Having extracted the promise from Richard, there was nothing Verity wanted more than to be rid of him. However, she did not want to disillusion him of her attitude towards him and send him running home in an angry huff to tell his father, so she tolerated his insistence on riding down to the village to buy her lunch, and went back into the dining room to await his return. The prospect of food was as welcome as the prospect of his company was not.

However, before he could return, she was surprised by the sound of more horses' hooves, and looked out the front window to see Mrs Roper driving up in the servants' buggy.

She went out to meet her, and laughed when she saw the loaded basket of bread and fruit and preserves that she carried with her.

"Armiger will be devastated. He's just gone to get me lunch."

Mrs Roper raised her eyebrows as she followed Verity into the house. "Armiger? Love, love, have you been dreaming?"

"Richard Armiger." Verity snatched a roll of bread from the basket and bit into it as Mrs Roper began to lay out her own tablecloth on the ugly old dining room table. "He followed me here, and -" She chewed fiercely, and swallowed. "He knows."

"He knows?" Mrs Roper began to cut the rolls. "No butter, I'm afraid. But I've apples, and half a ham. I didn't think about food until after you'd left, poor girl, when George told me it wasn't to your grandmother's place. He knows what, and how?"

Verity plunged into another bread roll. This time, she waited just long enough to slather a generous spoonful of raspberry jam on it first. Her hunger was like a dagger in her belly.

"He knows about the baby. He guessed."

"Don't you eat too quick, now. You'll be sick. Slow down. And sit down. I can't believe it. That self-centred boy guessing about a woman's pregnancy – and going to get you lunch on top."

"I fainted," Verity said, finally sinking back into a chair. "I fainted, and I think he was worried – about the baby more than me."

"Aye. You're probably right there. He must know, if it weren't for his meddling, that baby would be heir to his title after him."

"If it's a boy," Verity said quietly. "If it's a boy. But it won't be, now, either way."

With her usual indirect weaving and hopping between conversations, Mrs Roper asked, "You fainted? Hurt yourself?"

"Only when I hit the ground." Verity winced and felt her elbows and thighs, which were beginning to bruise.

"You've been ill – very ill. Here, have some ham. Ill with grief, love. It'll consume you, if you don't keep fighting it. And you can't let it consume you. There's things coming in your life worth living for."

Verity smiled faintly. "I know."

The door opened behind them, and Richard entered. He was carrying a loaf of bread under one arm, and a wheel of cheese under the other.

"Oh," he said, seeing Mrs Roper. His gaze rested on the spread on the table. "Oh."

"Please," Verity said, "I'm very grateful to you. I didn't know she would come."

"No matter. This will keep for you." He came forward, his limp pronounced without his stick to help him. "I can leave it here? There was no way to get milk – where does one get milk in the country anyhow?"

"From cows." Mrs Roper eyed Richard distrustfully. "No. Don't go just yet. Sit down."

"I did buy tea," he said meekly. "As apology for the milk. It's in the saddlebag."

"In that case."

He limped away again. Mrs Roper leaned down towards Verity. "Is he going to tell his father?"

"He has promised me he will not."

"Hmph." Mrs Roper took a crisp bite of an apple, chewed, and swallowed. "Well, he's not the type to make a promise just to break it."

Remembering how she had persuaded him, Verity blushed. Mrs Roper did not need to know about that. Richard returned, and Mrs Roper took the paper packet of tea from him with a business like air.

"And now you sit down while I make tea," she ordered.

He did. He manhandled an apple back and forth between his fingers, but did not speak, or attempt to eat it. Verity ate her fill, and relaxed back in the chair. She was also reluctant to speak. She had said all she wanted to say to Richard. And now that she felt stronger, merely weary and no longer ill, it occurred to her to feel humiliated by his seeing the shabby cottage where she had grown up, and to which she had returned, when she felt she had nowhere else to go.

"I will go to my grandmother's house tomorrow," she said quietly, noticing him staring at the curious rat, which had emerged again from its hole, perhaps in the hope of pinching some lunch. "I will not stay here. I only came to clean up after my father's death."

"You should not be working yourself so hard. I should send the coachman tonight to take you to your grandmother's."

"You shall not. If your father knows you are giving me favours, he will begin to wonder why. No. Lord Landon, after you return to Neil's house, it would be best if you did not contact me at all, or send any servant to aid me. Tomorrow morning, I will walk to my grandmother's, and tell her to send her own coach for my things. A walk shall do me no harm."

She could see Richard did not like the proposal. He was chewing his lip, and twisting the apple rapidly between his two hands. They were not dexterous hands. He fumbled, and the apple went thudding to the floor and rolled off to a corner of the room.

It was Verity who went to pick it up, and put it back on the table. She moved slowly still. Things were no longer spinning, her legs were no longer shaking, but she felt frail and inconsequential, a paper doll of her former self.

