One Night of Sin (Mansforth Chronicles Book 1)
One Night of Sin: Chapter 9

Two Weeks Later

Of all the things Lilliana had been expecting the good doctor to say to her, it was not this news.

Certainly not this news.

The room was nearly spinning as she struggled to breathe, and as the doctor went to fetch a cool rag to place upon her head, she closed her eyes, praying that at any moment she would wake up from this dream.

Or rather, this nightmare.

She hadn’t come all this way, sneaking about town right under Braxton’s nose to hear such dreadful news.

She could not be a mother. Not to a man she’d only known but a month. Why, he would be furious if he found out she was with child now! Not to mention her career would be over, and by the time all was set and done, she would be lucky to have a roof over her head.

The doctor’s voice was barely coherent to her as he returned and pressed the cool, damp cloth to her head.

“There, there, Miss Tremayne,” the kindly old man said. “It shall all be better soon.”

Her eyes flew open at once. “Better? But how could any of this possibly get better? He cannot know! Why, I must see to it that he should never replace out!”

The doctor stared at her inquisitively. “Oh come now, why would you say that, Miss Tremayne?”

Lilliana’s cheeks flushed as vivid images of their many nights together filled her mind. “Well, I… you see, Mr. Haven, I…”

But her words failed her. She could not bring herself to confess such a truth that she had been so enthralled by a complete stranger! She would feel nothing short of mortification if she did!

“Oh, Miss Tremayne, you needn’t worry. I should not have pressed as much. ’Tis none of my business, really.”

A slight wave of relief washed over her. At least for the moment, she could keep quiet about her affairs. But what about two weeks from then? Or a month? It would be quite obvious soon enough. She could not hide from reality forever.

Yet, dear God, if only she could…

If only she could go back in time and never have treated Giovanni so! She wouldn’t be in this predicament had she not struck the man.

But, then again…

She would never have found Braxton. Somehow, the thought of living life without him seemed wrong. She wanted him for all her days, basking in all the glory of his stage, and spending lazy Sunday afternoons in his arms. She had never intended to fall in love with him. But somewhere along the way, she’d grown to love the man and all his wicked charms.

Still, she could not tell him this. He would quite possibly throw her out into the streets and to the wolves!

She closed her eyes once more as fear continued to strangle her chest. If only she could just ride out this storm another few weeks, long enough to get the play done and over with. Then she could slip away quietly into the night, never to burden him with the matter. No one needed to be the wiser.

Not one single soul.

– – –

Later that evening, when all was quiet in their bedchamber, Lilliana disrobed, standing in front of the full-length mirror in sheer disbelief. She was not showing yet; a fact she was most pleased with, considering she still had not entirely devised her plan of retreat.

She ran a hand over her belly and wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye as she stared at her reflection. She’d never considered being a mother. Not even once.

Now, she’d have to learn a new role. Except there was no script to this particular saga.

It would be all impromptu, stumbling and ambling around until she got herself to rights. But she’d never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter how vastly different the role may be.

Her solemn countenance quickly turned a slight grin as she thought of what the baby would be. Of course, if she had her druthers, she would wish for a girl, a tiny version of herself who’d always be dancing and singing. She would forever be the star in Lilliana’s eyes, and perhaps, someday, the star of her very own show, lest she follow in her mother’s footsteps.

Yes, it could be a magical feeling to bless the world with this sweet babe, a child of her very own.

If only it weren’t so terrifying.