prefer my cape." My cape was all I owned. I had no shawls and Katey knew it.

I put it out of my mind and looked over the grounds to see if Archie -- I was only allowed to call him Archie when we were alone in our own little room -- was anywhere in sight. In the presence of anyone else I called him Archibald.

I spied him and his mentor working at the tall poplars at the end of the cobblestone drive.

A little rush of excitement quickened my step. He still made my breath catch in the back of my throat when I came upon him working with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his waistcoat open. His tight muscles flexing and unflexing always made me long for his arms to encircle me as they did when our naked bodies thrashed together on our bed.

With his head bent forward, his dark shiny hair fell forward and his raven black eyes were hidden. When he looked up and turned my way, he seemed to look right through me. He called to Giles, who stepped from behind the tree, and the two daft bloaks simply gawked.

They looked at me as though they had never seen my like before, and I realized they were having a bit of sport at my expense. So I turned my nose up and walked grandly through the large opened gates. I'll show those dullards who to ogle, I vowed.






It was only a short way to the chemist's shop but my legs felt tired already, and I wondered why. I found a bench to sit upon for awhile. My feet felt as though they would pop right out of my shoes. Temporarily rested, I looked round to make sure I was not being seen, then bent down and unfastened five more buttons on each boot.

The skin above my shoes was tight and itchy and I was horrified to see that I still had on my woolen stockings! The ones I slept in. How could I have done that? Not like me to forget something so important, I agonized. Even sculleries wore cotton hosiery in the daytime.

A horse cart turned the corner toward me, so I straightened and smoothed out the woven thickness of my cloak and wished I'd listened to Katey and left it behind. After a few minutes, I stood to resume the walk. I touched the bottom of my reticule to feel for the crackle of paper on which the prescription had been written.

Satisfied, I thought of the liquid medication Nursey had ordered. It was the putrid, dark red mixture she dosed Lady Jocelyn with all day long. It must have tasted nasty because anything that smelled that ghastly had to be vile.

I could almost taste it.

Beyond my ken, this morning, Nurse Hilda had directed me to sit at Her Ladyship's side and hold her boney hands in mine. We held that posture overlong, because when Nirsey finally directed that we break our grasps, my hands felt cold and stiff. And my back didn't want to straighten.

Nursey and Lady Jocelyn, who, of late, spent hours in hushed head to head conversations, hardly spoke this morning. So as soon as the boudoir was empty, I took my leave.

My legs were so shaky I had to reach out a hand to the shop fronts to steady myself as I made my way -- slowly -- down the street. I actually felt lightheaded. What the bloody hell is going on! I screamed in my head. Surely a young woman of sixteen, as myself, should not get this weak from a five-week pregnancy. Should she?

My dear, departed mother had given birth to eleven babies and no one even knew she was expecting until her stomach swelled out in front of her.