I am reposting this in hopes the notifications go out to everyone, as only some people have received it (I wasn't one of them!). Also, some people have missed the notifications for Chapters 36 and 37, so make sure you're read them before this one. :)
Your reviews for the last few chapters have been incredibly heartwarming. I am so glad you can all feel the deep friendship these two share underpinning their love and longing for one another.
My new group, Elise de Sallier's Stories, is up and running with 160 members already and lots of gorgeous Regency era images to help illustrate the story. :)
xx Elise
~P&P~
Chapter 37
Surprise
Something was wrong with Edward, something other than his unsuccessful attempts at hiding his fears for her safety. When winter finally gave way to spring, Isabella hoped his restlessness would ease, and it did . . . to be replaced by an odd furtiveness and sense of suppressed excitement that permeated the entire household.
"Have you any idea what's going on?" Isabella asked Angela after a strange encounter with Edward in his study. Upon noticing her presence, he had rushed her from the room much the same way he had the day she had come across him reading his father's risqué books in the library.
"There is something going on," she insisted at Angela's uncharacteristic silence. "I am sure of it."
"I have no idea what you mean, my lady," the Frenchwoman said, busying herself with collecting pins for Isabella's hair. "What could possibly be going on that you wouldn't already know about? Certainly nothing that I would know anything about, nothing worthy of telling tales, not that I'm one to tittle-tattle. Which is entirely moot, because there isn't anything going on, well, other than the usual goings-on, of course."
Isabella stifled a laugh and changed the subject before the poor woman dug herself an even deeper hole. Something was going on, and she suspected it might have to do with her upcoming birthday. She was relieved Edward had something to occupy his mind other than worrying about how she was coping with her confinement and the risks surrounding their baby's birth. With that in mind, she kept silent, not wanting to spoil his fun by revealing her suspicions, which grew as the days counted down to the middle of March.
~P&P~
"Surprise!"
Isabella gasped, her reaction only partially feigned at discovering the gold drawing room filled with so many of her favourite people. She had assumed whatever secret event Edward was planning for her birthday would occur later that evening, not midafternoon when she came down from her nap.
"Happy birthday, darling." Edward took the hand that had risen to cover her mouth in his before leaning in close to ask, "It's not too much is it? I was worried the shock might be a problem."
"It is fine. I am fine, and thank you," Isabella whispered before smiling at her well-wishers.
Her father and sisters were the first to approach. Tanya awkwardly embraced Isabella around her protruding belly.
"Happy birthday," Tanya said, her smile and greeting echoed by those standing nearby. "This is a bit more exciting than last year, when you wouldn't let us make the slightest fuss."
Isabella pulled a face at the memory. The day had started dismally and then ended with finding Edward close to death in the graveyard, a bittersweet occurrence.
"Of course, she didn't want any fuss back then," Rosalie said. "She was staring down the barrel of a life spent in spinsterhood and servitude."
"Rosalie." Their father gave her a mild look of reproof before kissing Isabella's cheek. "Are you well, my dear? You certainly look well. In fact, you look as wonderful as your mother did whenever she was increasing."
"Increasing is the word." Tanya did the almost unthinkable and patted Isabella's rounded stomach in public. "Are you supposed to be this big at six months? You're enormous."
"Tanya!" Isabella tugged her sister away from the group, shooting her non-family members an apologetic glance. "Don't say such things. Quite aside from it being highly inappropriate, Edward is worried enough about the baby's size without you making insensitive comments."
Tanya's face fell. "I'm sorry. I agree with Papa and think you look wonderful. There's no real cause for concern is there?"
"Your sister is doing marvellously." Alice approached and greeted Isabella with a quick kiss. "Now stop monopolising her, as her guests are growing restless. I fear some of the local ladies will have a conniption fit if they do not receive their due attention forthwith."
Isabella looked up to see a veritable receiving line of locals, society and common, waiting to offer their congratulations. Ladies Brandon and Westcott and their daughters had positioned themselves front and centre, as expected.
"I am sorry, Alice," Isabella whispered in an urgent aside. After convincing her to attend the Westcotts' autumn dance the year before—the first time Grace had socialised with her estranged stepmother, Lady Brandon, and her half-siblings since her banishment—Isabella had promised not to put her friend through anything like it ever again. "I don't know what Edward was thinking inviting them."
"He didn't have much choice." Alice gave a wry smile. "Once word spread he was organising a surprise party, Lady Brandon insisted on being included in the guest list. You did open yourself up to trouble when you asked her and Lady Westcott to be your mentors."
Isabella shuddered. "Only as a means to divert their suspicions. Don't think I haven't had cause to regret my impulse."
"I'll bet." Alice chuckled. "Edward was quite concerned. He even threatening to have them barred—can you imagine the to-do that would have created? But I told him there was no need. I can deliver a snub with the best of them, not that I've had much cause of late. Dr Gerandy's drinking is quite out of hand, and now that I am included in the inner circle of a viscountess, I am actually in good favour. They need me more than I need them," she concluded.
