Page 83 of A Deal with the Earl (Necessary Arrangements 1)
“You think that by keeping her away, you are holding on to your pride, and maybe you are. But pride doesn’t keep one warm at night. And I’d rather you hold on to your love. So, go to her. No matter the hour or day of the week. No matter if she’s stubborn or unreceptive. Go to her and tell her how you feel. Tell her she’s stuck with you, whether she likes it or not.”Tell her because that’s what I should have said.The unspoken words hung between them. The dowager made a few steps to the door. She paused with her hand on the handle and looked over her shoulder. Then turned back and left the room without another word.
A few hours later, Robert was sitting in his carriage, tapping his walking stick impatiently against his thigh. He’d left his London residence a few minutes after his conversation with the dowager. It wasn’t because he made a deal with her to listen to her advice; it was more that he was tired of living with this weight in his chest. The dowager was right. He needed to say those things to Julie. He needed her to know all the information. To know that she wasn’t sacrificing her love for her soldier just because of the babe. He needed to convince her they could be happy together.
* * *
The carriage drew to a halt, and Robert leaped out of it without the help of a groom. He entered the house and froze.
The household was in an uproar. Footmen running back and forth with buckets of water, maids with lengths of linen. Some were carrying soiled clothes, soiled, if he’d seen it correctly, in blood. Robert was jolted out of the stupor by the sight of it and ran upstairs, taking the steps two or three at a time. His most horrifying fears had come true. The maids were bustling in and out of Julie’s room.
Robert ran inside and saw a woman, looking like a nurse, washing his wife’s unmoving body with a length of cloth. Julie was sprawled on the bed, covered with a sheet from thighs to her throat. Her legs were uncovered for cleaning.
“What’s going on?” Robert’s voice came out in a croak.
The woman stood up and curtsied.
“My Lord,” she said solemnly.
“Tell me what is going on, damn it!” Robert swore and strode to his wife’s side. Her face was covered in a sheen of sweat. He ran his hand on her face. It was cold, but not lifeless cold. He felt her breath on his hand and let out a breath of his own.
“She lost the babe, sir,” the woman, the nurse, whose existence he’d already forgotten about, completely absorbed with his wife, pronounced the most gut-wrenching words he could have ever heard.
“How?” his voice was barely a whisper.
“She woke up to a pool of blood,” the nurse said quietly. “These things happen sometimes.”
Robert fell to his knees next to the bed. His wife, his love, woke up to this nightmare, and she was completely alone. Because he was an idiot. The dowager was right as always.
Robert spent the entire night by his wife’s bed. He sat in a chair, holding her hand, praying for her to wake up. She was pale and cold, but she was breathing, and that was a good sign, or at least that was what the nurse said. He’d sent for a doctor, but he had arrived only in the morning, and he said nothing more than the nurse did. He said that whether she lived was in the hands of God, but the longer she didn’t wake, the less chance there was that she ever would.
Robert spent most of his day talking to her, praying, and begging her to wake up. He spoke to Mary when she woke up and told her that Julie was feeling sluggish and needed rest. He didn’t want to terrify the poor child, but Mary was more aware than he thought. Apparently, Julie had not been feeling well for days. Robert felt the guilt and the anger rise to the surface. If he’d been here, he’d know this. If he stayed with her instead of leaving them alone on his remote estate. But the recriminations didn’t help Julie. He instructed the housekeeper to write notes to the dowager and Evie and keep them apprised of Julie’s condition and instructed Alice not to leave Mary’s side. He, on the other hand, had refused to leave her side. He slept by her bed, ate as little as he did by her bed, and the rest of the time talked to her.
“You know,” Robert said to his sleeping wife when he was tired of cajoling her to wake up. When there was nothing else to say, “I used to be a great romantic,” he said with a small self-deprecating laugh. “You don’t know this because you didn’t know me back then. You were very young back then, as was I. I dreamed of having a family of my own. A wife I loved, a houseful of children.” Robert paused and shook his head at the memories. “After all of my dreams were shattered, I admonished myself for being a complete fool. For being as naïve as I was, blind as I’d been. Well, I might not be as naïve as I once were, but I am still blind and a complete fool.”
He took her hand in his and raised it to his face. He pressed her hand against his cheek as he continued. “There are things I need to tell you, Julie. And I need you to be awake to hear them. I want you to know—I need you to hear me, and then, you can make your own decisions on what to do next. Just—wake up.”
He moved her hand against his forehead and held it pressed like that in both of his hands for what seemed like hours. He was drifting off to sleep when he felt something stir against his forehead. He opened his eyes and felt it again as if someone moved a lock of his hair away from his face. He raised his head and saw Julie watching him.
“Thank God,” he moved her hand that was still clasped in both of his to his mouth and kissed her icy fingers. “Thank God, Julie,” he said, his voice hoarse. He saw as tears rolled down her face and her shoulders convulsed in sobs.
“No, don’t cry.” Robert sat on the bed beside her and pressed her body against his, placing her head against his shoulder. “Please, don’t cry,” he coaxed, kissing the top of her head, her forehead. She sobbed for several minutes as he crooned soothing nonsense into her ears and ran his hands in circles over her back.
She finally raised her head and regarded him in tears filled eyes. “The babe,” she said on a hiccup, and more tears fell down her cheeks. Robert closed his eyes in agony as she renewed her sobbing.
“I’m sorry, sweet,” he said as he pressed her against him once again. “I am so sorry.”
Julie had quieted down a few minutes after. Robert had sent for a pot of tea and a piece of toast and sat by Julie’s side, holding her in his arms.
“It’s my fault,” she mumbled.
“What is?” he asked, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.
“The babe,” she said emotionlessly. “My father was right; I can do nothing right. Not even carry a babe to term.”
Robert turned to her and regarded her quizzically. “Your father is an arse. And why would you say it is your fault?”
“I—I was afraid.” She closed her eyes as if speaking gave her too much pain. “I didn’t want to be with child because I was afraid. My mother, she died in childbirth,” she continued in her solemn voice. “I was there. I saw it happen. The blood-drenched sheets, the screaming, the lifeless body of a babe—I never wanted it to happen to me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” Robert said against her hair as he hugged her tighter to him, but he already knew the answer. The deal. She sacrificed herself to this marriage and pushed down her fears for Mary. He wasn’t exactly the most open person to have a conversation with.
“At first, it was the bargain,” she confirmed his own deductions, “then, I was too afraid—I was afraid you’d think less of me.”
“What?” Robert wrenched away to look at her face. “I would never—”
“You wanted an heir, what kind of wife—”
“I don’t care about an heir. Let Eric hold the title! I don’t care if I won’t be allowed to bed you again, I need you alive, do you hear me? I don’t give a damn about our bloody deal. It’s off. All I want is you!” Robert was almost huffing with the outrage. “I love you,” he said fiercely, almost angrily, and won himself a look of pure surprise. “Yes, I love you, and I am an idiot for not saying it earlier. I want you. As my wife, as my love, as my lifelong companion. I love you.” He repeated. “I don’t care if you don’t—”
Julie huffed a breath and turned away from him.
“I don’t care that you don’t love me,” he continued quietly. “I love you enough for the both of us.”