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If a woman was caught in such a position, she surely would have been burned at the stake. Perhaps not literally, but even in a figurative sense, it would not be pleasant. Yet it was common knowledge that men frequented brothels. Why would this one case be different?

“Since you feel better,” Olivia said cautiously, “perhaps you’d like to join us at the Payne ball next Wednesday?”

Helen chased her food around with the fork. “I am not certain I am ready for a full night of dancing. Maybe I should start with a musicale or dinner. I am, however, ready to rejoin the world. I don’t believe I’ve been out since… since…” Since Greyson’s death. And if she were honest, a few months before that. Unless one considered a kidnapping as an outing, which Helen doubted anyone would.

“But we don’t have to stay all evening,” Olivia assured her. “We can leave whenever you feel like it.”

Helen frowned at her food. “Perhaps I can ask the coachman to drive me home earlier and then return for you.”

Now it was Olivia’s turn to frown. “I don’t think Jarvis would approve.”

“Would he approve of me going out at all? He is still very concerned that it took me this long to recover. And Dr. Richards—”

Olivia waved a hand. “Dr. Richards is a feeble-minded idiot, and the things he said are not to be trusted. I am not going to listen to him and neither should you.”

Helen smiled at her cousin’s fierce proclamations, but it was not easy to dismiss the doctor’s ominous words. Especially when they were repeated over and over again. It was even more difficult after spending the last few weeks in agonizing misery.

She understood Olivia’s reluctance to believe Dr. Richards’ words. Olivia had suffered a miscarriage a few months prior, and she was frightened that the same thing would happen to this baby as well.

Helen’s own past experience hadn’t helped to alleviate Olivia’s fears. And when Olivia shared her concerns with Dr. Richards, he was rather harsh in his judgment and said some terrible things. To make matters worse, his treatment made Helen even sicker than she already was.

“Having said that,” Olivia continued, “I am not going to overexert myself either. And this ball will probably be the last night before my confinement. So, you should join us!”

Helen raised her brows. “Confinement?”

Olivia was barely showing, and her clothing concealed her stomach rather easily even without any alterations. Soon, the clothing would be altered, hiding the ever-growing belly, and eventually, she wouldn’t be able to show herself in public. But that was months away. Most women didn’t start confinement until the last month of their pregnancy. And even then they still visited their closest friends and relatives.

Annalise, the Countess of Payne, their mutual friend, was luncheoning with her friends until the week of her labor.

Olivia didn’t see Helen’s worried expression. She chased the food around her plate as she answered, “I am not going to believe in Dr. Richards’ dire prognosis. He gave us both terrible news and his methods of healing didn’t work for you. But the other doctors I’ve seen all say the same thing. They say I am too active and that’s why the—” She swallowed and raised her desolate eyes to Helen.

Helen reached out and covered Olivia’s hand with hers, stilling her nervous fidgeting. “It’s not your fault, I promise. These things happen.” She took a deep breath, trying to banish the memories. “I spent all of my pregnancies lying in bed. And it didn’t make any difference.”

Olivia unclenched her jaw with great effort. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“I am sorry,” Helen whispered. “I didn’t mean to… It probably sounded very discouraging. But that’s not what I meant at all. What I mean is that you and I are different.”

Olivia shrugged. “The doctors don’t seem to know anything, but what else am I to do? And the one thing they have in common is that they say that it is best to stay off my feet, rest, try not to worry or experience any emotional turmoil—as if that is something that I can control—and stop the conj—um… I meant to say…”

“Conjugal relationship with your husband?” Helen finished for her.

Olivia bit her lip. “Yes.”

Helen withdrew her hand, as her brows knitted in worry.

Olivia and Jarvis were very passionate in their love. Everyone in the household knew that, including Helen. Helen had even unknowingly walked in on the couple being intimate with each other on a few separate occasions, in a few different locations around the house. These encounters not only made her blush but also made her question everything she knew about marriage.

At first, Helen thought it barbaric. To just stop everything and lose themselves in passion in the middle of the day like animals seemed uncivilized. But the more she lived with the St. Johns, the more she saw the raw love, passion, and respect they had for each other, and the more she thought that perhaps her view of marriage was the wrong one.

She and Greyson had never been this absorbed with each other. But perhaps it was because they too were advised by doctors to stop their intimacy. And the idea that Jarvis could turn away from Olivia like Greyson turned away from Helen made her heart fill with fear.

Olivia picked at her fingertips, obviously worried. And her mind probably made the same leap that Helen’s did, because she asked, “Did you… when you had this issue, did they tell you the same? Because it did not help you, did it?”

As always direct, Olivia probably did not realize that a sharp pain pierced Helen’s heart at her words. It did not help her, no. She still lost her babes, and she lost her husband to mistresses in the process.

Helen swallowed a grimace and attempted a small smile. “No, dear. It didn’t help. In fact, we never—that was never the issue. At least not in my case.”

Olivia’s frown deepened.