Lord Phillip's Folly Read online

  “I would hate for you to miss out on something you enjoy.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Enjoy? Perhaps if Josie were there to play her violin or the pianoforte, but most of the performers are either overpaid opera stars or the daughters of the ton who possess little skill or wit to recommend them. As if hearing a woman screech will bring the suitors out of their hiding places? No. It is more a place to see and be seen than to attend for pure enjoyment.”

  “It sounds torturous.”

  “When professional musicians and singers are performing, it can be enjoyable, but tonight is not of that same caliber. It will not pain me to miss it, especially if I cannot have you on my arm and by my side.”

  “Thank you, Phillip.”

  “I still long for a bath. Shall I have dinner served here in our room?”

  Beth grinned. “I would like that.”

  “I shall arrange it all. Rest.” He rose, called for his valet, and made arrangements.

  Beth listened to him speak with his servant as water was brought up. She yawned. A sharp pain in her stomach startled her. She rose and climbed into bed, kicking off her slippers and rested on her side. The pain left. Perhaps she really had been too busy lately.

  ~*~

  Phillip finished bathing and came to the bedroom to discover his wife asleep. Food had been brought in and candles lit. He built up the fire and poured himself a glass of wine. He walked over to the bed and sat, tracing his wife’s jaw with his finger. She didn’t respond.

  “Beth?”

  Her chest rose and fell. He pulled the blanket up over her and resigned himself to dining alone. He grabbed the Bible Marcus had given him and spent some time reading. Joshua had walked around the walls of Jericho day after day. Somehow Phillip felt like that was exactly what he was doing staying in town, waiting for something to fall. For Wolton to strike or show his hand. But maybe the real courage was in heading home for Stanton Hall. Perhaps the battle was the Lord’s and had been taken care of for them. Lord, please guide me and help me know what is best for Beth and our child. I, too, long for Stanton Hall and the life we could live there. Is it time to go home?

  After he’d eaten he blew out the candles and climbed into bed to hold his wife as she slept. Somehow God would show them the next steps they should take.

  ~*~

  Beth awoke the next morning to find Phillip had already left. It was later than she was used to rising. She rang for Elsa to bring her some chocolate.

  “Would you like me to bring you food?”

  “I’m not hungry.” Beth frowned as she rose. Something wasn’t right. She began to prepare for the day but the brush got caught in her tangles.

  “Here, let me help you,” Elsa offered, coming back with her drink.

  Beth almost threw the brush at the maid. Instead, she slammed it down on the table. “Please do. I’m ready to cut it all off.”

  “Oh, your hair is so pretty. You would not want to do that.”

  “I’ll do what I want,” Beth groused.

  Elsa silently began to work the tangles loose. That’s what came of falling asleep without taking her pins out and braiding her hair. Phillip preferred it loose, but then he would be the one to sometimes brush through the tangles. There was something sweet about him doing that for her. She suspected he preferred it when she shaved him too instead of his valet or himself. She’d been missing him in the mornings.

  “Is my husband home?”

  “He left a short time ago with Sir Tidley.”

  Beth’s shoulders slumped.

  “How would you like your hair today?” Else asked.

  “A simple braid down the back. I don’t plan to leave my room.”

  “Ma’am? Are you unwell?”

  “I don’t think so. Just tired.”

  “I’ll let Masters know you are not home to visitors again.”

  “Thank you, Elsa.”

  The maid left and Beth rose to sit by the fire and sip her chocolate. Sharp pain cut deep and she stumbled back to the bed, the drink forgotten. She crawled under the cover and rested on her side as the pain subsided. She sucked in a breath and placed her hand on her stomach. It moved. The baby had to be well. She couldn’t let anything happen to their child. Pain rippled through her as she struggled to breathe. Tears fell to her pillow and as the pain subsided she closed her eyes to rest.

  Mid-afternoon sharp pain ripped through her again. She rose to relieve herself and discovered blood everywhere. She began to sweat and grew dizzy. She tugged the chord for Elsa and collapsed into bed.

