Chapter 9

She was laying in the library on a large, overstuffed sofa James had provided for her comfort, curled up under a comforter despite the relatively mild weather outside, and enjoying a rather droll book about a girl named Emma. There honestly wasn't much else to do as the pregnancy drew to an end, but to read and to rest. It was more exhausting than she had anticipated, the drain of supporting and nurturing a nearly full-grown child inside her. She was always tired, and even moving around in the ways she used to was increasingly difficult. Some days, she even needed to lean on James just to get from her room down to the library. The constant walks they had taken together on the grounds in the early days of their marriage were very much a thing of the past.

He was a constant presence now, never quite managing to crowd her, but always within earshot should she call out to him for anything. He loved helping her, seemed to genuinely enjoy fetching and carrying and helping her get around. She half-suspected that he would have helped her to the loo if she'd asked. She was so bulky now that there were actually times when an extra set of hands to help her balance would have been useful.

She giggled as she imagined the picture they'd make if he did help her with that particular chore, setting her book on her knee and taking a moment to compose herself.

"What has you so amused?" James asked with a curious smile, entering the library.

"Oh, nothing. Never mind," she chuckled, shaking her head and resting a hand on her stomach. "The baby must be in a good mood, because I'm feeling quite silly."

"Nothing wrong a bit of silliness," he pointed out, walking over and lightly resting his hand against hers. "You have a visitor."

"A visitor?" she asked, frowning. "Who could possibly want to see me?" she wanted to know, trying to think.

Nigel and Nikola were not scheduled to visit again until after the school year was over, and her father was probably already on his way to India where some rare species was under threat from humans. She'd gotten a long letter about it from him not a week ago. Which was why she gasped as he walked into the library.

"Father!" she exclaimed, struggling to her feet.

"Steady, Helen," James murmured, reaching out to support and balance her. "Sit down."

"But, Father, what are you doing here?" she asked, waddling over and throwing her arms around his neck.

"My ship was delayed for a few days and I could think of no better way to spend the time than with my daughter." He laughed, hugging her close with a happy sigh. "Look at you, sweetheart. You're radiant. Positively glowing. Is this scoundrel treating you well, then?"

"James has been kindness itself," she assured him, grinning as her husband blushed in answer to that. "He's taking better care of me even than you did."

Gregory looked a tad wistful at that, but then he smiled and gently stroked her cheek. "As it should be. Every girl deserves a good husband. And you, young man, had better do right by my little girl," he added with mock-gravity, waggling his finger at James.

"Of course, sir. I care for your daughter very much," James assured him solemnly. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, or for our child."

"I'm glad to hear it," her father answered, smiling warmly, grasping James by the hand, and shaking it. "She's not giving you too much trouble, I hope?"

She blushed at that, shaking her head. "Father!"

"Helen isn't in the habit of making trouble for others unless they make trouble for her first," James murmured, moving to her side and helping her to sit again. "We get on just fine," he assured him, covering her with the blanket again. "Why don't I leave you two to your conversation?"

She started to protest, but her father gestured his assent, drawing an arm-chair close to the sofa as James stepped out of the library.

"There, now we can have a nice talk in private," he told her with a smile, sitting down next to her and reaching for her hand. "Tell me how you're feeling. You look well."

"I'm afraid I can't confess to feeling the same," she answered, biting her lip. "I'm tired all the time, and tender and sore in... many delicate locations."

"Ah, yes, some of those disadvantages of pregnancy that can't be mentioned in polite company. Your mother had the same difficulties. But she felt they were worth it. Don't you?"

"I'll be happy when my body is my own again, I won't deny. But I can't complain, either. We're looking forward to the arrival. James has great plans to spoil the child shamelessly. The nursery is already full of toys, and he's already planning which books to stock it with in a few years..."

He smiled warmly at her words. "It sounds like you're happy with him. I knew you could be."

"He's a good man. He's not what I planned for my future, admittedly, but we're comfortable together. He's a kind man, and always has our best interests at heart," she told him quietly, staring down at her stomach.

"You're still troubled that you don't love him?" he ventured.

