Page 12 of Miss Pauline's Perfect Present
A pained look crossed Augusta’s face and she stood very still.
“What’s wrong?” Pauline asked.
“It’s nothing. But I think it would be better if I were in my bed at home.”
At that moment, a sound of water dripping made Pauline look around in confusion. Augusta blanched and lowered her eyes to the floor. Pauline followed them to see that a puddle had formed around Augusta’s feet.
“My Lady!” Pauline said, and steered her to a chair. “I’ll go fetch the earl in.”
“No!” Augusta cried. “I don’t want him to know just yet. He mustn’t see me like this. Please go and tell him I want to stay for a short while, that he should take the carriage back to Lanyon House. And send Phyllida in to me—but don’t say anything to alarm her.”
“Then what will you do? You can’t stay here! You need a doctor.”
“I will go, but you and Phyllida will help me. I think between us we’ll manage.”
Pauline was not happy about this, although she understood why Augusta wanted it so. She knew that Lord Bridlington would be beside himself fretting over his wife and possibly not be very much help if she were to let him know that her time had come. So she did as instructed and ran back in with Phyllida in tow.
“I told you, M’Lady! This was a foolish idea, and now look at you!”
“Yes, yes,” Augusta said, pausing and laying her hand atop her belly as a grimace of pain crossed her face.
Holding her breath as she listened for the sound of horses being given the office to go and then clattering away, Pauline wrung her hands. As soon as she thought Lord Bridlington’s carriage must be out of sight, she said, “Get a hack, quickly Miss Carp!” Pauline was too overwrought to worry about being rude to the dresser.
But Phyllida understood well enough and dashed out the door.
“My Lady,” Pauline said, “will you be all right for just a moment while I go and tell Aloysius that he’ll have to manage without me for a bit?”
“Only for a bit,” Augusta said with a weak smile. “I just need help getting home, then you can come back.”
Pauline didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to make Augusta feel bad, but there was no way she was going to leave Lanyon House until she knew Augusta had been safely delivered of her child. And that meant that the job would most certainly not be finished on time. They couldn’t manage it without her. In fact, they likely couldn’t manage itwithher, she thought, finally facing the fact that she had foolishly taken something on that was likely to end in disaster.
She took a steadying breath and strode into the workroom. “Aloysius, I have to go,” she said.
“You can’t!” he cried, with a panicked look around room.
“Sshh! I don’t want her ladyship to hear. I have to go with her and Miss Carp. We must get her home.”
She gave the haberdasher a fierce look, and he opened his eyes wide, suddenly understanding. “Of course. We’ll do the best we can.”
“No,” Pauline said, wilting with resignation. “There’s no point.”
She spoke loudly enough for Mr. Cooper to hear, and he stopped what he was doing and came over to her. He had removed his coat and stood in only his shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The muscles in his forearms were too obvious, too distracting.Oh God!Pauline realized that she had lost the tailor—this man she was drawn to despite herself in these strange, intense circumstances—she had lost him his job to no purpose whatsoever, because there was no way now to finish the order. She met his eyes, which were full of concern and questions. “I’m so very, very sorry,” she said, dangerously close to tears. “I shall ensure you are paid handsomely for the work you have done thus far.”
Before he could protest, she wheeled around and ran back into the front room, pulling the door closed behind her.
CHAPTER 12
Cooper stood still for just a moment before whirling around to address Mr. Gordon. “No way I’m giving up on this. We have to at least try!”
“You said it was impossible.”
“I changed my mind.”
Gordon pursed his lips consideringly. “We have the three of us.”
“Won’t Mr. Kenton have to go back?”
At that moment, Kenton came down the stairs from the upper workroom, having left to stoke the fires for the irons. “They’ll be ready in a short while, Alo—Mr. Gordon,” he said, coloring slightly.
