Forgiveness does not negate consequences.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Please, Lord. Please have mercy on me. If I am with child, I see no escape from him. I will have to marry him. I would have no other option, not unless I wanted to resign my offspring to life as an outcast.
Compared to the other women in her family, she had never felt particularly maternal. She had experienced only occasional pangs at having never conceived, not the agony Hez’s wife, Paulina, had gone through before little Ezra came along. But the thought of finally having a babe and ruining his life before he was even born…nausea roiled.
“If you are too tired for the lesson this afternoon, Miss Mari—”
“We’ll be there.” If she were tired enough to require a midday rest, she could take it before or after the signing lessons. And heaven knew Barbara never seemed to tire, though she insisted on continuing her volunteering at the hospital three days a week and came with Marietta to the carriage house when she was at home.
Her maid said no more as she buttoned the back of the dress and then coiled Marietta’s hair at the base of her neck and secured it with a lacy snood. Though she felt as though she should follow up this thawing between them, Marietta couldn’t think what to do other than smile and thank her. She added a silent prayer for Cora and her babe, for Elsie and Walker, but she wasn’t Barbara. She didn’t yet feel comfortable talking about faith at every turn.
Once she was alone again, she fastened Grandmama’s necklace around her neck and scooted her Bible off the stacks of papers. Taking them in hand, she headed down to the second floor. A minute later she stashed them with the invisible ink in her drawing room.
Her hand hovered over the drawer. Or rather, over that white square of fabric she had looped around the vials. The S.O. initials peeked up from the handkerchief’s corner. She should have it washed. Return it. Something. Something other than leaving it there, encircling her secrets.
She closed the drawer, turned the lock, and hurried into the breakfast room. Barbara and Mother Hughes were both inside already, and both greeted her with a smile. Funny, though, how the sincerity in her sister-in-law’s made the pretense in her mother-in-law’s all the more apparent.
“Good morning.” Marietta filled a plate, poured herself a cup of coffee sans sugar or cream, and took her usual seat.
Mother Hughes touched her napkin to the corner of her mouth. “How good of you to decide to join us, Mari dear.”
“You look tired.” Barbara, seated at her side, touched her wrist. Her warm eyes glowed with concern. “Are you well?”
“Fine, thank you.” She took a sip of the strong brew and felt marginally better. “I awoke a little after four and couldn’t get back to sleep. My mind would not stop spinning.”
Barbara’s laugh sounded like sunshine. “How well I understand.”
Marietta smiled and took another drink. And wished, prayed, that the spinning of her mind were like everyone else’s. The pictures sometimes raced by so fast she couldn’t grasp hold of one, none of the details that vied for attention had any rhyme or reason. Most of the time she could pull forward what information she needed, but sometimes it was more cacophony than symphony. More thunder than lightning. More a dizzying circle than a line she could follow.
Mother Hughes merely sniffed and took a bite of egg. Her appetite had improved, for which Marietta was thankful, and her cheeks had color again.
Though she could do without the return of the disapproving glint to her eyes.
A glint that shifted into pure adoration when heavy, quick footfalls sounded and Dev strode into the room as if he owned it.
Marietta put down her cup. If he had his way, he would own it soon enough, and her with it. How could a thought that made her blood race in expectation a month earlier now make her want to race from the room?
“Devereaux darling.” His mother held out a hand and tilted up her face to receive his kiss upon her cheek.
“Good morning, Mother.” He smiled, no doubt cataloging her continued improvement just as Marietta had. Then he turned to her.
It wasn’t right, the way it all got tangled up inside her. New truths and old, repulsion and attraction, the memory of love and the need to escape him before he devoured her whole. Too tired to wade through the mess, she merely dug up a halfhearted smile and muttered, “Dev.”
“Darling.” He kissed her cheek as he had his mother’s and rested his hand upon her shoulder. Not so much as looking at Barbara, he leaned into the table. “I wanted to stop by before I head to the station. I need to travel to Cumberland. I’ll depart on Monday and will be gone a week.”
Marietta lowered the fork she had picked up but had yet to use. “A week.”