As soon as Richard stepped through Lady Roynor's front door, the butler told him that her grace had been looking for him.

"Your wife has been taken ill," the butler said, "and is in her grace's bedroom above."

That was enough for Richard to abandon the people he'd come with and limp as fast as he could up the stairs. There was only one lit room above, and as he drew closer, he heard Neil say, 'Does Richard know?' and Laura mumble something in reply. Then Neil asked, 'Is it his?' and Richard had opened the door in time to see his wife slap his brother on the face.

Neil straightened himself, wincing, then met Richard's eyes and jumped. Laura turned her head, her eyes going wide and dark when she saw Richard.

"What's going on?" Richard asked. "Laura, is what mine?"

And then he knew what, by the expression in her eyes. The shock of it ran through him from head to foot. First, the bewildering comprehension of it, and secondly, the anger that Neil could even ask such a thing. He staggered and sat down suddenly upon the chest at the end of the bed.

"Is it... Laura, are you... But you can't be. Neil, she can't be. She's not. Unless—"

But he broke off, because Laura had burst into tears, the kind of sobbing, terrified tears a sick child cries. Neil's face was subsumed in guilt. He touched her arm but she shook him off.

"You've ruined everything," she sobbed. "Why do you have to ruin everything?"

He jumped back as though he was burned. Shakily, Richard forced himself to his feet, limped over, and pulled his wife into his arms.

"Don't cry," he said. "Don't cry, darling."

"She's unwell," Neil said helpfully. "She was sick before. I offered to take her home."

"I'll take her home," Richard said. "Go and make our excuses and send for the carriage, Neil."

"But—"

"Go!"

And Neil left. Richard thought if he had stayed, he might have slapped him too. He stroked Laura's back while she sobbed into his waist. She's not pregnant, he told himself. I can't have children. There's been some kind of mistake.

But she was talking tearfully into the buttons of his coat:

"I wanted to tell you. I was just getting sure and I wanted to tell you myself. Properly. He ruined it."

Richard hugged her tighter. "It's fine," he said numbly. "Let's go home. You're not well."

Laura wasn't listening. "You told me you couldn't, so I didn't know what to think, but I'm quite sure now."

Sure? Richard felt faint. She couldn't be sure. Not of that. He clutched at her, the warmth of her body in his arms giving him strength.

"It's not possible, Laura," he said. "I mean, what are you saying?"

"That we're going to have a baby." She spoke clearly for the first time. "Richard, I'm pregnant."

Richard stared at the coverlet of Lady Roynor's bed. It was a deep yellow, diamond print, with glinting silver thread to pick out the details. Far more tasteful than Richard had expected from Lady Roynor, who was always so heavily bedecked with jewels. His esteem of her rose.

"Did you hear me, Richard? Do you understand?" Laura touched his cheek.

"I heard you. I understand."

He didn't understand. Not in the slightest. But she was still crying, so he shook himself and found a handkerchief to dry her tears.

"Are you sure you can travel?" he asked, wiping her cheeks.

She shook her head. "I just want to go home. But you can stay."

"No. Don't be silly. I'm coming with you."

There was a step behind him, and he turned. Neil was back, looking rather hangdog.

"The carriage will arrive in ten minutes. But Lady Roynor says Laura can stay the night if she needs."

Laura shook her head. "Let me go home."

"Then we'll go." Richard rubbed her shoulder. "Can you walk?"

"Yes. I can walk." She seemed disappointed somehow, but Richard was too bewildered to try and understand why.

They followed Neil back down the stairs, into the hall. Laura had controlled her tears now, but Richard could feel her pulse beating fast and hot in her wrist. When they got to the front hall, he guided her down onto a cushioned bench. She was very pale still.

"Do you want a glass of water?" he asked.

She shook her head, seemingly unable to speak, and shut her eyes, leaning back in the chair. They were not alone; the hall was crowded and people were staring at them. Lady Roynor came bustling forward.

"Your wife isn't well enough to leave, Albroke. Let her stay the night."

"It's very kind of you," said Richard, "but she wishes to go."

"But really, she can't possibly be comfortable in the coach! That close air! Those awful roads!"

Richard looked doubtfully at Laura. He rather thought Lady Roynor was right. Whatever the cause, Laura didn't look well enough to travel. She was breathing deeply, almost heaving, her hand hovering over her stomach. Lady Harriet, Miss Dalrymple, and half a dozen others besides were watching curiously from a short distance. Richard could see by their faces what they were thinking, and knew it would be all over town before midnight. He sighed and bent over Laura.

"Are you really sure you're well enough to go home?"

She nodded. "Please."

"If you wish." He caressed her shoulder as he stood up again. "Lady Roynor, I'm really very grateful to you, but I'll do as my wife asks."

"And miss my ball?" There was a crocodile smile on Lady Roynor's face now.

"Does it make any difference," Richard asked impatiently, "if I miss your ball by sitting with my wife in a backroom of your house, or miss it by sitting with her in my own carriage? But I will miss it either way. I will be with her."

The smile widened. "It's a good thing for you I liked my husbands loyal, Albroke. Or I might have taken offense to that." She tapped him on the chest with her fan. "Though I'd advise she stay here regardless."

As she spoke, Miss Dalrymple broke away from Lady Harriet and came inquisitively closer, clutching her reticule in front of her like a squirrel holding a nut.

"Oh dear," she said with a broad smile, "is the little thing ill now? Oh dear. What could the cause of this be?"

"I'm only a little under the weather," Laura said wearily, opening her eyes.

Miss Dalrymple patted Laura gently with her withered hand and looked her up and down with a discerning eye. Then she grinned at Lady Roynor.

"It's nearly June now. That'll put it about December."

