For the Love of Lila (27 page)

Once inside, she closed the door and rushed to her luggage. In a small portable writing desk, she kept a calendar on which she marked the days of her monthly cycle.

Fumbling through travel documents, journals and manuscript sheets, she finally found the little book. Fingers icy, she flipped through the pages and found her records for the last month. Comparing the dates, she gaped in disbelief.

She was a full week late.

The calendar slipped from her grasp to the floor. She sank onto the bed and flopped backwards, staring up at the canopy. How stupid she had been! This was the very sort of thing that could ruin Tristan’s reputation.

Her hands began to tremble. She dug her fingers into the bedclothes to stop them. At the first opportunity, she would have to leave London. The instant she got her money, she would have to move far away. To protect him she would need to take a false name until after the babe was born...maybe forever.

Putting her hand up to her forehead, she wondered where on earth she would go. Perhaps she would end up moving to Italy with Felicity, after all. Her cousin was the only acquaintance she had who would be empathetic to her predicament.

Yes, she would have to go to Italy. Thanks to her folly, she would be forced to do exactly what she had declined only a fortnight ago. She would have another mouth besides her own to feed, and much of her writing time would be consumed looking after the child, decreasing her earning power.

Yet, despite of all the horrendous repercussions, she had to admit she felt a spark of preposterous pleasure. When she acknowledged the feeling, the spot warmed and spread through her midsection. Tentatively, she placed her palm over her belly.

Perhaps she was the maddest woman in the kingdom—but if she had to live her life without Tristan, at least she would have his baby to console her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

In the morning, Tristan drove to the bank, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to go inside and inquire. If Lila’s trust was closed and her new account had been set-up, the money would still be there tomorrow. But if he brought her the news this morning and she left his life today, he didn’t think he could bear it. Not yet.

He turned the carriage around and headed toward Hester’s, mad thoughts swarming his mind. Suppose he gave up his dream of entering the House of Commons...surely he could he find another meaningful way to use his knowledge and his skills.

One of the horses neighed, and the negative sound brought him back to his senses. No matter what career he chose, if it became known that he’d taken a well bred woman for a mistress, the notoriety would ruin him. Not to mention that there were other people to consider besides himself; he didn’t even want to imagine how the rest of his family would suffer from his disgrace.

He had no alternative but to break away from Lila. The sooner he did so, the safer it would be for everyone. The vow of separation he had proposed the night before had to be made today.

When he reached South Audley Street, the butler informed him that Poinsett was out but that Hester and Lila were still at the breakfast table. Tristan walked to the dining room and paused at the entrance, admiring Lila’s fine profile. He wondered if this might be his last chance to do so for a long, long time.

She sensed his stare and turned her head to meet his gaze. Her lips tugged a little, but her upturned eyebrows gave her a melancholy look.

“Good morning, ladies.” He stepped into the room, pulling off his gloves.

“Good morning,” Lila murmured.

“You’re early.” Hester smiled at him, but her expression didn’t quite reach her eyes, either. For some reason, furrows rippled her brow. “Have a seat, and I’ll pour you tea while you give us your update.”

He stepped around to the chair across from Lila and looked downward as he drew it out. Sitting, he said, “I’m afraid I’ve no news yet. Maybe later today.”

“I’m sure we’ll hear before long.” Hester handed him a cup and saucer and turned to her houseguest, who was toying with a plateful of omelet. “My dear, you’ve consumed no more than tea this morning. Is your appetite off again?”

“My stomach is perhaps a little nervous.” She glanced up at her hostess but didn’t look Tristan’s way. “I suppose the turmoil over my trust is affecting me.”

He thought their impending separation more likely to be the cause of her distress. Though not typically subject to nerves himself, he too had little care for food today and had lain awake half the night.

Lila looked down at her plate, but suddenly her head shot up again, as if she had recalled something. “How are
you
feeling this morning, Hester?”

“From what I gather, much the same as you.” Frowning, his sister continued to watch her guest, maintaining her scrutiny even after Lila had focused her attention back on her food.

