A New Day Will Come

She stood for a while, thinking but also held still in thought, somehow. The day had been a tiring one, and yet it had started off so well. Her mind had been on Lady Mary, Mr Talbot and their predicament – which seemed to be all but resolved now – and now she knew exactly why. It had distracted her from her own worries, which she couldn't seem to get shut of, no matter how many days or weeks passed. That she couldn't be completely happy frustrated her. Even now, when Miss Baxter had offered her good wishes, something had stopped her short from doing anything other than accepting them with a polite smile. She wished that she could shout about it, as private of a person as she was.

Today had proved to her why she was right to be cautious; you never knew what was around the corner. At the same time she had been foolish enough to go bolting after Lady Mary. One hand went to her abdomen, by way of apology. The other fitted to the small of her back, rubbing a faint ache that had been there since she had gone about her evening duties.

John's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she was a little surprised that it sounded nearer. She turned to find him out of his bed, looking more as she was used to seeing him.

"Do you need any help?"

She shook her head, not entirely sure of why she was refusing. "We're not at that stage yet." She was glad that her voice sounded bright and teasing, rather than the opposite.

Looking at him standing there, she couldn't stop herself from giggling. Just doing so once brought a release from the emotion of the day, and she felt the clouds lifting once more.

"Dare I even ask," he began, his eyes showing amusement at her display.

"I'm just picturing you waiting on His Lordship in those," she replied, nodding towards the somewhat well-worn pyjamas. "Don't mind me, not after today."

"I will never complain about hearing you laugh."

She smiled at him, hands reaching to tug at one of her sleeves. "Get back to bed. I can manage perfectly well."

His brow furrowed a little as he frowned, though she could tell that it wasn't about her.

"I don't like that there'll be space between us."

She chuckled at his tone, which sounded a little childish. "You should be used to it by now. Anyway, it's only for one night more."

After dithering she was making up for the time, the black dress off and draped over her arm. She arranged it into place before working with her hair. All the while she could feel John's eyes on her, which made her smile as she went about her usual routine.

"I'd say that you were getting quite used to having your own space, by the way I found you. As time goes on, you'll be wishing you had a bed to yourself."

He shook his head, the smile full on his face, more than accommodating for his silence on the matter.

"Oh well, then. I suppose the floor will have to do."

"It won't be a hardship for me," he eventually answered, his gaze flitting between her face and her middle. She felt a touch vulnerable standing there in her slip, but John's presence made her feel protected, and she also felt she owed him somehow. Owed herself, too. "I'm glad to know that you're looking ahead."

She began to mirror the smile that he wore, feeling encouraged and greater at ease. As if to shine a light upon it she pulled the fabric taut against her, highlighting the bump that had begun to form. She had tried to stop herself from imagining it growing bigger, felt as though it would be tempting fate in its cruellest form. Miss Baxter's happy words of congratulations came back into her mind, but it was the pure pride, excitement and love in her husband's eyes, and which formed his whole demeanour, that had the truest effect on the changing bent of her thinking.

In that moment she looked at him straight and knew that he was able to read her mind, as he was so often able to. Right then she was more than glad to let him in.

"Yes," she said, her head held high, "I'd say it's the only way to look."

Nobody knew what each day would bring, from lords and ladies to the poorest that could be. And yet the truth was that there was good in every day. Some days it was harder to spot or didn't turn up until the close was drawing near, but it was always there.

Before she went to sleep that night, with the feeling of John's hand in hers still lingering as they bridged the gap between their two single beds, she felt assured – perhaps truly, for the first time – of all of the good that was waiting to meet them.