"It doesn't seem right."

He sighed at that, taking one of her hands gently in both of his. "It's only been a few months. Give it time, girl. Getting to know each other is only the first step. Establishing a comfortable routine is as good a next step as any. I would never have advocated this marriage if I didn't believe that love between the two of you was a strong possibility. You have such a good deal in common, and you'll have even more in common once you're raising a child together."

"I know. I just... don't think I'll feel that... that spark that I used to feel for John," she admitted, sighing.

"There are different kinds of love, child, some deeper and more enduring than others. Don't think that passion is the only solid foundation for a life together. Passion's not stable. Passion fades, or is disappointed and dashed to pieces that way. However it dies, and it always does, it belies its own beginnings. You feel like it will endure forever, but it's so transient."

If he hadn't been her father, she might have argued the point, suggested that passion was a great source of strength and motivation, to say nothing of happiness and pleasure. But how could a woman who had gotten pregnant out of wedlock argue the merits of passion to her own father?

"You disagree," he noted, despite her silence, "but you won't forever. I've lived longer, seen more. I see what you miss, Helen. Just give him a chance and you'll see for yourself."

"You didn't come all this way to tell me to give my own husband a chance," she whispered, biting her lip. "James and I are bound together for life now. You needn't worry that I'll do anything to hurt or betray him, or to damage the marriage. You know this, Father."

"I do. But a quiet life isn't all I want for you. I'd like to see you have a happy one, too."

"As happy as it can be," she promised with a smile, resting her free hand on her stomach. "I'm luckier than I could have been, by far. I don't know exactly what the future holds, but I promise you, I have no reason to believe it will be particularly unhappy."

"That's not the same as saying you're optimistic," he noted gently.

"Father, you can trust me to make the best of things," she promised, smiling up at him. "I'll be far happier than most women are in their marriages. I have a comfortable home, a good husband, a child on the way. I'm actually quite blessed."

"I'm glad you think so. I was starting to worry that your academic interests would keep you from wanting a family, and that really is something everyone should have a chance to experience. You never had a mother, so you've never really experienced having a true family. Now you'll be able to."

"I've never considered myself lacking in family, Father. I had you, and now I have James, Nigel, and Nikola. I've never needed more. Having a child will be delightful, but you and my friends always gave me enough. Please, don't ever feel like I grew up lacking anything important. As long as I had you, I had all the family I needed. I know you always loved me, Father, just as I always loved you, and always shall."

"Bless you, sweetheart," he murmured, squeezing her hand.

"We think the air of London may not be best for the baby, so we'll probably remain here for a few years. Will you come and visit?"

"As often as I can," he assured her, smiling and nodding.

"When you're not working, of course. I wish I could share your work."

"Some day, Helen. Motherhood won't keep you busy forever," he promised. "You and James will both take your rightful place alongside me with time. My work could use two minds like yours. Maybe, some day, your sons will work alongside us, too."

"Just any sons?" she countered, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled at the look on her face, smiling and shaking his head. "And any daughters who are so-inclined, of course."

"Good. I'd have been disappointed to think that you didn't want your own granddaughter to aid in our work."

He looked bemused at that, then smiled again. "So you and James have settled on it being a girl?"

"He thinks it must be. I say there's no way to be sure."

"And you're right, of course. It doesn't do to get your hopes up one way or the other."

"Did you have your hopes raised before I was born?" she asked, biting her lip. "A son to follow in your footsteps?"

"My daughter will follow in my footsteps just fine. After this slight detour."

"Yes, but did you wish..."

"It doesn't matter what I wished, sweetheart. I had you. You exceeded all expectations, by far. What more could I have wished for than a girl as brilliant and compassionate as you? I have a wish now, though. Boy or girl, I wish for a child even half so extraordinary as its mother."

She blushed at that, unable to meet his eye. "Thank you, Father. I'll do my best to raise it into the kind of grandchild you can be proud of."

"I've no doubt we'll both be proud," he assured her. "Just you wait and see."

"I believe you, Father," she whispered, nodding and smiling. "I really do believe you."