AN: Here we are, another piece to this one.

I hope you enjoy! If you do enjoy, please do let me know!

111

The walk to the village was nice, and Eglantine and Carrie took their time. Carrie walked with her arm looped through Eglantine's, and Eglantine enjoyed the simple show of affection. They greeted anyone they saw with smiles and quick nods, making their way to the little shop in town where Mrs. Hobday was a veritable jack-of-all-trades that managed the mail and the general store—a task her husband took over when she wasn't able to do it.

Mrs. Hobday was interested in the affairs of everyone in the village. As Charles had said, though perhaps Eglantine would have chosen other words to express the same sentiment, as soon as she knew something, the whole of Pepperinge Eye would know.

As they reached the store, Eglantine felt her chest tighten and her breathing become a little shallower than before. She imagined her knees felt a bit shakier and her head felt a bit dizzy—perhaps, even, her senses felt duller.

Eglantine reached a hand out and rested it against the side of the building.

Immediately, Carrie was hugging her other arm.

"Miss Price, are you OK?"

Eglantine was actually thankful for Carrie's outburst. It pulled her out of the feelings that had overwhelmed her a moment, and she laughed quietly. She could often tell how her children were feeling based on what they called her. Carrie and Charles, in particular, reverted to "Miss Price" if they were ever too overcome to remember the titles they were still really learning to use.

"I'm fine," she said, straightening up as she got control of some of the anxiety that had threatened to overwhelm her for a moment. "Just got a bit dizzy, that's all."

"Do you need the doctor?"

"Oh heavens, no," Eglantine assured her, patting her hand. "I'm really fine. I just—got a bit overwhelmed, that's all." She frowned at Carrie who was looking far too concerned. She offered Carrie a smile. A little honesty, she decided, would go a long way with Carrie. "You see, Carrie, I'm just a little nervous, really, I'm sure. I've never even imagined announcing something like this before. I haven't even really thought about it since I found out. It's one thing for all of us to share this, but it feels like another, entirely, to share it with everyone."

Carrie practically beamed. Eglantine assumed it had something to do with the shared confidence as much as anything else.

"Don't worry, Mum," she said, slipping back into the use of her chosen title for Eglantine. "We'll tell Mrs. Hobday together."

Eglantine allowed Carrie to tug her arm and lead her into the store.

Mrs. Hobday was the only one present in the store at the moment, and she was immediately delighted to see the both of them. She came from around the counter.

"Miss Price! Oh—I beg you're pardon. Mrs. Browne! Takes some getting used to…my apologies."

Eglantine smiled, already feeling more of her anxiety dissipate.

"I'm still getting used to it, myself," she said.

"What can I help you with today?" Mrs. Hobday asked. "I don't think there are any letters from Mr. Browne. I usually notice them as soon as they come in. It's been a few days, hasn't it?"

"Nearly two weeks," Eglantine said, her chest aching a little at the thought that it had been so long since she'd at least held in her hand a piece of paper that had, somewhat recently, if nothing else, come from him.

Mrs. Hobday smiled reassuringly.

"I'm sure it won't be long," she said. "Then, you're likely to get in a dozen at once."

"That is true," Eglantine agreed. "I think they hold onto them. We did bring letters to post to Mr. Browne. Carrie?"

Carrie pulled the letters from the bag she'd worn across her shoulder to fill with items that they purchased. Eglantine had also brought a bag so that they could make all their necessary purchases while they were in the village. Mrs. Hobday took the letters and placed them in the basket where she sorted outgoing mail.

"What else can I do for you?" Mrs. Hobday asked. "Will you be needing anything for all the work you've been doing lately?"

"No," Eglantine said. "I believe I've got all that I need for that. We'll pick up a few things for supper, I believe. And—I'm in need of some clothing."

Eglantine thought she saw something register on Mrs. Hobday's face. It appeared to be only a second of surprise followed by something that almost felt like recognition. Then, the woman smiled.

"You can look at what we have," she said. "I am putting in orders for specific requests, but I'm afraid that we aren't getting too many deliveries these days."

"I know," Eglantine said. "And—I'm not very selective. I know that there were some collections taken up…I contributed to them."

Mrs. Hobday had tried to do everything she could to ease the burden of the happenings in surrounding areas for the people of Pepperinge Eye. She had taken up a collection of donations of clothing, since they weren't receiving a lot of clothing that wasn't specially ordered and, therefore, more expensive. It had been her own idea. Everything donated would be sold at a fraction of the price of new clothing, and the money collected was going to help the families that had taken in orphans.

Eglantine was happy to refuse the money offered to her for the care of her children. She didn't need it. She had her inheritance and the supplemental money she earned. In addition, she'd told Mrs. Hobday, in no uncertain terms, and she'd had the same information passed on to the church for their offered donations, that she had adopted the children—even though the final paperwork had been slowed down and hadn't yet been processed, to her knowledge, she considered them adopted—and, therefore, she didn't need to take the money being offered for orphans.

The Browne children were not orphans—not any longer.

Mrs. Hobday frowned at her.

"Well, now," she said, "there was a great deal collected. Not a lot of it's sold, though."

