"Haven't seen you down here in a while," Mrs. Blatherwick said with a teasing smile as she saw Evangeline on the stairs. "I hear you've lost your appetite."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. Can't be helped."

"I haven't been sick yet," she said as she approached the cook at the counter. Once there, she set down a handful of leaves. "I'd like to keep it that way. Tora said you used to boil these for Mrs. Brown?"

"Right I did," Mrs. Blatherwick chuckled. "Don't know how I'd forgotten."

"Does it really help?"

She shrugged. "Depends, I guess."

"I'll try anything."

"That bad?"

Moving for the table, Evangeline answered, "Hard to say. I don't feel well, but Cedric and I have been arguing so I don't think I can blame it all on the baby."

"What is it this time?"

"Hard to say again," she sighed as she sat. "It started off trivial, but it became something deeper. We haven't spoken much the past couple of days."

"Sounds to me like you might just be spending too much time together."

"Maybe."

"Don't worry, pet. It'll pass."

"I don't know."

Mrs. Blatherwick turned with raised eyebrows. "That serious, eh?"

"It just seems like all of the bad things about our marriage are coming out nowadays. Not that it's really an issue of the two of us together. More the situation. Cedric still feels torn between wives and I feel…"

"Unloved?" she offered.

Evangeline turned around in her seat. "I was thinking more along the lines of second best. I know that Cedric loves me. As much as he can, anyway."

"Take comfort in that then. The rest will come with time. You're still newlyweds."

"It's hard sometimes. It feels like the more I try to be okay with how things are and have to be in our relationship the more upset I become. It's not intentional. I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I'd take my worst day with Cedric over any day without him."

"Are you implying that you're jealous of Agatha?"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" she scoffed. "I knew all along he could never love me in the same capacity. It didn't bother me at first. I was happy he loved me at all. But now that we're going to have a child together and now that I've got to know him as more than my employer, I can't help but wish sometimes that he'd been able to love me first. I know that's terribly selfish, and I suppose the guilt's got me upset."

"Have you ever told him you feel that way?"

"It's been implied. Then he feels bad. Then we fight."

"Like I said. In time those things will matter less."

"Maybe it's the baby."

"Could be part. Your hormones are going to be all over the place for a while."

"I'll be glad once it's here and we have another focus. The dread around the birth is really getting to me."

"You think maybe that's really what's got you so down?"

"I suppose," Evangeline said, sinking a bit against the chair. "Or it's brought the rest to light."

"Well," Mrs. Blatherwick said as the kettle whistled, "I'm excited for ya. I don't suspect anything will go wrong."

"Really?"

"Don't see why it should. You're young and manage to keep up with the kiddies. The midwife is excellent. Keeps a cool head in a crisis. She'll assure you."

"Right," she said tensely.

"Have you told her your concerns?"

"No…"

At the ambivalence, Mrs. Blatherwick raised an eyebrow. "You have spoken to her, have you?"

Evangeline remained silent.

"Bloomin' hell."

"We… aren't telling anyone yet. The kids only know because they overheard and you know because you figured it out."

"The midwife doesn't count."

"I'll get around to it."

The tea now poured, Mrs. Blatherwick came to the table with the cup and saucer. "I think we've opened a new can of worms."

Evangeline crossed her arms. "What is she going to tell me at this point? I know I'm pregnant. I'm slowly beginning to show. It's not as though I'm on my own here. I'll need her more once I'm further along."

"Maybe," Mrs. Blatherwick said as she sat, "but this is the time when you get to know her."

"I do know her."

"You knew her when you were a servant."

"What difference does it make?" she asked stubbornly, though she knew the answer.

Mrs. Blatherwick huffed.

"I'm nervous, all right?" Evangeline admitted. "Suppose she tells me bad news."

"She's not a doctor. There's no telling until the baby comes unless you're quite poorly. She's here to give you support."

"But she knew Mrs. Brown. It's one more person comparing me to her. I haven't been able to face the idea. I just… want to be me for a little while. Figure this out on my own."

