Jemima Hunt, now Jemima, the Duchess of Kent, sat contentedly in the plush armchair of the elegant drawing room. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the exquisite paintings adorning the walls. The air was filled with the scent of freshly cut flowers arranged in delicate crystal vases, adding a touch of natural beauty to the refined space. Her hand instinctively rested on her round belly, where her second child grew steadily, reminding her of the joyous anticipation that filled her heart. Her firstborn, a darling baby boy named Oliver, played at her feet, his laughter echoing through the room. His chubby hands reached for his favorite toy, an embroidered teddy bear, which her dear friend Elena Sherwood had crafted for her when Jemima had announced her first pregnancy.
The sound of the door opening drew Jemima’s attention, and she looked up to see her husband, Lionel, the Duke of Kent, enter the room. He was a vision of masculine grace and refinement, his tall figure exuding a quiet strength that always captivated her heart. His eyes twinkled with love and amusement as he caught sight of their son’s playfulness.
Lionel crossed the room with a purposeful stride, his long strides covering the distance effortlessly. He bent down to place a tender kiss on Jemima’s temple, his lips brushing against her soft, chestnut curls.
“How fares my beloved Duchess and her little prince?” he murmured, his voice filled with love and mischief.
Jemima’s eyes sparkled with delight as she looked up at her husband.
“Your Duchess and her prince are both well, Your Grace,” she replied, her voice tinged with amusement. “Though I must say, your prince is becoming quite the explorer. He has been diligently crawling all over the room, searching for new adventures.”
Lionel chuckled, his laughter resonating through the room like a delightful melody.
“Ah, my son is a true adventurer indeed,” he said with a proud smile. “But how is our littlest one?” His gaze lingered on her belly, filled with adoration and concern.
Jemima leaned into his touch, relishing the warmth of his hand on her arm.
“Fear not, Lionel,” she replied playfully. ” Our little one is thriving within me, eager to join our happy family.”
Lionel’s eyes softened as he traced a gentle path across Jemima’s cheek with his thumb.
“I’m so glad you were a stowaway on my ship and not someone else’s,” he said, just a modicum of teasing in his tone.
“As am I. Let’s hope parenthood is a little less adventurous than crossing the Atlantic and fighting smugglers in Port Royal, though,” she said with a wry smile.
As Lionel settled into the armchair opposite Jemima, Oliver wiggled his way onto his father’s lap, snuggling against his broad chest. Jemima’s heart overflowed with joy as she watched her husband and son, the two most precious beings in her life, share a tender moment.
“Shall I read to you, my little prince?” Lionel asked, his voice gentle and soothing as he turned the pages of the book. Oliver clapped his hands in delight, his eyes fixed on his father’s face, soaking in every word. He read a passage from some sailor’s diary that had been published for a wide readership. Even though Oliver did not quite understand language yet, this book seemed to calm him.
Jemima leaned back in her chair, relishing the sight before her. Her heart swelled with gratitude for the comfortable life they lived, thanks to her generous dowry and the love that surrounded them. She was a Duchess, a wife, and a mother, and her cup of happiness overflowed.
“Do you miss the sea?” she asked when he was finished, and Oliver’s eyelids began to grow heavy with sleep.
Lionel looked wistfully out the window.
“I do miss it sometimes. The sea was my second love,” he said quietly. “But you and the babies, even our unborn one, are my forever loves. I would not trade anything for the happiness I have now.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said with a sweet smile. “And Ellis is a good captain. I’m sure he will keep the Regina in tip-top shape.”
“Oh indeed,” Lionel said, turning back to her. “I would not have trusted her with anyone else. He deserved that promotion.”
Suddenly their precious peace was interrupted as a servant rushed into the room.
“I apologize, your Graces, but you have a visi-” The poor footman could not even finish his sentence before Jemima’s mother spoke, her behavior frenzied. Her curls trembled around her face with agitation.
“Mama, whatever is the matter?” Jemima asked. Normally she would have risen to greet her mother, but she was too pregnant to rise.
Lionel, too, looked alarmed, but Oliver cooed and clapped at the sight of his grandmother.
“All of my children are determined to drive me mad!” she cried, flopping into a chair and whipping out her fan, flapping it rapidly near her face.
“What’s happened, Your Grace?” Lionel asked, bouncing Oliver on his knee.
“You are drawn to scandal like flies to honey! First Ferdinand, then you, and now Sophia has tangled herself in a scandal. What did I do to raise three strong-willed, dramatic children?”
“Mama, we may have all been involved in scandal, but we are all happy, and everything turned out well. Is that not enough?” Jemima asked, rubbing her hand on her belly.
“Oh, how I wish. I fear for poor Sophia’s reputation. She shall never recover!”
Lionel and Jemima exchanged glances at each other, trying not to laugh.
At least their lives would forever be entertaining.
Mary and Redmund accompanied Patience to the grand beginning of her second season in high society. The trio exuded an air of happiness and contentment. Mary, with her pregnancy showing prominently, walked arm in arm with her husband Redmund, while Patience glided gracefully beside them. The ballroom was abuzz with anticipation, and the sound of lively music filled the air.
