This is all my fault, Bates berated himself as Anna dropped to her knees over the bucket again. It had only been one slip, and he was the one to blame for it, but it was Anna who would be paying for his mistake. Not knowing what else to do, he rubbed her shoulders and back soothingly as she retched, and handed her his own handkerchief when she stood up again and leaned against the wall.
"I'll be alright soon," she said, catching his worried look. "The sickness will pass."
"Try not to cry, or Mrs. Hughes will guess something's up," he said, hating himself for pushing her to be stoic, wishing he could hold her and let her cry instead, but he daren't. Not here, not when they ran the risk of being discovered. She nodded, knowing that at all costs, she had to keep Mrs. Hughes from finding out.
"Anna," he continued, knowing he couldn't leave her with a cold 'don't cry'. "We're in this together, I promise. Meet me in the courtyard tonight?"
She nodded, not daring to speak, and made a little motion with her hand that he knew meant she wanted him to leave. Silently, he turned and made his way back to the house, planning how best to divert Mrs. Hughes' attention until Anna could recover herself and return to the house without her absence being noticed.
The word baby thundered in his ears the rest of the day. There was no way he and Anna could raise this child together, not with the shadow of Vera looming. This, if it ever got out, would be the proof of adultery needed for a divorce, but there was no way Vera would grant it under these circumstances –and he had no wish to drag Anna's name through the mud either. Anna. How could they find a way through this without Anna losing her place? Although he suspected Mrs. Hughes guessed their attraction to each other, he doubted she had guessed the extent of it.
Not that he would expect Mrs. Hughes to be sympathetic. He was, in the eyes of the law, still a married man. Regardless of their particular circumstances, he knew that Mrs. Hughes would not see this pregnancy –and the act that led to it –as anything but highly immoral. Could he convince her and Mr. Carson that it had only been the once? Could he convince them that he was at fault, not Anna?
He knew his line of thought was futile. No exceptions could be made, not even for Anna. A pregnant housemaid –an unmarried one at that –was an impossibility. Not for the first time, he cursed Vera. If only she would agree to grant the divorce, he could marry Anna the very next day. Even if it were obvious that the baby had been conceived out of marriage, that would be quickly forgiven once he had made things right by marrying Anna. Briefly, he wondered if Vera could be persuaded to agree to the divorce if he went to see her in person, begged her on his knees to free him?
Only one thing was certain. He could not force Anna to get rid of this child. If that was what she wanted, he would go with her, would pay for the procedure and be her shoulder to cry on afterwards, but only if it was what she wanted. Whatever Anna wanted, that was what he would do. If she wanted to keep this child, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen.
Anna was already at the table when he went in for the servants' dinner. He noted with relief that she looked less pallid than she had earlier that day. Briefly, he dared to hope she was mistaken –maybe there was no baby after all?
While Anna was speaking to Mrs. Hughes, Bates dared to sneak a glance at Anna's stomach. There was no swell visible under her severe black dress –he supposed it was early days yet too, if there really was a child? Although he hoped she was worrying over nothing, he knew Anna well enough to know that she wouldn't worry over this, wouldn't even have said anything to him, if she wasn't certain.
He watched her while she ate, noting that she ate slowly, eating the potatoes and vegetables but leaving the meat on her plate. The talk turned to war: William had heard that a friend of his from the village had been injured in action, and was desperate to enlist, unable to understand how he hadn't been called up yet.
"Consider that a blessing, lad," Bates said as he sat next to William later, waiting for his Lordship to ring for him. "The horrors of war aren't something you want to rush into."
While William pondered that –Bates would wager that soon, William would want to know exactly what it was that he had seen and done in the Boer War –Bates' mind went back to Anna and the baby –their baby, he reminded himself. With all the news of men being killed at the front, maybe Anna could pass herself off as a war widow?