"I sympathize. I do. But you need all the help you can get with the birth. You know I'll be there, but delivering babies? That's not my area."

"I'm not saying I'll never contact her," Evangeline said in defense. "Only that I'm not quite ready yet."

"Just don't put it off too much longer. You're what, three months now?"

She nodded.

Mrs. Blatherwick shook her head. "Can't say I envy you."

"I'm beginning to resent this pregnancy as much as I want the baby. Everything has become so stressful. It can't be good for it."

"No," Mrs. Blatherwick agreed. "You need to do what you can to relax."

"Precisely why I haven't talked to the midwife. Cedric is so easily reminded of Agatha. This might push him over the edge."

"Give him a chance. Just because it isn't easy for him doesn't mean it's impossible for him to show up for you when you need him."

Evangeline wrapped her hands around the warm teacup, keeping her eyes fixed on the contents as she pulled it closer to her. As upset as she still was with Cedric, she wasn't angry enough to disclose to anyone the depth of his grief as of late. "I suppose you're right," is what she said instead. Still, she had no intention of speaking to the midwife in the near future.

. . .

Evangeline didn't hear Cedric come home from work. She'd been held up in the study most of the afternoon. The kids were rambunctious today, and while they weren't necessarily misbehaving, she had little tolerance for the noise. She'd already snapped at Eric for something foolish after lunch. So long as she didn't hear yelling and crying, she was fine letting them have run of the house for a while.

For the past ten minutes, she'd been thumbing through her calendar book. She'd left it forgotten in the drawer since that day she'd opened it to see how late she was. She hadn't missed keeping track of her days. Now that it was in front of her again, she felt a resentment toward it and all it represented. She'd be happy to throw it in the rubbish and never look back. What good had it done anyhow? At best, it'd only helped her delay the inevitable.

She counted five times over from the last date she'd ticked off to now. It added up to just under four months. But did that mean she was further along than she expected? She knew for certain she and Cedric hadn't been intimate during that time. They never were. So did that mean she'd conceived a week after? Three weeks? Probably not two. The fertility timelines were so murky. She truly didn't have a clue, nor could she conjure any memory of being with him during that time – only that it was the dead of winter. For all she knew it had all been a matter of trying to keep warm. She still didn't regret not writing down such personal details (rather, any further details), but she had to admit it would have been helpful if she had.

Part of her felt stupid for not knowing what was probably common knowledge. All along she thought the differences between herself and the other wives in town were the fact she grew up wearing rags, worked for her keep, and hadn't been allowed any form of education. Until recently, she never would have imagined it was so much more.

"You're looking at the book?" Cedric said, almost amused as he looked up from the mail in his hands.

Moving her elbow off the desk, she shut the calendar and put it back in her drawer. "I was just curious to see if I could figure out how far along I am."

"Three months seems about right."

Her face grew red. "I counted nearly four."

"Hmm," he said with a pause. "I'd think you'd be showing more at four."

"I don't understand how this works," she admitted though it embarrassed her to be asking her husband any questions about pregnancy. "The baby can't be four months old if we weren't intimate for at least a near week after the day I marked. I don't remember when we were together after that."

He shrugged, looking back down at the letters as he reached the desk. "Truth be told, Agatha never bothered with keeping track of these things. I don't really know much more about it than you do."

She fought the urge to scoff. Finally, something that couldn't be compared to Agatha and it had to be this.

She stood up, allowing him to have the desk chair. "Doesn't matter. The baby will come when it wants to."

"Mhmm."

Whether his indifference was due to being distracted by the letter he was reading or the result of the lingering tension between them, Evangeline knew if she stuck around any longer, she'd have nothing more to say to him than petty quips.

"Dinner's in an hour," she said. "And Sebastian's been wanting to see you all day."

This caught his attention. "Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing he's told me about. Doesn't seem urgent, just seems to want his Papa."

"I'll go and see him in a few minutes."

She nodded, and without him even seeming to notice, she slipped out of the room.

