The Price of Innocence (The Legacy Series) (30 page)

Like any young girl in love, Suzette cried a bucketful of tears the day she gave him her last embrace, wondering if she would ever see him again. He kissed her and spoke words of a promised return. Now, as she stood considering his stature, she saw in him a new manhood he had not exhibited before. Life’s experiences had changed them both.

Philippe caught sight of Suzette, and she smiled and began walking in his direction. She saw his hands nervously clenching his gloves. Philippe took off his hat, tipped it, and spoke in French his words of greeting.

“Suzette, I am so glad you accepted my invitation.”

“I am, too, Philippe. It is a beautiful day, and the fresh air will do us both good.”

She spoke in her native tongue with Philippe as they strolled through the park. She missed France, but never revealed her homesick feelings to Robert.

Philippe returned his hat to his head and held out his arm for Suzette. She hesitated for a moment at the thought of touching him, but then relented and wrapped her arm around his. She glanced up at his strong, tall figure and smiled at the pleasure etched across his face.

Philippe drew her close to his side as they strolled along the path lined with oak trees. Large branches hung overhead, creating a canopy. The air was crisp, and the trees had begun to turn their leaves to a golden hue.

“How have you been, Suzette, since we last met?”

Suzette hesitated as she formulated a response that wouldn’t hurt her escort. When she took too long to answer, Philippe did for her.

“You miss him, I see.” His voice was tender, without an accusatory or angry tone.

“Yes, I do.”

“Has he written to you?”

“Not yet, but I surmise he is busy with matters.”
Matters
. Suzette could only wonder what matters. Again, the silence came between them. She felt a slight tug of Philippe’s arm, bringing her closer to his side as if to support her in sadness.

“You know, Suzette, I miss your dear father. When I think of his sudden death during my absence, it breaks my heart. I should have been there to comfort and care for you.” His voice shook with emotion. “After what you told me, I feel partially responsible for being absent. I could have saved you such heartache had I just returned.”

“You couldn’t have known this would happen, no more than I. You were where you should have been, Philippe. Please, don’t blame yourself. Besides, even if I had written to you, it would have been months before you would have received my letter, let alone return. Matters would have continued to play out even as they had during your absence.”

In a moment of silence, they each reminisced over years past. Suzette remembered the laughs over dinner when the three of them dined and her father’s odd sense of humor that always threw Philippe into a roar. With each step, Suzette felt more at ease along his side, as if they were old friends remembering fond times together. She turned and looked up at his pensive face but dared not ask for his thoughts.

As they passed an obliging empty bench under a shaded tree, Philippe directed their steps toward the waiting seat. “Come, let’s sit a while.” He released her arm and let her sit first. Suzette caught a glimpse of the longing in his eyes.

“Can we talk, Suzette?” he asked reluctantly. “About your life, I mean.”

“What do you mean, about my life?” She knew what he meant. Suzette suddenly wished to jump from the bench and run down the pathway away from the words she did not want to hear.

“You don’t need to live this way any longer, Suzette. I’m back now. I can take care of you. We can marry like we planned, and you don’t have to . . . well, you don’t have to give yourself to a man to support yourself.”

Suzette swallowed the lump in her throat. Her gaze avoided his and fixated upon a nearly small boxwood hedge.

“Talk to me, Suzette, please.”

She looked into his pleading eyes to defend her actions and tell him what she truly felt. In one breath, she flung her answer.

“I do not stay with Robert just because he provides for me. I stay with him because I love him.” The words were a welcome relief as she spun her head to the side, flipping an annoying lock of hair tickling her cheek.

“He’s married now Suzette. He cannot marry you, so why do you stay? Do you want to be his mistress for the rest of your life? Is that enough for you? That is all that will ever come of it—until he grows tired of you or finds someone else to play the part.”

“What do you mean, he’s married?” The color drained from Suzette’s face as her heart stopped for a brief moment.

Philippe reached over and grabbed her hand. “You haven’t heard then, have you?”

“Heard what?” The pounding in her chest increased.

