Chapter
29

Daisy barked a loud greeting as the Stainsby carriage pulled up in front of Hartford Hall. Standing at the open front door, Hannah smoothed the fabric of her green silk dress over her bulky front. Her stomach hadn’t roiled this much since the early days of her pregnancy.

She squeezed her eyes shut, a desperate plea echoing in her heart. Please, Lord, let Nolan be here. Please let him come to claim his family.

Seconds later, her anticipation floated away like dead leaves in the wind when the carriage door opened and the earl emerged—alone. Hannah remained focused on the coach, praying Nolan would alight, but the driver stepped up to close the door.

Nolan was not inside.

Still, a small flicker of hope remained that perhaps he had chosen to ride King instead of being confined in a carriage. She waited, holding her breath, as the earl mounted the steps to the front door.

“My lord.” She curtsied as low as her belly allowed.

He was impeccably dressed as usual in a black frock coat, striped cravat, gloves, and top hat. His silver-winged sideburns had been trimmed in a precise line, his hair slicked back beneath his hat.

“Good afternoon, Hannah.” He bowed over her offered hand. “I see you are keeping well.” He glanced at her abdomen and then back to her face.

“Very well, sir.” She worked to contain her surprise. He greeted her as though she were his peer rather than a servant. Perhaps it was due to her new wardrobe.

“I’m pleased to hear it.” He peered over her shoulder, a brow lifted. “Is our hostess not here to greet me?”

Light footsteps tapped across the inside tiles, and a flustered Iris appeared. “Here I am. Please forgive my tardiness, Lord Stainsby. An issue with one of my staff.” She paused to catch her breath, a blush staining her cheeks. She patted several stray hairs into place and made an effort to compose herself. “Welcome to Hartford Hall.”

The earl’s mouth tipped up in a smile. “Lovely to see you again, Your Grace.” He took Iris’s hand and slowly brought it to his lips.

For the first time since Hannah had known her, Iris appeared out of her element, staring at the earl as if every thought had left her head. “P-Please do come in.”

Eyes still trained on her face, he took her arm in his, and together they walked through the entrance.

Hannah remained on the top step to scan the road as far as she could see, but no telltale signs of a rider came into view. She blinked hard to hold back the threat of tears, squared her shoulders, and reentered the house.

Molly appeared in the hall, and together she and Hannah joined their mother, the earl, and Aunt Iris in the parlor.

“Where is Nolan?” Iris asked as they took their seats. “Was he unable to join you?”

Hannah perched on the settee, her back ramrod stiff.

The earl flicked a quick glance in Hannah’s direction. “He had some urgent business to attend to, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure he’ll do his best to be here.” Iris gave Hannah a sympathetic smile.

Hannah’s insides quivered, and she bit her lip to keep her distress from showing. Nolan’s absence spoke louder than any words. Clearly, she and their child were not important enough.

When the refreshments arrived, Iris rose and the earl turned his attention to Hannah. “Nolan tells me you are well. At least from what he ascertained in your letters.”

“As well as can be expected.” Without one’s husband. She frowned. Why was the earl suddenly so interested in her? It had to be because she carried a possible Fairchild heir.

Anger swooped in to replace the tide of hurt. Anger at this man for dashing her dreams into pieces. She lifted her chin to glare at him. “Tell me the truth, sir. Did you succeed in having my marriage to Nolan annulled? Is that why he no longer wishes to see me?”

Her bold question did not seem to faze the man, as his expression did not change, save for the slight rise of one brow. “I believe that question will be best answered by Nolan himself.” Then the Earl of Stainsby winked at her and rose from his chair.

What on earth did that mean?

Flummoxed, Hannah stared as he crossed the room to Iris’s side and prayed that Nolan would show up soon to clarify the situation once and for all.

