English Rose Ch. 08

Joan was surprised to wake and find that the morning had already grown late. Still tired, she slid out of bed only just catching herself when the room suddenly started to spin. "Oh my," she said. Grabbing the bed post, she caught herself and held on. The spinning eventually stopped but only to give way to a strong wave of nausea.

"My lady," Shelly entered the room in response to her mistress' ring. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Joan assured her. "I must have a touch of something."

Shelly eyed her mistress critically. "Begging your pardon, my lady, but when was your last course?"

Joan opened her mouth to respond only to snap it shut. Sinking to the bed, she counted back...three, four, five..."Six weeks ago," she said.

Shelly waited, watching as her mistress made sense of it. From the stunned look on her face it was hard to tell whether her ladyship considered the possibility good news or bad. "My lady?"

Joan's face broke out in smile as her hand came to rest on the still flat of her stomach. "Not a word, Shelly," she ordered. "I would have his lordship be the first to hear of this."

"Of course, my lady," Shelly beamed, unable to contain her excitement. "When will you tell him?"

"Tonight," she said. "We are expected at the Mathews dinner party but I'll send around our regrets." The Edingtons had become quite the fixture at the Mathews' townhouse and often arranged to attend the same evening entertainments. Sabrina and Lord Radcliff, recently out of deep mourning, were often on hand as well though Marcus was careful to maintain a respectful distance.

"Wait!" Joan called as Shelly dashed off to order a footman. "Perhaps I should wait," she said suddenly uncertain. "I mean, I don't know for sure. I would hate..."

"Perhaps we should send for the doctor," Shelly suggested. "His lordship left word that he would be out most of the morning and afternoon."

"An excellent idea," Joan said. "Send a note when you send our regrets to Lady Mathews. If anyone should ask, I have a headache."

Shelly nodded and slipped from the room.

Joan crossed to the mirror above her dressing table and gave herself a closer look. Other than the ridiculous smile, nothing seemed different.

Marcus arrived home early, his meeting with his man of business having gone better than expected and leaving him free for the afternoon. He was feeling restless, itchy after spending so many days and nights among the ton, and had decided an afternoon in one of his clubs would be just the thing. First, he needed to change.

"Ah, Lord Edington."

Surprised, Marcus looked up just in time to catch Dr. Carter descending the stairs outside of his townhouse. "Good afternoon," Marcus said. "Is everything alright?"

Dr. Carter smiled. "Fine, fine. I was just in to see your wife."

"Joan?" Marcus asked, suddenly alarmed. "Is she okay?"

"I believe she wanted to speak with you herself..." Dr. Carter broke off as Lord Edington brushed past him and hurried inside.

"Joan! Joan!"

"My lord, we weren't expecting you..." Dillon started.

"Where is my wife?" Marcus asked. He had never known Joan to require a doctor. She had seemed fine when he left her that morning. Only, now that he thought about it, he realized that she had been more tired lately, falling into bed exhausted and sleeping late into the morning.

"Her ladyship is in her sitting room taking tea," Dillon provided.

Joan sat staring out the window at nothing, a small smile playing with the lines of her lips when the door to her study burst open and her husband hurried in. "Marcus!"

"Are you alright?" he demanded.

"What are you doing home?"

Marcus waved her question away. "It doesn't matter. I encountered Dr. Carter, are you alright?"

"Bloody hell," she cursed quietly. "I'm fine."

Marcus knelt beside his wife and took her hand. "Then why call for the doctor?"

Joan sighed. Obviously worried, there was no way she could wait until tonight to surprise Marcus. "I had thought to tell you tonight..."

"Tell me what?"

Joan stared down into the face of her husband. "I'm pregnant."

Stunned silence met her announcement. Several seconds passed and still Marcus didn't say anything. "Marcus?"

"Are you sure?" Marcus asked, his voice void of all emotion.

Joan felt the first stirrings of something wrong. "It's still early yet, Dr. Carter wasn't able to confirm with absolute certainty but he suspects as I do. Marcus, are you alright?" Joan reached out and tried to take his hand, surprised when he stood up and stepped out of reach, nearly overturning a table in his haste.

"No." Marcus felt like he was suffocating.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Joan asked.

"No, this isn't happening."