"Perfect," Eglantine said. "Are you still donating money raised from it to those in need?"

"Of course," Mrs. Hobday said, waving at Eglantine to follow her toward the back of the store. "Only—I have to tell you that it's unlikely you'll find anything there you like. I'm a woman who can admit when I'm wrong, and what I thought was a good opportunity to help everyone in the community seems to have been something that only benefitted those hoping to get rid of rags and other undesirable garments."

"Oh—I'm not too bothered by that," Eglantine said. "I've been known to work a little magic with a needle and thread."

She winked at Carrie who giggled. She didn't really used magic when sewing, but Carrie would still find the pun humorous.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" Mrs. Hobday asked, showing Eglantine the oversized collection of discarded clothing, rejected for one reason or another from everyone's closets.

Eglantine started rummaging through it.

Her anxiety was almost gone now—almost.

"Something with some room to grow," she said. "I can tailor it to my needs, but…space, for now, is all that's important."

"Something a bit larger…" Mrs. Hobday said, her words trailing off to make it clear that she was asking for explanation while also trying not to ask for explanation.

"In my current condition," Eglantine said, "I think it's wise."

"Condition?" Mrs. Hobday pressed.

Eglantine glanced at Carrie and smiled, clearly giving her the opportunity to speak. The little girl was nearly bursting, pretending to go through the clothes while she obviously struggled to hold back the information that she was desperate to share.

"Mum's going to have a baby!" Carrie blurted excitedly.

Eglantine was surprised by how her body reacted to hearing the words out loud and outside of the protected safety of their home. Her pulse kicked up, but she felt almost choked with happiness.

"Oh! Mrs. Browne! A blessed little angel!" Mrs. Hobday declared, clasping her hands together. "Oh—what a blessing for you and Mr. Browne! You'll have quite the household with four little ones under your roof!"

"There may be more than that to come," Carrie offered.

"Now—that's just…she only means eventually, it's a possibility. For now, however…"

Eglantine straightened up, a few half-made selections tossed over her arm. Mrs. Hobday grabbed her arm affectionately and squeezed. The happiness on the woman's face was genuine, and it radiated outward. Eglantine hadn't expected to feel moved by it, and she had to swallow rapidly not to feel like she was at risk of truly bursting into tears.

"Oh—of course it's a possibility," Mrs. Hobday said. "Once a family's been blessed, well…it's often just a matter of time, isn't it, before the family continues to grow? I'll confess something—I had my suspicions. Last you were in here; I noticed the glow about you and the…well…there's a certain something about a new expectant mother. I said to myself, I'll bet she has a baby before a whole year has come and gone."

Eglantine smiled.

"It seems you were right," she said. "I never imagined I would have children, and now…I couldn't imagine my life any differently. I wouldn't want to, honestly."

"Motherhood looks good on you Mrs. Browne. If you don't mind my saying, from my perspective, it's done you a world of good. A natural mother, that's what I would call you." She looked at Carrie who was grinning as she watched the conversation, still holding onto something she'd been pretending to examine for Eglantine. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh—yes ma'am," Carrie said sincerely and enthusiastically. "She's the best Mum we could have."

Eglantine had to focus, once more, on simply not crying. This time, she wasn't wholly successful. She immediately went for a handkerchief in her bag, but Mrs. Hobday was faster than she was, holding one out to her. She touched Eglantine's shoulder affectionately.

"Now—you can have that, a woman in your condition often makes good use of them," she said. "You can hardly help it. It's all part and parcel of the whole thing. Tell me—when is the blessed event?"

"Oh…" Eglantine said, "well…the doctor wasn't entirely precise…these things seldom are exact, you know, but…there should be approximately six months left before the baby comes."

"You'll be needing a midwife to assist you," Mrs. Hobday said, smiling warmly, "and I've a lot of experience bringing little ones into the world."

"The doctor…"

"Hardly has the touch for such things," Mrs. Hobday said, laughing quietly. "Childbirth is a woman's specialty. I'll be happy to help you. You needn't worry, Mrs. Browne. We'll get your little one here safe and sound."

Eglantine felt, all at once, as though she'd been doused in icy cold water. It hit her, all at once and far too completely, that she was having a baby. Of course, she'd already known that, but it seemed to strike her at a level that she hadn't quite reached before. She was expecting a baby and, in some six months or so, she would have to deliver that baby into the world.

She would need help to deliver a baby into the world because, honestly, she suddenly felt like she had no idea how she was going to do that, or if she even could.

"Are you alright?" Carrie asked.

"Come—have a seat, Mrs. Browne," Mrs. Hobday said, tugging at Eglantine's hand. "You're looking a little pale. Let's get your head down. Back up, Carrie, my dear—she'll be needing some air."

"I'm fine," Eglantine said quickly, coming fully back into herself. "I'm fine, really. I just…"

"You look a little faint," Mrs. Hobday said. She held to Eglantine, now, and Carrie held to her other side. She felt perfectly supported between the two of them. "It's nothing to be ashamed of and not entirely abnormal in your condition. You're doing a great deal of work that you're hardly aware of, my dear, taking care of your little one. You're sure you won't sit? We wouldn't want to have you fall and get hurt."

