“I ain’t goin’ ter say it again, miss, in case the walls ‘ave ears, but I reckon yer know wot I mean.”
Araminta rose quickly, sweeping over to the bigger, rectangular looking glass that hung above the fireplace. She looked beautiful. Exquisite. As long as no one cast their gaze below her breasts, they’d think her the most stunning and desirable woman in the world. Lord Ludbridge certainly would.
“I heard my carriage pull up outside the front. Come, Jane. I may as well stay at Miss Hetty’s tonight. Tell Jem to let Debenham know—if he ever returns—though I doubt he’d be remotely interested.”
She didn’t care about Debenham. As she labored down the stairs, excitement skittered up her spine. In a few more weeks, the wretched baby would be out, and she could start afresh and as she meant to go on. She’d be free. Free to have the life she deserved.
Ensconced inside the carriage, she wrapped her furs more closely about her. The journey was not long. She’d not confirmed with Hetty that she’d come, so she would be a delicious surprise for Lord Ludbridge. She thought with delight of the passionate light in his eye when he’d last regarded her. Poor man, he’d imagined her lost to him. Not that he hadn’t deserved it. His appalling behavior in abandoning her at her most critical hour ought to be punished. But tonight, she’d find a way to communicate that his patience since would be rewarded. Her entire body shivered in anticipation at the thought. She would reward him in a way that would satisfy the desire of any lovelorn, red-blooded male.
“Go!” She rapped on the roof of the carriage she’d asked Jem to hire since Debenham had taken theirs. He’d recently sold the phaeton, pretending he was ordering a finer equipage, but Araminta knew it was to settle a gambling debt.
Closing her eyes, she gripped the leather seat as she lurched forward and the horses set off at a brisk trot. As soon as she reached Sir Aubrey’s townhouse, Hetty would see to her comfort like the good sister she was. Lord Ludbridge could see to her amusement. She was looking forward to more fun than she’d had in months. Dreamily, she watched the tall houses pass by as they traveled through the cobbled streets and headed toward Covent Garden.
Lulled by the rhythmic motion of the carriage and the pleasant thoughts that were occupying her, she wasn’t prepared for the ripping pain that seemed almost to wrench her in half.
“Dear God!” She dragged herself upright and took a deep breath. The pace was sedate, and the horses had not lurched or taken a corner too fast. Perhaps she’d imagined it.
Araminta sucked in a breath and tried to sit up straight. “I’m quite alright—” she began reassuring herself but she couldn’t finish the word. There was the pain again. Unbearable. This time, she screamed, hunching into herself as she felt warm liquid oozing down her thighs. Panic-stricken, she put her hands to her belly and felt the movement within while another pain, more intense than the previous and worse than she’d ever experienced, convulsed through her again. What was happening?
She must have screamed for the carriage had halted, and the coachman appeared now, his face in the doorway he’d opened a crack. “Did I hear yer wished to stop, m’lady? Is everyfink o’right?”
Araminta tried to straighten with dignity. She was going to tell him to crack his whip and get moving, that she needed to reach Hetty’s townhouse, but another contraction caused her to shriek once more and she couldn’t reply.
“M’lady, wot d’yer want me to do?” He sounded panicked, but Araminta was gasping like a fish, her pain too acute to answer him. Dear God, the baby was coming. The baby was coming early. No, perhaps not early. Just earlier than it should be coming, and she had not the remotest idea what to do about it. She’d buried her head in the sand, and now the nightmare was upon her.
“Lady Debenham, wot d’yer want me ter do? Fetch ’elp?” he shouted over her screaming.
“I say, did I hear the name Lady Debenham?” A young, female voice intruded. Araminta didn’t open her eyes, but she heard the concern amid the breathy voice and wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or dismayed. Giving birth so early was not something she wished to be made common knowledge. “I heard the coachman address you as I was leaving the theater, and then I heard you scream. How can I help?”
There seemed a hiatus between the agonizing contractions, and right now Araminta needed to muster all her wits. “Get inside,” she ordered, breathing hard. “I don’t care who you are, just get inside and tell the coachman to keep moving.”
She heard the sound of the carriage door opening wider, then felt it tilt as it was occupied by another before a soft hand was placed on her forearm. “Lady Debenham. It’s Miss La Bijou, if you recall.”
Araminta opened her eyes which she’d squeezed shut. She tried to straighten and to push back her shoulders and respond with dignity. “Oh yes, Miss La Bijou. Well, Miss La Bijou, I do need some help, as it happens. I need to find somewhere I might...I might...lie down.”
Miss La Bijou sent her a questioning look. “Shall I tell the coachman to take you home?”
“I do not want to go home. No, indeed. You don’t understand. I need to go anywhere but home.” Fear was coalescing, crawling up her throat and making her want to cry except that she couldn’t succumb to weakness. She hadn’t made a plan before, but now she could leave it no later.
“Where do you live, Miss La Bijou?”
“Me?”
“Yes, I asked you where your lodgings are? I need to go there.” She had to break off as another contraction gripped her, threatening this time to tear her in two. Unable to control the pain, she threw her body the length of the seat, the upper part of her body pressed against the unopened door.
“You’re having a baby, Lady Debenham. You can’t have it in my lodgings when your home is around the corner.” The girl sounded panicked.
While she wiped her sweating forehead with a linen handkerchief, Araminta summoned the energy to speak. “Just take me to where you live!” she hissed. “And I will make it more than worth your while. The fewer who know I’m having this baby now, the better. Understand? No? I will explain when we get there. I simply cannot return to my townhouse, and if you tell the coachman to take me there, I’ll make sure you regret it.” She gasped at another spasm of pain. Heat and agony seemed to cover her like a blanket. “Just...do...as...I...tell you!”
She could feel the sweat dripping between her breasts. Her thighs were damp; her petticoats soaked. Already she was covered with the filth of this child who’d not yet made his entrance to the world; this child who had blighted her hopes of happiness. No, she would not have it at home, and she’d not let the world know what was happening. She’d not let it ruin the rest of her life.
Vaguely, she heard Miss Bijou say something to the coachman before her calm, sweet voice sounded in her ear. “What can I do to ease the pain?”
Araminta closed her eyes in relief as the vehicle began to move. “Nothing can ease the pain,” she whimpered. “I just need to get the baby out.”
For a while, the world seemed a haze of unreality. Araminta was barely conscious that they’d stopped in a dark laneway. She could hear Miss La Bijou’s shoes clicking on the cobbles, her loud rapping upon a thin wooden door somewhere nearby, and the fear in her voice as she called out a name.
Then the carriage door was opened, a woman’s voice commanded, “Coachman, lift ‘er unda the arms and ‘elp me take ‘er inside. That’s right. I’m the ‘ealer she’s requested. It’s ‘er ladyship’s wish that I attend ‘er and ya can go ‘ome and say nuffink about wot yous seen or done tonight.” This was followed by the chink of coins and the surprised grunt of the coachman.