Passion and Propriety (Hearts of Honour Book 1) (44 page)

“These things have to run their course,” Grace said, delivering another bottle of tonic. “Hannah was weakened by the fall, but she’s strong and should be up again before too long.”

To everyone’s
relief—William’s irascibility affecting the entire household—Hannah was finally able to leave her sick bed for good a month after the accident. Her father and sisters had come to stay while the vicarage was undergoing its more urgently needed repairs, and Hannah was glad to greet them dressed and looking like her old self for a change.

It was past time she attended to her duties. With winter close at hand, she was concerned for the more vulnerable members of their community, with much to do organising blankets, clothing, and food hampers for those in need. To her great annoyance, barely a week after recovering from her cold, she came down with a stomach ailment.

“I warned you to be careful, Hannah,” William scolded, her illness seemingly related to visiting some of their poorer tenants. “I know you don’t like to give offence, but you must learn to say no if you’re offered a meal that appears doubtful. You’re too important to risk.”

“Everyone’s important, William,” she said, wearily echoing the sentiment her parents had taught her from an early age.

“Not like you are . . . not to me.” The depth of his concern for her safety made it easier to forgive his overbearing tone.

“Don’t fret. I’m not
terribly
ill,” she said, although she had reason to question her assertion when she was forced to make a dash for the commode several times during the night.

“I don’t want you seeing me like this,” she whimpered when William sat beside her, holding her hair out of the way as she huddled with her head over the bowl.

“In sickness and health, remember?” After wiping her face with a damp cloth, he assisted her back to bed.

Moaning, Hannah curled on her side and surrendered to a bout of self-pity. She’d only just begun to feel like her old self—
finally
able to be intimate with her husband after declaring their love for one another—and now this?

“It will pass,” William said, trying to soothe her, but he was wrong. Every time she thought she was recovered—for a few hours or even a day—the nausea and vomiting returned. The illness struck at all hours of the day and night until she was thoroughly worn down.

“Sweetheart, this has been going on for too long. Are you
sure y
our courses aren’t overdue?” William asked in a gentle voice after a particularly distressing episode. “I know you’d never try to hide something that important from me, but with everything that’s happened, you might have lost track of things. I know I have.”

Hannah huffed. When they were first married, William had been under the misconception women’s bodies operated like clockwork to a twenty-eight-day cycle. Hannah’s did not, and she’d explained that to him when he’d panicked the first time her courses were late. Sometimes they came monthly, sometimes they did not. While the last few occurrences had been quite random and much lighter than usual—mere spotting, for which she’d been grateful considering how dreadful she already felt—her courses had arrived twice since the night in the carriage.

“I’ve told you, William. It’s not that.” She sighed. “Sometimes these illnesses linger. I’m sure I’ll be better soon.”

“Of course you will.” He pulled her close, and she nestled against him, feeling protected but also a little sad. If she
had
been with child, she’d have borne her suffering without complaint.

“I want you to rest more,” William said. “The minute you feel the slightest bit better, you throw yourself into your work, caring for others.”

Hannah shrugged but didn’t deny his words.

“I don’t think you’ve given yourself the time your body needs to recover”—he stroked her hair back from her face—“from the fall, the chest cold, and now this stomach ailment. You need to let me
take care of you for a while.”

Hannah squirmed at the thought, as it went against the grain to sit back while others did the work. She couldn’t ever recall spending the better part of a month in bed. Then again, she’d never had a chest cold as bad as the one from which she’d only just recovered. As for the nausea . . . “Very well,” she conceded on a sigh, and William’s frown finally lightened.

Though curbing her activities, Hannah insisted on being involved in family life as much as possible. Each day she dressed, regardless of how she felt, and came down to spend time with her father and sisters when they were available.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me,” William said, leaning over to peck Hannah’s lips one morning before heading for the door. Her husband had decided if her family was going to be staying with them for an extended period of time while the vicarage was renovated—
his
idea, she reminded him whenever he grumbled about the intrusion on their privacy—then they would have to get used to his treating his wife with an uncommon degree of affection. Fortunately, they took no offence.

“Just make sure you don’t overdo it, Hannah. Do you hear me?” He paused in the doorway, one finger raised in emphasis.

“Yes dear.” She rolled her eyes, relieved her sisters at least had the decency to wait until he’d closed the door behind him before they burst out laughing.

“I never expected to see you so thoroughly cowed,” Naomi said, coming to sit on the floor beside Hannah’s couch. “Or so thoroughly loved. I’m very happy for you.”

“I’d be happier if you weren’t ill all the time. It’s dreadfully tiresome.” Rachel plopped down in the chair opposite. Hannah wasn’t certain whom her sister was feeling sorry for, but her following words clarified. “Mr Potts is convinced we’ll have a white Christmas. Making snow angels won’t be half as much fun if you can’t join us.”

“It’s not as if I’ve got a lot of choice in the matter,” Hannah said, carefully rising to her feet.

“Where are you going?” Naomi demanded. “William said we are to keep an eye on you.”

“I’m going to the necessary. You’re welcome to walk the hall with me if you must.” Hannah attempted to hide her irritation as she appreciated her sister’s concern. To add to her misery, her bladder had decided to act up, necessitating emptying many more times a day and night than was usual.

“We’ll
all
go,” Rachel said, making it sound like an adventure.

Smiling, Hannah glanced back over her shoulder at her youngest sister, alarmed when the room began to spin around her. “Oh dear.” She spread her arms to prevent herself from falling, but it was too late. The rich, patterned carpet swirled before her eyes just before everything went black.

Chapter 35

Faith

“I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord, but Lady Blackthorn has fainted.”

