Chapter Thirty-eight

After waking up early Saturday morning and deciding he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, Martin quietly pulled himself from the bed and headed for the bathroom to shower. Waiting for the results of Louisa's blood test left him restless the last few days.

Since he was aware of the possibility, Martin kept a close eye on Louisa, watching for any sign or indication that she could be expecting. The eagerness he felt surprised him at first, but the slight grin that reflected in the mirror only strengthened his hope that it could be true.

After toweling his hair dry, Martin reached for his razor and began applying shaving foam to his jaw and chin. He wasn't prepared for Louisa to come up behind him, and when he felt a pair of hands glide over his bare shoulders, he jumped, letting out a yelp as the blade of the razor nicked the underside of his jaw. "Ow! For God's sake!" he bellowed, desperately reaching over for a tissue to stop the flow of blood from the tiny wound. He glared at Louisa in the mirror, who was standing behind him with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry!" she cried out. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's early. What are you doing up?" he asked, his anger quickly subsiding.

"I heard the shower running. What were you doing up so early?"

Martin continued to put pressure on the small cut on his jaw. "I couldn't sleep."

"Oh."

He finished shaving and rinsed his face free of the foamy residue, placing a small square of toilet paper over the area of skin his razor grazed.

"Mm, smooth," Louisa purred as she stepped closer to run a finger over his newly-shaven cheek.

"Louisa . . ." He nearly gasped as he felt her warm breath on the side of his neck.

"What?"

"You're distracting me."

"That's kind of the point, Martin," she said as she leaned up on the balls of her feet, balancing herself with her hands on his shoulders so she could whisper in his ear.

Martin tensed at the carnal language she spoke with. He swallowed hard, once again feeling her hands roam over his shoulders and down his bare arms.

"Martin? Have you been working out? You feel more firm than I remember." Louisa squeezed the firm ridge of muscle in his upper arm.

Martin shook his head, sputtering, "I-I . . . a little." He cleared his throat, desperately hoping for a change of topic.

A smile lit up Louisa's face. "When? I can't recall you ever exercising."

"I, um . . . in the mornings. Before you get up I've been doing pushups and sit-ups. I . . ." He looked away from her gaze in the mirror, his cheeks turning a bright shade of red.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Martin. I think it shows initiative." She reached up and ran a hand through the damp hair at the back of his head. "Now I won't be able to keep my hands off you."

Still feeling embarrassed, Martin tried to twist out of her embrace. "Yes, well . . . I should get dressed."

"If you insist." He turned out of her arms and she took the opportunity to kiss him good morning. "You forgot," she said, pulling away only slightly to let her nose rest against his.

"Mm, yes." His eyes sparkled for a moment. "I'll have to make it up to you now."

Louisa smiled. "I'll hold you to it."

"Yes."

She kissed the corner of his mouth and stepped back. "I'll let you get dressed while I wake James. Do you want me to start breakfast?"

"No, I can do it."

"Okay." She smiled once more before heading back to their bedroom towards James's room.

While they ate breakfast, Martin paged through his medical journal, scouring for any material related to geriatric pregnancies. Though he wasn't very interested in gynecology or obstetrics, Louisa's health and safety was his primary concern. And if she was expecting, he'd rather be prepared, in the event that an unexpected situation should arise.

"I thought we could go out for a walk later?" Louisa suggested as she wiped James's mouth free of his breakfast. "Martin?" She nudged his foot under the table to get his attention.

"What?" He finally looked up from his reading.

"I was saying that I think we should go for a walk later. Maybe a stroll on the beach or along the coastal path?"

"Mm. Is it warm enough?"

"Well the sun's out . . ."

"Right." Feeling frustrated that he couldn't find anything worth reading, Martin pushed his journal aside and stood from his chair.

"We don't have to," Louisa said, sensing he wasn't in the mood to go out. "I was only suggesting."

"Yes, I know." He fumbled with the plate he was rinsing and the ceramic clank against the sink startled James, who cried out at the noise.

"Shh, it's alright James," Louisa soothed as she moved to pick him up from his high chair. "Are you alright, Martin? You seem a little on edge this morning."

"I'm fine," he assured her as he placed his used plate in the dishwasher. "I've had something on my mind is all."

Louisa raised an eyebrow as James finally settled in her arms. "Maybe a walk will clear things up a bit?"