  The maid arrived in the room within minutes. “You rang.”

  “Elsa, I think I’m losing the baby. Please send for the doctor and send someone to find Phillip.”

  “Aye, Mrs. Westcombe.” The maid scampered out the door and soon the housekeeper, a kindly older woman, Mrs. Wilson, was there beside her.

  “Let’s get you more comfortable my dear.” The older woman helped her change and placed a cool wet compress on her forehead. The pain stabbed through her periodically.

  “Send for Mrs. Remington, please.”

  Josie was the closest person she had as a friend.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The housekeeper left to send a message and returned.

  Beth tried to rest even as fear spiraled out of control within. She groaned.

  “Just rest, ma’am.”

  Josie burst into the room a short time later. “Mrs. Wilson, I’ll sit with her while you see to why the doctor has not yet arrived, nor her husband.” Josie cleared out the room and came to sit by Beth’s side on the bed. “You are in pain?”

  “I’m afraid I’m losing the baby.”

  Josie blanched as her hand caressed the evidence of her own imminent arrival. She’d only just entered her confinement and would soon be departing for Rose Hill to wait out the rest of her pregnancy there.

  “Pray for me please, Josie. I’m scared.”

  “Of course.” Josie bent her head as she held Beth’s hands in her own. “Heavenly Father, You are the creator of life and the beginning and the end are in Your hands. You have sustained Phillip and Beth through some difficult times and You know how their love has grown for each other and for You. I ask that You would spare their child and give healing to Beth. Ease her pain and fear. And if we don’t get what we want Lord, help us to trust You for the future and not lose hope in Your love and goodness to us even when we cannot understand the pain we suffer. We love You, Jesus.”

  Beth sighed and closed her eyes. “Thank you, Josie.”

  The hours passed.

  The doctor finally arrived, evicted everyone else from the room and examined her. “Mrs. Westcombe. I’m sorry, but it seems you are losing the baby.” He gave instructions for the staff and left.

  Josie frowned. “He can’t be bothered to stay with you?”

  “What more can he do? You need to go home yourself and rest and care for your own baby. Please continue to pray.”

  “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

  “I have Elsa and Mrs. Wilson. Hopefully, Phillip will arrive soon.” Beth had lost energy and refused the broth Elsa had brought for her. “I just want to sleep.”

  Josie stood. “I’m sorry this is happening, Beth.”

  “I am too.”

  “I’ll return tomorrow morning.”

  “Thank you, Josie.”

  The room sank into darkness with the exception of the fireplace. The drapes were drawn and Beth fell into an uneasy sleep.

  ~*~

  Phillip groaned. “I’ve been gone all day, Michael. We’ve chased one lead after another and we lack any credible information about Wolton. I really should get home.”

  Michael led Phillip into a pub. “First, let’s eat. I’m famished. I’m sorry none of my leads have netted any potential information.”

  They acquired a table and sat with a glass of the beer brewed locally.

  Phillip sipped it and grimaced. “I prefer wine.”

  “Or brandy, I suspe
ct.”

  Phillip shrugged. “Hard to get the best stuff with the war on.”

  “I’m sorry I took you on a wild-goose chase. Neville gave me leads I thought sounded worthwhile, but some of these areas are not as safe to travel in. Safety in numbers, and all that.”

  “I’m sure you could have handled it fine, but I am grateful for the occupation. Sitting and waiting has grown old.”

  “Maybe the threat is gone?”

  “Perhaps, but I fear that letting our guard down is exactly what he is waiting for.”

  “So, what now?”

  “Beth wants to leave London and travel to Stanton Hall. I long to go home, too. She’s tired of all the at-homes and balls. There is much work to be done at the hall to prepare for our child. She will likely want to do some redecorating. There will be plenty to keep her busy along with meeting the neighbors and getting to know our tenants.”

  “Sounds like the perfect place for you.” Michael paid the waitress right away as she bought the food.