He pulled the news clipping from his pocket and handed her the
London
Gazette
article. She grasped the paper and read the heartbreaking words.

Marriage Announcements – On October 22, 1878, Lord Robert Holland, married Lady Jacquelyn Marie Spencer in a lavish ceremony held at St. John’s Cathedral . . .

Suzette dropped the news clipping unable to read the remainder. A gust of wind grabbed the paper and twirled it among circling leaves sending it down the pathway out of sight. Philippe’s hand tightened his grasp. Suzette couldn’t breathe. She felt numb as if life had drained from her body.

“I’m sorry, Suzette. I wanted to tell you last week but didn’t have the heart. It’s obvious you are in love with the man, but he’s deceived and used you. He only intends to keep you as his mistress. Don’t you see that now?”

Suzette sat silent.

“If he loved you, he would release you to a life of decency instead of using you as his kept woman for sexual pleasure.”

Suzette knew he was right, but she couldn’t acknowledge the painful truth, even to herself. “I’m afraid I’m suddenly tired, Philippe. I need to leave.” She thrust her hand from his and stood to her feet. Her mind swirled like the wind around her body, and inwardly her soul screamed in pain.

“Suzette, please.”

She ignored his plea and began walking down the pathway toward the waiting carriage. Suzette heard the sound of his boots behind her on the paved walkway as he tried to catch up. Philippe’s hand grabbed her shoulder, and Suzette wiggled from his grasp in exasperation.

“Let me go!” she demanded. In anger, she spun around with the intent of slapping his face, but the world around her began to spin. Everything shifted in her vision, and her knees buckled from weakness. As she stumbled backwards into a fall, Philippe caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.

“Dear Lord, Suzette, are you all right?” He held her strongly, yet tenderly.

“I’m dizzy,” she gasped, surprised.

Philippe lifted her up in his arms and carried her back to the bench, slowly lowering her down upon the seat.

“Sit down for a moment. I insist,” he ordered, his voice filled with concern. He sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder for support. Suzette instinctively laid her head against his chest, waiting for the twirling sensation to leave.

He touched the side of her face, stroking her tenderly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered apologetically. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you. Forgive me. I only wanted you to know the truth.”

“Forgive me,” Suzette responded with shallow breathing. “I haven’t been well lately. I overreacted.”

“What do you mean, you haven’t been well, Suzette? Have you seen a physician?”

She shook her head no, suppressing the suspicion she now held for weeks. Her menses were late, and she feared pregnancy.

“I will be all right, I promise.” Suzette refused to mention the possibility. Within a few minutes, her head cleared, and the world around her stabilized. “I’m feeling better now. I really should go home.”

“Well, I insist on walking you to the carriage.”

Suzette didn’t argue. He stood up and held out his hand for her to take. Finally, looking up into his concerned and loving face, she felt peace in the reflection of his warm brown eyes. He tenderly grasped her hand, and she clutched his tightly as they walked to the waiting carriage. As she felt his strength, a part of her longed to tell him what she feared but could not. It would be devastating to reveal to Philippe that she could possibly be pregnant with Robert’s child. No, it had to be kept a secret until she was sure of it.

* * *

A week later, Suzette was convinced she carried a child in her womb. The nausea was unbearable and the fatigue difficult to manage. In addition, her emotions ran wild, from the fear and apprehension of being pregnant to overwhelming joy at the possibility. At times, she would place her hand upon her stomach and laugh at what awaited her, and then at other times she felt tearful and terribly alone. There had been no word from Robert, nor did Philippe contact her after their last walk in the park.

Madame LeBlanc quickly noticed Suzette’s physical distress and appearance, but said nothing until one particular morning of upheaval when she vomited uncontrollably over the side of her bed. After hearing her moans, her servant knocked on the door only to be greeted by Suzette’s denial.

“I’m fine. Go away and leave me alone!”

“Ridiculous,” she blurted out, as she flung open the door and went to her side with a basin in hand. She held Suzette until she heaved again and emptied the contents of her stomach. After she finished, she rose and grabbed a towel from the washroom, moistened it, and brought it back to her mistress, wiping away the residue from her lips.