"It most certainly is," Joan said with a touch of laughter. She had thought to surprise her husband - it seems she had surprised him more than intended. "We've been married almost a year. I'm actually a bit surprised it hasn't happened sooner."

"You want this?" Marcus asked, disbelief warring with panic for the dominant spot in his brain.

"Of course," Joan said. "Don't you?"

"No," Marcus said and started backing out of the room. "This is not happening," he ordered. "Not now, not ever."

Horrified, all humor gone, Joan watched as her husband turned and fled the room. She had no idea what had just happened. She never expected that Marcus would be anything less than thrilled at the idea of becoming a father.

****

"Your Grace," Martin said, "Lady Edington asks if you are receiving."

"Of course," Sabrina said, "show her in."

"He's gone," Joan said without preamble as she hurried into the room.

"Martin, see that we are not disturbed." Sabrina waited for the door to close. "Who is gone?"

"Marcus," Joan said, her voice quivering. "He left three days ago and hasn't been back since."

Sabrina frowned. It wasn't like Marcus to simply disappear. Wallow in a haze of liquored stupor, perhaps, but not disappear. "Did he say where he was going? Perhaps there was an emergency..."

Joan shook her head. "No, I...that is we...he just left and I don't think he's coming back," she said and burst into tears.

Quickly, Sabrina crossed the room and guided the young woman to a place beside her on the sofa. "I'm sure everything will be alright. Marcus would never leave you."

"You didn't see him when he left." Joan could still see the emptiness of her husband's eyes.

"Did you argue?" Sabrina asked gently.

"No," Joan sniffed. "I thought he would be thrilled, I had it all arranged but then he came home early."

Sabrina frowned. "What was all arranged?"

Joan brushed at the tears. "I'm pregnant," she whispered. "I was going to surprise him with the news but he ran into Dr. Carter on his way out."

"That's wonderful!"

"No, it's not," Joan said, her tears flowing faster. "Marcus doesn't want a child and he doesn't want me."

Sabrina pulled the young woman into her arms, rocking her gently as she sobbed. "Shhhh," she cooed. "Everything will be alright." Looking up she found Douglas standing in the doorway.

"I will find him," he said grimly. "I'll find him and bring him back."

Sabrina nodded. "Until then, I think it best if she stays here."

"Of course," Douglas agreed.

"No!" Joan said. "I don't want to impose. I just needed to talk to someone, to tell them...I...I just can't go through this alone -- not again."

"Edington has left before?" Douglas asked.

"No, not exactly," Joan hedged.

"Marcus has...moods," Sabrina said.

"You know of them?" Joan asked.

"Yes," Sabrina admitted. "I know of them but not as to their cause."

"Have there been very many of them?" Douglas asked gently.

"Just the one," Joan said. "I should go." She stood, suddenly embarrassed at having come.

"Joan," Sabrina said softly and pulled her back down beside her. "You will stay here until Marcus returns or for however long you wish."

"I don't..."

"You are not an imposition," Sabrina insisted. Choosing her next words carefully, she said, "I saw Marcus not long after his last...not long ago," she started. "I had thought to speak with you, to let you know that you are always welcome here, especially when Marcus is indisposed."

"Thank you," Joan whispered. "As much as I hate to admit it, I would much rather be here than at home alone."

Douglas laughed quietly. "A resounding endorsement if I ever heard one."

"Oh!" Joan exclaimed. "I apologize...I meant no offense..."
 "Leave her be, Douglas," Sabrina scolded. "Pay him no mind, Joan, he's teasing. Come, pen a note to your maid and have her send over some things while I call for tea."

Douglas shared a look with his wife before quietly slipping from the room. He was not entirely unfamiliar with Edington's likely destination having spent time there in his youth. Still, it had been some time since he last frequented the hells in London. It would take time to search them all and track down his lordship. He had better get started.

****

Marcus drained his glass and signaled the barkeep. "Leave the bottle."

The barkeep nodded before heading back behind the bar, giving the man a wide berth. He wasn't the only one. The golden lord had strolled in several hours early, played some hard hands of cards before settling into a dark corner to drink. It was clear that he was here for a reason and it wasn't to be social.

Marcus sighed as another of the bar's whores sidled up to his table. "Not interested," he growled.