Sometime later, after freshening up in his guest quarters, Edward descended the impressive Hartford staircase to the hallway below. While the duchess took care of some estate business, he planned to check out the late Duke of Hartford’s library as Iris had suggested earlier. According to her, it was a private collection without equal.

Following the directions she had given him, he made his way down a back corridor to the double-paneled doors. He entered the library, surprised to find a fire burning in the hearth.

He gazed around the room, which consisted of row upon row of books, organized in floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves. Iris wasn’t exaggerating—it was a fine library indeed.

Edward hoped he wouldn’t have too much time on his hands for reading, since he was looking forward to enjoying the company of his hostess. Other than her unusual bluntness, he found her to be charming and capable, a woman of extreme intelligence, as demonstrated by her running of such a vast estate—also further evidence of her flying in the face of social convention.

He scanned the rows of shelves, searching for a volume to catch his interest. As he reached out a hand to choose one, a low bark sounded near his feet. Edward froze. The mud-colored canine blended right into the carpet. He would have stepped on the creature if it hadn’t moved.

The dog sprang to its feet and leaped up, its front paws landing on Edward’s chest.

“Get down.” He pushed the animal aside and moved back, tripping over the edge of the settee and landing in an undignified heap on the floor.

A youthful giggle met his ears as he twisted to right himself. On his hands and knees, he glared in the direction of a wing chair, where the wide eyes of Molly Burnham peered at him from behind her book.

“What the deuce is so funny?” His most ferocious earl voice failed to intimidate her, as her shoulders shook with silent glee.

Another burst of laughter erupted from the doorway. “Why, I think that should be obvious, Edward.” Iris made no attempt to conceal her mirth at his predicament.

How much had she witnessed of his disgrace? With as much dignity as he could muster, Edward pulled himself to his feet and tugged his waistcoat into place.

Daisy trotted to her mistress’s side as though bearing no fault in his humiliation.

He jabbed a finger in its direction. “That beast should not be allowed loose.”

Another stifled giggle came from Molly.

Iris laid a hand on Daisy’s brown head and sighed. “This will never do. Please sit down, Edward.”

He clenched his teeth together and reluctantly obeyed.

“Molly dear, would you go and check on Hannah for me? I need a word with the earl in private.”

“Yes, Auntie.” The girl grabbed her book, gave a quick curtsy, and left the room.

“Daisy, come.” Iris settled herself beside him on the sofa, while Daisy padded over to sit in front of them, tongue lolling, watching her mistress with adoring eyes.

It took all of Edward’s concentration not to flinch at the drool dripping from the sides of its mouth. Edward had never had pets. The only animals he tolerated were his beloved horses, as well as the dogs he kept for hunting, and the occasional barn cat to keep the mice population under control. As far as he was concerned, dogs belonged in the barn, not shedding hair and slobbering over the furniture and carpets.

“First of all, Edward, you need to relax. Animals can sense your dislike. Now give me your hand.” Iris’s calm gray eyes held his as she waited with her palm up for him to comply.

“Why?” He eyed her with suspicion.

“Do you trust me, Edward?”

“I fail to see—”

“Yes or no.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Then give me your hand.” The dog remained unmoving at her feet.

Edward swallowed once and placed his hand in hers. Her smooth fingers sent chills up his arm, and he forced himself not to snatch his hand away.

“The first thing you must do is let Daisy learn your scent and let her know you like her. That you’re trustworthy.” Her grip on his hand tightened as he tried to jerk it back. “Relax. The more you resist her, the more annoying she will become in trying to win you over.”

Edward huffed out an annoyed breath. “Fine, if it means she will leave me in peace.”

Iris held their joined hands out to touch the animal’s cold, wet nose.

All at once, his focus moved from the dog to Iris’s thumb moving in mesmerizing circles around his palm. Heat blasted up his neck. He turned to find her face very close to his.

“That’s not so bad, is it?” She gave him an angelic smile.

His eyes fell to her upturned lips and unexpected, inappropriate thoughts—like the desire to kiss those lips again—seized his brain.

