***Fitz POV***After informing my brother I was cutting him loose, I found myself in a fistfight on the bank of the Thames that left me a bloodied mess.My downfall began after finding him drunk and on the verge of being thrown out of a gentlemans club. This was the same week Kitty had announced her engagement to the Viscount Donegan. A dour, elderly man in his fifties he was one of the richest men in England. The "seasons phoenix" Kitty had been described. The rags gaily noted how through sheer grit and scraping to fellow gentry she ascended back through the ranks. Though the younger, more desirable titled men had been bagged like pheasants, she had eventually secured the richest available suitor.Paying James's obscene tab for the last time, I tried to carry him back to his lodgings. “She’s marrying that old fucker you know,” he grunted. I knew he meant Kitty. The one who got away, his golden ticket to a better life. “You need to leave her alone,” I warned."She swore to me she ca
I am huge. The past few months have seen me develop a pronounced waddle, painful hips and an obsession with cheese. The confinement is not helping matters. The longer I spend in my room feeling inactive the more my body aches with misery. Despite my size, I long to ride on a horse or feel the wind on my face. Stand at the top of a cliff face and inhale the sea air. Anything to feel a dash of excitement. Instead I have surrendered like a prisoner to the same four walls.I am full of anticipation for our child's arrival. Doctor Mathers has suggested the baby has rotated on cue. Their legs are very much kicking upwards, into my very lungs it would seem.I have somehow managed to survive my heartache for Fitz, only the stress of Kitty has seen me through. I am concerned she is heading for a similar misery as a wife as myself. Once the more eligible Viscount Clyde was engaged she set her aim on wealth alone. Looks, humour and affection were qualities she suddenly dismissed in her quest f
Edmund had sent word via Marie that he wanted a wet-nurse to feed our child. Several local village women had given birth, would they not be more than adequate?I had insisted we keep up with modern fashion and I would be allowed to feed them myself. Thankfully Doctor Mathers was a proponent of this new belief. It was beginning to appear unseemly to not feed one's own baby. While Edmund thought this a bow to vanity on my part, and declared it loudly to the room, I had my own reasons. I need my milk to be flowing for I must be able to feed the baby wherever I am fleeing to with Fitz.Edmund is rarely in my presence. I may see him once a day as he peers around the door of my room. His cane announces his presence and I ensure I smile in a saintly fashion. He seems to think that my impending motherhood has made me forget all about his horrific behaviour.He is absent, not because he is being kind to me but because he is starting to decline. By the time we left London he was barely able to
*** Fitz POV ***I quit London soon after sending the book. Like a magnet, or homing pigeon I found myself circling around the various estates around Tarrick Hall. It was potentially dangerous. So far, we had conducted our secret affair without discovery. By all account the Duke was practically senile. It seemed safe enough to take on a role at the inn, stabling and preparing the horses.Sadly my smart grey suit has been packed away and disbanded for now. I return to the world of white shirts and braces. It is honest, hard work. It is just not going to fund a getaway to Ireland like I had hoped.It was a busy enough night, many gentlemen dining and playing cards in the cosy firelit inn. My blood froze when I spotted Edmund himself. I almost didn’t notice him, so radically different was his appearance. Withered and emaciated. Almost skeletal as the gap around his shirt collar gaped. He must be waiting for retailoring as his suits were ill-fitting, the gaps where his body used to fill w
Marie was by my side from the moment the hot fluid first appeared between my legs. She burst into the room before my second scream of panic, suggesting she had been incredibly close to the doorway the entire time. Edmund said nothing further, merely scowling as Marie suggested the staff send for Doctor Mathers.“Your Grace I am here, do not fret,” she soothed, grasping my hand to her chest as I surveyed the damp bedding in panic. We must move you, you will be quite safe, come along. I have a room prepared.”Walking quickly, aware that at every step more liquid was seeping from between my legs we headed into a guest room across the hallway. There were dozens of towels, linens and a hot tin bath waiting. Marie rang a bell three times sharply, within a minute half a dozen servant girls appeared.“Just as we have prepared ladies, I want this tub full and hot, I want the fire lighting and you are to fetch Doctor Mathers in here the instant he arrives.”They curtsied as I found myself reduce
*** Fitz POV ***Standing there waiting whilst Marie informed her was the greatest test of self-restraint I have ever faced. Knowing that behind that thick swaddling of damask fabric lay my newborn child and the brightest light of my life. I had almost forgotten the battered state of my body, the fact that twenty hours ago my nose had been broken and my ribs crushed under the boot of a thug. Nothing mattered now. As Marie offered to watch the door, it enabled me to finally break through the barrier. I heard her soft gasp at seeing my fingers threading through the material. By the time I ducked my head and body inside the curtain I was certain I could faint on sight. For there she lay, a glittering angel under candlelight. Her long brown curls were piled up high. A few chestnut tendrils snaked their way down her perfect, elegant neck. A white nightgown, buttoned high up to her neck gave her an angelic appearance. Her blue eyes were tired but they still had that captivating sparkle.
Waking with a start I worry everything was a dream. Eleanor was immediately upon me, mewling and fussing for another feed. Yet Fitz had vanished. My wounded lion, who made no fuss of his injuries despite clearly being in considerable pain. Drowsily I rang the bell hanging from its red velvet rope as Marie appeared.“You are well Your Grace?” as she quickly helped hold Eleanor for me whilst I unfastened my gown. “Marie, you helped…” failing to utter his name. I had never discussed my true feelings for him with anyone. It was too terrifying to make someone aware of the glass, fragile core of my heart.“I did. Only once I must add,” she replied, smiling down at the gurgling baby in her arms. “I gave him the money from your bureau.”Of course. He had been robbed. He has nothing and my soul aches at remembering his wounded face. He had done his best to wipe the blood away but he could not hide the bruising under his eyes. He confessed he has not made his fortune, as if that would deter me
Although mid-July the wind whipped viciously outside. As I strode along the huge corridors towards his suite I could still see the trees swaying from the windows. The driveway torchilights were slowly flickering, by the time midnight approached only a few would be left to guide my way.I felt my heart seize as I approached Edmund’s doorway. So many times I had imagined this scenario. Sometimes Fitz was there holding my hand, promising to keep me safe. Other times I had imagined leaving without a single trace. After our honeymoon and realisation I was a prisoner within this grey stone tomb I had fantasised about fleeing in the night almost daily.Tonight it is finally time to discard my chrysalis. The gowns and fripperies that made me a Duchess are not my true colours. They are the trappings of a prisoner, albeit shinier and more ornate. The plain navy gown and cornflower blue day dress I wear are my true wings. These naturally fitting, comfortable garments will suit my life as I navig