It seems I wasn't the only one reduced to tears last chapter. This one is a little easier on the emotions though maybe a tad bittersweet.
xx Elise
~P&P~
Chapter 36
Fulfilment
"Merry Christmas, sweetheart."
Woken by her husband's greeting, Isabella stretched, knowing full well how much he enjoyed watching her, even when she was clothed. Opening her eyes, she smiled to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, bearing a breakfast tray. Three heavenly days had passed since she was last ill. However, soothing her still-irascible stomach with tea and toast before rising was a precaution she continued to take.
The days since they had discovered she was with child had been bittersweet. Edward's solicitousness was without fault, but he couldn't hide his apprehension. Isabella hoped his mood would lighten now she was finally over the worst of the inaccurately named morningsickness.
"Merry Christmas, my love." She rubbed her hand along her husband's arm. He hadn't changed out of his nightclothes, sparking the hope she could entice him to rejoin her once she had broken her fast.
"My love," he murmured. Putting the tray aside, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I like hearing you call me that."
"I like being able to say it." She wound her arms around his neck and joined their mouths in a tender kiss. "I love you," she added when he pulled back far enough to meet her serious gaze.
A flash of pain twisted his features before he quickly composed them. "I love you, too, darling wife. Now eat up before that delicate constitution of yours decides to rebel."
Isabella huffed. She had never considered herself delicate but could hardly argue the point after the previous two months. Making short work of her breakfast, she excused herself to visit their newly installed and more conveniently located bathing room.
Turning back, she pointed a finger at him. "Don't move."
Despite raising an eyebrow at her peremptory tone, Edward awaited her return as requested. Hoping to take advantage of his relaxed mood, she removed her robe and climbed onto the bed.
"Sweetheart?" Edward's eyes widened when she straddled his lap and began raining kisses upon his face and neck. "Not that I am complaining, but what exactly are you doing?"
"Making up for lost time," she murmured against his lips, her fingers weaving patterns in his overlong hair. He was due for a haircut but had wisely waited until she was up to giving him one, knowing how much she enjoyed doing so.
"What about your condition?"
The fact he stubbornly avoided any direct reference to their child could have spoiled the moment, but Isabella steeled herself not to reveal her lingering hurt. Sitting back, she cupped his face.
"The baby and I are fine," she said. "I consulted with Alice, and she said it is perfectly acceptable for us to resume intimate relations. As long as you don't get too adventurous and start tossing me around the room," she added with a wink.
Edward sputtered before giving way to laughter as she had hoped.
"No wonder Miss Brandon looked at me askance on her way out. You made me sound like a raging beast."
"Hardly." Isabella was relieved he had not baulked at her suggestion. "I merely informed her why I was keen to resume our conjugal relations, though she was rather impressed by my tales of your stamina, prowess, and sheer ingenuity."
Groaning, Edward rested his forehead against hers. "Please, tell me you jest. How am I to face Miss Brandon in public?"
"Of course, I'm joking." Isabella crossed her fingers at the white lie. She had thoroughly enjoyed educating her best friend to the potential joys of matrimony but had no desire to embarrass her husband with the knowledge. Alice had turned her back on the possibility of marriage due to her less-than-ideal circumstances. Neither did she have any intention of giving a man the power to prevent her practising her profession. Still, Isabella had hopes she could entice her friend to at least consider the possibility of forming an attachment.
"Do I get my Christmas wish?" Isabella asked as she slipped the buttons free on Edward's nightshirt and slid her fingers beneath the cloth. Sighing with pleasure at the feel of his bare skin, she looked up to see him watching her.
"As long as you are certain it won't harm you in any way." He stroked his hand from her back to rest against the noticeable swell of her belly. It was the first time he had done such a thing, and the breath caught in Isabella's throat.
"You are not put off by my changing shape?"
"Your shape is perfect," he whispered, soothing the lip she had been worrying between her teeth with a gentle kiss. "You will always be beautiful to me, Isabella, no matter what."
"Even when my belly is big and round?" She tried to keep her tone light but couldn't hide her anxiety.
"Especially then," Edward said, slipping the sleeve from her shoulder. "In the meantime, if you are sure it is safe, I shall very much enjoy taking advantage of the changes occurring in other parts of your anatomy."
Waggling his eyebrows, he lifted his hands to cup her swollen breasts. Isabella was torn between laughter and indignation, but in the end, passion overwhelmed both. It had been too long, and at his gentle but arousing touch, her insecurities, inhibitions, and clothing fell by the wayside . . . as did Edward's. It was only when her hunger for her husband had been sated, and he had reached the limit of his control, that she considered the implications of their changed circumstance.
"Edward," she whispered, holding tight to his shoulders when she felt him preparing to pull away. "There is no need for you to withdraw." Meeting his darkened gaze, she watched understanding dawn in his eyes. For a moment he stilled. Then, groaning, he buried his face in the curve of her neck and abandoned himself to the dictates of his body. Isabella, already well satisfied by his attentions, was surprised when her body responded to the passionate culmination of their intimate reunion in kind. Swept along by the pleasure-filled waves, she could not think of a better way to begin the first of what she desperately hoped would be many Christmases they would spend together.