Daisy let out a yip and nudged their fingers.

Iris turned her attention to the dog, moving Edward’s hand to the top of Daisy’s head. Together they stroked the dog’s silky fur, and her tail began to wag.

“Good girl. You see, Edward is a friend.”

Though his gaze stayed on the dog, Edward’s entire being remained attuned to Iris’s every breath, the touch of her hand, the brush of her elbow against his side.

If it wouldn’t have been horribly rude, he would’ve jumped up and dashed from the room. Away from the onslaught of emotions swirling through his system. Away from the uncomfortable sensation of being caught in a snare.

A very attractive, wonderful-smelling snare—but a snare nonetheless.

After dinner, which Hannah barely picked at just to be polite, Iris moved the small party into the parlor for some entertainment. Her aunt announced she would play the piano, followed by a Bible reading from Molly and, if interest persisted, a reading of poetry. Though Hannah wasn’t in the mood to socialize, she reluctantly rose from the table with the rest of the group.

The earl—or Edward, as he suggested they call him—escorted Iris from the dining hall. “Tell me, Lady Hartford, do you play chess?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She smiled up at him. “My late husband taught me to play early on in our marriage. We often enjoyed a game in the evening by the fire.”

“I hope you’ll indulge me with a match during my stay. Even though I’ve tried to teach Nolan, he isn’t partial to the game. It’s been forever since I’ve faced a good opponent.”

Inside the parlor door, Hannah’s state of anxiety heightened. Perhaps it was the way her mother and Molly had become inseparable since her arrival, or perhaps it was seeing the stirrings of a romance between the earl and her aunt. Whatever the reason, Hannah found she could not abide an evening as a fifth wheel—ignored and invisible once again—all too aware of the gaping hole of Nolan’s absence.

She begged everyone’s pardon, claiming fatigue, and bid them good evening. No one dared challenge her, given her delicate condition. Instead of heading upstairs, however, she slipped down the corridor to the garden doors that led onto the terrace, making sure to keep away from the parlor windows. She craved the cool evening air to whisk away her tortured thoughts and the blackness of the evening to shroud her grieving soul.

Hannah leaned against a stone pillar looking out over her aunt’s darkened gardens, shivering in the damp evening air. She should have taken time to retrieve her wrap before coming out, but she’d forgotten it in her room, and the thought of climbing all those stairs seemed daunting. With her added weight, she tried not to use the stairs more than once a day.

She rubbed a trembling hand over her belly where the child kicked under her ribs. Where is your father, little one? Nolan should be here, sharing her wonder and joy at this life growing within her. Did he care so little for his unborn child that he’d abandon them both?

Hot tears welled in her eyes and, with the dark solitude of the night surrounding her, she allowed them to spill freely down her cheeks. She was tired of being strong and sensible. Tired of waiting for her husband. If it hadn’t been for her condition, she would have sought him out long before this. But traveling at this stage of pregnancy would be inviting disaster. Time was slipping through the hourglass, and soon their babe would be born. Would Nolan leave his child without a father, when he knew the harm it could cause?

A hot flash of pain seared her side. She clutched her belly and held her breath. A few seconds later, the spasm subsided, and Hannah released a long gust of air. Yet, a thread of fear wound its way around her heart.

Please, Lord, don’t let the baby come now. It’s too early. I couldn’t bear to lose Nolan and my baby too.

Another pain shafted through her abdomen. She let out a cry and doubled over, clutching the pillar to keep upright.

“Hannah, what is it?” Quick footsteps sounded on the terrace, and her mother’s warm hands grasped her shoulders.

“I . . . I’m having pains, but it’s too early.”

“Come inside. We need to get you off your feet.” Her mother wrapped a strong arm around Hannah’s waist and steered her back inside to her aunt’s drawing room. She laid her gently on the sofa, placed a pillow beneath her head, and unfolded one of her aunt’s knitted throws over her.