"Mm."

. . .

A short while later, despite Martin's insistence that he was fine, Louisa practically dragged him out of the house and down to the beach for a walk. They brought along a blanket so they could sit and watch James as he explored.

"Oh, look!" Louisa said as she pointed towards James, who was a few yards away playing with the other children on the beach. "Looks like James made some friends at nursery school."

"He's twenty months old. I doubt he even understands the concept of friendship."

"Mar-tin," she admonished under her breath. "He doesn't have to understand it yet. Just as long as he's happy."

Martin watched James and the other children with a curled lip. "I hope those children are vaccinated."

Louisa reached over and covered his hand with her own. "Let's leave the medical concerns at home for a while, shall we? We're here to have fun, Martin." She turned to look at him. "And loosen up a bit. It'll do you good." She nudged his upper arm with her elbow, indicating his stiff posture.

Martin let out a sigh and straightened his legs out on the blanket and leaned back on the palms of his hands. "Is that better?"

"Much improved." She smiled and shifted closer to him. "It's such a lovely day."

"Mm," he grunted as he turned his gaze back towards James, squinting against the bright sun. "Did you remember to put sun block on James?"

"Yes."

"The kind specifically for children?"

"Yes, Martin." She rolled her eyes.

"Good." Knowing that Louisa was keeping an eye on James, Martin turned to look at her discretely. Her dark hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail and her cheeks took on a rosy hue from the sun. She never looked more beautiful.

"Can I interest you in a shell bracelet, sir?"

Martin looked up at the girl standing in front of them. She looked to be about ten, and she held up an arm adorned with strings of homemade jewelry. "No thank you."

"Mar-tin." Louisa elbowed him in the side before turning back to the young girl. "What about that one?" She pointed to one of the bracelets on the girl's arm. The girl pulled off the string of shells and handed it to Louisa. "How much?"

"A pound," the girl replied.

"Martin, did you bring your wallet?"

"Yes, but, Louisa, you can't seriously be thinking of buying that? It's nonsense."

"Mar-tin!" She elbowed him harder. "Don't mind him," she said, looking back to the girl. "He just doesn't know art when he sees it."

"Louisa, I know what art is and that's not it."

A disheartened expression fell over the girl's face as she looked down at her sandals.

Louisa whipped her head around to face him once more. "Martin Ellingham!" she hissed between clenched teeth. "You are hurting that little girl's feelings. Now pull out your wallet and buy your wife that bracelet!"

Martin tightened his jaw, not wanting to give in. "Fine," he finally acquiesced. He reached inside his suit and pulled out his wallet. "The smallest I have is a five. Can you—"

"Perfect." Louisa snatched the note from him and handed it to the girl. "Here you are. And keep the change."

The girl beamed. "Thank you, miss."

"You're very welcome." Louisa took the bracelet from the girl and held it up to inspect it then turned to look at her husband, who wasn't at all enthused. "What?"

"You spent five pounds on that piece of detritus. Honestly, Louisa . . ."

"Martin, I used to do the same thing when I was her age. And what if that was our daughter? Would you be so quick to tell her that her arts and crafts were nonsense?"

"For starters I wouldn't allow my child to walk around the beach by themselves selling jewelry to strangers." At Louisa's exasperated sigh, he added, "No, I wouldn't. But we don't have a daughter now do we. So what does it matter?" He didn't wait for a response as his attention was suddenly pulled elsewhere by the shrill cry of his son.

"Da-ee!" James squealed as he started to run towards Martin, but he didn't get far. Tripping over his shoes, the toddler fell face down in the sand, letting out another piercing cry.

"Oh, James," Louisa gasped. She moved to sit up but Martin stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

"I've got him," he said as he pulled himself up from the blanket and rushed over to their son.

"Alright, James. You're just fine." He leaned down and picked him up. James's face was covered with sand and a mixture of saliva and tears. He looked the toddler over as he brought him back to Louisa. "Um, I think he wants you."

"Come here, James." Louisa held out her hands and Martin transferred a tearful James to her arms. She wiped off his face with a disposable napkin she fished out of the nappy bag. He continued to cry softly and Louisa held him close to her chest, tucking his head underneath her chin. "What happened?" she asked Martin, turning to look at him expectantly.

"I'm not sure," he answered as he settled himself back down on the blanket beside her. "He looks alright to me." Reaching over, Martin ran his fingers over James's face and head, probing for any bumps or lesions.