William leaped from behind his desk and ran past the footmen forgetting that, technically, he could no longer run. When his leg inevitably gave way, Loring was there to keep him from falling.

“I need you to ride into the village and find Miss Daniels,” William said as the two men half-hobbled, half-ran down the never-ending hallway. “Bring her kicking and screaming if necessary,” he added when Loring’s expression turned doubtful. “Whatever it takes.”

“Will do,” his estate manager muttered grimly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fetch a doctor? Not Cooper,” he said before William could protest. “Someone reputable from Thornton . . . or I could send to London for a physician.”

“And what? Have them purge her? She’s vomiting half a dozen times a day already. Or bleed her? She’s already weak as a kitten.” He shuddered. “I trust Miss Daniels. If anyone can help, she can.”

“Very well.” Loring nodded, and William waved him on his way after reaching the door to the drawing room where he’d left Hannah resting not ten minutes earlier. Limping heavily, he crossed the room, shooing the crowd of worried servants out of the way.

“What happened?” he demanded, kneeling beside his wife’s prone form.

“She was heading for the door and just crumpled,” Naomi said, her normally imperturbable expression replaced by a worried frown. “I don’t think she hit her head, but she hasn’t roused. Here’s Mrs Laws with some smelling salts.”

“Give them to me,” William said and then waved the bottle beneath Hannah’s nose.

“Hannah? Hannah, sweetheart?” he called, his shoulders sagging in relief when she coughed and pushed his hand away.

“What’s that awful smell?” She rubbed her nose, her eyelids fluttering open.

“Smelling salts,” he said without apology. “You fainted.”

“Fainted?” Hannah’s eyes widened. “Heavens . . . that’s not like me.”

William offered her the glass of water Rachel had at the ready, while Naomi held the ubiquitous bowl her sister required far too often. Hannah sipped cautiously, and all three released a sigh when the beverage did not make a return appearance.

“Help me up?” she asked, scowling at the sight of her audience. “I feel foolish lying down here.”

“Of course.” William attempted to mask his escalating concern, but this had gone on long enough, and he was determined to find answers. Miss Daniels’ skill had been instrumental in saving his life. Surely she would know of some way to treat Hannah.

After ordering the room cleared of everyone but his sisters-in-law, William waited for the young healer’s arrival, sitting on the settee with Hannah’s head pillowed on his lap. She sighed with exasperation when he asked where she’d been heading before her fall, and explained her intention to visit the necessary.

“I’ll have a chamber pot brought here if need be,” he said, and Hannah cringed.

“Oh, what a lot of fuss I’m creating. I can’t believe this stomach upset is lasting so long. It’s such a bother.”

William could think of far stronger words to describe her condition, but none were suitable for polite company.

Miss Daniels arrived a short time later, not quite
spitting fire but clearly annoyed at having her attendance commanded. The looks she and Loring exchanged as they entered the room were far from civil.

“I apologise for the summons,” William said, his tone polite but lacking sincerity considering the degree of his desperation. “Hannah’s been ill for weeks, but insisted she could manage.”

“You should have called me sooner,” Miss Daniels said before ordering everyone to leave the room. William hesitated, and she turned to face him. “You
insisted on having your
henchman
drag me here.” She shot Loring a withering look. “Now let me do my job.”

To William’s disgust, he soon found himself pacing in the hallway with only his estate manager for company, as he’d encouraged the young ladies to wait in a nearby drawing room. Their father had arrived and offered to sit with his anxious daughters as long as he was apprised of events as soon as there was news. After twenty minutes had passed, William concluded it was a good thing Hannah and he weren’t planning to have children, as he seriously doubted he would survive the births.

The irreverent thought sobered him instantly. He’d been operating on the premise that if he protected his wife from childbirth, she would be safe. But Hannah was right—life didn’t come with guarantees.

William rubbed his brow, and Loring gave his shoulder a pat. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

William could barely muster a nod, his attention focused on the most important person in his world . . . and whatever the hell was happening to her on the other side of the doorway.

“You may come in now, my lord,” Miss Daniels said after what seemed an interminable length of time. “
Just
you.” The petite miss who would have made an excellent sergeant-at-arms closed the door firmly in Loring’s face. One glance at his wife informed William she’d been crying. If Hannah had contracted a wasting disease, he had no idea how he’d go on without her. Taking a seat by her side, he gently entwined their fingers.

“Just tell me what’s wrong and how we fix it,” he said to Miss Daniels.

“It’s not a situation that requires fixing so much as
enduring,
I’m afraid,” she replied, her subdued tone offering little comfort. “It appears that despite your best efforts, congratulations are in order.”

William’s frown deepened until her meaning dawned, then his blood ran cold.

Hannah was with child.

“That can’t be. Hannah’s had her courses several times since she’s been ill.” Panicked, he turned to his wife. “You
told
me it wasn’t that.”

“I didn’t know it was possible to have light bleeding during the first few months of confinement.” She spread her hands in apology. “But it’s true, William. We’re going to have a baby.”

There was no way he could mirror her tentative smile, as despair threatened to overwhelm him. Sickness they could have fought against, but not this.

“How? When? We haven’t been intimate in weeks—you’ve been too ill.”

“Your wife is three months’ pregnant,” Miss Daniels said. “She has all the symptoms: tender breasts, urinary frequency, morning sickness—”

“Morning sickness!” William shouted. “Try all bloody day and night sickness!”

“It happens that way sometimes.” The midwife shrugged. “Now we know the cause of her distress, we can help to ease it.”

“Surely there could be
other
causes for her symptoms.” William’s expression turned pleading. “There’s no reason to automatically think the worst.”