CHAPTER 22

A few days later, Julia stood beneath the oak tree on the corner of the church property, seeking relief from the hot sun. It was a quiet Monday afternoon, and in the heat of the midday, not many people were out walking. The church itself stood as a silent sentinel, empty of worshipers for the time being.

Yesterday morning, when Julia and Mrs. Middleton had attended service here, Julia had encountered Mrs. Chamberlain with Quinn and Harry. Harry had been enthusiastic to see Julia again, and it had done her heart good to see the improvement in the lad.

However, the awkwardness between her and Quinn had left Julia with a huge knot of regret in her stomach.

She’d had a few days to process all the things he’d told her during their last conversation. And when all was said and done, Julia believed him. Believed that the farm might have started out being his initial motivation to find her, but that his growing feelings for her had made him rethink the situation. The fact that he cared for her was evident. Not even he could be that great an actor. And in the end, he’d left without trying to convince her to come home or to coerce her to disclose the reason why she needed to stay. Overall, Quinn had treated her with nothing but respect.

Well, except for stealing that last kiss.

The more she considered Mrs. Middleton’s advice, the more she came to believe that the woman had a point. Maybe Quinn should know the truth. She’d discovered his secret, and they’d gotten through that. And as scary as it would be to tell him, perhaps he deserved to know hers. That way, nothing would remain unsaid between them.

When the service had ended and the congregation filed out into the vestibule of the church, Julia followed Quinn outside.

“I have something I need to tell you,” she’d whispered. “But not with so many people around. Could you meet me here tomorrow around two o’clock?”

He had frowned, glancing over in Harry’s direction, but at last he’d nodded. “Very well. Two o’clock.”

Now, after pacing the walkway for twenty minutes, Julia looked up at the clock tower. Ten minutes past two. Perhaps Quinn had decided not to come after all. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t, since it would save her from having to see the shock and disappointment on his face when she told him about her pregnancy.

She blew out a long breath. She’d better get used to being the object of people’s disgust, for once everyone learned of her condition—which was becoming harder to conceal by the day—it would become an all-too-common reality.

“Hello, Julia.”

She whirled around to see Quinn standing on the sidewalk. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, so solid and familiar. His serious gray eyes studied her, as if he might be able to determine what she was about to disclose.

“Quinn. I thought maybe you weren’t coming after all.”

“The walk took longer than I anticipated. I decided to forgo the streetcar today.”

She wanted to ask why but pressed her lips together. He was here now, that was all that mattered. Best to get the conversation over with.

“I thought we could sit on the garden bench.” It was tucked far enough out of the way that any pedestrians wouldn’t notice them there.

Quinn followed her across the short span of lawn to a spot near the rectory where roses, dahlias, and an assortment of wildflowers grew in profusion. Apparently, the garden had belonged to the minister’s wife, and ever since her death, he’d kept it up in her memory.

Julia took a seat. Quinn sat at the opposite end of the bench, putting as much space between them as possible. She lifted her chin, not wanting him to see how much that hurt. The last time they’d been together, he couldn’t sit close enough to her. But perhaps given the nature of the impending conversation, it was for the best.

A pair of squirrels dashed across the lawn and up the tree trunk, causing the leaves to rustle.

“What is it you wish to say, Julia?” Quinn faced forward, looking out at the street.

This was it. Time to bare her soul. She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “I didn’t like the way our last conversation ended,” she said slowly. “After all you’ve done for me, I owe you a better explanation for my actions.” She paused to glance over at him, willing him to look at her, but he continued to stare straight ahead. “The truth is, I’ve been keeping something from you, something I’ve dreaded having to tell you.” Her heart beat too quickly in her chest. She inhaled deeply, but no amount of air would help.

He turned to look at her. “You needn’t be afraid to tell me anything.”

The affection and longing in his eyes threatened to undo her tightly held control. “I am afraid,” she said, “because once you know, you’ll never think of me the same way again.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, determined to get through this without resorting to tears.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

“Very well.” She twisted her clammy hands together on her lap. “The reason I can’t go back to England, and why I can’t entertain any sort of relationship with you, is because . . .” She exhaled, her heart pounding. “I’m pregnant.” The words seemed to hang in the air. She gazed down at the grass beneath her feet, unable to bear the shock that must be evident on his face.

