Suddenly You (20 page)

“Miss Amanda,” Sukey said a long moment later, “Mr. Hartley will arrive soon.”

“When he does, send him away,” Amanda replied numbly. “Tell him…tell him that I am not feeling well today. And then send for a doctor.”

“Yes, Miss Amanda.”

She knew the doctor would only confirm what she suddenly felt quite certain of. The recent changes in her body, and her feminine instincts, pointed to the same conclusion. She was pregnant with Jack Devlin's child…and she could not imagine a worse dilemma.

Unmarried women who found themselves pregnant were often described as being “in a predicament.” The shortcomings of that phrase nearly made Amanda laugh hysterically. Predicament? No, it was a disaster, one that would change her life in every way.

“I'll stay with ye, Miss Amanda,” Sukey murmured. “No matter what.”

Even in the chaos of her thoughts, Amanda was moved by the woman's instant loyalty. Blindly she caught at the maidservant's rough, work-worn hand and clutched it. “Thank you, Sukey,” she said hoarsely. “I don't know what I shall do if…if there is a baby…I would have to go somewhere. Abroad, I suppose. I would have to live away from England for quite a long while.”

“I wearied of England years ago,” Sukey said stoutly. “All this rain an' gray gloom, an' the cold that settles in yer bones…nay, it's not fer a woman of my warm nature. Now, France or Italy…those are the places I allus dreamed of.”

A mirthless laugh stuck in Amanda's throat, and she could only whisper in reply, “We'll see, Sukey. We'll see what is to be done.”

 

Amanda refused to see Charles Hartley, or anyone else, for a week after the doctor verified that she was pregnant. She sent Hartley a note explaining that she was suffering with a touch of
la grippe
, and required several days to rest and recover. He responded with a sympathetic message and a delivery of beautifully arranged hothouse flowers.

There was much to consider, and important decisions to make. Try as she might, Amanda could not blame Jack Devlin for her condition. She was a mature woman who had understood the risks and consequences of an affair. The responsibility rested squarely on her shoulders. Although Sukey had tentatively suggested that Amanda go to Jack with the news, the very idea had made her recoil in horror. Absolutely not! If there was one thing Amanda knew for certain, it was that Jack Devlin did not want to be a father or a husband. She would not burden him with this problem—she was capable of providing for herself and the baby.

There was only one course of action. She would pack up her household and go to France as soon as possible. Perhaps she would invent a fictional husband who had died, leaving her a widow…some kind of ruse that would allow her to take part in local French society. She would still be able to earn a handsome living by publishing from abroad. There was no reason for Jack ever to find out about a child whom he surely did not want and whose existence he would most likely resent. No one would know the truth except her sister Sophia, and, of course, Sukey.

Channeling all her energies into planning and list-making, Amanda made preparations for the drastic upheaval her life would soon undergo. Toward that end, she allowed Charles Hartley to call on her one morning so that she could tell him good-bye.

Charles arrived at her home with a bouquet of flowers. He was dressed in his elegant, solidly traditional brown coat and fawn trousers, with a dark silk cravat tied neatly beneath his beard. Amanda felt a sharp pang of regret that she would never be able to see him after this day. She would miss his kind, open face and the comfortable, uncomplicated companionship he offered. It was a pleasure to be with a man who did not excite her or challenge her, a man who led a life as calm and quiet as Jack Devlin's was fast and turbulent.

“Lovely as ever, though a bit pale,” Charles pronounced, smiling at Amanda as he gave his overcoat and tall hat to Sukey. “I have worried about you, Miss Briars.”

“I am much better now, thank you,” Amanda replied, forcing an answering smile to her lips. She bade Sukey to take the flowers and put them in water, and invited Charles to sit beside her on the settee. For a few minutes they engaged in light conversation, talking about nothing in particular while Amanda's mind busily winnowed out various ways to tell him that she was going to leave England for good. Finally she could think of no delicate way to put it, and she spoke with her natural brisk bluntness. “Charles, I am glad we have this opportunity to talk, as it will be our last. You see, I've recently decided that England is no longer the best place for me to live. I plan to establish a home elsewhere—in France, actually, where I believe the mild climate and the slower pace of life will suit me much better than here. I will miss you dearly, and I do hope we may correspond now and then.”