As they entered the ballroom, Patience could not resist teasing Mary about her pregnancy, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Oh, Mary, it must be a delightful torture being so heavily pregnant at such a grand occasion,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling with playful amusement.
Mary playfully rolled her eyes, her laughter bubbling forth. “You have no idea, Patience,” she replied, a hint of mock exasperation in her voice. “But I would not trade it for anything. Every kick and every discomfort reminds me of the precious little one we are waiting to meet.”
Redmund chimed in, his voice filled with adoration. “Indeed, Mary is a radiant mother-to-be. I cherish every moment of this journey with her.”
Mary secretly hoped for a boy, envisioning adventures and mischief with a little version of Redmund, while Redmund declared his wish for a girl, imagining a precious daughter with Mary’s grace and warmth.
Redmund’s eyes sparkled with affection and anticipation as he engaged in the lighthearted banter about the baby’s gender. With a warm smile, he shared his heartfelt desire.
“You know, Mary, I have this inexplicable longing for a little girl,” Redmund confessed, his voice filled with tenderness. “I imagine her growing up to be a strong and independent woman, just like her mother.”
Mary’s heart swelled with love as she listened to Redmund’s words. She intertwined her fingers with his, feeling the depth of his emotions. “Oh, Redmund, I can envision it too,” she replied, her voice filled with warmth. “A daughter who carries our love and embodies the best parts of both of us. It would be an absolute joy to watch her grow.”
“But, can you imagine the mischief a little boy would get up to?” Mary teased, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes.
Patience joined in the laughter, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Either way, this little one is blessed to have both of you as parents,” she said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. “Or cursed, I suppose. Depending on which way you choose to look at it.”
Mary stuck her tongue out at her friend for teasing her.
Redmund’s gaze softened, his love for Mary evident in his eyes. “I want to be there for her every step of the way,” he continued, his tone filled with determination. “To guide her, support her dreams, and show her that she can achieve anything she sets her mind to. I want to be the father she can always rely on.”
Mary knew how hard it was for him to say that given that his own relationship with his father had not recovered so quickly as the relationships between the three of them standing here today. The duke had a long way to go yet before he and Redmund would be anything resembling close to one another. Still, Mary’s heart swelled with admiration for Redmund’s heartfelt words. “She will be so fortunate to have you as her father,” she said, her voice filled with love and gratitude. “You will be her protector, her confidant, and her rock. Our little girl will know nothing but unconditional love.”
Their hands entwined, Mary and Redmund stood together, their hearts aligned in their hopes and dreams for their future family. In that moment, they both knew that regardless of the baby’s gender, their love would create a nurturing and loving environment for their child to flourish.
As the music swelled and couples began to dance around them, Mary and Patience shared a moment of quiet connection amidst the lively atmosphere. Their friendship had evolved and grown, transcending the trials and tribulations of the past.
“I am so grateful to have you here as my friend, Patience,” Mary said softly, her hand resting on her gently rounding belly. “Through thick and thin, you’ve stood by me, and now we get to celebrate together.”
Patience smiled, her gaze filled with genuine affection. “And I am grateful for you, Mary,” she replied. “You’ve shown me the true meaning of friendship and love. Our journey has been extraordinary.”
Mary and Redmund strolled through the elegant ballroom, their eyes darting from one gentleman to another, each vying for the attention of Patience. It didn’t take long for their playful banter to resurface, igniting a good-naturedargument between them.
Mary’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she pointed towards a distinguished gentleman across the room. “Look, Redmund, there’s Mr. Harrington! He possesses all the qualities that would make him an ideal suitor for Patience. He is well-educated, charming, and comes from a respected family.”
Redmund arched an eyebrow and chuckled, countering Mary’s suggestion. “Ah, but my dear Mary, what about Mr. Aldridge? He may not have the same social standing as Mr. Harrington, but he has a heart of gold. Patience needs someone who will cherish her, support her dreams, and make her laugh. Mr. Aldridge fits the bill perfectly.”
Mary playfully rolled her eyes and nudged Redmund’s arm. “Oh, husband, you always let your romantic heart guide your judgment. But you must admit that Mr. Harrington’s connections and societal standing would offer Patience security and a place among the ton.”
Redmund’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Ah, Mary, my pragmatic wife, you do make a compelling point. But sometimes, love and happiness cannot be measured solely by societal status. Patience deserves a partner who will appreciate her for who she truly is, regardless of her position in society.”
Mary crossed her arms, feigning indignation. “Well, if we are talking about appreciation, let us not forget about Mr. Thompson. His admiration for Patience is evident every time he is in her presence. It is as if he sees her as the sun, radiating warmth and joy in his life.”
Redmund raised his hands in surrender, his laughter bubbling up. “Ah, Mary, you have bested me with that argument. Mr. Thompson’s adoration for Patience is undeniable, and I cannot deny the importance of feeling truly seen and cherished in a relationship.”
