Chapter Eight

Rebecca awoke with a sour stomach and a pounding head. She saw Nora hovering over her and realized she had fallen asleep in the lavender gown. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven, m’lady. Lady Elizabeth asked me to wake you.”

Rebecca sat up, groaning at the assorted aches and pains accrued from a night of sleeping in an awkward position. “Why?”

“The modiste arrives at one.”

She groaned. “Not another round of fittings?”

Nora shrugged. “Your sister did not say.”

With a groan, Rebecca slid from the bed. A wave of nausea caught her by surprise. “I—”

Nora pushed her gently on the bed and set a tray of tea and toast beside her. “The cook tells me this helped Lady Elizabeth early in her condition.”

Rebecca shook her head, accepting the cup of weak tea automatically. “I do not understand.”

Nora’s gaze dropped to the floor, and her face colored. “When your sister had morning sickness, weak tea and toast helped her.”

Her brow furrowed. “Morning sickness?”

Her voice lowered to a whisper. “It happens to many women early in their pregnancies.”

She blinked and burst into laughter. “That is impossible. I am not with child.”

“M’lady—”

“He told me he would ensure I did not have a baby.”

Nora shrugged. “I do not know much about such matters, but I do not think there is a way that always works to prevent babies.”

Rebecca shook her head. “It cannot be. You are mistaken, Nora.”

“When did you last have your monthly, m’lady?” Nora’s face was bright red. “Oh, that your mother was here for this,” she whispered.

“Well, I—” She frowned, counting backwards. Rebecca flinched when she realized it had been more than a month.

Nora sat on the bed beside her, grasping her hand. “You must take a husband immediately.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I will not be used, nor will I use someone and foist my child on them.”

“Think of your child. Do you want to raise a bastard?” She said the last word so low that it was more of a breath than a sound.

Rebecca crumpled against her former nanny. “How did this happen?” She buried her face against Nora’s chest, trying to stifle sobs. What would she do? It was intolerable to take a husband she didn’t love, but she loved no one. It wasn’t love she felt for Christoph—Alex. And for all she knew, he had a wife. What had she done?