A Fall from Grace - Maggie Ford (have you read this book TXT) 📗

sit with Lily when she appears. Don’t gossip with her about this. If she asks, say I’ll talk to her later. Do you understand?’

‘But what if Mr Merton comes back down?’

Fortunately, James’s butler had been upstairs with him having awakened him and served him his morning tea as he always did first thing most mornings. Since James’s health had deteriorated these last couple of years, he’d have Merton stay and chat while he sat in his armchair by the window where the sun poured in if the day was fine, Merton pottering about the room or sitting on a hard chair nearby if James fancied a chat.

Over the years, long before he’d married Madeleine, they’d become almost like friends, more so now that James’s health had grown steadily more chronic.

‘If Mr Merton returns downstairs, I shall tell him Mrs Ingleton is a little unwell – that’s all he needs to know for now. Now go!’

As the girl went out of the door, Mrs Cole turned her attention back to Madeleine. ‘How are you feeling now?’

There was concern but no longer any real gentleness in her tone. The woman was obviously disgusted, for all she was merely staff. Madeleine gave a small, wan smile. ‘Not so bad now. The pain seems to have died away. In fact I’m feeling much better.’

‘Well that’s encouraging. Maybe it was only a passing thing.’

‘Maybe we don’t need the doctor. I’ll go upstairs and rest instead.’

‘No, best you stay here. Moving about could start it off again. And you must have your doctor to look at you.’

It sounded as if she wanted him to prove her condition, even hope he would relay the good news to James, congratulate him on becoming a father-to-be, sparing her any temptation to confide in others, ending up with it reaching his ears and she being held responsible for spreading it. Madeleine could feel the fear gripping hold of her. How could she even hope to plead with their doctor to keep the news from James without having to explain why?

Within five minutes of receiving the phone call, Dr Peters was being conducted into the room by the young housemaid who, on appearing to be hovering, hurriedly backed out at a sharp look from Mrs Cole.

Dr Peters came to stand over Madeleine, his expression gentle and friendly. ‘Now what have we been up to, my dear?’

Before Madeleine could reply, Mrs Cole spoke for her. ‘Mrs Ingleton told me she’s in the family way, Doctor, but this morning she had… well, you know, a little show and she got herself in a bit of a state.’

‘Quite natural,’ Dr Peters said slowly. ‘Well then, I need to have a look at her. And she must go straight to bed and rest.’ He looked down at her, all smiles. ‘No need for alarm at this juncture, my dear. We will get you to bed and you must stay there until all sign of bleeding ceases. But…’

Again he smiled, this time with gentle concern. ‘I do need to add that there is every possibility you could lose the child despite rest and care. We will have to wait and see how it goes. Hopefully all will remain well. But you must rest and not fret overmuch. I know that is hard to do, but you must try to concentrate on all being well. I will tell Mr Ingleton—’

‘No! Don’t!’ Madeleine cried. ‘I don’t want him worried. It might go away and then there’ll be no need for him to know.’

Dr Peters looked mystified. ‘Nonsense, my dear, he must be told or he will be even more upset that his wife has kept a thing like this from him.’

Madeleine sat up sharply before he could stop her. ‘Dr Peters,’ she began, then seeing Mrs Cole still there behind him, said as nicely as she could, ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Cole. Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me this morning, but do you mind leaving us please?’

She didn’t seem that put out by the request. After all, she must have already guessed what her employer’s wife was about to tell the doctor.

Once they were alone, Madeleine haltingly and almost in a whisper mumbled her secret to him, her voice threatening to break as tears began to course down her cheeks, not daring to look up into his face, knowing the expression she would see written there.

After she’d done, he stood there not speaking. Finally he said in low measured tones, ‘You cannot keep a thing like this from him, my dear.’

She wished he wouldn’t keep saying, my dear, almost as though he were in league with James.

‘Even if the bleeding ceases he will want to know what all this is about.’

‘We don’t have to tell him.’

‘Of course you must. All this activity going on in his own home, he is bound to know, ask questions. He is not a stupid man and to be perfectly honest, my dear Mrs Ingleton, you should have thought of him, his feelings, before you embarked on… Well, you understand what I am saying.’

Madeleine didn’t answer. His sharp tone went right through her. Dr Peters spoke for her.

‘I think it your duty to tell him. Or would you prefer I do it? Less traumatic perhaps than coming from you, worked up as you are.’

But Madeleine hardly heard him, as hands covering her face, she broke into a paroxysm of weeping and found herself nodding to his words without being sure why, hearing him say something about having a bed brought down lest climbing the stairs to her bedroom might cause even more danger of losing the fetus. But that was just what she wanted – to lose the thing and have done with it.

She lay in her own bed, no longer pregnant, all efforts to save the minuscule life having been for nothing. It had been a terrible few hours seeming to go on forever, the uncontrollable straining making her moan, wishing she could die. At least she’d