"You haven't won yet," Lady Roynor said. Then she sighed. "Well. I hold you to blame for this, Albroke."

Richard couldn't tell if this was one of her strange jokes or not, but on the sofa Laura gave a full body shiver and suddenly neither Lady Roynor nor anyone else mattered. Richard sat down next to Laura and put his arm around her, wishing everybody would go away. Thankfully, the footman announced that their carriage was ready, interrupting further interrogation. Richard helped Laura back to her feet, noticing how she trembled. As he left, he saw Lady Roynor talking busily to Lord Wiltshire and Lady Harriet in a corner, and Miss Dalrymple standing silently by with a smile, but he could not hear what they were saying.

Outside, Richard helped Laura into the carriage then got up himself. Neil started to get in behind them but Richard blocked the door with his stick.

"You can walk."

"What? But it'll take me half the night!"

"Yes," Richard said savagely. "I know."

"Why!?"

"Because you made my wife cry."

Neil gave him a look of mute indignation, then shrugged and turned back to the hall. Laura eyed Richard nervously, but said nothing. When the door was shut on them, Richard took Laura's hand in his and held it, but he didn't know what to say, and she seemed too ill to speak. He wanted to tell her she must be wrong, she could not be pregnant, but he didn't want to risk making her cry again, because pregnant women shouldn't be made to cry.

When they got home, he ordered a servant to make warm milk and took Laura to her room, where he helped her undress and put her to bed like a child. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking her hair, while she lay listlessly on her side. Soon, her eyes drifted shut, but he remained there for some time, watching her. The shock was slowly passing, but he still didn't understand it. He couldn't have children; she was pregnant. The two facts could not be reconciled.

An hour or so later, there was a soft knock on the door and Neil looked in.

Richard's tenderness cooled. He bent to kiss Laura then left, shutting the door softly behind him. They went downstairs in the dark to the study. Richard lit the candles over the fireplace. When he turned around, Neil was pouring brandy into two tumblers. His shoulders were slumped. He pushed one of the glasses towards Richard then took the other himself and sank down into an armchair.

"Are you alright?" Neil asked.

"Fine."

"You look pale."

Reluctantly, Richard took a sip of his drink. He felt the blood rise in his veins.

"How do you feel?"

"I don't know. Confused." Richard took another sip of brandy and noticed his hands were shaking. He set his glass down on the bookshelf and hid his hands in his pockets. "I just can't believe it."

Neil looked pained. "It... It might be yours, you know. Sir Templeton might have been mistaken."

Richard looked up. "What?"

"The baby. It might be yours."

For a moment, the room was so silent that Richard could register a faint buzzing noise in his ears — his blood, he thought dimly. Strangely, it was what Neil had said that made Richard suddenly believe that Laura really was pregnant. Neil treated the fact of a baby as a matter of certainty. It was only its paternity he doubted. A flame of anger rose up inside Richard, burning away his numb shock.

"Might?" he said, in a soft, poisonous tone. "Might!?"

Neil froze.

"If she's with child, it's mine. I don't know how it happened, but it's mine. And I won't let anyone — not even you — say such disgusting things about my wife."

"Richard, I didn't mean it that way."

"What other way did you mean it?" Richard demanded, taking another gulp of his drink. "What other way could that possibly be taken? Just what kind of person do you think Laura is?"

"You've heard the rumours from when she was Maidstone's wife," Neil said. "What am I supposed to think? That she changed when she married you?"

Richard hurled his glass into the fireplace, where it smashed. Neil jumped to his feet, looking alarmed.

Richard forced his fists to relax and took a deep breath, his flood of anger subsiding. He wasn't going to be like his father. He wasn't going to be like Maidstone. But he'd never been so angry before in his life. It seemed to burn like fire in his veins.

He forced himself to speak calmly. "You don't understand her, Neil. You don't know her very well. She has never betrayed me and she never will. The rumours about her and Maidstone were all cruel, all false."

Neil was staring into the fireplace, where the brandy was leaking into the hearth. Just as Richard was about to apologise for throwing the glass, Neil said quietly, "They weren't all false."

Richard felt the anger returning. "You know nothing of it."

"I do." Neil took a deep breath. "There was a man who came by earlier today. I heard Laura speak to him. He said he loved her. That they'd been lovers. She told him it had meant nothing to her, but a way to get back at Maidstone. She didn't know I was listening. I'm not saying she's done it to you, Richard. I'm just saying she did it to him."

Richard watched Neil through narrowed eyes. Neil wasn't a liar. Nor was there room in what he said for human mistake. But then, Richard didn't even want to disbelieve it. He'd always suspected that Laura was keeping something back, the night she'd told him how Maidstone had abused her. It had been too easy to guess what. Then she had managed her revenge after all, but Maidstone had died before she could present him with the evidence.

He sighed. "Do you know, this doesn't change my opinion of my wife in the slightest. What she did before we were lovers is a closed book now. Towards me, her conduct is absolutely unimpeachable. But it does change my opinion of you. I didn't know you were the kind to eavesdrop and then tell tales."

"I wasn't eavesdropping."

"Then why didn't you show yourself and offer her support?" Richard demanded. "Did the man threaten her?"

"No!"

"Did he hurt her?"

Neil hesitated. "I think he tried to kiss her."

"And you just sat back, listening, leaving my wife to fend off his harassment?"

"She seemed to be in control of it!"

Richard scoffed. "Chivalrous of you, Neil." He pushed himself away from the bookshelves. "Why is it, that of all the women on earth, my wife is the only one you can't give even basic respect to? No, don't answer that. You'll say it's her. It's not her, Neil. It's you."

He opened the door and left without waiting to hear Neil's reply.

A/N 2: you guys get this one early because I am stuck in an airport my flights all delayed and my holiday ruined. Silver linings, right?