Perhaps two or three children.
A life that didn't require her to wake each morning wondering whether someone powerful could take everything away.
But the man she loved had betrayed her.
And now the child she carried had become part of a struggle she barely understood.
His name was Edmund Vale.
He was forty-one, charming, wealthy, and connected to one of the most influential commercial families in St. Louis.
Clara met him while working as a private secretary and household companion for his widowed aunt.
At first, Edmund treated her with courtesy.
He asked about the books she read.
Remembered her opinions.
Brought her small gifts.
And seemed unusually interested in a woman whose position placed her far below his social circle.
Clara had been cautious.
She knew wealthy men sometimes pursued working women without intending anything honorable.
But Edmund told her he was unmarried.
He spoke of loneliness.
Of family expectations.
Of wanting a wife who valued him for himself rather than his inheritance.
He courted her privately for months.
He took her walking in public gardens.
Sent letters.
And spoke of a future in which they might leave St. Louis and establish a home somewhere quieter.
Clara believed him.
Not because she was foolish.
Because he gave her reasons to trust him.
He was attentive.
Patient.
And skilled at making promises sound like confessions.
By the time she learned the truth, she was already pregnant.
Edmund wasn't free to marry her.
He was engaged to the daughter of a powerful banker.
The engagement had been arranged through family connections and business interests.
He hadn't mentioned it.
When Clara confronted him, he tried to explain.
He said the arrangement meant nothing.
That he would find a way out.
That she needed to be patient.
For two weeks, she wanted to believe him.
Then his attorney arrived at the boardinghouse.
The man carried a document.
A proposed financial settlement.
Clara would receive money.
Enough to leave St. Louis.
Enough to live quietly for several years.
In exchange, she would agree not to make public claims against Edmund or his family, and she would cooperate with arrangements concerning the child after birth.
The language was carefully written.
But one provision terrified her.
It contemplated placing the baby with a family approved by Edmund's representatives.
Clara read the page.
Then looked toward the attorney.
"You're asking me to give away my child."
He smiled politely.
"Miss Bennett, no one is asking you to do anything unreasonable."
She stared.
He continued.
"We are offering you security."
She looked toward the document.
"And what does the child receive?"
The attorney folded his hands.
"A respectable upbringing."
Clara felt sick.
"With strangers?"
"With suitable people."
She shook her head.
"No."
The attorney sighed.
"Miss Bennett, you must understand your position."
She stared.
He continued.
"Mr. Vale's family has obligations. There are reputations to consider."
Clara placed the document on the table.
"My baby is not a reputation."
The man's expression hardened.
He stood.
"I suggest you think carefully."
She didn't answer.
He gathered his papers.