Page 63 of Miss Ashbury and the Anatomy of Mending a Heart

Adelaide, she thought. Please let nothing happen to Adelaide.

Though she and Adelaide weren’t nearly as close as Candace and Adelaide were, Vera still admired the lady for her kindness and quick intelligence. It was a rare combination in English society, where ladies usually demonstrated their wit by aiming slicing set-downs at their competitors.

When they arrived at the grand house, the mannerisms of the staff did little to calm Vera’s worry. They were greeted in the driveway by a grouping of servants led by the housekeeper, who wrung her hands. Stephen rushed up the stairs behind a footman who took the stairs two at a time. Vera huffed in their wake, holding her skirts far too high for propriety’s sake in her haste—but no one noticed or cared.

They swept through the door of the lord’s suite. Vera nearly slumped into a chair—for there was Adelaide, resting comfortably in bed against a mound of pillows. She was nearly upright, an embarrassed little smile on her face, her eyes bright.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Percy said, ushering Stephen to the bedside. “I was beside myself.”

“Really, Percy, this isn’t necessary.” Adelaide gave a grimacing smile to Stephen and Vera. “I’m so very sorry. They shouldn’t have called you at all.”

“We weren’t busy, were we, Vera?” Stephen smiled at her, as if checking that she’d made it up the stairs after all. “Now, since we’re here, you might as well let me help you.”

“I just had…I had a minor stomach upset.” Adelaide’s cheeks grew pinker by the second. “I feel much better now. There was no need to call the physician, as I told my husband from the first.”

“Some mild stomach upset shouldn’t be any cause for alarm.” Stephen frowned and looked back and forth between the married couple.

The marchioness was giving her husband a wide-eyed beseeching look, as if silently begging him for something. The marquess frowned implacably back.

“Are you sure that there isn’t something else you’d like to tell me?” Stephen said gently.

Vera trusted his instincts—there was something they weren’t privy to, some undercurrent here they didn’t understand.

“Not at all,” Adelaide said.

“Darling—” Percy tilted his head.

“I beg of you—please don’t.” She shook her head, her eyes wide.

“He’s already here. We might as well tell him.”

Adelaide still shook her head desperately, her eyes round.

Percy turned to Stephen resolutely, his back straight. “She belched.”

Adelaide groaned and covered her face with her hands.

“Belched?” Stephen replied, his tone one of mild, professional interest.

Vera was impressed; she didn’t know how Stephen managed it. She herself was struggling to gain control of her own winged eyebrows.

Percy nodded stoutly.

“Pregnancy can cause more eructation than normal—” Stephen began.

Percy threw his hands in the air. “You don’t understand! It was the biggest belch I’ve ever heard!”

Vera choked back a giggle; she made little strangled noise, instead. Adelaide still covered her face, but her shoulders were shaking against her propped pillows. Vera desperately hoped the lady was laughing and not sobbing from humiliation.

“Oh, well—” Stephen said.

Percy kept on, waggling his finger. “And mind you, I went to Eton. Have you ever heard a bar room full of young lords freshly let loose upon society? It’s crude and loud, and Lord Fergus could belch the entirety of ‘God Save the King.’ We used to have belching competitions, with points given for tenor and resonance and length of echo.” He slashed his hand through the air for emphasis. “This belch left them all behind.”

“I see.” Stephen was smiling now, but it was still well within the bounds of politeness.

Adelaide peeked through her fingers. Vera was relieved to see that the woman was hiding embarrassed laughter, instead of tears.

“Percy,” Adelaide finally managed to gasp. “Please stop. I’m mortified.”