"Even Lady Brandon?" Isabella couldn't imagine Alice's stepmother ever turning to her for help.
"My tonic is the only thing that brings her relief from her rheumatism. Although now the worst of the winter has passed, she may go back to giving me the cold shoulder." Alice shrugged and made way for Isabella's other guests.
The next hour passed pleasantly, with Isabella enjoying the opportunity to catch up with friends, both old and new, while they were served a sumptuous afternoon tea. Showered with more gifts than she had received in a lifetime of Christmases and birthdays, she couldn't help feeling a little overwhelmed.
"Whatever am I going to do with all these candies?" she asked Edward while their guests were busy enjoying a slice of her strawberry and cream layered birthday cake. "I will end up as large as a whale if I eat them all myself."
His eyes widened before he looked with alarm at her well-rounded belly. "I shall dole them out one at a time," he said, then went to fetch Alice and bring her over to where Isabella was seated.
"A chocolate or two won't do her any harm," Alice assured him. "Now go fetch us both another glass of that delicious punch. I am parched from fending off numerous requests for impromptu diagnosis, and I can only imagine how Isabella must be feeling after listening to this lot's vacuous chatter."
"Yes, ma'am." Edward bowed his head before departing, muttering under his breath about being treated like a lackey in his own home.
"He's not really offended, is he?" Alice asked with a marked lack of concern.
Isabella laughed. "Not in the least. He finds your refusal to 'toady' refreshing. In fact, he wants to broach the possibility of your calling him by his Christian name. You are like family to me, and he feels the same way."
"Good Lord." Alice sat back. "What about if I called him Masen? Isn't that more acceptable for a close acquaintance of a lord?"
"Typically, yes, but after not hearing it spoken for a decade, he has discovered he is quite partial to the sound of his given name . . . and he does so enjoy breaking with the traditions he finds tiresome."
"Well, I am all for breaking with tradition," Alice said with a smirk. "Edward it is, then, and of course he must call me Alice in return."
Her wry tone let Isabella know she was quite aware his motivation was to further secure his wife's best friend's standing in the community, as few folks could say they were on first-name basis with a viscount.
"I saw you chatting with Mr Whitlock earlier," Isabella said, looking to where the handsome, fair-haired gentleman was standing in the centre of a circle of Forkton womanhood, his expression somewhat hunted. "No dishes were thrown or insults hurled. Dare I hope there's been some improvement on that front?"
"I wouldn't hold your breath," Alice muttered. "It was a brief encounter, the best kind where the two of us are concerned. I overheard him saying his son was doing poorly, which is hardly surprising considering he insists on engaging London physicians who practise the utmost barbarity. I would have liked to offer my sympathies, but since it went so badly the last time I broached the subject, I was reduced to making some inane comment about the weather."
"At least you tried." Isabella offered her friend an encouraging smile, puzzled by the animosity between the two. Mr Whitlock was the epitome of congeniality—with anyone other than the village healer who might actually do his son some good. Whatever the reason for his prejudice, Edward was yet to uncover it.
"Not sure why I bothered," Alice said. "I still haven't forgiven him for making me ride his horse astride the day you fainted. As if it wasn't bad enough he dragged me out of the Eastons' parlour like I was sack of potatoes, he insisted there was no time to fetch a carriage. Next thing I knew, I was perched atop his mount, without a by your leave, and he had clambered up behind me. The dreadful man received an eyeful of my calves and ankles, as I ended up with my skirts hiked around my knees."
Isabella giggled, then covered her mouth, the action unbecoming for a viscountess.
"Has he ever spoken of it?" she asked.
Alice shook her head. "He wouldn't dare, not after the tongue lashing I gave him on the ride up from the village. To be honest, I don't think the man even noticed my legs were on display, which is hardly flattering, as he was so worried about you."
"Worried about how Edward would cope if anything were to happen to me, you mean."
"That, too." Alice's smile fell, and she quickly reinstated it, but her efforts appeared more forced than natural.
Before Isabella could remonstrate with her friend over her unnecessary pessimism, fearing her husband was susceptible to its influence, Edward announced it was time to adjourn to the ballroom for the afternoon's entertainment. Intrigued, Isabella badgered him for an explanation while he escorted her on the journey, but his lips remained sealed.
Upon discovering the velvet-padded chairs from the dining hall arranged in rows and a string quartet preparing to perform, her eyes lit up.
"A concert. Oh, Edward, how wonderful," she said, barely resisting the urge to reach up and kiss him in her excitement. Seated beside him in the front row, Isabella's smile stretched her cheeks as she listened to some of her favourite compositions played by the expert troupe. Her breath hitched occasionally at the painful prodding of the baby's feet under her ribs, and she ignored the pressure on her bladder for as long as possible. But there was no denying her relief when an intermission was called. Not wanting to miss a single note, she attempted a hobbling run down the hallway on her return from the necessary, one hand supporting her belly in an unladylike manner.