Amidst their good-natured argument, Mary and Redmund shared a profound understanding. They both wanted the best for Patience, but they also recognized that true love could not be confined to a list of desirable qualities or societal expectations. It was about finding that person who ignited a spark within Patience’s heart, who brought a smile to her face, and who made her feel cherished and valued.
Patience took a step forward, her expression resolute and determined. She raised her hand, gracefully signaling for their attention, and the room fell into a hushed silence.
“Dear friends,” Patience began, her voice carrying with a newfound strength and conviction, “I appreciate your concern and your well-intentioned opinions. However, this time, I must insist that I be the one to decide my own fate. I have come to realize that true happiness lies in making my own choices, even if they may not align with what others envision for me.”
Her words hung in the air, leaving Mary and Redmund momentarily speechless. They exchanged sheepish glances, recognizing the truth in Patience’s declaration. Their attempts to advocate for their preferred candidates had indeed crossed the line, encroaching upon her autonomy and individuality.
Redmund stepped forward, his voice sincere and apologetic. “Patience, you are absolutely right,” he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. “We should have respected your wishes and recognized that you are more than capable of deciding your own path. Please forgive our overbearing nature.”
Mary nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting a mixture of remorse and admiration for her dear friend. “Patience, we only wanted what we believed was best for you,” she confessed, her voice tinged with regret. “But we failed to consider that your happiness can only be truly fulfilled when you are the one in control of your destiny. Please accept our sincerest apologies.”
Patience’s stern expression softened, and a gentle smile graced her lips. “I appreciate your apologies, my dear friends,” she replied, her voice filled with warmth. “Let us move forward, understanding that our friendship is founded on trust and support. From now on, let us celebrate each other’s choices and be there for one another.”
With their friendship reaffirmed, Mary, Redmund, and Patience shared a heartfelt embrace, leaving behind the playful banter and embracing a newfound understanding. As they rejoined the bustling ballroom, their eyes met with a shared determination to support each other’s individual paths, respecting the autonomy and dreams of one another. Together, they would create a bond strengthened by love, acceptance, and unwavering support.
“Now, if you will excuse me.” Patience curtseyed prettily as she turned to go explore the ballroom on her hunt for a suitor.
Mary and Redmund found themselves amused by their unspoken agreement as they watched Patience engage in conversation with a gentleman across the room. Their synchronized exclamations of “not him!” startled them at first, but then it elicited laughter that could not be contained. The tension that had momentarily lingered dissipated, replaced by the shared joy and camaraderie between Mary and Redmund.
Their laughter echoed through the grand ballroom, drawing the attention of those nearby. Curious gazes turned their way, but Mary and Redmund were oblivious to the onlookers. In that moment, their laughter became a testament to the bond they shared—a bond strengthened by love, friendship, and the freedom to make their own choices.
Patience turned towards them, her eyes lighting up at the sight of their mirth. She joined in their laughter, her own voice mingling with theirs in a harmonious melody of joy. The three friends, connected by their shared history and newfound understanding, embraced the beauty of the present moment.
As the evening unfolded, they continued to dance, engage in animated conversations, and celebrate the freedom and autonomy of their choices. Patience gracefully weaved through the crowd, selecting dance partners of her own choosing, and Mary and Redmund delighted in watching her confidently navigate the social landscape.
Their laughter, a symbol of their renewed friendship and respect for each other’s individual paths, echoed throughout the ballroom. It served as a reminder to all present that true happiness can be found not only in love and romance but also in the unbreakable bonds of friendship and the freedom to determine one’s own destiny.
Mary leaned against Redmund, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as they observed Patience engaging in conversation with various suitors across the ballroom. Redmund wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
Mary teasingly nudged him with her elbow. “Oh, look at her. It seems our dear Patience has quite the admirers tonight.”
Redmund glanced at Mary, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. “Indeed, but none of them stand a chance compared to the radiant beauty standing right here next to me.”
Mary feigned surprise, placing a hand on her chest. “Flattery, my lord? Are you trying to distract me from the fact that we are both keeping a close eye on Patience’s potential suitors?”
Redmund grinned, his voice filled with faux innocence. “Who, I? I am just ensuring that no one unworthy tries to sweep her off her feet.”
Mary tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “And what about you, my dear husband? Are you afraid that someone might try to steal her away from us?”
Redmund chuckled, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Oh, my love, no one could ever steal my attention away from you. Patience may have her suitors, but my heart belongs to you alone.”
Mary blushed, her gaze softening as she locked eyes with Redmund. “And mine belongs to you, now and forever.”
As Patience continued her interactions with suitors, Mary and Redmund remained wrapped in each other’s embrace, secure in the knowledge that their own love story had already reached its perfect ending.
Margery stepped into the Society for the Relief of the Destitute Sick with a newfound sense of purpose. The smell of old books and cold stone walls filled her with a familiar warmth as she looked around at the volunteers bustling about. Though she was now head of the society, Margery was still one of them, just as passionate and dedicated to helping those in need.