  “My own slice of heaven on earth.”

  “Do your parents understand you’re not the wastrel and rake they thought you were?”

  “I never descended to the depths of depravity as some do. Hard to do with a friend like Marcus. I wasn’t as afraid of my parents finding out as I was of him.”

  “I think he always knew exactly what we were up to.”

  “Perhaps, but he never mentioned it or shamed us.”

  “He told me once that it didn’t matter what he thought. He couldn’t expect us to live up to a standard set by a God we didn’t believe in. He still cared about us as his friends.”

  “Sometimes I think he was always a better friend to any of us than we were to him. I often wondered why he hung around us.”

  Michael shrugged. “I don’t know either. You are a second son, I’m baseborn, Theodore is alone in the world. Perhaps we all just needed each other.”

  “But Marcus? We might have needed him but why did he need us?”

  “Perhaps some things are better to not question. We were there for him when his parents died and Jared went off to war.”

  “You were around for Henrietta’s wedding too, right?”

  “Yes. Only because it happened quickly, otherwise you would have been invited.”

  “Lord Percy is a good chap. Marcus was relieved to have her off his hands.” Phillip grinned.

  “If you have a daughter, that might be you some day.”

  Phillip sighed. “I still can’t believe I’m going to be a father. I never thought I wanted a family and now I can’t hardly wait until Stanton Hall is filled with the laughter of children.”

  “I believe they do a lot of crying before they ever laugh.”

  “Someday, Michael—you might find love has some surprises in store for you as well.”

  “Good thing I like you and your lovely bride too much to make her a widow so soon,” Michael growled.

  They finished the meal and Phillip left to call a carriage. “Sure you don’t want a ride?”

  “No. It’s a nice evening for a walk. Never know what news I might uncover.”

  “Be careful, Michael.”

  “I always am. You, as well. Give my regards to Beth.”

  Phillip nodded and then closed the door, tapping the roof for the hackney to take him home. It had grown later than he expected and he hoped Elizabeth wasn’t worried about him or missing him too terribly. Guilt assailed him. He should have been taking her to see parts of town she’d never experienced before instead of traipsing around with Michael or fighting Theo at Gentleman Jackson’s or practicing his fencing with Marcus. Although he’d also been investigating Wolton to no avail. It was time to quit and prepare to go home.

  The carriage pulled up to the house.

  He paid the fare and strode up the steps. The door flung open.

  “My lord. We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” The door shut behind him.

  Phillip’s heart raced at the alarm his normally placid butler showed. “What’s amiss, Masters?”

  “Your wife—”

  “Beth? Is she well?”

  Masters shook his head.

  Phillip was already running up the stairs two steps at a time until he came to the master suite. He opened the door to a darkened room.

  Mrs. Wilson stepped forward, biting her lip.

  “At last you’ve arrived, m’lord.” Censure colored her words.

  “What happened?” He moved to step further in the room but she blocked him.

  Her voice was soft. “She lost the baby. She’s been in terrible pain and crying out for you, m’lord. Mrs. Remington was here for some time.”

  “The doctor?”

  “Came and left. Said nothing could be done to stop nature.”

  “The baby?”

  “Dead.”

  “What was it?” he asked in a whisper.

  “A son.” The housekeeper touched his arm and bent her head. “I’m sorry, m’lord. Go to her now. She needs you. Ring if you need anything.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson.” The door shut behind him and he wandered over to the bed. His wife was pale as she rested on the pillows. Sallow cheeks were stained with tears. He’d been out fighting a useless battle when she’d been here all alone, needing him. He sat and removed his clothes quickly, stoked the fire and climbed into bed to hold her tight.

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Beth. Please forgive me.”

  “Phillip?” She stirred and placed a hand on his chest. “You came.” Tears fell fresh as she leaned into him. His own joined hers.

  ~*~

  The doctor had finished and spoke with Phillip in the hallway. “It’s over, but she’ll need time to recover the loss, physically and emotionally.”

