Page 39 of A Most Unsuitable Lover
“You did what you had to,” Juliette reassured the duchess and covered her cold hand with her own. “Our friend’s health is more important than anything, no matter what happens.”
Lady Morton’s mouth thinned into a grim line and she nodded in agreement with a squeeze of Juliette’s hand.
Together, they dashed down the hallway and one floor down toward the rooms she’d assigned Lord and Lady Sommerfeld. As expected, there were a couple of maids taking turns leaving and arriving, carrying with them items Ian requested or running off to gather something else. It didn’t escape Juliette’s notice that there was also a pair of footmen barring Lord Sommerfeld from the room. And, judging from his furious, frantic pacing, the angry pounding of his cane with every halting step, Sommerfeld wasn’t the least bit pleased to be kept away from his wife.
“Lord Sommerfeld,” Juliette injected steel into her spine and approached him as one would a dangerous predator. She had come to know him well enough to have a sense of the depth of love he had for Meredith. He moved like a caged lion kept separate from everything that mattered to him. The weight of his adoration, fear, and concern for his wife was so powerful and beautiful that it was nearly frightening. His handsome features were pale and taut with anxiety when he whirled on her. His eyes raked her up and down as if his mind needed a moment to recognize how she fit into this tragedy. Her cheeks burned furiously when she remembered how he had found her and Ian, but she did her best to set it aside. What he must think of her… “Dr. McCullom is with her, I’m sure he won’t allow anything to happen.”
“I don’t understand what is going on,” he croaked, shaking his head. She watched his eyes shadow as his mind began to travel to an impossibly dark place. She could easily guess the panicked questions running through him: What if something happened to his wife? What if there was nothing Ian could do? Even Juliette understood that the blow of losing his wife would undoubtedly be the end of the viscount—she’d learned that he’d teetered on the brink after his injury and had isolated himself from Society and only his wife had been able to heal him enough to bring him back to life.
Juliette was at a loss. What did one say to a man so terrified?
“Juliette? What are you doing here?” She hadn’t spotted Ethan around Lord Sommerfeld’s shoulder, so concerned she’d been about the viscount’s state of mind. Her brother looked as if he’d been roused from sleep as well and was dressed similarly to the viscount in nothing more than a linen shirt and breeches, his dark hair uncharacteristically tousled.
“I—I…” She felt her face lose all its color in a rush of panic. Her mind froze. She was saved from having to answer when the door opened and Ian stepped from the room.
Juliette recognized in the hard mask of his face that he’d donned his physician’s persona, surgically separating his emotions from his work. Gone was his tender passion and the sweet smile she experienced only a short time ago; his eyes were unreadable, his mouth a fine, impassive line.
Juliette braced herself, twisting her fingers together until they were white and growing numb. It was nothing compared to the stillness that took hold of Sommerfeld. The servants scampered away and tension filled the hallway around the five of them. Lady Morton came up beside her and held her hand. Ian cast a glance in Juliette’s direction before stepping closer to Sommerfeld. She was torn between allowing them privacy and wanting to be near in case the news was grim; Juliette knew Meredith wouldn’t want her husband alone if that were the case.
Ian inclined his head to the viscount’s and spoke in a low, steady tone. Sommerfeld flinched and heaved a sigh which quickly morphed into a sob. His cane clattered to the floor and he sank to the ground more quickly than was comfortable, but he didn’t seem to notice. His injured leg outstretched, he held his golden head in his hands, the overlong locks shielding his features, his shoulders heaving silently.
To her surprise, Ian followed him down and placed a familiar hand on Sommerfeld’s shoulder. He continued to speak softly, to which Sommerfeld nodded, though he did not lift his head. Ian stood, offered a gentle smile to Juliette and the rest of their audience, and then ducked back into the room. Ethan came to Juliette’s side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Is there anything we can do, Sommerfeld?” Ethan asked softly, treading the fine line between intrusive and friendly. The hallway was stuffed tight with tension. What had happened? Would Lady Sommerfeld be alright?