Charles's face was wiped clean of expression, and he absorbed the news silently. “Why?” he murmured at last, and reached for one of her hands, holding it in both his large ones. “Are you ill, Amanda? Is that why you require a warmer climate? Or are there circumstances of a different nature that compel you to move? I do not wish to pry, but I have a good reason for asking, as I will explain shortly.”

“I am not ill,” Amanda said with a faint smile. “You are very kind, Charles, to show such concern for my welfare—”

“It is not kindness that inspires my questions,” he said quietly. For once, his usually untroubled brow was puckered, and his mouth had tightened until it was nearly concealed in the trim mass of his beard. “I do not wish you to go anywhere, Amanda. There is something I must tell you. I had not wanted to reveal it so soon, but it seems that circumstances are forcing me to be a bit precipitate. Amanda, you must know how I care—”

“Please,” she interrupted, her heart contracting with anxious alarm. She did not want him to make any confessions to her…God forbid that he might say he loved her, when she was pregnant with another man's child! “Charles, you are a dear friend, and I have been fortunate to have known you these past several weeks. But let us leave it at that, please. I am departing for the Continent in a matter of days, and anything you say cannot change that fact.”

“I'm afraid I can't be silent.” He held her hands more tightly, although his voice was still calm and warm. “I will not let you go without telling you how very much I value you. You are very special to me, Amanda. You are one of the finest women I have ever known, and I want—”

“No,” she said, her throat suddenly aching. “I am not a fine woman, or a good one in any regard. I have made terrible mistakes, Charles, ones that I have no wish to explain to you. Please, let us say no more, and part as friends.”

He considered her for a long time. “You are in some kind of trouble,” he said quietly. “Let me help you. Is it financial? Legal?”

“It is a kind of trouble that no one can solve.” She could not look at him. “Please go,” she said, rising from her chair. “Good-bye, Charles.”

He tugged her back to the settee. “Amanda,” he murmured, “in light of my feelings for you, I believe you owe me something…the chance to be of service to someone I care for deeply. Tell me what is the matter.”

Half touched and half annoyed by his persistence, Amanda forced herself to look directly into his gentle brown eyes. “I am pregnant,” she blurted out. “You see? There is nothing that you or anyone can do. Now please leave, so that I may sort through the utter mess I've made of my life.”

Charles's brown eyes widened, and his lips parted. Of all the things he might have suspected, it was clear that this was the last. How many people would be similarly shocked, Amanda thought, by the fact that the sensible spinster novelist would have carried on an affair and become pregnant as a result? In spite of her dilemma, she almost took a grim satisfaction in having done something so utterly unpredictable.

Charles continued to hold her hands in a secure clasp. “The father…I assume it is Jack Devlin,” he said rather than asked, with no trace of censure in his tone.

Amanda colored as she stared at him. “You'd heard the rumors, then.”

“Yes. But I could see that whatever had occurred between you in the past was definitely over.”

Amanda let out a small, dry laugh. “Apparently it is not quite over,” she managed to reply.

“Devlin is not willing to do his duty by you?”

Charles's reaction was not at all what she might have expected. Instead of withdrawing from her in distaste, he seemed as calm and friendly as ever, genuinely interested in her welfare. Amanda knew that he was too much of a gentleman to betray her confidence. Anything she told him would not be turned into gossip-fodder. It was a tremendous relief to confide in someone, and she found herself returning the pressure of his grip as she spoke.

“He does not know, nor will he ever. Jack has made it quite clear in the past that he does not want to marry. And he would certainly not be the kind of husband I would wish for. That is why I am going away…I cannot stay in England as an unwed mother.”

“Of course. Of course. But you must tell him. I do not know Devlin well, but he must be given the opportunity to take responsibility for you and the child. It is not fair to him, or the child, to keep such a secret.”