~P&P~
"Isabella, how lovely to see you up and about . . . and looking a little less green around the gills?"
Her father's uncertainty was understandable, and she was pleased to reassure him she was feeling better.
"It is lovely to be able to attend a service after such a long absence. The church has never looked so good. And what is this I hear about a new bell tower?" she asked while returning the many smiles and nods of greeting sent her way.
"Your husband is a very generous man." Her father spread his hands helplessly, though Isabella knew he must be secretly thrilled at the prospect and by his burgeoning congregation. The church was packed to overflowing.
"Where is Mrs Weatherby?" she asked, taking note of the lack of musical accompaniment. The elderly lady had come out of retirement to replace Isabella as the church organist, but her fingers were arthritic and pained her in the cold.
"Indisposed, I'm afraid, until the winter is passed. I don't suppose you would consider playing?"
"I would love to," Isabella's tone was hesitant, as it wasn't the done thing for a viscountess to perform such a task.
"And so you shall," Edward said.
"You wouldn't mind? Eyebrows will be raised."
He shrugged. "As long as you promise to come and sit beside me during the sermon, I don't care what people do with their eyebrows. I have some very fond memories of hearing you play the church organ."
If it wasn't for their location, Isabella would have responded to the heated look in his eyes in a demonstrative manner, but she limited herself to squeezing his arm.
"Excellent," her father declared, either oblivious to the sudden tension or wisely choosing to pretend ignorance.
While leading the congregation in the carols, Isabella reflected on the previous nine months. Her twenty-seventh birthday had heralded changes she had never expected. Nursing Edward back to health had saved them both—him from an untimely death and her from a life spent alone. If only she felt more confident about the future. Edward never said as much, but it was obvious his faith, or lackthereof, had not wavered, and he held grave doubts about her surviving the birth of their child.
~P&P~
Isabella's belly grew at a rapid rate, as did the frequency of Edward's dark moods.
"Quite aside from all else, you are a large man. It is to be expected you would have a good-sized child," Miss Brandon said, attempting to reassure him during one of her weekly visits. "Isabella is a healthy young woman and in excellent shape for childbearing. I don't foresee any problems, well, other than . . ."
"Other than the life-threatening curse hanging over her head?" Edward finished for her. "I see you continue to share my lack of optimism."
Miss Brandon grimaced but made no attempt to contradict him. "I am normally quite pragmatic," she admitted. "Or I try to be. But I was raised to believe in all manner of mysteries before going to live with my father, not that his high status made him any less intrigued by strange occurrences than the average commoner. If an oddity cannot be explained in a logical manner, I don't normally rush to accept whatever peculiarity has been apportioned the blame. But it's hard to deny the existence of the Masen Curse when the evidence is so compelling."
Edward couldn't argue. "You are not convinced Isabella's father has the right of it? That the curse is broken, and there is no need for apprehension?"
Miss Brandon waggled her head before replying. "I want to believe, but I am afraid my faith has taken something of a battering over the years. Not that it was overly strong to begin with," she added with a wry smile.
Edward could relate, on several levels.
"My motto is to hope for the best but be prepared for anything." She gave his arm a pat. "And that worry is a useless exercise, so let's try not to overindulge, shall we? You have done everything the vicar has asked of you and more. I am sure Isabella and the babe will be fine."
Edward tried to take comfort from her assurances, though he doubted anything would completely silence his fears. Being cooped inside the house for the following two weeks due to persistent snowfalls did not help matters. Although he didn't mind too much, as he wasn't comfortable being away from Isabella for long on those days when the weather permitted him to ride out over the estate. Returning home after visiting one of the mines Whitlock was working tirelessly to improve, Edward felt more like an old man than one in his prime. The cold played havoc on his right leg and left arm, rendering both next to useless and adding to his feelings of powerlessness.
"Why don't you take a hot bath then I shall rub some unguent into your leg?" Isabella suggested when he hobbled in the front door.
"I'll get Dawkins to do it," he muttered as Houghton removed his coat. He hated for her to see him in such a weakened state, despite the fact his being in a far worse state was what had brought them together. Ignoring the hovering servants, Isabella put her arm around his waist and urged him to lean against her as they headed towards the stairs.
"No, that's all right." He pulled away from her embrace. "You shouldn't be assisting me in your condition."
"Oh pfft." She lifted his arm and pulled it around her shoulders. "I am only taking a little of your weight, just helping you to balance."
"But I'm the one who's supposed to be caring for you, not the other way around," he grumbled.
"You do, Edward. You cosset me terribly, and you need to allow me the same privilege. I like taking care of you," she said before reaching up on tiptoe to whisper close to his ear, "but if you would rather Dawkins' hands on your body than mine, far be it from me to intervene. I do have rather fond memories of massaging your thigh. I thought I could join you in the bath and get a head start on your therapy."
Edward's step developed an unexpected spring, one he would gladly pay for later.