"Isabella, what are you thinking?" Edward strode towards her before steadying her with his hands to her elbows. "There is no need to rush. You're the guest of honour. The concert is not about to resume without you."
"Oh, of course." She shook her head, still occasionally forgetting how much had changed in the last year. Her status in society was no longer one rung above invisible and, more importantly, she now had someone looking out for her needs. "Thank you so much, Edward. This is the best birthday I have ever had."
"I'm glad you feel that way, but it is not over yet." Less concerned with convention than his wife, he placed a kiss on her cheek. "I have something special planned for after the horde departs. A private gift."
"Another gift?" Isabella whispered as they took their seats for the second half of the concert. "But you have already given me this lovely bracelet." She lifted her wrist to show off the colourful charms. "Not to mention organising a party and a concert. I don't need anything more."
"Stop scolding," he murmured, leaning scandalously close to her ear. "It is something we will both enjoy."
"Oh." Isabella fanned her suddenly flushed cheeks.
After the first few trying months, she had been surprised to discover that her confinement, rather than dampening her desire for her husband, as one would have supposed, increased her longing to be with him. It took very little for her imagination to become exercised, and she found herself moving restlessly in her seat as she wondered what he had planned. She just hoped the party didn't drag on too late, as she didn't want to miss out due to fatigue.
Edward was clearly of a like mind, the brevity of his farewells after the concert bordering on rudeness.
"I warned everyone ahead of time that I would not allow you to be overextended," he said when she raised her concern. "This way, they can be safely home before dark, and you and I can enjoy the next part of your gift. Now why don't we go upstairs and take a short nap, then Angela will help you prepare."
"Prepare?" Isabella's imagination embarked on a flight of fancy. In none of the exotic scenarios flooding her thoughts did she picture herself changing into one of her stunning ball gowns or having her hair piled in an extravagant arrangement atop her head.
"There," her lady's maid said as she fastened the clasp of the rubies that matched Isabella's burgundy satin and gold silk and beaded gown. "You look perfect. I shall go tell His Lordship you're ready."
Ready for what? Isabella wasn't at all sure how she would cope with a ball after her busy afternoon, even with the benefit of a nap. Meeting Edward in the hallway and finding him attired in equally elegant eveningwear, her apprehension increased. But when they entered the ballroom, rather than the crowd she had feared, Isabella encountered a table set for two beneath one of the candlelit chandeliers that illuminated the room. Enjoying a lavish dinner while being serenaded by the musical quartet was the perfect end to a perfect day, or so Isabella assumed.
"This has been lovely," she said as they finished their dessert. "But I am not sure why we needed to get quite so dressed up, or why you chose this location. Couldn't the musicians have set up in one of the dining rooms?"
"They could have, but then we wouldn't have had room to do this." He pushed back his chair and came to stand before her. "Would you do me the honour, my lady?" he asked, extending his hand.
Isabella took it willingly, though she was still perplexed about his intentions. It was only after he had escorted her to the middle of the ballroom that he nodded to the musicians who began playing a waltz . . . a very slow waltz. Isabella frowned as he extended their clasped hands out to his left then placed his right hand at her waist. Her stomach came between them, and she had seen him favouring his right leg earlier in the day. "Are you sure about this?" she asked as they took their first, tentative steps.
"Very," he said with a decisive nod. "I have dreamed about this moment, having watched you dance from the sidelines for long enough. Although it was never to the waltz, for which I am profoundly grateful. We've no audience to worry about, and I have instructed the musicians to maintain a stately tempo. I've been practising, so we should be all right, but I don't care if we're not graceful. I want to dance with my wife on her birthday, even if it is just once around the room."
Tears filled Isabella's eyes, and she quickly blinked them away.
"I can think of nothing I would rather do at this moment than dance with my husband."
Her tentative smile grew wider as they found their rhythm, a slightly halting one, but a rhythm nonetheless. With their gazes locked, they moved together with the music in slow but sweeping circles around the shimmering ballroom. Contrary to Edward's prediction, they managed three entire circuits before his leg threatened to give way. It was more than enough to create a memory Isabella would cherish for a lifetime.
With the magical evening far from over, they sat and caught their breath as the quartet continued to play. Inspired by the music of some of the world's greatest composers, Isabella put her imagination to good work when they eventually retired to their room and added more memories to the ones they had already collected.
~P&P~
I decided to leave this chapter on this uplifting note and give our poor nerves a rest!
Unfortunately, I have a very busy day of work ahead tomorrow, so I will have to skip tomorrow's update. I will see you all again on Wednesday.
In the meantime, what's the best birthday present or party you have ever had? I love hearing your stories if you have time to share.
xx Elise