  “Will she—”

  “As far as I can tell she should be able to conceive again at some point. I wouldn’t rush it. Healing takes time.”

  Phillip gulped. “Why did the baby die?”

  The doctor shrugged. “We rarely know in cases like this.”

  Phillip could only nod. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “You’re welcome. Give her time. She’ll be fine.” He patted Phillip’s arm and departed.

  Phillip returned to the bedroom where his wife sat up in bed. He hurried over to her and held her hand. What could he say to ease her pain or make sense of his own loss?

  “I’m sorry, Phillip.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She sighed.

  “I was thinking that perhaps in a week or so, whenever you are feeling well enough, we could travel home to Stanton Hall.”

  She gave him a wan smile. “I’d like that.”

  Phillip leaned forward and kissed her. She returned the kiss but not with the enthusiasm of the past. Fool, she just lost a child. She’s won’t want to kiss or be touched. He backed away. “Rest, dear. I’ll be here.” He helped her settle into the covers and sat on a chair near the bed to pray as she slept.

  He picked up the Bible. Where was his courage now? Abraham was told to sacrifice his son, but at least he was given a choice. God took their baby without a reason or an alternative. It wasn’t fair.

  But life wasn’t fair so why did God need to be? Ridiculous notion. God was God and could do as he pleased. Phillip remembered hearing about Job and how he’d lost all his children, his land, his businesses…and how the man continued to bless and praise God. Phillip was so new in understanding all this. But God pointed out in that book that Job didn’t have the right to question God. Well, he could ask the questions but God wasn’t obligated to answer. And in the end, God blessed him many times more. But that was an historical event. Not a promise for Beth and himself.

  God gave them a child. God took the child away. If Job’s story was an example, Phillip should be able to say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord.” He could make his lips move to say the words, but did he believe them in his heart? He wasn’t so sure. God, forgive me. I’ve failed You.

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  Darkness descended over Beth’s soul. Even though the fireplace always held a blaze and the windows were open to let in the sun, a dark shadow covered everything. She had failed. She’d never dreamed of being married or having children but now that she’d lost the baby, all she could think about was her failure. Surely Phillip would despise her now. What good was she for? She’d only brought trouble to his life. He’d been so gentle with her. Almost tiptoeing around her, avoiding the subject.

  She moaned and rolled over but he was gone this morning. He mentioned traveling to Stanton Hall when she had recovered enough to make the trip.

  Elsa bustled into the room. “I have your chocolate, ma’am. Are you ready for me to help you dress? How about the blue gown today?”

  Blue. Suited her mood. Too bad she didn’t own black or grey. “That’ll be fine, Elsa. Am I to receive visitors today? Or expected somewhere that I need to rise and dress?”

  “Lady Remington is planning to visit you later this morning. Remember? She sent a note to you yesterday with the beautiful flowers.”

  Ah, yes. The white roses. The sweet note of condolence for their loss.

  Beth sighed, rose from the bed, and began her morning ablutions, allowing Elsa to assist her with everything. Dressed and sitting in front of the mirror to have her hair arranged she looked at herself critically. Green eyes were dull and dark circles hung below them. Her complexion was pale. She told herself to smile but her mouth refused to respond. There was no reason for joy or happiness. She closed her eyes rather than look at herself while her maid arranged her hair.

  “There, ma’am. Pretty as a picture,” Elsa said as she stepped back.

  “You did a fine job.” Beth couldn’t find more to praise and she didn’t open her eyes again until she’d faced away from the reflection of grief that taunted her. She rose and left the room, taking the steps slowly to the drawing room.

  The butler stopped her before she entered. “Will you not break your fast? Lord Westcombe awaits you in the breakfast parlour.”

  “I’m not hungry. Thank you, Masters.” She pushed past him and entered the drawing room. A low flame was in the fireplace but she added kindling to bring it to a full roaring fire. She sat in a chair further away, wreathed in shadows. The drapes had not been pulled back and the room was dark. It suited her mood.