And then her stomach began to thrust itself upwards. “No,” she cried out as she grabbed the pot and lurched over it. The acrid taste of sickness came up through her mouth and she winced.
The duke tried to make certain that her hair was away from her face, and as soon as the coach stopped in front of the great house, the door flew open.
And of course, the vast line of waiting servants spotted her.
It was the most terrible way to meet her new staff.
She could barely even make sense of the fact that they were all there. The duke let out a soft curse at the efficiency of his footman.
The butler, Everson, had already made his way north quite quickly and whipped everyone into shape, no doubt.
Everson, who was several feet back, said nothing. For, he already knew the state of affairs and, doubtlessly, he had discreetly prepared the staff too.
The whispers would be impossible to avoid. She was behaving as a pregnant young lady did. She knew that, and she appreciated Everson for taking care of such things.
Still, she knew how servants could be. They might think her an absolute harlot. And she was, even if she had been born to a great family, though she had only been a harlot with him.
Could one be a harlot with one person?
She really didn’t know.
She would have to make inquiries.
Oh, she wouldn’t. But perhaps she’d playfully ask him for education on the matter.
Surely, the duke would find it amusing if she did so. And she wanted to amuse him, to make him laugh, to be interesting to him. She didn’t want to be relegated to the shadows of his life. Now that she was to be his duchess, the mother of his child, she was aware that such a thing could happen. She’d seen it happen in the great families, young ladies who sparkled and shone in the Season suddenly became uninteresting and boring to the men around them and certainly to their husbands, who did not even bother to ask them to dance.
Would he ever ask her to dance again?
She did not know.
He had not kissed her since the morning he’d agreed to marry her, except for gentle kisses atop her hand or head.
They had abstained from any sort of intimacy the entire coach ride north. But she could not blame him.
Who would want to kiss the woman who was throwing up every other moment? She did not even want to be touched, except to have her back stroked or her hair taken from her face.
The pure vexatious state of her own fears surely had to be based on her infuriatingly emotional state!
Everson strode up towards the coach. “Greetings, Your Grace. And greetings, Lady Catherine. We are very grateful that you have arrived safely. We have a room prepared for you, Lady Catherine, but perhaps you would like to have a walk in the gardens before you go up and lie down.”
She only let out a moan in response.
The duke said, “That’s a very good idea, Everson. Thank you. And then perhaps you can have a light bowl of hot salted broth prepared for her and some bread. Cook’s finest.”
She groaned.
“You will try to eat it, Catherine, please,” he said gently.
“I shan’t be bossed about.”
“I’m a duke, it’s what I do best,” he teased.
She gave him a look so dark that half the servants gasped. He laughed. “It’s good to see your spirit’s back, Catherine.”
He swept her up into his arms, much to her shock, and he carried her out of the coach.
“Put me down,” she protested quietly. “I don’t want them to think that I’m not capable.”