Page 49 of Six Nights to Marry a Marquess

“Are you certain you’re all right, My Lady?” A worried Evans asked Agnes when she returned to the room after Theodore’s exit, her eyes filled with concern.

“I agree with his lordship. I think seeing the doctor wouldn’t be too bad,” she added gently, hoping to coax her mistress into reconsidering.

Itcouldhave been, Agnes thought to herself, her mind swirling with the turmoil of last night’s realizations. After parting with Theodore, she had come to understand the full extent of what her life in this marriage might entail.

She’d felt miserable and empty, emotions that had overwhelmed her, leading to a night spent in silent tears. This was not the life she had envisioned or planned for herself. A part of her had even avoided the physician for fear that her emotional state would be too obvious, her tears too telling.

She met Evans’s concerned gaze, wondering if the lady’s maid had overheard her sobs throughout the night. After all, Evans had mentioned hearing sounds, which now added to Agnes’s embarrassment.

“I do not need a doctor, Evans,” Agnes stated firmly, trying to project a confidence she did not fully feel. “I will be alright,” she reassured, her voice steady but her heart uncertain.

Evans regarded her with a mix of skepticism and compassion. After a moment of silence, she finally, tentatively asked, “Is there something bothering you, My Lady?”

Agnes contemplated what answer to give her. Knowing Evans's relentless nature, she had a feeling this conversation wouldn't be easily deflected. Yet, she wasn't ready to divulge everything just yet.

"Life is never without its challenges, is it, Evans?" Agnes responded, choosing her words carefully, aiming to steer the conversation away from her personal turmoil.

"Oh, life is riddled with those, My Lady," the girl agreed earnestly. "But that is why we have each other. To share the good times and the bad ones. Especially the bad ones," she added, her eyes expectant, clearly hoping for a deeper confession.

"Well, in that case, doctors are hardly the suitable candidates to share those times with," Agnes replied with a wan chuckle, trying to maintain a light tone despite the heaviness settling in her chest.

"I am not a doctor. So you can share them with me," Evans persisted, her tone gentle yet insistent, as if she could coax the truth out with her sincerity alone.

"Of course," Agnes nodded, her mind racing as she contemplated what to say to deter her maid completely from her line of questioning. She appreciated Evans's concern but wasn't prepared to unburden her deepest fears just yet.

"I know what you’re trying to do," the girl suddenly said, her voice taking on a note of understanding that surprised Agnes.

Agnes quirked a brow, caught off guard.

"You’re trying to hedge around giving any answers," she added, her observation sharp.

"You’re right about the sounds you heard last night," Agnes sighed at last, the admission slipping out as the weight of her secrets became too much to bear alone.

"So youdidcry," the lady’s maid said, her voice softening as she suddenly took Agnes's hand in hers and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Is all well, My Lady?"

“I simply miss home,” Agnes replied, her voice low and touched with a wistfulness that she couldn't fully disguise.

“This is your home now,” Evans responded, her expression a mix of perplexity and concern. Agnes inwardly admonished herself for letting her guard down. She was supposed to maintain the facade of a happy marriage, not just to her husband but to everyone around her.

“Oh, do not fret too much,” Evans's grave demeanor suddenly lightened, as if she sensed Agnes's internal struggle and sought to ease it. “It is understandable that you will miss your family. But it is only a matter of time before you make your own family and home here,” she added, her tone becoming encouraging.

“Well, I am sure the Duke and Duchess wouldn’t want the boys moving here permanently,” Agnes countered, trying to steer the conversation away from more sensitive topics.

Evans chuckled, a sound that seemed to carry both sympathy and a touch of amusement. “Why, I do not mean the family you left behind moving here, My Lady. I mean a new one. The one you would make with the Marquess,” she clarified, her gaze fleetingly drifting to Agnes’s stomach before traveling back up to meet her eyes.

Realization dawned on Agnes, and she felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment at the insinuation. Yet, beneath that momentary flush of awkwardness, a deeper, more persistent ache surfaced. She was reminded again of what she’d sacrificed by entering this marriage.

The image of her own children, their laughter echoing through the halls of this very house, flashed through her mind, a vision sovivid yet so unattainable. She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in her throat from the sorrow of knowing such dreams would likely remain just that—dreams.

“We are all hoping it happens soon,” Evans went on, her voice filled with a happiness that seemed slightly out of place to Agnes.

“We?” Agnes echoed.

“The servants,” her lady’s maid clarified. “I heard Mrs. Davis and Quentin talking the other day. They also pray for a child for the Marquess soon. I don’t know why, but Mrs. Davis is of the opinion that he needs such gaiety in his life, those were her exact words. In fact, now that I think about it, they made it sound as though the Marquess’s life depended solely on having children. Like some sort of salvation,” she mused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. “But again, I suppose it is gaiety indeed for one to have their own children,” she concluded, nodding to herself as if affirming the truth of her statement.

Agnes had no immediate response to give her. She merely managed an awkward smile, her mind suddenly adrift with thoughts as Evans continued with her chores around the room. She couldn’t help but ponder the implications of the housekeeper and butler's conversation. If Evans’s recounting was accurate, it raised questions she hadn’t considered before.

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