Yasmin fiddled with her fork. She had thought that perhaps if she wrote to Giles saying that she loved him, he would answer. In that case, she wouldn’t have to inform him that they had to marry because of the babe. It was so mortifying.

She and Giles could no longer break the engagement; she was carrying a child.

Yasmin shook her head. Across the table, Jake was piling scrambled eggs scattered with chives on his plate. The odor was revolting. “If you’ll forgive me,” she gasped, jumping to her feet.

She was barely in her room before she fell on her knees before the chamber pot. She didn’t realize Cleo had followed her until her friend draped a cool, damp cloth on the back of her neck.

Yasmin bit back a sob. “I peed in that pot last night.” She started sobbing. “Now I cast up my accounts on top, which is revolting. I almost never cry!”

Cleo curled an arm around her waist and pulled her to her feet. “Goodness me, you’re tall. Almost as tall as I am, aren’t you? Come over here.” She led Yasmin to an armchair and pushed her into it without ceremony.

Turning away, she dropped another linen cloth in the basin and wrung it out. “For your forehead. Now, where’s your fiancé?”

“In London,” Yasmin said, her voice breaking. “I wrote him a letter breaking off our engagement before I knew I was carrying a child. Since then, I’ve written letters that he hasn’t answered. I had the groom deliver a letter to his house, but he didn’t answer that either.”

“Well, spit!” Cleo exclaimed.

Yasmin blinked.

“Vastly improper American slang that Merry taught me,” Cleo explained. “I don’t know Lilford terribly well, but this isn’t characteristic behavior, is it?”

Yasmin shook her head. “I wrote one letter that I would give anything to take back,” she blurted out. “Two, actually. First, I broke off our engagement. Then I . . . I told him how I felt about him. Now I’m so humiliated. Of course, I put him on the spot, and he wouldn’t have liked that.”

“Do you love him?”

Yasmin nodded. “I just wish I hadn’t told him.”

“Does he know of the babe?”

“No.” She took a deep breath. “I hoped he would marry me for a better reason.”

“I shall send my husband to fetch your future husband,” Cleo said, dusting her hands together. “Lilford has no choice about marriage now that you’re carrying a child. His lordship can explain his correspondence failures in person.”

Pure humiliation made tears press on Yasmin’s eyes again. “Your husband has more important things to do.”

“He will understand,” Cleo said. “Happy marriages require conversation. Misunderstandings cannot be allowed to fester.”

“Giles is tremendously busy in the House of Lords. He puts things . . . me . . . out of his mind when he’s working.”

Cleo frowned.

“He divides his life into boxes,” Yasmin said, knowing how foolish it sounded. “I suspect my box is stored in a far corner. The attic, perhaps.”