"Come now, love, there's no need to be drinking alone," Mary drawled. There was no doubt in her mind that this right here was the richest man to walk into her life. A tumble with him would bring her enough coin to keep her off her feet and her back for weeks. "Why don't you pour ol' Mary a glass of whatever you've got there," she said, trailing her fingers along the fine arm of his coat. "Hey!" she cried, the sudden grip on her wrists more surprising than painful.

"Get. Lost." Marcus said, barely controlled fury adding weight to his words.

Mary hurried to the other side of the room, the space between her shoulder blades itching as he watched her flee.

Hours later Marcus sat staring into a glass that never stayed empty. The barkeep had long ago learned to keep the bottles coming and the whores away. He had a room upstairs but found himself reluctant to retire for the evening.

"My lord?"

Marcus sighed. Preparing to run off yet another whore, he looked up, his eyes passing over a narrow waist, pert tits and a pixie like face. Through his drunken haze, he was just able to make out blond hair floating around a petit face. "Joan..." he whispered.

"Care to share a drink with a working girl?" she asked.

Not Joan. Just another whore.

Marcus blinked and brought the whore into focus. Petit and blond but that was where the similarities to his wife ended. Where Joan was smoothed skinned and fresh this woman had a hardness about the eyes, her facing showing the years that working on her back had added to her age.

"You look like you could use some company," the whore tried again. Louie and already warned the girls away but the promise of coin was too tempting, the girls having decided that it was worth the risk.

Marcus stared at her long and hard, surprised when she neither fidgeted nor ran off. "Not here," he said. Grabbing the bottle, he took the girl by the arm and led her up to his room.

**** Douglas was careful to watch his step as he climbed the dark stairs. The hall was narrow, the floor uneven and rotten in places. The scent of piss and the sour smell of wine gone bad perfumed the air. He had spent the night steadily working his way through the hardest hells in London. Edington's name had come up frequently along with whispers of his return to his wicked ways. No one seemed surprised.

His last stop was The Wild Pony - a cheap brothel with low stakes gaming. The place was rundown, not much more than a shack with a broken sign above the door. No one from the ton came here, not even the demimonde would stoop to stepping through the front door.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Douglas stepped over something he didn't want to look too closely at and stopped to listen. All was quiet, the tenants of the establishment having only just retired for the day. The barkeep had been annoyed at the early disruption but directed Douglas to the last room on the right. Not bothering to knock, Douglas shouldered open the door and let himself in.

Marcus looked up from his place on the floor. "Ah, Lord Radcliff, imagine meeting you here."

"Edington," Douglas said stepping into the dingy room and closing the door behind him. "Get up; it's time to go home."

Marcus took a long drink from the bottle in his lap. "No."

Douglas' eyes narrowed. "Either get up of your own free will or I will..." he stopped as sudden movement drew his attention to the rumpled sheets of the bed.

"Get out," he ordered. Looking around he located the discarded clothes he'd missed upon his arrival. Gathering everything, he tossed it at the bed. "Don't bother getting dressed," he ordered, "just get out."

Silently, Marcus watched as the blond from last night gathered her things before slipping out.

"I promised your wife and mine that I would bring you home," Douglas said. "But perhaps it is best if, as far as everyone else is concerned, I never found you."

"It most certainly is," Marcus agreed.

Douglas' jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists with the overwhelming urge to beat some sense into the man. "You're a disgrace," he lashed out. "What pitiful poor excuse for a man abandons his wife and unborn child? You want to wallow in filth and self-pity, so be it. Rest assured that your wife and child will be well taken care of. As for you, I'd rather see you rot in hell before I take you back to Joan."

Marcus watched as Douglas started for the door. "Thank you," he muttered quietly. As much as he didn't get along with Radcliff, he knew the man to be true to his word. The Duke and Duchess of Spiegel would see that Joan and the babe were taken care of.

Douglas stopped short, hand on the door. Looking back over his shoulder he found Edington watching him with something that looked suspiciously like regret and gratitude. "I don't understand you. You obviously care for your wife and what happens to her. So why not care for her yourself?"

"It's not that simple," Marcus said taking another drink.

"It never is," Douglas offered thinking back to his past with Sabrina. "Get up, man and go home."

"I can't. You were right, they are all better off without me."

"I have no idea what this is all about," Douglas said, quickly losing patience once again. "Honestly, I wouldn't really care if you stayed here and drank yourself into a well deserved early grave. Unfortunately, my wife and yours - two women I care a great deal about - seem to think that there is something in you worth saving. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself, pull your head out of your arse and get up."