Margery had an incredible amount of work to do, but it excited her, knowing that even in some small way, she would be making a difference in people’s lives. As she stepped further into the room, her wedding ring glinted in the light and reminded her why all this hard work was worth it. It was something Ferdinand believed in too. She thought back to their wedding day when he promised to love and honor her until death, and now here they were, two years later, both living out their promises.
Having been raised in poverty herself, Margery felt incredibly blessed to have found someone who shared her drive for giving back to those less fortunate. It made perfect sense that they should take on this new venture together, building a better future for others by leading from example. This life wasn’t easy by any means, but together they could make things better, not only for themselves but for everyone else too.
The sun shone through the window as Margery smiled contentedly at the thought of working alongside Ferdinand again, something far more rewarding than any amount of money could ever bring them. No matter what kind of hardships they faced along their journey together, knowing that they were doing it side by side made it all worth it.
Elated voices followed her as she walked in through the rooms, and Margery felt a wave of warmth wash over her. She made her way to her small office at the back with a satisfied smile.
The smile widened when she opened the door of her office. Ferdinand sat behind her desk, Ivaine next to him. He was reading from a large book on the desk, his deep voice carrying through the office.
“The prince searched the kingdom to find the owner of the glass slipper, and when he arrived at Ella’s home, her stepmother and stepsisters tried to claim the slipper as their own. But when Ella tried on the slipper, it fit perfectly, and the prince knew that she was the one he had been searching for. The prince and Ella lived happily ever after, and her stepmother and stepsisters learned the error of their ways and became kinder people.”
Margery smiled happily at the sight. Soon after their wedding, they had taken on guardianship of Ivaine, and the young girl had blossomed under their care, quickly befriending Sophia as Ferdinand had expected.
Ivaine rushed forward at the sight of Margery, wrapping her arms around the older woman eagerly. Her eyes suddenly widened, and she looked down at Margery’s growing stomach.
“Mother!” she exclaimed eagerly, her eyes shining with joy. “I felt the baby kick!”
Margery moved her hand to rest it on her belly and smiled gently.
“Soon, dearest Ivaine,” she said with a soft smile, “you will have a sister to play with.”
“Oh, we must give her a beautiful name,” Ivaine insisted, “like Elizabeth or Regina or—”
Ivaine’s list was interrupted by Ferdinand’s warm laughter, which boomed through the small office. He stood from his chair and moved towards Margery and Ivaine. He wrapped his arms around his wife and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips.
“It could be a brother,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, and Margery shook her head.
“No, I am quite certain that I am carrying a girl,” she teased, and Ferdinand laughed.
“Well, I will love either a boy or a girl, as long as it is our child.”
Ivaine grinned brightly. “Another young volunteer for the society,” she teased, and Margery nodded.
“Oh, certainly. At the rate with which it is expanding, we will need all the help we can get soon. We have been getting more and more patients from outside the city. Evidently they had heard of us and felt as though we were their best chance of survival. Some of them spent their last bit of money on their fare here.”
Ferdinand lay a palm against Margery’s cheek gently. “And we will help them back on their feet as soon as they have healed,” he promised, and she sighed with a grateful grin.
“How are your parents?” Ferdinand asked now, changing the course of conversation. Margery laughed with a shake of her head.
“Father is not saying much, merely grumbling about the move. Mother, on the other hand, has gone all out with decorations, much to Father’s chagrin. They have finally settled in their new home and are very content with it. How is Jemima fairing?”
Ivaine smiled brightly. “Jemima has been quite a terror, giving all the eligible bachelors a hard time. She is determined to find the perfect match and nothing less.”
Ferdinand laughed, shaking his head. “That’s our Jemima,” he said with a fond smile. “She will give her poor mother a hard time until she finds the one for her.” He patted Margery’s hand gently before leaning in to whisper something in her ear that made her blush fiercely.
“What was that?” Ivaine asked curiously, but Ferdinand merely grinned mischievously and winked at Margery who looked away in embarrassment.
“Never you mind, young lady,” he said with another laugh, patting Ivaine’s shoulder affectionately. “You can rest assured that I pity the poor sod who marries her someday.”
“Ferdinand!” Margery laughed with a shake of her head. “It is Jemima’s every right to consider and choose carefully. It is a lucky man who marries her. She’s quite bright.”
She gestured to Ferdinand, who looked in the direction of the door with a stiff smile.
“Are you heading out?”
He nodded with a deep sigh. “Indeed. Ivaine and I are meeting Uncle Ambrose.”
“Oh!” Margery looked at her husband curiously. “You have been meeting more and more often lately. How have things been going?”
Ferdinand sighed at her question and shrugged.
“It is a process,” he said finally. “A lot has happened, and there is a lot to overcome. Grandfather really did him in. There is still some anger, but we are slowly learning to trust each other.”
Margery nodded slowly. “What about Caitlin and George?”
Ivaine’s face lit up at the mention of George, and she answered before Ferdinand could.
“George is getting more adorable by the day,” she exclaimed. “He is the most precious little thing! You should see his drawings, Mother! And he is talking so much, babbling away happily whenever Father and I visit.”