“What were you thinking, staying outside without a wrap? You’re chilled through.”

Her mother’s disapproving frown made Hannah want to weep anew.

“I’m going to get Iris and ask the maid to make you some chamomile tea. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Hannah closed her eyes and shivered, waiting for her mother to return.

At last, she arrived with a hot brick wrapped in flannel, which she place at Hannah’s cold feet. “The maid is bringing the tea. It will warm you and soothe your nerves. You must let go of all this worry, Hannah. It will harm the child.”

Her mother pulled a chair closer to the sofa and took Hannah’s chilled hands, rubbing them to bring the blood back. Minutes later, the maid arrived with the tea. Hannah allowed her mother to help her sit up and sipped from the delicate cup. The hot liquid flowed through her cold, stiff body, infusing a trail of warmth.

If only her heart could thaw as quickly.

“How are the pains now?”

“They have subsided.”

“That’s a relief. Though I must say it saddens me to see you so unhappy, daughter.” Her mother’s features pinched.

Hannah frowned, about to refute her mother’s claim.

“No need to deny it. I could tell the moment I arrived you’re not yourself. What can we do to rectify this situation with Nolan?”

Hannah shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do. I thought Nolan would come, but it’s clear he will not. I will have the baby alone and find some type of employment to support us. Aunt Iris has kindly offered to let us stay with her.”

Her mother’s thin lips flattened. “I never imagined you’d end up raising a child on your own. And to think, all I ever wanted was for you to have a better life than I could give you.”

Hannah stared at her mother in disbelief. “Is that why you left me alone at Stainsby, tore me away from the only family I had left? To give me a good life?”

At one time, Hannah would have been shocked by the bitterness and hostility of her voice, but today, with her feelings so close to the surface, nothing surprised her. She wanted to lash out, to make someone else share her pain.

God suffers with you, my child. He counts every one of your tears. The minister’s words from her father’s funeral sprang to mind. Once again, the words failed to console her.

“What are you insinuating?” Her mother’s face was pale.

“That you chose Molly over me. That you chose your husband’s wishes over your own child. How could you leave me with strangers?”

Her mother’s eyes grew wide. Silence hung in the room.

Then a new searing pain ripped across Hannah’s midsection, eliciting a scream that echoed out into the hall.

Iris rushed into the room. “Hannah dear, shall I send for the doctor?”

“No, no. I’ll be fine.” Her breath came out in pants.

The earl appeared beside her aunt. “Call for the doctor, Iris. I will not have the life of my grandchild jeopardized.” He turned stony eyes to Hannah’s mother. “If you are causing your daughter distress, madam, I suggest you leave immediately.”

Mum nodded meekly. “We’ll talk again when you’re feeling better, Hannah. I’ll be in the parlor if you need me.”

Dr. Greenley, her aunt’s physician, arrived within the hour. He examined Hannah, felt her abdomen, and told her she was having early contractions. “In most cases, these are harmless. Merely the body’s way of preparing for the labor to come. In some instances, however, they continue to progress, and the babe is born prematurely. I hope this will not be the case.”

Hannah twisted the edges of the throw between her fingers. “What must I do, Doctor?”

“For starters, you must stay off your feet. For several days at least. Secondly, you must avoid becoming upset. Try to remain calm so as not to trigger any further contractions.”

Hannah nodded. “I will do whatever I must.”

The doctor patted her arm and snapped his bag closed. “I will leave you a tonic that is known to help stave off labor pains. Take two doses daily.” He straightened. “Now, someone will need to assist this young lady to her bed. If anything further develops, do not hesitate to send your boy for me, Your Grace. I will be back to check on Mrs. Price in two days’ time, barring further developments.”

“Thank you, Dr. Greenley. We are most grateful for your assistance.” Iris ushered him to the door.