"Did you get overexcited, James?" Louisa pulled away to look down at their son. James just turned and buried his face in her neck.

"I knew we should have stayed home."

"Don't be such a spoil sport, Martin. James was enjoying himself earlier. Aren't you always saying how James needs the fresh air and physical activity?"

"Yes, well . . ." He looked down as his fingers played with the edge of the blanket, knowing she was right.

"Oh, look!" Louisa pointed to the ice cream truck that came to a halt on the Platt, its cheerful music attracting the children on the beach. "Maybe some ice cream will you cheer you up, James?"

Martin scrunched his nose at her suggestion. "Louisa, he doesn't need any ice cream. It's filled with—"

"Fat and sugar. Yes, I know. But he can share a cone with me. For all we know he won't even like it." She turned to face him with pleading eyes. "It's a beautiful day out. Why not indulge ourselves?"

Martin let out a long sigh. "Fine. What flavor would you like?" He stood up and brushed his trousers free of sand.

Louisa tilted her head as if deep in thought. "Vanilla sounds good."

"Right."

She watched as his long legs propelled him toward the ice cream truck, dodging running children in the process.

"Afternoon, Doc!"

Martin frowned as Penhale caught his attention. The constable was sitting on the bench that overlooked the beach, Janice beside him, both licking ice cream cones of their own. "Mm," he grunted his acknowledgment. "You've been resting I hope? No strenuous activity?"

Penhale grinned. "Of course not."

Janice smirked in response. "Resting?" Penhale tried to quiet her but to no avail. "I don't recall what we did this morning as resting."

Martin's frown deepened. "Oh, God."

Penhale slunk down on the bench, his face turning red with embarrassment. "What can I say, Doc? We're getting married soon . . ."

"Oh, whatever." His expression turned serious. "But you must rest. Otherwise you'll do further damage to your sternum and ribcage."

"Further damage? Joe?" Janice turned to question him.

Penhale shook his head. "It's nothing. Just a bit of pain in my chest."

"Joe? Why didn't you tell me?"

Martin curled his lip as the couple began to argue back and forth. Turning away, he walked the few remaining strides to the ice cream vendor.

"Um, here."

Louisa turned from her gaze across the sea to take the dripping ice cream cone from his outstretched hand. "Thank you, Martin." She licked away the soft and melting edges before offering some to James. He didn't seem very interested in it, but when Louisa touched the creamy confection to his lips, the toddler stuck out his tongue to taste it. "What do you think, James?" He reached out an arm to grab at the cone and Louisa laughed. "I think he likes it."

"God . . ."

Louisa rolled her eyes. "It's just ice cream, Martin."

"Yes, I know. But exposing children to sugar at such a young age will only entice them further once they're grown and developed."

"Well it's a good thing he has you to look after his diet then."

"Mm."

"Just taste a little bit, Martin."

He shook his head. "No, thank you. You've already shared it with James."

Without hesitation, Louisa leaned over and swiped the ice cream cone over his lower lip. She smiled as she tried to stifle her laugh. "Oops, sorry, Martin."

Martin creased his brow into another frown. "You did that on purpose."

"I'm trying to get you to have fun."

"I don't think fun entails being covered in frozen milk and sugar." He reached for a napkin to wipe his face off, but Louisa stopped him.

"No, wait. I'll do it." Leaning forward, James still cradled in her lap, Louisa pressed her mouth to his, her tongue darting out to lick away the sticky residue on his lower lip.

Martin pulled away abruptly, surprised by her bold actions. "Louisa!" He again reached for the nappy bag and pulled out a napkin, wiping his mouth and chin thoroughly.

"What?"

"We're out in public!"

"So?"

"Well, someone could see us," he sputtered.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Was he still that self-conscious about public displays of affection? "Martin, this whole village practically witnessed us kiss at our wedding. I don't see how this is any different?"

"It's completely different!" he argued back forcefully. "That was a display on the grounds of a religious ceremony. What we do now with each other is private."

"And that's how you'd like to keep it?"

Martin hesitated at first. "Yes."

"Well I don't."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "What I mean, is that I want you to hold my hand when we walk through the village; kiss me when we sit on the beach or relax in a park with James; to show me that some part of you cares."

Martin furrowed his brow. "Louisa, you know I care about you . . ."

