Midnight Angel (Stokehurst #1)(20)

Nan looked at her with hot, swollen eyes. “Why did you come?” she croaked.

“It doesn't seem right that you should be alone.”

“You know about…everything?” Nan gestured to her stomach.

Tasia nodded. “You mustn't take anything else, Nan—no pills or tonics. You could do harm to the baby.”

“That was the idea. I thought about throwing myself down the stairs, jumping from a loft in the barn…anything to stop it from coming.” Nan shuddered. “Please stay for a little while. I won't die if you stay.”

“Of course you won't die,” Tasia soothed, stroking her hair. “Everything's going to be all right.”

Nan began to cry. “You're like an angel,” she whispered miserably. “How do you make your face so gentle? Just like your little wooden picture. I took it, you know.”

Tasia shushed her gently. “It doesn't matter.”

“I thought it would make me peaceful, like you. But it's done nothing for me.”

“It's all right. Don't cry.”

Nan clutched Tasia's skirts as if it were her last confession. “I don't want to live. Johnny doesn't want me. He says it's all my fault, not his. I'll be dismissed. My family's poor. They won't want me to come back, and with a bastard babe yet. But I'm not a bad girl, Miss Billings. I had to be with him. I love him.”

“I understand. Don't tire yourself, Nan. You must rest.”

“Why?” Nan asked bitterly, dropping her head back on the pillow.

“You're going to need your strength.”

“I've got no money, no work, no husband—”

“You'll have some money. Lord Stokehurst will see to that.”

“He doesn't owe me a shilling.”

“It will be all right,” Tasia said firmly. “I promise.” She smiled reassuringly and stood up. “I'm going to have some fresh linens brought up. Your bed wants changing. I'll be back in just a few minutes.”

“All right,” Nan whispered.

Leaving the room, Tasia went to find Mrs. Knaggs. The housekeeper was giving instructions to a kitchen maid, who was clearing the dishes from the servants' table.

“You went to Nan,” Mrs. Knaggs said as soon as she saw Tasia's face. “I rather thought you might.”

“She's very ill,” Tasia said gravely.

“There's no point in doing anything for her. She'll be gone soon.”

Tasia was surprised by the housekeeper's callousness. “Ma'am, I don't see the harm in trying to make her more comfortable. Couldn't you direct one of the maids to help me carry a few supplies upstairs and change the bed?”

Mrs. Knaggs shook her head. “I've told the others they need have nothing to do with her.”

“She's not a leper, Mrs. Knaggs. She's only pregnant.”

“I don't want any of the girls to be exposed to the influence of promiscuity and immorality.”

Tasia was tempted to answer sarcastically, but she bit her tongue to hold back the words. “Mrs. Knaggs,” she said carefully, “isn't it the second great commandment to love thy neighbor as thyself? And when the Pharisees brought the adulteress to our Lord and asked Him if she should be stoned, didn't He say—”

“Yes, I know. ‘He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone.’ I daresay I'm as well-acquainted with the Bible as most people.”

“Then surely you know the verse, ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy’—”

“You are quite right, Miss Billings,” the housekeeper interrupted hastily, apparently sensing that a sermon was approaching. “I'll have one of the maids bring up bed linens and fresh water right away.”

Tasia smiled. “Thank you, ma'am. There's one more thing…Do you happen to know if Lord Stokehurst will be returning tonight?”

“He'll be in London for the evening.” Mrs. Knaggs looked at her meaningfully. “You understand.”

“Yes, I do.” The irony was not lost on Tasia. A man's philandering was winked at, accepted, even encouraged. Lord Stokehurst was free to have his pleasure. Even Johnny the footman wasn't being held responsible for the baby. Only Nan was paying the price.

Mrs. Knaggs stared at her speculatively. “Is there something you wish to speak to the master about, Miss Billings?”

“It can wait until morning.”

“I'm certain you can't mean to speak to him about Nan's situation. The master has already made his decision on how it should be handled. No one ever questions his orders. Surely you wouldn't be foolish enough to displease him by bringing up the subject.”

“Of course not,” Tasia said. “Thank you, Mrs. Knaggs.”

Returning too late to go on his usual morning ride with Emma, Luke closed himself in the library to attend to some work. Managing his three estates and other properties required an endless stream of correspondence with land agents, stewards, and lawyers. Between writing letters, he pored over account books and piles of receipts. The tedious atmosphere was underscored by the ticking of the mantel clock. In his concentration he hardly noticed the knock at the door. It came again, louder this time.