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Authors: Diane Davis White
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gently upon her forehead, he hugged her close for a moment and then went to the door. "I don't know when I shall see you again. I am sorry that I have shamed you with this behavior, but I will no longer be a party to my father's scheme. For it is her soul that I would protect, not my own."
.
* * * * *
.
Hannah went through her day in a fog, not attending her lessons and cutting short her dressmaking activities. Claiming a headache, she withdrew to her chamber and lay upon the bed in a melancholy decline. At the Marquis insistence dinner was served in her room. A dinner that she left untouched, for her appetite had fled.
The Marquis, watching her closely, hoped this might be a sign of the early stages of pregnancy. Four pregnant wives he'd witnessed and knew it was not uncommon for a woman to fall into varying moods, melancholy being especially common, when she was increasing. He, therefore, was not troubled by her behavior and went on with his visit to David, as scheduled.
When he arrived at the cottage he was stunned to find David gone. His clothes, his pipe and his small cache of toiletries, all gone. The fine mount that he had given his son stood tethered in the makeshift stable, a bag of oats hung over its massive head.
Walking through the small house, he spied a vase on the table. Reaching out, he picked it up and was immediately assailed by memories so haunting that he nearly dropped the gay little hand painted object. The note that had been propped against it had fallen to the floor, and it was only luck that he spied it. With great effort, he leaned down and retrieved the paper and read it with trembling hands.
"Father, I am sorry that all of your wishes will not be borne... namely, the heir you so desire. I find I cannot continue here, and I will make my way in this world as best I can without your largesse. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, but if you cannot, I will understand.
Please... if you should find a way to tell her how sorry I am and how bereft at leaving this way. She cannot know the feelings I have for her; it would not be seemly. She does not know who I am, I promise you that, but I have grown to love her and I cannot allow this charade to continue, for it kills me to leave her each night, knowing that soon it will be forever. Let forever start now, the agony of waiting is done.
With fondness, your son, David
The Marquis of Darlington stood in that small room and allowed the tears to slip down his weathered face for the second time in his life. First Mary had left him here, alone and anchorless, so many years before and now their son had done so as well. After a while, he picked up the note and the vase, tucked them into his pocket and called for his aide, returning home with the mount tethered to the carriage.
He tried to decide how to tell Hannah that David was gone and finally realized that he could not. The girl would know soon enough. If she questioned him, he would simply say the fellow had changed his mind and gone on his way.
It would not be the best explanation, but it would be the truth. Mayhap she was already with child, for he had taken careful note of her monthly cycle, and he knew that she should have bled well over a week ago. In spite of the loss of his son, the old Marquis could not help but be hopeful. He may have an heir already growing in the girl's belly.
Chapter Six
~~
She waited through the night, and he never came. Tossing and turning, she could not find sleep, and her body, denied his intimacy, was trembling and aching more than ever before. Aching for that illusive something, that something that she would now never know.
The hollow emptiness in her womb was mirrored in her heart, where a immense fissure had been torn.
At dawn, Hannah arose from her bed and went to the window, drawing the drapes aside and looking out over the vast lawns. The ground was covered with a mist that arose from the gardens in
.
* * * * *
.
Hannah went through her day in a fog, not attending her lessons and cutting short her dressmaking activities. Claiming a headache, she withdrew to her chamber and lay upon the bed in a melancholy decline. At the Marquis insistence dinner was served in her room. A dinner that she left untouched, for her appetite had fled.
The Marquis, watching her closely, hoped this might be a sign of the early stages of pregnancy. Four pregnant wives he'd witnessed and knew it was not uncommon for a woman to fall into varying moods, melancholy being especially common, when she was increasing. He, therefore, was not troubled by her behavior and went on with his visit to David, as scheduled.
When he arrived at the cottage he was stunned to find David gone. His clothes, his pipe and his small cache of toiletries, all gone. The fine mount that he had given his son stood tethered in the makeshift stable, a bag of oats hung over its massive head.
Walking through the small house, he spied a vase on the table. Reaching out, he picked it up and was immediately assailed by memories so haunting that he nearly dropped the gay little hand painted object. The note that had been propped against it had fallen to the floor, and it was only luck that he spied it. With great effort, he leaned down and retrieved the paper and read it with trembling hands.
"Father, I am sorry that all of your wishes will not be borne... namely, the heir you so desire. I find I cannot continue here, and I will make my way in this world as best I can without your largesse. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, but if you cannot, I will understand.
Please... if you should find a way to tell her how sorry I am and how bereft at leaving this way. She cannot know the feelings I have for her; it would not be seemly. She does not know who I am, I promise you that, but I have grown to love her and I cannot allow this charade to continue, for it kills me to leave her each night, knowing that soon it will be forever. Let forever start now, the agony of waiting is done.
With fondness, your son, David
The Marquis of Darlington stood in that small room and allowed the tears to slip down his weathered face for the second time in his life. First Mary had left him here, alone and anchorless, so many years before and now their son had done so as well. After a while, he picked up the note and the vase, tucked them into his pocket and called for his aide, returning home with the mount tethered to the carriage.
He tried to decide how to tell Hannah that David was gone and finally realized that he could not. The girl would know soon enough. If she questioned him, he would simply say the fellow had changed his mind and gone on his way.
It would not be the best explanation, but it would be the truth. Mayhap she was already with child, for he had taken careful note of her monthly cycle, and he knew that she should have bled well over a week ago. In spite of the loss of his son, the old Marquis could not help but be hopeful. He may have an heir already growing in the girl's belly.
Chapter Six
~~
She waited through the night, and he never came. Tossing and turning, she could not find sleep, and her body, denied his intimacy, was trembling and aching more than ever before. Aching for that illusive something, that something that she would now never know.
The hollow emptiness in her womb was mirrored in her heart, where a immense fissure had been torn.
At dawn, Hannah arose from her bed and went to the window, drawing the drapes aside and looking out over the vast lawns. The ground was covered with a mist that arose from the gardens in
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