Hannah closed her eyes and breathed a prayer of thanks to God for stopping the contractions. She vowed, with His help, to keep her emotions firmly in check for the duration of her pregnancy.

When she opened her eyes, Iris had returned with the earl in tow. “Edward, would you please carry Hannah to her room? I’ll show you the way.”

Heat infused Hannah’s cheeks as the earl reached down and lifted her as though she weighed no more than a feather. She held herself stiffly within his arms, wishing it were Nolan carrying her upstairs instead.

“Relax, Hannah.” The earl’s low voice rumbled through his chest. “Contrary to popular belief, I do not bite.” He glanced down at her then, his features softening. “If it’s Nolan that’s causing your distress, you needn’t worry. One thing I’m certain of is that he loves you and will be here as soon as he’s able. ”

“Truly?”

“You have my word.”

A measure of despair lifted from Hannah’s spirit, easing the tension in her muscles. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Who would have thought the earl would be the one to provide her comfort?

After a full day of rest and no recurrence of the contractions, Hannah was allowed out of bed. Iris asked Edward to bring Hannah down to the drawing room to lie on the settee. Molly and Daisy kept her company, while Molly sewed the final ribbons onto some of the baby clothes Hannah had made.

In the afternoon, Aunt Iris accompanied Hannah’s mother into the drawing room.

“How are you feeling today, Hannah dear?” she asked.

“Much better, thank you.” Hannah tried to muster a smile. For although she had mended physically, her heart and her spirit had not.

“If you feel up to it, and if it is not too distressing, your mother would like a word with you.”

Hannah released a small sigh. Her outburst the other night had been made in the heat of emotional turmoil, and now in the calm light of day, she regretted her accusations. “I would like that. Thank you.”

Her mother crossed the room, and like a bird looking for a perch, seated herself on a high-back chair near Hannah. Iris took a seat at her desk on the opposite side of the room.

“Mum, I need to apologize for the other evening. I wasn’t in my right mind and spoke harshly. I hope you can forgive me.”

“It is I who owe you an apology, Hannah, for my distance all these years. I’m afraid my motives for bringing you to Stainsby were never made clear to you.”

“Your motives?”

She nodded. “When I agreed to marry Robert, he told me he could not afford to take on my children as well as his own. I saw the type of conditions his children lived in, and I did not want that for you—or Molly, for that matter. By leaving you at Stainsby Hall with Edna, I truly believed you’d have a chance at a better life.” Her mother’s eyes grew damp.

Hannah fought to control her emotions, hardly daring to believe her mother’s words. “So it wasn’t because you preferred Molly over me?”

Mum reached forward to clutch Hannah’s hand in her own work-worn ones. “No, Hannah. I love both my daughters equally. Molly’s age and her fragile health were the only things that colored my decision. It almost killed me to leave you. You may not believe that until you’re a mother yourself. Maybe then you’ll understand the lengths a parent would go to for her child’s well-being.”

Hannah caressed her abdomen. Would she be able to make the same type of sacrifice her mother had made? She hung her head. “I’m so sorry for thinking the worst of you.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have explained my actions better. It’s just that I could seldom get away from the farm.” She paused and let out a long breath. “That’s not entirely true. The truth is, it was harder to see you and have to leave you again. Keeping my distance was a way to avoid the pain.” Tears formed in her eyes. “Can you forgive me for not being the mother you deserved?”

Hannah’s heart expanded in her chest, as though a stopper had uncorked, and a flood of affection poured forth. Her mother had loved her after all—had only meant to save her from suffering. She never knew she had unwittingly caused Hannah such grief, or that Hannah had thought herself unloved and abandoned.

“Of course I forgive you, Mum.” Hannah opened her arms to receive her mother’s embrace, their tears mingling on her cheek.

“I love you, Hannah.”

“I love you too,” she whispered.

In the comfort of her mother’s arms, Hannah’s heart began to heal at last, and the seed of a thought began to sprout. Perhaps she was worthy of love after all.