After several long seconds, she turned to look at him.

He stared at her, looking as though someone had just punched him. “You’re pregnant?” A host of emotions raced across his features—shock, anger, and then hurt.

She nodded. “Almost five months along.”

A few beats of silence ensued, broken only by the twitter of some nearby birds.

“Wh-who is the father? Was it Sam?”

Julia hung her head. “No.”

“Then who else—” He stopped abruptly. “That doctor. The one you were so frightened of. Is it him?” Disbelief rang in his voice.

She nodded again, her throat too tight to form a reply.

Quinn jumped up from the bench and began to pace the lawn. “Did that cretin force himself on you?” Rage leapt behind his eyes. He looked like a wild man, bent on revenge.

She gripped her fingers together. It was imperative to keep control of her emotions. No matter what, she had to keep Quinn from seeking retribution on her behalf.

“It was my fault for trusting him.” Julia released a shaky breath. “He’d never given any indication. . . .” She paused. That wasn’t entirely true. In hindsight, when she recalled several of their conversations, she recognized times she’d ignored comments that no married man should have uttered. She’d learned too late that just because she viewed Dr. Hawkins as a father figure didn’t mean he felt the same. “I never imagined he would take advantage of me that way.” A shudder rippled through her as unbidden memories surfaced. The man’s hands on her body. His lips assaulting her face and neck. Even the amount of medication she’d been on couldn’t make her forget those horrid sensations.

“Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?” Though his voice was low, tension emanated from him.

She hesitated, her stomach churning. The last thing she wanted to do was relive the experience, but she owed him the truth, as much as she could remember.

“The day after Sam died, I was still distraught, despite the pills Dr. Hawkins had given me.” She took out her handkerchief from her handbag, certain she would need it. “Sam’s cousin ordered me to pack my bags and leave the premises. I told him I had nowhere to go, but he didn’t care. He said his solicitor would be by the next day to make sure I’d left.” A soft breeze ruffled Julia’s skirt and lifted her hair from her neck. “Dr. Hawkins came to see how I was doing and found me beside myself—nearly hysterical, I’m ashamed to say. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Sam still owed me a month’s wages, and without it, I had very little to live on.” She twisted the handkerchief between her fingers. “Dr. Hawkins tried to comfort me. Gave me another pill and insisted I drink some brandy to calm my nerves.” She shrugged. “I figured since he was a physician, I could trust his judgment, so I did as he said.”

Quinn paused in front of her. “Pills and liquor? What was he thinking?”

“He seemed so caring, like he truly understood what I was going through. I remember sobbing on his shoulder . . . and then not much else after that.” Her account wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, but Julia didn’t wish to impart any of the more sordid details she could recall. She sucked in a breath. “When I vaguely realized what was happening, I wanted to do something. Scream for help. Anything. But it was as if my bones had turned to jelly. I couldn’t even speak, let alone fight him off.” Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes. She blotted them with her handkerchief. “I should never have taken those pills. I should have recognized his true intent earlier.”

“That’s not true. He took advantage of you, Julia. He should be arrested and lose his license to practice medicine.” Veins stood out in Quinn’s neck, and his fists were clenched.

Julia swallowed hard, forcing back the tears. “I don’t remember much of anything until I woke up the next morning. I felt terrible. My head hurt, my mouth was dry, and I was sick to my stomach.”

“Were you alone?”

“Yes. I got cleaned up and started packing. Before I was done, the solicitor came to the door, telling me I had to vacate the premises. He waited until I had all my belongings together and escorted me off the property.”

“What did you do then?” Quinn stood above her, his figure casting a shadow over the bench.

“I went to see Dr. Clayborne.” Her mouth curved slightly at the memory of his kindness. “He took me home to stay with his wife and infant daughter. They let me live there for a few weeks until I got my bearings.” She sighed. “You know the rest of the story.”

Julia sagged back against the wooden bench. She felt deflated, now that her secret was out, yet relief eluded her.

If only she could really know what Quinn was thinking.

Pregnant!

Quinn strode over to the nearby tree and stared blindly across the street in an attempt to process all Julia had told him.