Instead of the benign cheerfulness typically displayed by new acquaintances, a strange tension hung between the two women. Tristan began to wonder if they had quarreled before his arrival, as odd as the idea seemed. What on earth could they have to differ about?

A harrowing thought pierced him, and he nearly spit out a mouthful of tea. What if one of the servants had spotted Lila and him in the teahouse and recounted the tale to Hester? But surely if that were the case, most of his sister’s abhorrence would be directed at him.

He peered at her face and saw that she was still studying Lila. All of her wariness seemed aimed at her houseguest.

As he followed his sister’s gaze, Lila took a small forkful of eggs into her mouth and chewed with an unnatural slowness. She gulped down the bite and immediately looked a bit green.

“Are you sure you’re not ill?” he asked, concerned.

She shook her head, the meaning of the gesture ambiguous. given the phrasing of his question. “‘Tis only nerves, but I’m afraid that I can eat nothing more. I’m sorry. You’ll have to excuse me.”

Abruptly she stood. Dropping her napkin on her plate, she started for the door.

“But, Lila, I need to—” Before he could finish, she’d left the room. He turned to Hester. “I think she really is ill but doesn’t want any fuss made over her.”

His sister dropped her gaze to a solitary piece of toast on her plate. She picked up her knife and dipped it into a pot of jam. “Maybe she’s best left alone, if that is what she wishes.”

“How can you say so, when she’s clearly unwell?” He blinked at her averted face. “What if she should worsen and require help?”

“She’ll know that she can ring for Digby.”

He watched her spread jam over the bread, her focus centered on the task. Something told him she was being less than candid with him, but he was too caught up in his own worries to wonder why. “In any case, she can’t be left to herself for long. I need to talk to her about something.”

“It looks as though you’ll have to wait.”

“I can’t.” Emotions running high, he feared that he was in danger of revealing the extent of his feelings. Noticing that his urgency had drawn a curious stare from his sister, he added, “There’s an important matter she and I need to discuss...about her trust.”

A maid came in and exchanged the teapot on the table for a new one, steam emanating from the spout.

Hester eyed him silently for a moment, then looked to the servant. “Mary, take some of those plain crackers I like up to Miss Covington’s chamber. You won’t be needed here again until after we’ve finished.”

“Yes, milady.” The girl curtsied and scurried away.

His sister turned back to him. “Maybe you can address your important matter with Lila later today. Don’t ask why, but I have a notion that her health may improve by this afternoon. You can stop back here after you’ve seen Mr. Higginbotham again.”

“I suppose.” He looked toward the exit Lila had used, wishing he could follow her.

Hester cleared her throat. “Tristan, while we have a moment in private, I wonder if I might ask you some personal details about my guest.”

He swung back around to face her. “Such as...?

“Well, she seems...troubled. I know she’s had a difficult time, but I’m beginning to wonder exactly
how
difficult.” She looked down at her napkin, pleating the fabric between her fingers. “This is hard for me to phrase delicately. About her uncle—that horrid man, Casper—did he abuse her physically?”

He shook his head, pondering what could have provoked the thought. For an instant he worried that his sister might know something he didn’t, but he dismissed the idea at once. If one word described Lila’s manner toward him, it was
frank
. She wouldn’t have told Hester anything she hadn’t disclosed to him. “No, I’m sure the fellow isn’t quite that unscrupulous. She’s never mentioned his beating her or anyone else in the family.”

Hester swallowed hard and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I was wondering more about his making improper advances toward her.”

He nearly fell off his chair. “What on earth put such an idea into your head?”

“Well...from what I gather, the man is an unprincipled cur, and she is a beautiful young woman, who was living under his roof for years. Don’t you think it possible that he would try to take advantage?”

“Of course not!”

“How do you know?”

He scanned his mind, reviewing Lila’s stories of verbal abuse and fierce objections to her writing. “I’ve heard plenty of tales about Casper’s evil, but in none of them did he ever touch her.”

She twisted her mouth. Quietly, she said, “Then again, if he had, she wouldn’t be likely to tell
you
, would she?”