Margery glanced at her husband who nodded. “Indeed. I hardly recognize the shy, frail boy that he was. He is absolutely blooming. I can see that his father’s presence does him a world of good.”
Margery nodded and smiled up at Ferdinand. “We ought to invite them over for tea. They are family after all.”
“Yes,” Ferdinand agreed with a smile, “they are family. I shall invite them today.”
Margery watched with a peaceful grin as her husband and daughter left, and she moved to sit down behind her desk.
The office was a cozy and inviting space, filled with family portraits and knick-knacks. It felt like home, more so than any other place she had ever been. On the walls were paintings made by her daughter and some other patients.
As she looked around at it all, Margery realized that she finally had everything she’d ever wanted: a space where she could help others and make the world a better place. She had love and joy, everything one could wish for in life. Looking out of the window at the landscape outside, Margery smiled contentedly to herself. For once in her life, things were going just right.
The journey to France several months after the wedding was more enjoyable with their freedom, no longer having to worry about who might see them or a bounty on their heads. They traveled comfortably, able to enjoy the passing of the scenery and one another’s company.
As they drew closer to her home country, Odette wasted no time pointing out various things to Theophilus. She found herself trailing off and rambling about her childhood, overwhelmed by the idea of returning once again.
When she caught herself on another tangent, she would blush, yet his reassuring smiles would remind her that he cared and listened to every word of it.
Odette could hardly contain her excitement the moment they reached the countryside, and all the familiar places brought back her delicate memories. Her heart was full, knowing she had the opportunity to show him everything she loved so dearly about where she grew up.
The wagon slowed to a stop at the end of a winding lane, and her chest thrummed with anticipation.
The driver propped the door open, and Theophilus went out first, offering her a hand. Smiling with emotions present in her eyes, she stepped out and tried her hardest not to cry.
“Are you certain I can’t take you further down the lane? It seems to be a fair walk,” the footman asked, sincere in his worry.
With a hand supporting her swollen belly, she grinned. “That won’t be necessary, although I do appreciate the concern.”
Nodding obediently, he fetched a wicker basket from within the carriage and handed it to Theophilus. “I will be waiting at your disposal.”
“Thank you,” he murmured, already lacing his arm through Odette’s.
They began down the lane at a careful pace beneath the warm sun as the long grass around them swayed. Birds took wing and sang their beautiful songs, and she couldn’t have imagined a better day.
“I don’t wish to alter your plans, but is it necessary to walk all this way when we have a perfectly fine carriage that could take us there much faster? Is this safe for the baby?” he asked her, worriedly stitching his brows together.
“I am perfectly capable of walking in my condition,” she said, brushing off his hovering. “Besides, it is a beautiful day, and I wish for you to feel what I did growing up.”
Theophilus softened. “What about—”
“The baby told me they would enjoy nothing better than a walk down this old lane,” she mused with a playful expression. “You needn’t worry yourself.”
Sighing, surely aware he couldn’t say anything that could change her mind, he walked alongside her in peace, letting go of a chuckle at his wife.
Looking out across the land, Odette felt a pulse of emotion in her heart, recalling the many days she had once spent there. Many mornings, she would run out in her morning dress despite her mother’s protests to tromp through the dew drops and listen to the birds while the quiet world around them awoke for the day.
“This was where my parents raised me before we moved to London,” she began as they moved in between the trees, further onto the property.
When he found it within himself to let go of his worry, Theophilus gazed around quietly as he seemed to appreciate it all the same.
The lane was worn from the past, yet the grass had grown in from many years of vacancy. The garden was long untouched with unruly weeds and various plants left to grow on their own.
They passed by an old wooden swing tied to the strong bough of a great tree, tall and mighty with age. Odette giggled to herself and approached it, pulling it back before letting it go.
“I spent many hours on this swing. Whether I was angry with my parents at something they wanted me to do or if I simply had nothing better to occupy my time, I always found my way back to it.”
“And that is the house?” Theophilus asked, pointing to an old stone building.
Bringing it to her attention, her smile grew. “Yes, indeed. I never thought I’d see it again.”
The two of them approached the building and peered in through the old windows, cracked and damaged with time. Some of the old furniture they left behind remained, covered in thick layers of dust. The structure itself looked sound, yet they didn’t want to risk going inside.
“I was so terribly angry when my parents told me we had to leave this place,” Odette began, guiding him toward the back of the house with their fingers laced together. “I cried, I shouted, and I protested in silence. But of course, I couldn’t do anything to change it. I despised them for a time, not understanding why we needed to leave.”
“You loved this place dearly,” he murmured, gently squeezing her hand.
“I did, more than anything at the time. It wasn’t until I realized the damage that had been done and the lives that were lost due to the war that I became grateful for the choice my parents made. They moved us away to keep our family safe, and I only wish I hadn’t spent my last days here being so angry,” she said, pulling a sad smile. “My life in London wasn’t as horrible as I imagined it would be, yet I didn’t appreciate it at the time. I spent most of it wishing I could return here to help free my country. I couldn’t let go of my love for this place, which made me determined to get vengeance against the English crown.”