The meal was barely over when Anna excused herself, claiming that she had some work to finish upstairs before dressing the young ladies for dinner –although Bates thought it more likely that she had been struck by another bout of sickness. There was no excuse he could make to follow her out, so he had to sit anxiously at the table until Lord Grantham rang for him. Unable to resist, he walked to Lord Grantham's dressing room via the ladies' corridor, where the buzz of voices coming from Lady Mary's room indicated that Anna and the Crawley daughters were most likely in there. Nothing sounded amiss, however, and he had to console himself with the thought that if Anna was in there, any sickness had passed and she was feeling relatively well.
Although, he thought, a few more episodes like this morning's and it's only a matter of time before someone else finds her and guesses.
Anna reappeared downstairs once the family had gone in to dinner, but neither of them dared speak to the other. Making small talk seemed impossible, but it was equally impossible to speak about what was at the forefront of their minds in the middle of the servants' hall. While Bates read quietly, Anna brought out a length of cloth and continued working on a new dress –one for herself, for a change. They hadn't been there for very long when William reappeared, red-eyed and obviously upset.
"William! What on earth's the matter?" Mrs. Hughes asked.
"Mr. Carson sent me down here to –to calm down," William explained. "His Lordship's guest, Lord Anglesworth –he said it's cowardly for an able young man not to be in uniform... but I want to sign up, it's just my father won't let me." His bottom lip started to quiver and he turned away, embarrassed to be seen so close to tears.
"It's alright, William," Anna said soothingly, standing up and leading William to a seat further down the table, where he could turn and face away from the rest of the staff. Seeing Anna's effort to save William from further embarrassment, Bates turned to speak to Mrs. Hughes, trying to draw Ethel into the conversation too, so Anna and William could speak –he presumed Anna was trying to convince William that his bravery was not being called into question –without being overheard.
By the time William had composed himself, dinner was nearly over, and Anna and Ethel disappeared to turn down the beds. Anna didn't return downstairs after that, and she still wasn't back by the time Bates had finished with Lord Grantham.
"Strange how Anna's not finished yet," Mrs. Hughes said as she sent Ethel up to bed.
"Maybe she went straight up to bed?" Bates suggested, hoping that this wasn't the case.
"I doubt that," Mrs. Hughes said, indicating Anna's sewing, which was still as she had left it when she stood up to comfort William. "It's quite unlike her to leave her things lying around before retiring for the night." She and Mr. Carson disappeared into his pantry for their customary glass of sherry, leaving Bates sitting at the table wondering how long to wait before assuming Anna wasn't going to meet him after all.
Maybe she doesn't want to speak to me at all?
"I thought you weren't coming," he said, turning his head to look at her when he heard her footsteps coming towards him.
"Lady Sybil was in a chatty mood," she said by way of explanation. "Has everyone else gone to bed?"
"Almost everyone," he said. "Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson are in his pantry and goodness knows where Miss O'Brien is, but I think all the others have gone upstairs. Shall we go outside? I'll leave Mr. Carson a note saying that I'll lock up tonight." Despite the chill in the courtyard, he didn't want to risk the housekeeper or butler overhearing their conversation.
"Now," he said softly once Anna was settled at his side. "What's this about a baby?"
In the dim light, he could see her lip begin to quiver, and he pulled her gently towards him so her head rested on his chest and he could wrap his arms around her.
"I don't know what to do," Anna whimpered through the tears that were seeping into his shirt. "I'm scared."
"I know you must be," he said. "But you don't have to be. We're going to face this, whatever we decide to do, together. I'm not going to leave you to deal with this alone."
"What does Clarkson say?" he asked once her tears had subsided, though he still kept both arms securely round her.
"I haven't been to see Dr. Clarkson," Anna admitted. "You know he'd tell Mrs. Hughes, and I'd be out of here the same day."
"Then... how can you know for sure?" Bates asked awkwardly, knowing this was a delicate subject and not wanting to embarrass her.
"I'm almost certain," Anna said, unable to meet his gaze. "I have... most of the symptoms." She blushed as she said this, hoping he wouldn't press her for details.
"I believe you," he said. "But, next time you're in Ripon, would you go and see a doctor –one who doesn't know you, so Mrs. Hughes won't find out?"
"Will you... will you come with me?" Anna asked in a small voice, lifting her eyes to meet his.
"If you want me to, I will," Bates promised. "I'll do whatever you want me to."