“Yes, she would.”

“Think on it, Tristan. How would a young woman broach such a subject with a man, albeit a family friend?”

“Lila is a remarkably forthright woman, and I’ve been her confidante for months.” He gave her an unwavering stare. “I assure you that you may rest easy on this point. The abuse she endured, though trying, was all emotional—nothing so sordid as you imagine.”

“You seem so certain.” She watched him now, her gaze sharp and penetrating. “Precisely how close to her are you?”

“Close enough that I’m concerned about her health, and I’m going to her now.” He stood up.

“You can’t.” She leapt to her feet as well, her fine brows crunching together. “Don’t be daft. She’s likely gone to her room. You can hardly attend her there.”

“I need to talk to her privately,” he insisted. He
was
being daft, but momentum had driven him on. In an effort to explain, he added weakly, “about her trust.”

“Tristan, what has come over you? Sit down this instant. Please.”

He knew he had gone too far but had no idea how to retreat. Going to Lila’s room was out of the question, of course. That left either running out of the house like a damned fool or trying to recapture some semblance of sanity.

“Sorry,” he muttered, sinking back into his chair. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. That preposterous talk of yours about Lila’s uncle upset me.”

Her gaze felt heavy on him, and a thick stillness permeated the room. At last, she too again settled into her seat. “If you like, I can send Mary back upstairs to give Lila your message and see if there’s any chance of her rejoining us.”

He nodded, and she rang the bell. They sat silent while they waited for a response. After a long moment, the maid came in and her mistress gave her charge.

Once she had left again, Hester took up her napkin and patted her brow.

“Heavens, Tristan,” she murmured. “If my theory about Casper upset you so much, I don’t dare share the rest of my speculations.”

He looked into his tea. “I’d rather you didn’t, whatever they are. I’m not exactly in a humor to entertain conjecture.”

“No, I can see that you’re not. And I can’t say I’ve much desire to voice what I’m thinking, anyway. I’d best keep mum for now.”

If her reticence was meant to whet his curiosity, the ploy

failed. At the moment he had no wish to be let in on any secrets. The secret that hung over his head already was far too dangerous for his liking.

Her bait refused, they waited in awkward silence to see if Lila or the maid would return.

* * * *

Once Lila had reached her bedroom, she’d somehow managed to stave off her nausea and lie down. After eating several of the crackers Hester had sent up, her stomach settled further. Her biggest worry then was that her hostess might have deduced the truth. She knew that her reaction to Hester’s announcement of pregnancy had been conspicuous, but with so much else to worry about, she tried to reassure herself. Surely Hester wasn’t likely to jump to such a seemingly outrageous conclusion.

When the maid came by with Tristan’s summons, Lila was surprised. She had thought he’d be glad to get rid of her for the morning. Instead, he seemed to think it important that they talked. There could only be one reason: to make the vow to stay apart that he’d mentioned the night before.

“Shall I tell him you’re indisposed, Miss?” the servant asked, watching her with squinting blue eyes.

Lila shook her head but had difficulty speaking. Her hands felt clammy with a mist of perspiration left over from her nausea. As much as she knew she had to make this vow, she didn’t want to do it. Her condition heightened her emotions, and she was afraid if she spent much more time with Tristan, she might give herself away to onlookers...or to him.

“I’ll be down in a moment,” she told the maid.

When the girl had left, she rose gingerly, so as not to disturb her stomach. Gliding across the room, she sat down at a vanity and picked up her hairbrush.

She stared at her face in the mirror, imagining she looked different now that she was with child. She couldn’t say exactly how: Was it in her eyes...or perhaps her complexion? Was the difference that she was brimming with the new life inside her or simply with new fear?

As she dragged the brush through her hair, she dreaded going downstairs. Waiting below was the end of a period in her life that had been nothing short of magic. She longed for a way to change the lonely future she saw ahead of her. How she yearned to spend her life with Tristan! Part of her wanted simply to drop her principles, marry him and raise his family.