‘He did mention it briefly, yes,’ Margaret agreed, frowning again. ‘He wants you to go into hospital for some tests, apparently.’
‘Yes. He’s coming back this afternoon to tell me what arrangements he’s made.’
It was plain to Margaret that her niece’s mind was on something else, and she looked at her thoughtfully for a second before saying quietly, ‘What’s really worrying you, Lucy?’
Her aunt’s perception brought a vagrant smile to her lips. ‘Saul wants us to get married,’ she said bluntly. ‘He knows about the baby.’
‘My dear, you must be so pleased!’
Margaret’s reaction was so different from her own that it was several seconds before Lucy could assimilate it. When she had, she smiled a little wryly. Perhaps it was unfair of her after all to expect her aunt to be anything other than a product of her generation and upbringing. To Margaret, the fact that Saul wanted to marry her obviously represented a happy ending to the little saga.
‘He doesn’t love me, Margaret,’ she felt bound to say. ‘He simply wants to marry me because…’ She could hardly tell her aunt of Saul’s dislike of Neville, she realised.
‘Because he feels it is the right thing to do,’ her aunt finished approvingly for her. ‘And so it is, Lucy. A child needs two parents,’ she reminded her niece, unwittingly echoing Saul’s own words. ‘I know you must be feeling very muddled and confused, but, my dear, I do urge you to give Saul’s proposal proper consideration. Of course your uncle and I would support you in whatever you decide to do, but I really think…’
‘That I should accept Saul’s proposal?’
Suddenly she felt unutterably depressed… betrayed almost. She wanted to cry out that she didn’t want to marry a man who didn’t love her, but somehow she simply did not have the strength, and wouldn’t Aunt Margaret perhaps just think her actions selfish? Was she being selfish, in denying her child the opportunity to grow up in the secured, moneyed background Saul could provide for them?
What was the matter with her? she asked herself crossly. How on earth had she become so irresolute and weak? She was behaving more like Fanny than herself; Fanny the clinging vine who was only too happy to entrust her responsibilities to others.
Suddenly she thought of Oliver, growing up under the burden of not knowing the truth about his parentage. Would she honestly want that for her child?
* * *
What on earth should she do?
It was a question which worried at her almost constantly over the next two days, wholly taking over that part of her brain which was not occupied with the hospital tests that were being carried out on her.
The private room she had found waiting for her on her arrival at the local hospital had been something of a surprise, and she had queried it, only to discover that she had been given a private room on Saul’s instructions.
Already he seemed to be taking over her life, staking a claim in the future of their child.
So far the tests had been very reassuring, and the doctor attending her was convinced that the vitamin deficiency was relatively minor.
‘That does not mean of course that it can be ignored,’ he told her on the second afternoon of her stay. ‘But it does mean that initially we can compensate for it with very small doses of vitamin.
‘Mr Bradford informs us that it’s more than likely that you and he will be returning to Florida very shortly. That’s good. The Americans are very on the ball with their ante-natal care. The sunshine should help as well—it will make you relax a little. You’re very tense and on edge. Too much so. It won’t do the baby any good, you know.’
‘Are you trying to tell me I could have a miscarriage?’ Lucy asked frantically, alarmed by the grave expression in his eyes.
‘There is always that possibility,’ he agreed. ‘Not so much due to the vitamin problem as to your own mental state. You need to relax more. You’re not sleeping, so the nurses tell me. These first months are often an anxious time, especially with a first baby. Some women can sail through pregnancy, others aren’t as lucky. Your health will need to be carefully monitored.’
After he had gone, Lucy lay with her eyes closed, but sleep had never been further away. Did she have the right to risk the life of her baby, simply because she could not endure that thought of Saul marrying her merely out of necessity? Because she wanted love and not duty?
She was told that she could go home the following morning, but that she ought to stay in the area for a few days until all the results of the tests had come through.
In the evening Margaret and Leo both visited her, Leo looking faintly apprehensive and Margaret openly admiring the luxury of her room.