She’d been assaulted and was now expecting Dr. Hawkins’s baby. No wonder Quinn had gotten such a bad feeling from the man when he met him.

Quinn took a few breaths until he felt calmer, then turned to face Julia, noting for the first time her expanding waistline. How had he not noticed it before? “The day at the hospital with Harry,” he said, “was that the first time you’d seen him since the . . . incident?”

She nodded.

A muscle tightened in his throat. “So that’s why you pretended we were a couple.”

“Yes.” She raised tortured eyes to his. “I knew he’d been trying to find me, and I hoped if he thought I was with someone else, he’d leave me alone.”

“He doesn’t know about . . . ?” The words lodged in his throat.

“No.” She lifted her chin. “And if I have my way, he never will.”

Quinn stared at her, unblinking, his jaw tight. A thousand questions overwhelmed him, but he forced himself to slow his racing thoughts, mindful of the delicate nature of the situation.

He returned to the bench and resumed his seat. They sat in silence until he took in a deep breath and turned toward her. “Did you ever consider going to the authorities?” he asked.

She lowered her head, fiddling with the fringe on her bag. “When I was safe at Dr. Clayborne’s, I did consider it.” She paused, seeming to search for the right words. “But I realized it would be difficult to prove. It would be his word against mine. And who would believe me, a foreigner with no credentials, over a well-respected physician with deep ties to the community?” She shook her head sadly. “No one.”

A primal urge to scream rose in Quinn’s chest at the unfairness of the situation. Where was justice in all this? Why did a man like Hawkins get to walk away from his crimes free and clear, while Julia would feel the repercussions for the rest of her life? He huffed out a frustrated breath. “I understand. Though I don’t like it. Not one bit. That miscreant should be in prison for what he’s done.”

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the ugly truth. When he opened them again, he dared voice the other question rattling around in his head. “Are you going to keep the baby?”

Julia hesitated. “I hope to. Mrs. Middleton has agreed to let me stay with her as long as I can do my job. She seems to think I could still perform my duties and that the maid and even Mrs. Neville, the cook, would help out with the baby if need be.”

A mixture of respect and despair wound through his system. Of course she would want to raise her child, no matter who the father was. That spoke to the type of woman Julia Holloway was. One who knew the value of family and how it felt to be parentless.

Unfortunately, it did little to ease his pain, only solidifying the fact that her future would follow a very different path than either of them had imagined. A path that, for the foreseeable future, he couldn’t see intersecting with his own.

Perhaps down the road, when he had his family settled, he could consider returning to find her, but how long that would be he had no idea. And it wouldn’t be fair to put both their lives on hold for a whisper of a possibility.

Quinn rose stiffly from the bench, a terrible ache permeating his chest. How did he say good-bye, knowing that this time it was likely for good? “Thank you for telling me this, Julia. I know how hard it must have been. And I understand now why you feel the need to stay here.” Coming home pregnant and unmarried would only prove the earl’s worst fears had been correct.

Julia rose with him and reached out to grasp his arm, a hint of panic flashing over her features. “Quinn, please don’t say anything to my uncle about the baby. I’ll write to him and let him know.”

He gave a brief nod. “Very well.” With supreme effort, he attempted to corral his emotions behind a neutral façade until he could examine them later in private. He forced himself to look directly into her luminous brown eyes. “I wish you nothing but the best, Julia. You deserve it.”

Pain twisted her features, tears welling in her eyes once more. “I’m so sorry, Quinn. I never meant to hurt you. I hope you believe that.”

He released a breath, closed his eyes again for a brief moment, then nodded. “I believe you. I never wanted to hurt you either. It’s just a shame that . . .” He shook his head. “It’s just a shame is all.”

A silent tear spilled down her cheek.

His heart squeezed with the unfairness of the turn their lives had taken. But there was nothing he could do about it. In a few weeks he’d be on a ship to England, and in a few months she would have a baby. “Good-bye, Julia. Take good care of yourself.”

“Good-bye, Quinn. And thank you for everything. I’ll never forget your kindness.” She stepped away from him, pressing a handkerchief to her mouth.

His eyes misted over. “I’ll be praying for you and for the child. Always.” He gave her one more heart-wrenching look, then spun on his heel and walked away.