They had made love often since Christmas, but only at Isabella's instigation, as he didn't want her to feel pressured in any way. For the better part of a week, she had been too tired at night. He wasn't about to wake her in the morning, as he was determined to see she received all the sleep she needed. Only the day before, she had grumbled that it was a pity it wasn't socially acceptable for her husband to join her in taking an afternoon nap, as it would have been the perfect time. She was neither plagued by the queasiness that still occasionally bothered her of a morning, nor overly fatigued.
Social acceptability be damned, Edward thought as he called for their bath to be drawn. He had always wanted to share a bath with Isabella. That and an afternoon nap sounded like just what he needed.
~P&P~
"How's the leg?" Isabella murmured some time later when they lay sprawled on Edward's bed.
"Never better." He pulled the covers over them and nestled her close to his side, his left hand resting on the curve of her belly. His arm, too, had benefited from the hot bath and even steamier activities in which they had engaged, with not a muscle in his body retaining any tension.
"You do realise we have scandalised the staff again." Isabella sighed, the movement drawing his gaze to her beautiful breasts, made even more luscious by the weight she had gained from her confinement. Despite feeling a distinctive stirring in his loins, Edward resisted the urge to repeat his earlier caresses. He was well satisfied, and her nap had been delayed long enough.
"I wouldn't fret about the staff." He nuzzled her brow while her fingers trailed through the curls on his chest. "They're a forgiving bunch."
"Especially since receiving their generous Christmas bonuses," she said dryly.
Edward chuckled before wondering if she was bothered by her oft-repeated concern. "Are you worried about the harridans of Forkton hearing about our latest escapade?"
"I should be, I suppose." Isabella shrugged a smooth, bare shoulder, the languorous after-effects of their intimate interlude clearly tempering her response. "But considering all the other outrageous goings-on around here, I doubt our indulging in an afternoon interlude will create much of a stir or come as any great surprise."
"True." Edward smiled, recalling her uncharacteristic timidity when she had first broached the idea of moving the nursery from the second floor to the first, the same as their suites. It was a novel idea, one he had not disagreed with. But when she had suggested positioning the baby's bedroom in the same wing of the house as theirs, just up the hallway, in fact, his eyes had widened.
"You can always sleep in the master suite if the noise from the baby's crying is a problem, as I'll put the nursery on the other side of my suite," she had said, her hands clasped together in entreaty. "I just don't want to be away from him at nighttime . . . or from you."
"And I suppose, when he is older, you envision him crawling into bed between us on those mornings when we don't lock the door, just as you did with your parents?" He had surprised them both by speaking of the future, one where their family was intact. Isabella's face had lit up with a smile so wide, he'd had neither the heart nor inclination to deny her request or admit his query had been an aberration. In reality, he feared a far grimmer future where father and baby son comforted each other in their loneliness by night.
Encouraged by his response, Isabella had gone on to broach an even more heretical possibility, one that would undoubtedly shock the local ladies to near insensibility when word got out. Edward, on the other hand, had been touched by her intention.
Tightening his arm around her, he cuddled her delicious curves into his side. "You are still determined to nurse the baby yourself?" he asked. A part of him felt guilty for continuing with the ruse that he possessed any degree of confidence her plans would come to fruition. But he justified his actions with the knowledge Isabella appreciated his optimism, feigned though it might be.
"I know it is scandalous for a viscountess to consider putting her baby to her breast, but my mother never had the benefit of a wet nurse, and we all turned out fine."
"Exceptionally fine," he said and kissed her forehead. The image that formed in his mind of Isabella nursing their son caused a burning sensation at the back of his eyes, just as it had the first time she had raised the possibility. He blinked away the tears that had remained embarrassingly close to the surface since their reunion.
"I thought it the loveliest thing to watch her feeding my sisters," Isabella continued. "I would fetch Mama a cup of tea while she nursed Rosalie, and then I kept Rosalie occupied when it was Tanya's turn two years later. Alice assures me that a healthy, well-fed mother, which I most definitely am, can provide greater nourishment for a babe than a tired-out wet nurse. That is far more important than obeying society's decree, especially one that makes little sense. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Wholeheartedly." Having heard her arguments a time or two before, he hoped to reassure her with his tone.
"I am not overly busy with engagements here in the country, and I am sure I can fit in the events I must attend around the baby's feeding times once I have developed a schedule. Of course, I will employ a wet nurse to assist me if I find it too taxing, plus I will have a nanny to assist me—my mother certainly didn't have one of those." She looked thoughtful. "Are you sure you don't mind waiting another year to take your seat in the House of Lords? I know how important it is for you to involve yourself publicly in the fight against slavery—"
"Not as important as you are to me," he said with a soothing stroke of her arm. Edward doubted his support for the cause would extend beyond the financial, as he couldn't see himself leaving Masen to face the ton without her.
Isabella's smile returned, one he was determined should grace her lovely features as often as possible.
~P&P~
Bittersweet but not terribly angsty.
I have done some browsing and found a plethora of gorgeous images of historical mansions and their interiors, carriages, a chaise lounge or two, and some wonderful paintings depicting Regency era life. If you'd like to check them out, come join me at Elise de Sallier's Stories, my new Facebook group.
As always, I love hearing your thoughts and appreciate your words of encouragement no end.
xx Elise