"I'm fine, really," Eglantine insisted again. "I was just a little dizzy. To be honest, I can't sit…not safely and certainly not comfortably." She laughed to herself over the fact that she was about to admit her embarrassing truth. "This skirt is pinned in place and the pin is very precarious. You see—I came to buy some clothes with a bit more give, for that reason. I've let my own clothes out as far as I can, I'm afraid."

"Oh—we'll find plenty that you can tailor to suit your needs," Mrs. Hobday said, reassuringly and with a touch of excitement.

"I suppose you're right," Eglantine mused, thinking about the conversation that they'd been having. "I hadn't thought about it, but I will require the services of a midwife."

"Say nothing more," Mrs. Hobday said. "I'll be happy to help."

"I'm afraid—I feel silly admitting, but…I feel like I'm not sure that I'll know what to do," Eglantine said.

"Every mother feels that way her first time," Mrs. Hobday assured her. "Believe me, you'll know. It's instinct, my dear. And I have enough experience delivering babies for the both of us. Don't you be nervous. It will be wonderful, in its way, and you'll be blessed with a brand-new little angel. Why, by the second time, you won't even be worried at all."

"Now, we haven't even…"

Mrs. Hobday interrupted her by squeezing her arm and laughing.

"Just a bit of teasing, Mrs. Browne," Mrs. Hobday assured her. "Now—let's see what we can find that you can work with. You're welcome to take the whole lot, if anything will work."

"I'll buy what I take," Eglantine said. "I'd like to support those who took in orphans from the city."

"Says the woman who took in three, herself, to keep and raise…" Mrs. Hobday mused.

"The children are no longer orphans," Eglantine corrected, "and we prefer not to use the term in our home."

"Of course, you don't," Mrs. Hobday agreed. "They aren't orphans at all. The first three of a beautiful, growing family. Mr. Browne must be so excited."

Eglantine smiled. Her heart fluttered in her chest, but she didn't feel dizzy this time, and she was thankful for that. Perhaps, she thought, she would keep her proverbial sea legs now that she had crossed several humps related to the pregnancy.

"He doesn't know yet," Eglantine said.

"Doesn't know?!" Mrs. Hobday exclaimed.

"I'm afraid he left before I knew about the baby," Eglantine said.

"That's true," Mrs. Hobday said. "Now that you mention it…oh—it's terribly sad that you've been separated for nearly as long as you've been married. Why—you hardly had time to enjoy one another at all." She laughed quietly and covered her mouth, as though guarding Carrie from what she was about to say. However, she didn't do an excellent job, and Eglantine was sure that one of her children, before too long, was bound to expect more than the proverbial stork-type explanation of how she had come to be with child. "I suppose you had enough time to enjoy each other just a bit, now…I would say."

Eglantine felt her face grow warm.

"I agree that we had far too little time together, as a family, before Mr. Browne left," Eglantine said, ignoring some part of what Mrs. Hobday had said, and otherwise finding that she was happy to have someone to talk to, even if that someone was likely to share her feelings with half of Pepperinge Eye. "The children and I do miss him terribly."

"Have you any word on when he'll be returning?"

"None yet," Eglantine said. "He's on a voluntarily basis for the time being, so he can return at any time. I thought I'd wait and tell him about the baby when he's home—at least for a while. I would so prefer to tell him in person."

"Including it in a letter may bring him home more quickly," Mrs. Hobday offered. "I'm sure he'd be a wonderful comfort to you and the children. A new bride, and an expectant mother, shouldn't be lonely all the time. It isn't good for the health, Dear."

"I'm hardly ever lonely," Eglantine said. "I have the children to keep me company."

Mrs. Hobday gave her a soft smile.

"I'm sure you do," she said. "Well—I'm sure Mr. Browne will be excited when he hears the news. In the meantime, if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. When it comes to little ones, I know a few things."

"I appreciate the offer, and your help," Eglantine said sincerely. She looked back through the clothes, coming up with quite a few items that she thought she could use. "I may be back for a few more things, but I believe this will get me started with the absolute necessities." She laughed quietly. "Maybe a bit more room in my clothes will help with the dizziness."

"Of course, it will," Mrs. Hobday said. "You need to have fresh air, and plenty of it. It's good for growing babies. Let me have your list, and I'll get your things for your supper."

Carrie handed over the list and the woman went about gathering the items that Carrie tucked in her bag. When they were done, Eglantine paid the bill for their purchases, the postage for the letters, and for the donations for the clothing. Then, she tucked the clothing into her own bag.

"I hope, for your sake, that all this war business is over soon," Mrs. Hobday said, "and Mr. Browne can return home to you and the children—and the news of your little angel."

Eglantine smiled in response to the woman's genuine smile and tone.

"Thank you," Eglantine said. "I do, too, sincerely. Come along, Carrie—we have a few more stops to make, and then I have some rather urgent sewing to do."

"I can help you," Carrie assured her, following along behind her. "We can have you wearing something much more comfortable before supper."

"I was certain you would help me," Eglantine said. "And I shall appreciate your help immensely, as I always do."