He knew where the seamstress’ was—his mother most likely did as well. He
was not going to have Royston send a man around to fetch her and do God knows
what with her.

“Ah well, when you see her give her my deepest regards.”
What would have been simply sweet coming from any other man sounded filthy and
lewd from Royston’s mouth.

Arthur left, a prayer of thanks running through his head
that he chose to travel to his parents’ by coach and not brougham—the latter
would have been far too small for three…four really with Sophia’s condition. He
snorted, astounded.
Redundant
. Royston had actually used the word “redundant”.
He sickened at the thought.

He made sure his carriage went in the expected direction of
his house, only turning for the seamstress’ after ensuring he was completely
out of sight. As he pulled up to the shop one word echoed in his head.

Lamberton
.

* * * * *

Sophia loved how the seamstress Mrs. Haigh thought to simply
add a frill or two to her dresses as she let them out. No use in having a whole
new wardrobe. Joseph would praise her for economizing.

“And I think the green velvet would look lovely with the
plaid for autumn,” Sophia said cheerfully.

“And send the bill to me.”

She turned at the sound of her brother’s voice, her face
stretching into a big smile at the sight of him. “Arthur! What a lovely
surprise.”

He kissed her cheek. “I need you to come home with me at
once,” he whispered in her ear.

She tried not to look worried. “Is the order complete, Mrs.
Haigh?”

“Yes, my lady,” the seamstress replied.

“And please do charge it to my brother.” Sophia wrote
quickly on a scrap of paper. “Here is the address. Anna,” she called out to her
maid, “we must leave.”

Arthur took her arm as they exited. “How did you get here?”

“We took a cab.”

“Good. We’ll take my coach.”

He was sullen on the drive to his house, barely saying a
word. “Not until we are home and Joseph is present. If he’s at my club, I’ll
send a note to have him join us.”

But Joseph hadn’t left for the club.

Arthur shuffled them all into the library, even Anna,
requesting everyone take a seat.

He sat then stood then sat again, his elbows on his knees.
He drew in a long breath. “Sophie, you are to be engaged to the Duke of
Royston. The announcement will be made at the annual Richmond hunting ball. I
tried to stop them but all I managed to do was let them know of your condition.
Mother and Father and Royston all know you are pregnant with Joseph’s child.”
He looked her in the eye. “Royston wants you to have an abortion.”

Sophia wavered, suddenly lightheaded. Joseph held her steady
with an arm around her shoulder.

“No,” she managed.

“This is outrageous,” said Joseph.

“It is indeed.” Arthur stood and paced before the hearth. “The
two of you must get married as soon as possible.” He stopped, his hands on his head,
and stared at each one of them, his gaze landing on Anna. “That’s it!” He
pointed to the startled maid. “Anna, have Wittering send a note to Geoffrey
Peel to pack a bag for a short trip and get here as fast as he can in his
brougham. No questions asked. And then come back here. I’ll need you.”

“Yes, my lord.” Anna curtsied and left.

Joseph watched Arthur intently as he paced determinedly
before them. “What do you have in mind?”

“Lamberton. The two of you are going to Lamberton.”

“Oh,” Sophia gasped. The room started spinning. Everything
was happening so quickly.

Arthur turned to Joseph. “You’ve spent at least twenty-one
days there, haven’t you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“But enough time for people to know who you are? Briggs and
Mrs. Reed could attest to your presence.”

“Okay, I see where you’re going with this.” Joseph patted
her shoulder. “Sweetheart, it will be a long journey. Can you manage?”

Sophia placed her hand on her belly and stared blankly at
the carpet. “Yes.”

Arthur’s pacing turned into wandering. “I doubt Royston will
put forth any legal argument,” he muttered.

“Is the plan for Geoffrey to join us?” Joseph asked.

Arthur stopped at the window. “Yes. He’s the subterfuge. I’m
fairly certain Royston has a man watching my house. You’re leaving for Scotland
as soon as possible. But not in my carriage.”

“In Peel’s,” said Joseph.

“Yes.”

Anna entered after a gentle warning knock. “Mr. Peel has
been notified, my lord.”

“Ah, Anna. Have a seat.” Arthur indicated a comfortable
chair the maid would never have sat in for all her days.

She sat and looked up at him with soulful eyes.

“Anna, I need you to pack two bags. One for your lady and
one for yourself. Pack for a trip for a few days.”

“My lord? Where are we to go?”

“You will be accompanying Lady Sophia to Scotland to get
married.”

Anna turned a bright smile to her. “Oh my lady!”

“But you,” Arthur continued, “are going to ride to the
railway station with Geoffrey Peel in my coach, which carries the Harwell
crest. You need to be on your guard. You will be dressed as Lady Sophia,
masquerading as her.”

“Their journey should be slightly altered,” Joseph offered.

“Yes,” agreed Arthur. “You two will leave first in Geoff’s
brougham. Geoff and Anna will leave in mine perhaps a quarter of an hour later.”
Arthur studied the two women pensively. “You’ll have to switch gowns.”

“We don’t know when or where Royston will strike,” Joseph
said.

“No but most likely in London. You should depart from
different stations.” Arthur went to his map cabinet and pulled out a handful of
Bradshaw’s
, passing one of the timetables to Joseph. “Thanks to the
chaos that is the British railway system we should be able to find two distinct
routes.”

Joseph leafed through the pages, turned the book sideways, tucked
in a finger to hold his place then thumbed back to the beginning. “Geoffrey and
Anna should take the more obvious route.” He checked a few pages. “The Great
Northern from Kings Cross to…” More pages. “York.”

“Yes I see,” said Arthur, flipping through his own schedule.
“Then transfer to the North Eastern all the way to Berwick.” He looked at Anna.
“You can hire a coach at Berwick. Lamberton’s not far from there.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Joseph’s face crinkled as he muttered over his
Bradshaw’s
.
“Now our journey will be a bit more indirect. We’ll pick up the London &
North Western at Euston Square.”

“The North Eastern controls the northern lines.”

“Yeah,” he said not looking up. “So we’ll go through
Birmingham and Crewe up to Leeds then catch the North Eastern there, following
the same route as Geoffrey and Anna.” He flashed a hopeful smile at Sophia. “I
think this might work.” He turned to Anna. “You two will probably arrive at
Lamberton before us. Arthur can send a message to Briggs to expect you.”

Arthur grinned. “Helps to know the railways when planning an
escape, doesn’t it?”

Sophia stared at the floor. Anything, she’d do anything to
save her child.

* * * * *

Geoffrey could not believe his luck. He and Anna alone in a
coach? Then together on a first-class railway carriage? To Scotland of all
places. Perhaps they could take a day to wander and get lost, deliciously lost,
only each other and a stocked picnic basket. Or perhaps a fishing pole. He
would impress her with his ability to fend and care for her in the countryside—