Meant to Bea

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

His gentle hand on the small of her back, leading her through the quiet, dimly lit hall, did very little to ease her anxiety. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she managed to force one foot after the other forward until she was stepping out of the building that had constituted her entire life, and into the cold night air.

Pausing, her eyes took in the single carriage that stood before the building waiting patiently to take them to the sea port and the ship that would ultimately take them to their new lives in Australia.

Fear made the decision to leave almost an impossible one —the fear of what laid ahead. Yet, it was the same fear of staying behind and bearing the shame of what had happened, that forced the decision.

She remembered clearly the look on Race's face as he made his way into the room that afternoon —the same afternoon she had found out about the story of her rape making an appearance in the newspaper. It was clear from the frown on his face and the sadness that clouded his eyes, that he was aware of the news, and while the thought of not having to be the one to break it to him, left Bianca feeling slightly relieved, the burden of the damage the news would most likely cost, rested heavily on her shoulders.

“We should leave?” Race crouched before her, his words making clear his decision, yet leaving it open for her to decide.

Bianca sniffed, battling a headache. She was weak from crying. “Camden?” The words barely formed on her lips.

He shook his head. “London. I do not wish to keep fighting a lost battle, Bianca, neither do I wish for our child to be born into this stigma and rejection.” His hand reached for hers, sad eyes staring back at her.

Her hands trembling in his, Bianca sat still on the chair. She knew he was right, and for the sake of their baby, they needed to leave. “Me too.”

Nothing was discussed about where it was they would go, and by that evening, Race slid into bed beside her, gently drawing her tense form into his arms.

“Australia.” His finger played with a tendril of her hair. “Noah has a house there and has agreed for us to stay there.”

“Sounds wonderful.” Her voice carried no enthusiasm for she was still saddened by the newspaper incident.

“It is.” He leaned further against her, his head coming to rest on her shoulder from behind.

But it wasn't, it wasn't wonderful, for because of what had happened to her, they were being forced to leave. Silently, she blamed herself —she was ruining not only her husband's life, but the life of her future son who was next in line for the title her father left behind. If she took him away from London —even if she desperately wanted to leave— she would be depriving him of his birthright.

“Will everything be alright someday, Race?” She whispered into the darkness, but it didn't matter, for Race was already asleep.

“Bianca?” His voice dragged her back to the present. Gasping in surprise, she turned to him. He frowned. “Are you alright?”

Nodding slowly, “Yes.”

“Then we must leave before the first break of dawn.” He motioned to the carriage.

He was right, they needed to leave before they were caught doing so. Because of debt accumulated by her father, Race and Bianca couldn't leave Camden in broad daylight like every other traveler, they needed to sneak out like fugitives. Thankfully, Camden had arranged for them to leave on one of his cargo ships.

Sighing softly, she allowed him lead her toward the front stairs, her eyes catching a glimpse of a figure shrouded by darkness, standing by the horses as she approached. Slightly confused, a frown settled on Bianca's face as the image of the figure became clearer and it became apparent to her that rather than the coachman, it was a woman —her sister, she realized once she was down the stairs.