"Do I honestly look like the kind of man to be a husband and father?"

"No, but you are all they have," Douglas answered. "Your child may not be born a bastard but your name is not nearly enough to protect him or his mother should you abandon them."

Marcus still reeled at the thought of being a father. He didn't want to think about the consequences of bringing a life into this world. Unfortunately, it appeared that Radcliff was determined to force the issue. "I don't know if I can do this," he admitted.

"You don't have a choice," Douglas said crossing back to where Edington still sat on the floor. "Shove over," he said, "and get rid of that rot."

Surprised, Marcus automatically took the flask Radcliff offered him.

"Is this really all because there is a babe on the way?" Douglas finally asked. "I would think you would be happy at the idea of a son and an heir. Sabrina and I have been hoping..."

"Leave it be," Marcus said. "It's not something you can fix."

"Have you spoken to your wife?"

"She doesn't need to be burdened with this," Marcus said taking another drink.

Radcliff was quiet for a moment. "A while back I thought to protect my wife," he said. "The particulars are not important for this discussion. What matters is that when she found out it nearly destroyed our marriage. In her mind, my greatest crime was not telling her and leaving her to find out from someone else."

"What are you getting at?" Marcus asked.

"Whatever is going on with you, trust Joan to be able to handle it. Talk to your wife, tell her what is going on."

"The truth shall set me free?" Marcus mocked.

"I don't know," Douglas said getting to his feet and heading for the door. "But it certainly cannot be any worse than where you are right now."

"Will you tell them that you found me?"

"I don't know," Douglas admitted. "Either way, I won't be telling them about the whore."

"There's nothing to tell," Marcus said. "Honestly," he said in answer to Radcliff's grunt of disbelief. "I thought to but in the end..." he shrugged. "Whatever else I may be an adulterer is not one of them."

Douglas nodded once in acknowledgement if not belief before letting himself out.

**** Joan sat with Douglas and Sabrina, the two women taking tea and talking quietly while Douglas read the paper. It had three days since Joan came to stay with them, two days since Douglas' return without Marcus. At first, they had been hopeful but as the days passed Joan had become more resigned and Sabrina more angry.

"What are you going to do?" Sabrina asked gently. She had been careful to avoid much mention of Marcus as the two women spent most of the past few days together. But as more time passed without word she thought it best that they start to plan.

While she wasn't ready to start knitting booties, the reality of Joan's pregnancy had sunk in and she was starting to feel excited. "I don't know," she said. "I certainly can't remain here."

"Of course you can," Sabrina said. "In fact, what would you say to joining us at Arlington Park?"

Surprised, Joan blinked. "I...I don't know what to say. I know you haven't been back since the duke's passing."

Sabrina looked over at Douglas. "No, we haven't," she said. "But I think it's about time. We wouldn't be leaving right away, of course. You could spend the last of your confinement with us. Besides, there is nothing like a new baby to brighten a place up."

"While it's a very generous offer, I'm hoping that my wife will be returning home with me," Marcus said.

"Marcus." Joan rose to her feet but didn't cross to greet her husband.

Marcus stood just inside the door; hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks he resisted the urge to fidget beneath the stares of three people that had become so important to him. "If I may," he said, breaking the silence, "I'd like a word with my wife."

Sabrina looked up at Joan, waiting for her to nod before rising. Crossing the room, she stopped next to Marcus. "You had better be back to stay," she said, her voice icy cold. "Because if you ever abandon them again I will ruin you and I will do it all while protecting your wife and child."

"Sabrina..." Joan said.

"No," Sabrina said over her shoulder. "Never again."

Sabrina didn't wait for Marcus to respond before walking out, her steps beating an angry retreat.

"Edington," Douglas said with a nod before following his wife out of the room.

Marcus took a deep breath and rubbed at the spot between his eyes.

"I'm sorry, she had no right..." Joan said.

"Don't," Marcus said, holding up a hand. "She's right, I've just never been on the receiving end of her anger."

Joan stood staring at her husband. She was unsure of what to say or do. "You wanted to speak with me?"

Marcus nodded. "May I sit?"

"Of course," Joan indicated the couch, taking a seat at the other end.