They continued to walk silently while the trees began to thin, and more meadows continued before them. A field of violet flowers tousled in the breeze, and she smiled, finally feeling at home once again.
Theophilus gazed at the wild land around them. He seemed to be in awe. “I see why you fought so hard for this place.”
“I missed this view every day,” she hummed, releasing his hand to wipe away the few tears that gathered in her eyes. “And now I’m back with my husband and our growing family.”
He smiled warmly at her and reached inside the closed basket to retrieve a quilt. They unfolded it and spread it out in the grass together to make a comfortable place to sit. Theophilus guided her to the ground, careful of the precious life growing inside her.
Sat together on the quilt, they watched as white clouds moved across the brilliant blue sky and how the trees and grass moved with the gentle wind. The landscape was just as she had remembered it, tied together with the lavender swaying beautifully.
“Our home may be back in London, but surely we will have the opportunity to bring our family here from time to time,” he stated, leaning against his palms. “They can experience the French countryside for themselves.”
“I would love nothing more,” Odette returned softly, eyes softened by the idea. She gently rubbed her hand over her belly, so wonderfully full of life.
“Before I forget,” Theophilus began with glee in his eyes, reaching for the wicker basket. “I brought you something I thought you’d enjoy.”
Curiously, Odette eyed him as he pulled out something wrapped in parchment. She gasped the moment he held up two caramelized apples.
“You remembered!” she exclaimed, tearing up even more at the kindness of his gesture. Overjoyed, she leaned in and planted a warm kiss against his lips. Theophilus chuckled into the embrace, draping an arm across her back while carefully not dropping the treat.
When they pulled apart, she could hardly contain herself. He handed her one and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks sore from smiling, “for everything.”
Mirroring her contentment, he reached for her hand and gently stroked her skin with his thumb. “Seeing your happiness makes everything worthwhile.”
Overwhelmingly happy, they ate their apples, surrounded by warmth and light and blessed by the sun’s hopeful rays.
After a moment of content silence, Theophilus glanced over at her. “What do you think the baby will be?”
Odette hummed to herself in thought while she chewed and swallowed some of the sticky sweet apple. “I don’t mind either way, yet a part of me is hopeful for a little girl. I can picture us doing so much together.”
“If the baby is a girl and she takes after her rebel of a mother, we are in big trouble.”
The two of them shared their amused expressions as they laughed, taking in the palpable joy that blossomed between them.
While they joked and found it humorous, some of her knew he was right.
Once the apples were gone and they had their fill of the beauty around them, the two of them rose from their places, and Odette wandered over to the field of lavender. Carefully, she bent down and plucked a bountiful sprig, bringing it to her nose to take in the fresh fragrance.
At once, she thought about all the times she ran through the meadow as a child, blissfully unaware of the future ahead of her, full of twists, turns, and turmoil. But above all, she felt the happiness that made her feel complete.
She had never experienced such raw contentment before. She knew her journey with Theophilus wouldn’t be easy, and she never counted on a simple life full of balls, the marriage market, and meeting the demands of society. Yet, with her unwillingness to conform came the peaceful existence she had always hoped for. It only made the rest feel that much easier to bear.
With a handful of lavender, she carefully approached Theophilus and placed them in the basket on top of the quilt to keep it safe.
He smiled down at her and leaned in for a kiss. The familiar pressure of his lips on hers set her mind at ease and reminded her of how easily he could sweep her off her feet. His hand rested against her belly as a sign of his promise to be the best husband and father he could be.
Despite not being born yet, their child was already so incredibly loved.
Odette knew they were meant to be together, and nothing could possibly keep them apart—not war, exile, or an assassination attempt.
Regardless of future challenges, they could face each one with courage, love, and faith.
“My heavens and stars!” Mr. Richards exclaimed with a broad smile when Genevieve came into view. “It has been too long since you have graced me with your company, my lady!”
“Did you think I had forgotten you?” Genevieve laughed and teased the man who had been such a good friend to her over the years.
“Not forgotten, forsaken perhaps!” Mr. Richards came around the tall library desk to greet her.
“Bite your tongue! I would never do such a thing!” She dangled a small box in front of her just in time for Mr. Richards to take. “I have come bearing gifts, and still you speak to me in such terms?”
“Naturally, I shall rescind all of my biting remarks as there are now delicious baked goods on offer!” Mr. Richards pulled the small package closer to him and winked before taking in her heavily pregnant state. “I had heard that you and Lord Warwick were with child, my lady. I had not imagined that you were quite so far along!”
“Nine months, can you believe it?”
“N-nine?! Surely, you ought to be abed, or at the very least sitting somewhere with your feet up. Is it wise to be out and about?”
Just then, Edward decided to make his presence known. “I have tried saying that exact thing to her countless times over the last few months, and she has ignored my every warning. I feel I shall be a touch offended if you are believed where I am not.”
