The Sun Sister (The Seven Sisters #6) - Lucinda Riley Page 0,155

you had other instances of dizziness recently?’ Ethnie asked.

Cecily was feeling too sick and miserable to lie.

‘A few, yes, but I’m sure it’s just the heat.’

‘Well, my husband will be back in the morning, just to double-check. Better to be safe than sorry, isn’t it? Now, goodnight, Cecily dear,’ she said as they stopped in front of her bedroom door and Ethnie opened it.

‘Goodnight, and thank you so very much for your kindness.’

Sitting down on her bed and drawing down the zip at the side of her dress, Cecily sighed in relief, feeling she could finally breathe for the first time that evening. Once she had slipped into her nightdress, she lay down under the sheet and closed her eyes. Even though the band played on well into the night, Cecily didn’t stir.

She was woken by a knock at the door. With a great deal of effort, she pulled herself into consciousness.

‘Who’s there?’

‘It’s Dr Boyle. May I come in?’

Before Cecily had even answered, the door was opened and there was Dr Boyle with his medical bag.

‘Good morning, Cecily. Feeling any better?’

‘I sure slept well, thank you.’

‘Jolly good. Best cure of all, sleep. Now then, I thought I’d just pop in and take a look at you before I leave.’

‘Honestly, Doctor, I’m fine, and—’

‘I saw Captain Tarquin Price a few minutes ago – after yesterday’s news about Hitler, there’s a pow-wow going on in the Gentlemen’s Bar. He asked whether I’d seen you at last night’s shindig and I told him I had and that you’d felt unwell. Captain Price said that this ailment has been going on for quite some time. So, let’s have a look at you, shall we?’

With a sigh of embarrassment, Cecily submitted herself to being poked and prodded and answered endless questions. Dr Boyle took his stethoscope out of his ears and looked down at her.

‘My dear, are you married?’

‘Why, no, I was engaged up until Christmas, but it was broken off.’

‘Before Christmas, you say?’

‘Yes.’

‘And when did you have your last monthly?’

‘Why, I . . .’ Cecily felt herself blushing. Never once in her life had she talked about those to a man. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘Try to think back.’

Cecily, who had never been “regular” anyway, did so.

‘I believe it would have been just before I left to travel here.’

‘And how long ago was that?’

‘It was the last week of January. So my . . . monthly was about two weeks before.’

‘And, here we find ourselves on the sixteenth of March. Cecily dear’ – Dr Boyle reached for her hand – ‘given your symptoms and having had a good feel of your tummy, I would normally be fairly certain that you are expecting.’

‘Expecting what?’ Cecily stared up at him.

‘A baby.’ Dr Boyle gave her a wry smile. ‘However, given the fact that your engagement to your young man was broken off before Christmas, I am now confused. I will put this as delicately as I can . . . is there a possibility that you could be pregnant?’

‘Oh my . . .’ Cecily put her hands to her face as shock resonated through her body and she wondered if one could faint clean away while lying down.

‘My dear, it is none of my business to ask you about the whys and wherefores, but I would stake my career on the fact that you are a couple of months pregnant. I can see this news has obviously come as a huge shock to you.’

‘Yes,’ Cecily whispered, her hands still over her face, too horrified and ashamed to meet the doctor’s eyes.

‘The good news is that you are most definitely not ill. Captain Price was concerned you may have malaria.’

‘Malaria would have been preferable, Doctor,’ Cecily muttered. ‘I beg you,’ she said, finally taking her hands from her face and looking up at him, ‘please, do you swear never to tell a soul about this?’

‘Patient–doctor confidentiality is guaranteed, my dear. However, I do think it is important you tell someone about your . . . current state of health.’

‘I’d rather die!’

‘I do understand, but let me tell you, living out here and treating my many patients, it is impossible to shock either me or most other people round here too. I would advise you to tell your godmother. Mrs Preston may be many things, but she is a woman of the world and has a kind heart to boot.’

Cecily lay there silently. No words could express her horror and shame.

‘What about the father? Am I to presume he is