“There is no point in telling him. I know what his response will be.”

“You cannot bear this burden alone, Amanda.”

“Yes, I can.” Suddenly she felt very calm, and she even smiled slightly as she looked into his broad, concerned face. “Truly, I can. The child will not suffer at all, and neither will I.”

“Every child needs a father. And you will need a husband to help and sustain you.”

Amanda shook her head decisively. “Jack would never propose to me, and if he did, I would never accept.”

The words seemed to unlock some secret daredevil in Charles, some extraordinary impulse that exhorted him to blurt out a question that amazed her. “What if
I
proposed to you?”

She stared at him without blinking, wondering if he had taken leave of his senses. “Charles,” she said patiently, as if half suspecting that he had not understood her before, “I am expecting another man's child.”

“I would like to have children. I would regard this one as my own. And I would very much like to have you as my wife.”

“But why?” she asked with a bewildered laugh. “I've just told you that I'm going to have a child out of wedlock. You know what that indicates about my character. I am not at all the kind of wife you require.”

“Let me be the judge of your character, which I find as estimable as ever.” He smiled into her pale face. “Do me the honor of becoming my wife, Amanda. There is no need for you to move far away from family and friends. We would have a very good life together. You know we suit each other. I want you…and I want this child as well.”

“But how can you accept someone else's bastard as your own?”

“Perhaps many years ago I would not have. But now I am entering the autumn of my life, and one's perspective changes greatly with maturity. I am being offered a chance at fatherhood, and, by God, I will take it.”

Amanda regarded him with astonished silence, and then an unwilling laugh escaped her. “You surprise me, Charles.”

“
You
have surprised
me
,” he returned, his beard parting with a smile. “Come, do not take a long time to consider my proposal—it is hardly flattering.”

“If I did accept,” she said uncertainly, “you would claim this baby as your own?”

“Yes—on one condition. You must first tell Devlin the truth. I could not in good conscience rob another man of the chance to know his own child. If what you say about him is true, he will certainly not cause any trouble for us. He will even be glad to be absolved of the responsibility for you and the child. But we must not begin a marriage with lies.”

“I can't tell him.” Amanda shook her head decisively. She could not conceive what his response might be. Anger? Accusation? Sullen resentment or mockery? Oh, she would rather burn at the stake than have to present him with news of his unborn bastard!

“Amanda,” Charles said softly, “it is likely that someday he will find out. You cannot spend years with that possibility hanging over your head. You must trust me in this…telling him about the child is the right thing to do. After that, you have nothing to fear from Devlin.”

She shook her head unhappily. “I don't know if it would be fair to any of us if I agreed to marry you, and I can't be certain that telling Jack about the baby is the right thing. Oh, I wish I knew what to do! I used to be so certain about the correct choices…I used to think I was so wise and practical, and now the sterling character I thought I possessed is in shambles, and—”

Charles interrupted with a quiet chuckle. “What do you
wish
to do, Amanda? The choice is simple. You may go abroad and live among strangers, and raise your child without a father. Or you may stay in England and marry a man who respects and cares for you.”

Amanda regarded him uncertainly. Put that way, the choice given to her made everything clear. A curious sense of relief mingled with resignation caused her eyes to sting. Charles Hartley was so quietly strong, with a flawless moral compass that amazed her. “I had no idea you could be so persuasive, Charles,” she said with a sniffle, and he began to smile.

 

In the four months since Jack had begun publishing regular installments of
An Unfinished Lady
, it had become a sensation. The clamoring on the “Row,” that section of Paternoster Row north of St. Paul's, was deafening each month on Magazine Day, and the booksellers' representatives all wanted one thing—the latest issue of
Unfinished Lady
.

Demand was climbing higher than Jack's most optimistic estimations. The success of Amanda's serial publication could be attributed to the excellent quality of the novel, the intriguing moral ambiguity of the book's heroine, and the fact that Jack had paid for extensive publicity, including advertisements in all the notable London newspapers.