The Dutiful Wife

The Dutiful Wife by Penny Jordan Page A

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Authors: Penny Jordan
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it clear that they could not have a child.
    She had given him her promise that they would not, not knowing then that it was already too late and she had already conceived. Might have conceived, she corrected herself. She had no proof that she had other than her fear caused by the fact that she had now missed two periods. She didn’t feel pregnant, and she certainly didn’t want to be pregnant. But what if she was? She needed to know. She needed to find out the truth—and that could not be done here in Arezzio, where they lived in a closed community in which there still lived a doctor with the title of Royal Court Physician. A bubble of tormentedanxiety tried to turn into hysterical panicky laughter in her throat, only for her to ruthlessly suppress it.
    She could not carry on like this, not knowing—like a terrified teenager, unable to face the potential consequences of an unwanted pregnancy. These days, though, most modern teenagers were probably far more aware and responsible than she was being, Giselle told herself. She was the one who had been naïve, who had been trying to bury her head in the sand and wanting the whole situation to simply go away. She couldn’t do that any longer, though. Not now. She must find out the truth and if necessary act on it.
    For that she needed the anonymity of a big city—London—with medical facilities that would enable her to find out the truth discreetly. And just as discreetly to make arrangements to bring an end to any unwanted pregnancy? Giselle shuddered.
    Because she had always assumed that she would never be pregnant she had never given much thought to the termination of pregnancy, other than to feel sorry for those women who for one reason or another felt it necessary to go through with it. Such a prospect had always seemed distant from her—the kind of awful decision she would never have to make. But now she might have to. That thought only increased her fear and despair.
    She felt so afraid and vulnerable that she wanted desperately to cling to Saul, be protected by his presence. But that wasn’t possible. Saul could not protect her from what she might be facing. She needed to go to London.
    She brought up the subject over lunch—a quick salad and sandwich affair, eaten in the courtyard whilst she and Saul went over the progress being made with the orphanage, and other problems still to be dealt with.
    ‘I could do with a few days in London—to collect some more of my clothes and then to go up to Yorkshire to see my great-aunt,’ she told Saul as casually as she could. ‘There’s no need for you to come with me.’
    ‘I need to set up some meetings in London myself. I can deal with most of my work involving the business here, but I do need to see some people it will be easier to meet up with in London,’ Saul responded—so easily that her deceit was even more painful to bear. ‘So we might as well go together.’
    Dry-mouthed, Giselle nodded her head. She dared not insist that she wanted to go on her own. That was bound to have Saul asking her more questions than she could answer—especially when normally she always wanted them to do things together.
    They flew into London by private jet two days later, and Giselle had to struggle to conceal her relief when Saul asked, when they sat together in the back of their chauffeur-driven car as it left Heathrow for the city, if Giselle would mind going to their Chelsea house without him. He wanted to be dropped off at the office, so that he could get straight to work there.
    ‘I shouldn’t be too long,’ Saul told her. ‘Shall we eat out tonight? I’ll get Moira to book us a table somewhere. Is there anywhere you’d prefer?’
    ‘No, you choose,’ Giselle told him. Inwardly, all she could really think about was her need to buy herself apregnancy testing kit—and the sooner the better. She didn’t want to ask the driver to drop her off at the nearest chemist, and she couldn’t even risk using a chemist local

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