"I will feel a lot better tomorrow, Lord Landon," she assured him, seeing his disbelieving gaze as she lowered herself back into the chair. "I have been ill, and am only now recovering, but I am recovering."

Mrs Roper returned with a steaming and chipped kettle in her hands. She put it down and went back for the tea cups.

"I would like to see you again before I leave this town," Richard said, in a low voice. "It is for my peace of mind, not yours. I would like to see you installed somewhere comfortable before I leave."

It irritated Verity, for she was undecided if she really did wish to stay with her grandmother or not. Lady Duvalle did not yet know she was pregnant, and Verity could not be sure what her reaction would be. In the past she had been so often cold and even cruel. During Verity's marriage, she had softened greatly. But Verity was not entirely convinced the softening was due to some growing fondness; rather, she was sure it was a reflection of her rising position in society. And now that position had once again plummeted. He grandmother might not be trustable. She had half a mind to remain at the cottage until Mrs Roper had found a place of her own.

But no doubt if she told Richard that now, he would refuse to leave at all, and might even threaten to break his promise and tell his father about the baby.

Mrs Roper came back with the tea cups and tea plates, precariously stacked into one another. There were no trays in the little cottage.

Verity bowed her head. "The day you leave then, you may call on me in the morning. Do not allow your father to suspect the purpose of your visit. My greatest fear now is that he will learn of this child and try to take it from me."

"Aye," Mrs Roper said grimly, setting down the cups and plates. "Master Richard, she said you'd promised not to tell him?"

"I have promised. And I will not." His voice was decisive. Verity thought she could believe him.

Mrs Roper poured tea. With no milk or sugar or lemon, it would not be the most palatable, but Verity took the hot cup in her cold fingers eagerly.

"So," Mrs Roper said, resting her bulk in a chair that squeaked and squirmed in discomfort beneath it, "You came to tell Miss Verity you knew of the child, and nothing else?"

"He wanted to make sure I would not be falling into disgrace and poverty," Verity said hastily, not wanting Mrs Roper to hear of the strange and unwelcome marriage proposal that had come with it. She fumbled the letter out of her sleeve. "And I shall not. Look. This letter is from my father's bank. The money that Lord Albroke gave him is mostly still intact, and as he is dead, it shall come to me. We shall live together, you and I, on the interest."

"It shall cover the poverty, certainly." Mrs Roper read the letter carefully. "Love, if your father... ah, but there's no point wasting wishes on the past. Richard, how much does this give her in interest each year?"

"I calculated it at three hundred and seventy pounds, give or take a little."

"And I have one hundred of my own. Love, we shall be quite well put up on this. For a while at any rate. The babe must eventually have a dowry or a living."

"It shall be more than fifteen years from now," Richard said eagerly. "By that time, I will likely be in a position to provide more help than I am currently."

Mrs Roper raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. "And will your heart run the same course it is today, in fifteen years?"

"I- well..."

"She is right, Sir," Verity said softly. "Today, you are no doubt still grieving for your brother. You have been feeling strong emotions. In fifteen years, this child may likely be a nuisance to you. Especially as you no doubt will have married, and have children of your own that need their dowries, and their livings. I will not presume to ask you for any promises of the future. We have nearly five hundred pounds a year, together. We shall be able to save much from that. I am accustomed to living within narrower means than this."

Richard had started blushing at the mention of marrying, and was scarlet by the time Verity had finished her speech. "I can see that my every offer of help is merely an encumbrance to you."

Verity winced. He was so touchy. "It is not that. I am merely trying to be realistic about what I can expect."

"There's more help you can give us," Mrs Roper said firmly, distracting them from argument. "Your father does not know that Mr Baker is dead. It would be best if he does not learn of it. I wouldn't put it past him to try and get this money back. You'll not tell him that, and you'll not tell him you visited Verity. If you wish to help, you'll clear him out of this town and try to keep him from coming back. There will be further business, no doubt, with Neil's property. Perhaps you can even persuade him to take care of that yourself, without raising any suspicions of course. The main thing is to keep him away from Verity, and away from Houglen and anything that reminds him of her. That's what we want. Can you help us achieve it?"

Richard looked helplessly from one woman to the other.

"I should be very grateful if you would," Verity said pleadingly.

That was what seemed to decide him. He nodded. "Then I should return at once, for I have been gone a long time and he will wonder."

After he had left, Verity drank the rest of her tea in silence. She was relieved he was gone. Very relieved.

Mrs Roper shook her head. "Love," she said, "That's the first unselfish thing I've seen that boy do for anybody. Wonders will never cease."

~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hello! Another very hastily edited chapter because I'm stuck in a writing writing mood and don't particularly want to edit. This is also a chapter that, if I was editing properly, would have got morphed into the next chapter, and both of them cut down a little. But I'm not editing properly, so please forgive that the pacing has slowed to a crawl for the moment. It'll pick up again to its usual bit-in-the-teeth gallop soon :)

Thanks again for reading :) I <3 you guys