“Hush, both of you. I shall know when it is time.” Genevieve waved off their concern and started to walk further into the library. She knew very well from the books she had read thus far that it would be any day now. It could be today at some point, but she refused to be bedridden over something so trivial as having a baby. This was the happiest place she could think of to be. “Besides, I have another book I need to fetch.”
“You have read nearly the entire section on midwifery already,” Edward protested without any real objection I his tone.
“I hardly see how that matters at all. There is always more to learn. I am only part way finished with the maternity and pregnancy sections of the library, I will have you know. I am returning these three books, and I should like to find something else on childhood for after the baby is born.”
“Have your names already been selected?” Mr. Richards asked.
Genevieve and Edward exchanged knowing glances. “Perhaps, we shall just need to know if it is a boy or a girl first.”
“All that matters is that we have a healthy child,” Edward put in.
“We will. At least, we shall have a happy and healthy child so long as you continue to make their mother happy. Which means allowing her to read whatever books she pleases.”
“Yes, my dove.” Edward chuckled as she disappeared further into the stacks.
“We will have a healthy baby, even if I have to deliver it myself.” Genevieve muttered, laughing, to herself. It was no idle threat that she kept using against her husband. She had been reading all the books she could for a good reason. She would be ready for it no matter what happened whenever she went into labor. If this was the only way she would ever be able to play physician, then she was going to make the absolute most out of the opportunity.
“Well, if you need my assistance, my dove, then you know where I shall be,” Edward said as he trailed behind her. He was most interested in the section near where she was headed. “Though, if you wish to head upstairs for a little bit of a nostalgic romp, I shall happily carry you up there.”
“And bring the baby on early? I think not.” Genevieve grinned. “Careful, or you shall have my mind all in a tizzy!”
“Perhaps I like seeing you all in a tizzy.” Edward kissed her cheek softly.
“You are incorrigible.” She grinned at him. “Have you had any luck in finding a diagram for the telescope you are working on building? You have spread your plans and pieces over our study for weeks now.”
“Well, I had originally sustained hopes that I would be able to map the stars for the night that our child is born, but the telescope is proving more difficult to figure out than I had expected,” he admitted ruefully.
“I am sure you will manage it, eventually.”
“Then you shall just have to hold the child in until such a time as I figure it out.” Edward shrugged as if his suggestion was a perfectly logical and reasonable one.
Genevieve was tempted to hit him in the arm with her book. “Oh, is that all?”
“Mmm, that is correct, my dove. You will only be able to go into labor when I tell you that it is all right and my telescope is complete.”
She rolled her eyes, and the pair of them split off to go to their different sections. She was excited about the upcoming life change. She knew that having a child of their very own was going to make everything different. Every day she was forced to confront just how different her life had turned out compared to the assumptions she had always made regarding the path ahead of her. Happily married to the love of her life, with a baby and plans for more in the future. She never could have imagined it would be possible. To have been so closed off from Society for so many years, and now this. Even when the changes overwhelmed her, she could not deny her excitement over how things had turned out.
Her fingers glossed over the spines of the thick maternity books. It was difficult to find any two studies that carried the same information about what happened to a woman during her pregnancy and the birth. Genevieve had decided it was because the books housed in the library were all written by men who could have no personal knowledge on the subject.
She had taken up journaling again when she missed her first courses. She had charted every shift and change. Remaining clinical about some of the symptoms and changes allowed her mind to focus and enjoy the journey. She had not yet told Edward of her plans, but she had decided that she wished to write a book of her own. She would have to ask his permission to perhaps publish it under his name or an alternative, but it was a new dream of hers to turn the journals on her pregnancy and the months following her birth into a book to help others. If she could help even one other woman through her pregnancy as a result of it, then she would happily offer up any information she could.
So lost in her daydream of publishing a book was she, that she did not even hear Annabelle rushing up to her.
“I knew I would find you here!” Annabelle gushed, her face alight with glee.
“Oh? Am I so predictable?”
Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Well, yes. Of course, you are. You are my closest friend. I do not think I could have the title of also being your closest friend if I could not figure out where you might be on an otherwise lovely afternoon. Certainly not taking a promenade,” Annabelle teased.
“Long walks like that could bring the baby on earlier than planned,” Genevieve offered sagely.
“As if that is the true reason.”
“It is the reason that I am giving you, so be content with it.”
“I suppose Edward is around here somewhere as well?”
“Of course, why do you ask?”
“You two are almost never parted. I keep making bets with my maid as to when you two might finally tire of one another.” Annabelle pretended to look at the same books as her friend while talking.
“Then you both will lose a great deal of money, I am afraid.” Genevieve looked at her sideways. “Is there a reason that you have sought me out, friend?”
“Oh! Yes! But of course! I have some shocking news that could not wait another moment!” Annabelle practically bounced with excitement over her news.
“Well then, you should tell it to me quickly!”
Edward rounded the corner with a book open in his hands. “She always claims that her news is shocking and exciting.” He winked at Annabelle as a form of greeting.
“If you knew the news, then you would be as shocked as I am this time!” She swatted at his arm playfully before turning back to her friend.