The viscount finally looked up, turning quickly to the side to swipe at his face. To all their surprise, he emitted a strangled laugh. “My wife is pregnant,” he uttered incredulously. “And she will be fine. The baby is moving and seems strong. McCullom explained this happens sometimes, this sort of minor hemorrhage. There is no reason for it.” Sommerfeld shook his head disbelievingly. “She needs good food, rest, and peace, but all should be well.”
Ethan crouched and held a hand out to the viscount, hauling him to his feet when their hands clasped and hugging him in a strong embrace.
“That is wonderful news,” Ethan congratulated him heartily. Sommerfeld clutched him back.
Juliette bit her lower lip, trying not to allow tears of relief and joy to spill over. Lady Morton was not so lucky; she quietly flicked away a few glittering tears.
Instead, Juliette busied herself with retrieving Sommerfeld’s cane, intending only to hand it to him and take her leave to allow him privacy; however, Sommerfeld caught her eye before she could escape. He stepped closer to her and accepted his cane.
“Thank you,” he began in a low tone to prevent her brother from overhearing too much, though he’d already busied himself with speaking to a passing maid; “for inviting McCullom. Lord knows what would have happened if you hadn’t.” The viscount squeezed her shoulder in gratitude. “Meredith will need to rest for at least a few weeks before traveling—especially given the distance to my family’s estate in Kent. I realize this is an imposition, but might we stay on until she’s well enough to move?”?“Certainly!” Juliette replied immediately. “Do not hesitate to let us know if there is anything you require. I want the both of you to be as comfortable as possible.”
Sommerfeld inclined his head in gratitude but gently grabbed her elbow when she turned to leave. He dipped his head and spoke in an even lower tone. “I am granting you a small reprieve because I wish to be with my wife now and because I am indebted to you.” Juliette’s stomach flipped and her cheeks flushed with mortification. “But I am honor-bound to tell you brother what I discovered earlier.” His piercing green eyes searched hers as he hesitated before his next question. “He did not force you, did he?”
She reared back. “Of course not!” she hissed.
He nodded, seeming more than a little relieved. “Take a few days to consider the situation. I will allow you to think on how you would like to present it before I bring it to Hopesend’s attention. It is not my intention to bring you pain or difficulties, but your brother has been a good friend and he is an honorable man. I cannot in good conscience allow this to continue beneath his roof and pretend I saw nothing. A brother, myself, I would wish to confirm my sister is in good hands.”
She averted her eyes in silent acknowledgment and the viscount ducked into the room with his wife and Ian.
∞∞∞
It wasn’t long before Ian quit the room with his medical bag, leaving George and Meredith alone. George quickly shucked his shirt before climbing into bed with his wife. She looked so small and pale in her white nightshift and clean ivory bed linens. He pulled her close to him with infinite care and cradled her there as she curled into his protective embrace. Together, they simply listened to the sounds of their heartbeats and mingling breaths for a long while without speaking.
“How long have you known about the pregnancy?” George finally asked. There was no accusation in his tone, only curiosity, wonder, and fatigue.
“A few months… I wanted to wait until I was further along before I said something in case the worst happened.”
“Then what?” George stiffened. “You would keep it to yourself and grieve alone? You would deny me the opportunity to experience my own grief for our child? For what you had to endure?” He heard her sniff and held her closer, softening his voice once more. This woman had weathered more than many others could have, and she’d done so with a firm hold upon her dignity. To see her bare her soul with such raw candor was both a privilege and terrifying because she held so much inside. “I did not marry you to obtain the ideal of a family, I married you because I love you as you are, regardless of what the future may or may not have in store for us.” George’s throat thickened. “There will be no grieving, Meredith. You are healthy and strong. The babe will be well. We will have our family.”
She clutched onto him as joy engulfed them both.
“Are you pleased?” she asked in a watery voice.
