Loving a Noble Gentleman: A Historical Regency Romance Book

As soon as she did, she snapped into action. She raced to Charlotte’s side and threw an arm over her shoulder. It felt a little uncomfortable as if she was acting in a far too emotional way, but she kept it there regardless.

“What is happening, Charlotte?” she asked anxiously. “Please, tell me what is going on. What has you so upset?”

Charlotte pulled her face up from her hands to look at Mary. With the tears streaming down her face, smudging her make-up on the way down, she knew that she looked a fright, but right now, that was the least of her worries. Charlotte had been living in a hopeless, endless pit of despair for far too long, shouldering the weight of the world upon her. She had not shared her worries for fear of making her situation feel too real, but now she had no choice. She had to share, or she would burst in two.

“I ... I ...” Still it was hard for her to break the habit and actually speak. “I ...”

Mary thought back to the bruises she had seen on her sister’s arm the last time they were together, and she gulped loudly. She wanted to help Charlotte more than anything in the whole world, but how would she help her to escape a cruel and abusive husband? That was utterly unheard of.

“You … what … Charlotte?” Despite the rapid rate that her heart was racing and the dryness of her mouth, Mary spoke, needing to know the truth immediately before her wild imagination got the better of her.

“I am having a baby.”

Charlotte burst into tears; she sobbed so hard her entire body shook violently under the pressure of it all. She had suspected that was the case for a while, and as time went on, there was no way she could deny it anymore. She was having her husband’s baby, and she felt utterly terrified about that.

“A baby?” Mary gasped. “You are having a baby?”

Charlotte sobbed even harder. Somehow, hearing Mary say it made it all the more terrifying. The unusual sensation in her stomach, the life growing in there, it was not going anywhere. She could not escape it.

“I am,” she eventually continued pitifully. “And I am scared.”

She shook her head, and Mary thought for one second she caught a glimpse of another bruise on her sister’s neck. She could not just ask her if she could see it because she knew Charlotte would only speak of it if she wanted to, but she felt certain that it was there all the same.

“I am scared that I shall die,” Charlotte continued, only spiking Mary’s fear further. Was her husband so violent that she was scared he would hit her? “Just like Mother.”

Oh ... of course.

Mary did not know how to take that; it completely stunned her. It was harder for Charlotte than it was her to lose their mother because she was a little older. Maybe she could not exactly remember her too much, but there was a sensation that surrounded her that reminded her of what it was like to be loved unconditionally by the woman who birthed her.

Would she feel the same way when her child came into the world?

“Yes,” Mary said breathily. “Our mother died while she was giving birth to me. Of course you are scared.” She glanced down at her sister with tears welling in the back of her eyes. “Why did you not tell me about all of this? I feel silly now, talking about my problems when you are going through so much yourself.”

Charlotte shook her head sadly. “No, it is nice to think about something else. This has consumed me for so long now; I like a distraction.”

Mary sat back down and clung to Charlotte as if she was scared that she would float away. How could she have been in such a panicked state about whether to marry the Duke or not when all the while her sister was scared that she would not live anymore. Did that make Mary selfish? She could not be sure ...

“What do you think you will do?” she asked Charlotte in a small, scared voice. “What can you do?”

“There is nothing that I can do,” Charlotte replied with a helpless shrug. “I am having the baby ... my husband’s baby. I am only sure this will give those horrible society women more reason to dislike me.”

Again, Mary was silenced. Without having much experience with society women, this was not something that she could talk about. She presumed it would have been something that their mother discussed with them ... had she been alive.

For the first time in her whole life, Mary experienced a true sense of helplessness; she could actually match Charlotte’s emotions with this one. When she first heard that she was going to get married, she was afraid, but nothing like this. This was truly something else. Her sister was pregnant, trapped, and in a desperately unhappy situation that showed no sign of getting better.

“Maybe ... maybe you will love being a mother,” she suggested, aware of the hollow sound in her voice. “I certainly do not believe that you will die in childbirth. What happened to Mother was eighteen years ago. Medicine has progressed immensely since then.”

“People still do not always survive childbirth,” Charlotte replied. “It is not a guarantee. Do you think that maybe we are more likely to struggle because of what happened to Mother?”

Mary had never had cause to think of anything like that, but now the thought almost consumed her. Was that a hereditary thing? Neither girls had thought to ask their father about their mother’s mother. Maybe she died in childbirth too ...

“I am certain that you will be fine.” Mary forced a smile on her face. She could not let an already worried Charlotte continue to be terrified. “And I am sure that your baby will bring you no end of happiness. You will make a wonderful mother.” A thick ball of emotion lodged itself firmly in Mary’s throat, and it was one that she could not swallow down. “You spent enough time taking care of me.”

“I did not,” Charlotte let out a little sound that was almost like a chuckle. “Father had staff to take care of the both of us.”

“I know.” Mary nodded agreeably. “But you were still a wonderful sister, and you will make a fantastic mother too.”

Charlotte felt utterly grateful for her sister’s kind words. In a way, she was so glad that she had decided to tell her. At least now it was not some shameful secret that she was keeping just for herself ... but in another way, maybe it was not that good. As soon as Mary went, so would any positivity she felt about the situation.

This baby was still coming, whether she liked it or not.

“Would you ...?” Mary did not know what she was supposed to do. All she wanted at that moment was to help out her sister. Any problem she had herself paled into insignificance. “Would you like me to come and stay here? For you, not me?” Mary was not sure that Charlotte’s husband would like it much, especially if what she suspected about him was true, but he was not important to her.

Charlotte did, of course she did. She would have to be utterly insane not to, but she could not invite her sister into her complex family life if it were not utterly necessary. Lord Jones would not like it, and she did not want to cause an unnecessary argument with him. She would do it to help out Mary, but not herself.

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