“How far?” she asked, dabbing her mouth.

“What?”

“How far along are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Suzette breathed in anger, denying the accusations that she knew to be true.

“You’re pregnant. I can tell a pregnant woman when I see one, Mademoiselle.” Madame LeBlanc placed both hands on her hips and defiantly glared at Suzette.

Suzette relented. “About six weeks, I think.” Tears streamed down her face. Up until this time, she had kept a wary distance from Madame LeBlanc, but now she felt an overwhelming need for a woman’s help and guidance.

“What happens to women like me when they become pregnant?” Her voice shook, afraid of the answer.

“We can talk about that later,” Madame LeBlanc said with a tone of sympathy in her voice. “Go wash, put on a robe, and I’ll make some peppermint tea to settle your stomach.”

Suzette wandered off to the bath chamber. She stood in front of the mirror looking pale and sickly. After a few splashes of cold water on her face from the basin, she patted herself dry with a towel, and then ran a brush through her tangled hair. A quick swish of water in her mouth helped rid the putrid taste of vomit.

Wrapped in a warm bathrobe, she climbed downstairs. Upon entering, she sat down at a small table in the kitchen. Madame LeBlanc handed her the steaming cup of brewed tea. The smell of peppermint brought a fresh wave of nausea, but Suzette knew its contents would ease her ills once she drank it.

“I don’t know what to do.” The words fell from Suzette’s lips.

“You will have to tell Lord Holland, of course,” Madame LeBlanc counseled. “How he will handle the news is another matter.”

She lifted her eyes toward her maid. Suzette felt very ignorant. “What do men do when their mistresses become pregnant?”

“Well, as a rule, if we were on French soil, most courtesans who serve aristocratic men would not keep the child. When the baby is born, it would be given up for adoption or provided for by the benefactor to grow up in someone else’s care. Men in high positions cannot have illegitimate children claiming title to their money or name, so as a rule, they are spirited away.”

Suzette gasped. “You cannot be serious!”

“Oh, quite.” She hesitated to mention the other alternative. “He might refer you to an unscrupulous physician, who would attempt to abort the child. I would not recommend such a course of action, though, because your life could be in danger from the procedure.”

“I would never do such a thing!” Suzette protested vehemently.

“Of course, you could keep your child by relinquishing your position as mistress with Lord Holland and raise the baby yourself. I dare say there will be no means for you to take care of it, though, will there? Not unless he cares for the bastard child by giving you money.”

Suzette put down the teacup as tears spilled down her cheeks. The thought of giving away the child that she and Robert created together was out of the question.
Surely, he wouldn’t insist on such an arrangement or dare suggest the other alternative
.
He can’t possibly be so cruel
, she thought to herself
.

“I see the distress upon your face, Mademoiselle, but it is the way of things.” Madame LeBlanc stood silently for a few moments, pondering Suzette. “When is Lord Holland due back?” she asked inquisitively. “He’ll need to be told immediately upon his return.”

“Soon, I think.” Suzette paused before continuing, “He’s probably on his honeymoon.” The confession that he had recently married was difficult for Suzette to admit, even now.

Madame LeBlanc showed no surprise over the announcement of Lord Holland’s marriage. “Well, you’ll need to tell him. Before you know it, your belly will start looking like a melon, and there’ll be no hiding it, now will there?”

Suzette knew she was right. There would be no hiding it from anyone, including Philippe. What would he think? Certainly, he would abandon any thought of reconciliation now that she carried Robert’s child. They had tried to be careful, and Robert wore some type of new sheath that was supposed to protect her from pregnancy.

After finishing her tea, Suzette retreated to her room to ponder her quandary. She was trapped, and it was her own fault. Afraid neither would want her, she retreated into her fears of homelessness once again. She could never give up her child. She buried her head in her pillow and sobbed until she fell asleep from exhaustion.

* * *

Another week passed, and Suzette was now used to the morning nausea and prepared with a bucket by her bedside to catch its morning contents.