Nanny arranged a meeting at a small, intimate restaurant. Unsurprisingly, Natasha had a restless night. Within minutes of rising, she reached for the basin beneath their bed and ran into the next room. She was kneeling on the floor by the sofa with her hand on her stomach when Stewart handed her a wet cloth.
“I don’t recall a time seeing you as ill.”
She took the cloth, wiping her face and then her mouth.
“I am dreading the visit with Mother,” she informed him, justifying her queasy stomach.
“You’re shivering.” He left her and returned with a shawl, placing it around her shoulders.
“Were you up through the night? I didn’t hear you.”
“I was restless, but my stomach wasn’t upset. I became nauseous when I crawled out of bed. I will be fine once I see Mother. I beg of you, go,” she pleaded as she waved him away with her fingers.
With her hands supporting the basin, she leaned over it once more.
* * *
Attired in a plain yellow dress, Natasha sat on the sofa nursing a cup of tea as they waited for Nanny to arrive. With a kiss on her forehead, and words of comfort and support from Stewart, Natasha fastened the ribbon of her large bonnet under her chin and followed Nanny to the carriage.
Once they arrived at their destination Natasha removed her bonnet, stepped onto the ground, and led the way into the small room with Nanny two paces behind. Entering the room, an atrocious aroma turned her stomach. Natasha could only pray she would not lose the small amount of food she had managed to consume that morning while in her mother’s presence.
Sitting proudly in a shimmering beige dress complemented by a pearl necklace, her mother sipped her tea, appearing quite pleased. The greeting was strained, like strangers meeting. Natasha sat on the chair on the other side of the table, allowing Nanny to sit between them. Cups of tea were placed in front of her and Nanny. The server discretely disappeared.
Appreciating the Donovan bold and blunt approach, she looked into her mother’s eyes. Natasha chose her words very carefully.
“I have fallen in love,” she said very softly. “I’m certain you and Father will approve once you meet him. He’s intelligent and comes from a well-established family.”
“Where does his family rule?”
Natasha scowled. Nanny had spoken with her mother regarding the relationship. Nothing had changed. Stewart did not have royal heritage. With her entire being she wished she was able to respond with a title prince or duke. Her deception would be detected in a moment though. Her mother would return to the castle, inform her father of the news, and the truth would be revealed before the sun set.
“They do not rule,” she said boldly. “He was raised by a middle—”
“You are infatuated, but will tire of him,” her mother declared, disappointment strong in her eyes and tone.
“I’m not infatuated, Mother,” she argued, tired of the term. “I love him.” Careful not to use Stewart’s name or any reference to his family, she continued, “He wishes to meet with Father to ask for my hand in marriage.” Her stomach churned. She clamped her lips shut. The smell within the building was dreadful, getting worse. Thankful for the table concealing the lower portion of her torso, she placed her hands on her stomach, willing it to calm. “I beg of you, speak to Father.”
“Your father should have insisted upon your immediate return to the castle,” her mother responded. “You are wasting your time, and mine, with such foolishness. Once you return, you shall forget the young man.”
“Mother, please,” she begged. “Speak with Father. We wish to have his blessing.”
“Do not play the fool, Natasha. It does not become you.”
Furious, Natasha glared at her mother. Although she appeared to be listening, it was apparent she was not. “I’m not the fool, Mother,” she responded angrily. “I ask for one thing, and one thing only—freedom to be with the man I love.”
Without touching her tea, Natasha pushed herself away from the table. She stood and stalked toward the door.
“Natasha.” Her mother’s voice demanded obedience.
She ignored the summons and continued walking.
“Anna….” Nanny intervened.
The door closed behind Natasha. She rushed back to the carriage and asked the driver to take her home.
Bolting in the door, she dashed to the basin in the bedroom. After losing the contents in her stomach, she saw Stewart standing by the door.
“It was a long morning,” she informed him. “I left Nanny with Mother and travelled back alone.”
“I’m to assume the meeting did not go well.”
Natasha shook her head.
“It did not. With your family, it is clear your parents are in love. I question whether Mother and Father are even friends. They are not concerned if their children find happiness. My humble apologies, Stewart. This living arrangement will not change anytime soon.”
“I have had time to think while you were away. A long walk and fresh air was needed to see my way clear of this quandary. Our financial situation is temporary. I shall deal with that, but I will not continue to deceive my parents. We shall visit, speak with them, and tell them the truth.”
Stewart’s determination was evident in his tone. It was not a conversation she wished to have.
“We shall speak with Nanny,” she agreed, trying to avoid more discussion.
“We are not requesting permission, Natasha. We are going to tell the truth.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “My parents will be informed of your name and the fact you deceived me.”
Natasha turned her head away from Stewart. They will hate me for lying to them and their son. How could they ever respect or trust me again after this? He went to her side, knelt down, and placed his hand on her back.
“You must trust them, Natasha. Both Momma and Poppa have a kind, compassionate heart. They will forgive both of us.”
“Perhaps after speaking with your family, my stomach will settle.”
Waving her fingers, she attempted to get Stewart to leave the room. He didn’t have time to stand before she leaned over the basin.
“I shall send for the doctor in the morning,” he informed her. “You are far too ill for this condition to be only the flu.”
* * *
Natasha woke Sunday morning to the aroma of coffee and toast. Nauseated, she jumped out of bed and reached for the basin. She noticed Stewart appear by the sofa.
“Shall I send a telegram and postpone our visit?” he asked sympathetically.
“No,” she moaned. “Prolonging the inevitable won’t help. I hope once your parents are informed of the truth my stomach will settle. I’m dreading their reaction.”
“You’re dreading it?” he repeated with a trace of irony. “I’ve been deceiving them as well. They’ll be disappointed…,” he paused to consider his words, “devastated by the revelation.”
“Tell me truthfully, what are your hopes?”
Stewart entered their room and knelt down beside her, placing his hands on her shoulders.
“Trust me. They love you like a daughter. They will forgive you. Forgive us. May I hold you?”
Natasha closed her eyes, shook her head, and gripped the basin.
“Natasha, you need to see a doctor. You’re not well.”
“You must believe me when I say it is my nerves.”
“Your nerves never affected you this way in all the time you left the castle grounds to come and see me. It is not pleasing to see you this sick.”
“I appreciate your concern, but my stomach will settle once we speak with your parents.”