"Yes. But I want everyone else to know. Even Joe and Janice are more forward with their relationship in public than we are." She turned around to indicate the couple who were huddled close together on the bench near the Platt. "I just thought it would be sweet and romantic—like in the movies."

"I see." Though he began to wonder what movies she'd seen that involved licking ice cream off one another's faces.

Martin looked down at the hands folded in his lap. "I didn't know you were trying to be romantic. I thought you were making a joke out of me because I don't enjoy ice cream."

Louisa's expression finally softened. "Martin," she began in a tender voice, "you know I'd never ridicule you like that. I didn't intend for my actions to hurt you."

"I'm more comfortable keeping that side of things between us private. I don't mean to upset you . . ."

Louisa shifted closer to him on the blanket, covering his hand with her own. "I'm not upset. I overreacted when I shouldn't have. And you're right. The more intimate aspect of our relationship is private, but this . . ." She entwined their fingers together and held their joined hands up. "This is what I want everyone else to see."

"And that will make you happy?"

"I'm already happy, Martin, but yes. Holding your hand in public would make me happy."

She squeezed his hand and he felt himself relax, glad that she was no longer cross with him. "Um, Louisa, your ice cream is melting," Martin pointed out, noticing the white dessert dripping onto the blanket.

"What?" Looking down, Louisa's eyes widened at the sight. James reached down to touch the drops of melted ice cream, but Martin intercepted him as he let Louisa clean up the mess. "I completely forgot I had it in my hand," she said as she rolled what was left of the ice cream cone in a bundle of paper napkins. "We've certainly made a mess of things, haven't we?"

"Mm, not really."

"I meant the ice cream, Martin."

"Yes, I know. The blanket can be washed, don't worry."

"Thank you for coming with us," she said after she finished cleaning up the spilled ice cream.

"Yes. I do enjoy spending time with you and James, Louisa. I . . ." Martin looked down as he kneaded a finger into the palm of his hand. "I just thought you should know."

"Of course I know, Martin. But hearing you say it makes it even more special."

Martin continued to avoid eye contact with her as he fought to express his latest fear. "I-I'm sorry I've been so distant with you over the last few days." He paused to take in a deep breath. "I'm worried about you." He finally peered up at her with a hesitant look.

Louisa furrowed her brow, adjusting James in her arms, who was starting to feel heavy as he began to doze off. "What for?"

He gestured toward her midsection. "Your pregnancy. That is, if it's confirmed. Given your age there's a higher risk for complications during gestation and delivery and . . ." He felt her slim fingers curl around his hand again, creating a calming effect. "I'm afraid that something could happen—to you or the baby."

Louisa's expression softened at his words. "Martin," she breathed out. "I understand your concern. I've thought about it too, but I've been trying not to worry over it. Anyway, I have the best doctor there is to look after me." She smiled, hoping to lift his spirits a bit.

"Yes. But, Louisa, I'm not—that is, I'm not a gynecologist or an obstetrician. There's only so much I know . . ."

Louisa nodded. "I know, Martin. But the other side of you—my husband—will look after me no matter what."

"Yes," he managed to say, swallowing over the lump that formed in his throat.

She twisted a sleepy James around to cradle him up against her shoulder. "Everything will be alright—I'm sure of it." He nodded as she squeezed his hand. "We should probably think about heading home to get this one down for his nap."

"Yes." Martin took James from Louisa so she could gather up the blanket and nappy bag. "Louisa?"

"Yes."

"Do you still want me to hold your hand while we walk back?"

She smiled. "That would be lovely, Martin."

The corners of his mouth twitched and he reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. He let out a deep breath as they passed by several onlookers. It wasn't so bad after all, he thought as he felt one of James's arms curl around his neck. He felt safe and loved with his family. The others could be as envious as they liked.

A/N: So this chapter kind of ran away with itself. The beach scene ended up being longer than intended (which happens quite often during my writing as you've probably noticed). I originally planned to include the results of Louisa's blood test in this chapter but figured it might be a bit too long, so I apologize for making everyone wait yet another chapter for what we all hope to be true. And don't worry, there is still plenty more to come before we reach our ending (though we're slowly getting there). I do have the next installment planned out and hope to have it posted no later than the end of next week due to my busy schedule coming up. Again, thoughts and comments are always welcome as I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter.