Lady in Rags

Chapter Forty-Five: Guilt, not Love

"His wife? But-"

"Go home, Jane," snarled Richard. "Get out." Jane stared at him for a moment, looked once at Neil, with wide, horrified eyes, and then fled down the hallway.

Neil sat on the balustrade and stared up at Richard. His brother limped over and shook his shoulder – not gently.

"Your wife is giving birth to your child. Get up. She is going to need you."

His knees still shaking, Neil managed to stand. "My child." A horrible, impossible fear came to him. "Is it mine?"

Richard lifted one corner of his lips contemptuously. "You'll have better cause to ask that if Jane has a child. Yours isn't the only horse in that race."

"I wasn't- I don't-"

"Did she seduce you? On this balcony? In your dressing gown? Did you fall for it!?"

"No!" Neil pushed Richard away from him, the familiar shame settling over him. Shame, and echoes of shame.

I saw you kiss Jane last night.

"No! I didn't!" He twisted, looking for the voice that spoke so hollowly in his ear. But she wasn't there. Of course she wasn't there. She was inside, giving birth to a baby. "But how do I know?" he demanded. "I can't remember. I can't remember a damn thing and everyone says it's my child. How can I know?"

"Because we know! We know, Neil." He lowered his voice and softened his tone. "Come inside. I will have some tea made up for you."

Numbly, Neil followed him inside. He felt as though he was watching himself move down the hall, rather than moving himself. When he was pushed down onto the sofa in his sitting room, he put his head in his hands.

Some time later, someone did come with tea, and Richard sat by him, and they drank. Neil noticed that Richard's cup trembled in his hands. When the servants were gone, Neil said quietly,

"Jane told me the truth. I was married to the girl. That was when she got pregnant. And then the marriage was annulled. It's a relief – in a way. I wasn't dishonourable to her."

Richard rested his cup on his bad knee. "Should I have told you before? I thought it would only shock you. You didn't remember her. There's a lot you don't remember."

"I remembered something." Neil sipped tea. Real tea. Either they had forgotten his cambric diet, or he was no longer such an invalid. It gave him strength. Made him feel like he was in his body, and not just watching himself from afar.

Richard was looking carefully at him. "What did you remember?"

"Nothing good. Something dishonourable."

"It might not be true."

"It is." Neil finished his tea, and put the cup on the side table, and plunged, full-length, on his belly into the couch. He was tired. His cheeks burned. "Do you know how we met?"

Richard was silent for a long time. He must have known, Neil realized. All along, he must have known.

"Do you know?" Neil repeated ominously.

"Jane said something – I don't believe it was entirely true. Miss Baker's father was in debt to you, and persuaded you to accept – her – in payment."

"I made the offer." Neil buried his face in a cushion. "I made the offer myself, Rich. And she accepted."

"I don't believe it. You might have offered – if you were in a black mood – but she would never have accepted. Never."