“Pay him no mind.” Genevieve spun Annabelle to face her. “I, for one, am looking forward to whatever you have to tell me!”
“Well, you see—” Annabelle started but stopped at the sudden look of pain on Genevieve’s face. “Whatever is the matter?”
Genevieve gripped Annabelle’s forearms tightly, for she was afraid to move. Her water had broken. She could feel the warm liquid pooling on the floor between her feet and coating her thighs. Now that it was happening, her careful medical study and planning felt very, very far away. “It is happening . . . the baby is coming. Now.”
***
Edward
“I should go in there,” Edward muttered as he paced outside the chamber doors. “I cannot continue to just stand here and listen to my wife in pain!”
Annabelle smiled and shook her head. “If she wished you to be in there, she would have said so. You and I both know that she would summon one or both of us if we were needed.”
“What if something is wrong? What if she is unable to call for us for some reason? There can be no other explanation for the way that she just screamed!” Edward protested. His forehead was slick with a cold sweat that traveled all down his back. He had been forced to shed his coat and waistcoat, for his shredded nerves made them too hot to tolerate as he paced over and over again. He had not stopped moving for the last hour or so that she had been in the room.
“Everything will be all right. She knows what she is doing, Edward, she is a very smart and capable woman. You and I both know that to be true,” Annabelle reasoned.
“How can you be sitting there so calmly?! I am going to lose my mind!”
“You say that as if you had any semblance of mind in the first place,” Annabelle teased, clearly hoping to ease his worries with a little levity.
Any other time, it would have. He had not anticipated feeling quite as terrified. He had no experience with emotions so raw. It felt like they were attempting to swallow him whole, while Annabelle simply sat calmly, her hands neatly folded in her lap.
“I cannot lose her, Annabelle. If something happens to her, I am not sure that I will be able to—”
The bedroom door opened, and he nearly fell over with relief. The maid smiled warmly to them both, while Edward stretched and strained in an effort to see around her to his wife. She had stopped screaming. There was little sound at all. Was that how it was supposed to be? Was there supposed to be a baby crying? Oh, what if something had happened to the baby? He was going to be sick.
“Is she all right? May I go inside now?”
“She is perfectly well, my lord. She is asking for you,” the maid answered.
She had hardly stopped speaking before Edward slid around her and into the room. It was rude, but he could not take the time to consider what might be proper or not.
Nothing could have emotionally prepared him for what awaited him in their bed. Genevieve was a mess in the best possible way. The bags under her eyes appeared more pronounced. Her hair was damp and matted to her face and chest in random places. She appeared to be very tired, and still, she had never looked more beautiful to him.
In her arms was a small bundle swathed in blankets.
Hot tears of joy rolled down his face as he laughed in palpable relief. They were all right. Everything was all right! Both of them appeared happy and healthy. The baby’s small, wrinkled face appeared serene as it napped in its mother’s arms.
“Is it . . . are you?” He was not even entirely certain just what it was that he was asking her. He wished to say everything all at once.
“We are well. Come, meet your son, Edward.” Genevieve beamed with pride. “Ten fingers, and ten toes, and a head full of dark, black hair just like yours.”
Edward slid onto the bed beside her carefully, wrapping one arm around her and cupping the other where she held their son. “A boy.” He peered at his son. He was so small he was nearly afraid to touch him. He felt as if his heart was swelling in his chest, growing larger with the passing moments as it filled to bursting with his love for both the child and the mother holding him. “A son.” Edward could hardly believe it. He had a son! “He is so small, so much smaller than I expected.”
Genevieve laughed, and her laugh was interrupted by the need to yawn. When she finished, she spoke wearily. “Should you like to hold him? You should hold him, Edward.”
“What if I harm him by accident?” he asked softly, confessing his fears.
“You could never hurt him. I know you would never do so. It will come naturally to you, you will see. Here, put your arms like this.” She motioned for him to make the same cradle with his arms as her and very gingerly transferred their son from her own arms into Edward’s.
If there had been a single piece of him that was not overcome with love for his boy, it was filled in exactly moment. He slumbered peacefully, a quiet baby. Of course. It occurred to him that their son would likely be just as perfect as she was herself.
“He has your eyes,” Edward mused. What a perfect blend of their features. His strong jawline and her upturned nose and round eye shape. He could not wait to find out what color the boy’s eyes would be, so he could tell who he took after in that respect. “I shall always love you more than myself,” he whispered in a promise between him and the boy. “I swear to you that I shall never allow anyone to dictate your wishes and desires.”
He found himself rocking the child out of some reflex he had not even known he possessed before that very moment.
“You were right, it does come naturally, my dove.” He turned his attention to Genevieve on the bed for only a moment, but she was asleep. She was exhausted, sitting upright, her head against the headboard. He could only imagine how tired she must be after laboring for so long. He scooted closer on the bed to her and crossed his legs at the ankles, his son cradled in his arms.
“May I join you?” Annabelle asked from the doorway. “I wished to give the three of you a moment alone, but now I should very much like to see my godchild!”
“He is sleeping, but I can already tell he is going to be perfect.”