. . .

"Are you really going upstairs again?"

Evangeline let go of the doorknob, hugging her book against her as she turned to Cedric sitting on the edge of the bed. "It seems like the best option at the moment." Her mood hadn't improved much since the morning. Despite her earlier resolve to claim her space, she was beyond ready for bed. She didn't have an argument in her.

"Stop this nonsense," he grumbled. "What's the point if you're going to come back down here at five in the morning anyhow?"

"Some space could do us some good," she said, borrowing from Mrs. Blatherwick's reasoning. "Perhaps it's why we keep bickering."

"It's gone beyond bickering."

Dropping her arms to her side, she said wearily, "I don't know what else to suggest. If I don't go upstairs, we're just going to lay next together all tense-like and have a miserable night's sleep."

"Fine, it'll be no different than the sleep I get when you're upstairs."

Shaking her head, she shifted her footing. "I thought you wanted some space?"

"An hour or two alone time and again, yes," he said. "I'm sure you need the same. That doesn't mean you're banished to the attic."

"I don't see it like that," she replied, unable to keep her annoyance from sounding. "It's just that if you need time away from me to sort out whatever's going on your head it seems like a simple solution."

Leaning his elbows on his knees, he pressed his palms to his forehead. "You're overreacting to this. I get drunk one night and you've got me pegged as an alcoholic. You know I hardly ever drink. While I'm sorry for concerning you, I'm not going to apologize for indulging now and then. Believe me, I punished myself enough with that hangover."

"It's not that you got drunk as much as it's the fact something I did drove you to it."

"For heaven's sake, Evangeline, you didn't do anything," Cedric groused. "Not every upset in my life traces back to you."

"In this instance, I was very much involved. None of this would have happened if I hadn't gone to the confectionery. And if you really think about it, if my arithmetic skills weren't so poor I wouldn't be pregnant in the first place. You wouldn't be so tormented by this all and we'd be content."

"Do you hear yourself?" he said, his voice slightly raised. "Stop blaming yourself for everything. It was bound to happen sooner or later no matter how careful we were. You're not responsible for my moods."

She crossed her arms and looked away.

"I'm sorry that I can't be the husband you want me to be." He stood, his tone more bitter than apologetic. "I'm sorry that you have to deal with my moods and that you were more or less forced into this marriage."

"I wasn't forced," she said, her voice strained.

"You make it sound like you were when you talk like that."

"… Can I go upstairs now?"

Grabbing the book from her hands, he then tossed it on the vanity. "You're not spending another night up there."

"I'll do as I please."

"No," he barked. "You wanted to talk about this so we're talking."

"I wanted to talk yesterday," she sniped. "Now it's gone on too long. I'm tired and I want to sleep."

Taking her arms, he jostled her toward the bed. "Fine, but you'll sleep here."

She pushed his hands away. "I'll sleep in the attic if I want to!"

"Then I'll follow you."

"Why do you want me around like this anyhow? You've hidden away from me for less."

"Because you're my wife and I like your company."

"In what way am I good company right now?"

"I just said company. I don't care if you speak to me or not. I want you here."

"But why?" she questioned.

"Why do I have to give a blasted reason?"

"Because you're angry with me and yet you don't want me to leave the room."

"You're impossible sometimes. Why must you question everything? Why can't you just accept things for what they are?"

"Because they're never for what they are! Everything ends up being mysterious with you. You say one thing and mean another or leave things unsaid and it's up to me to assume. When I assume wrong, you get upset with me, and yet you still won't tell me the reason."

"I'm saying I want you here in our room where you belong."

"But why?" she pushed.

"Because I don't like being alone at night! Are you happy?"

"No, because you couldn't just come out and say so!"

"I shouldn't have to!"

"Which comes back to you leaving me to assume your every thought! I'm tired of this! I wish you'd come out and tell the truth to my face no matter how ugly it is. I want to know exactly where I stand with you and go on from there."

"What is it you want me to say, Evangeline? What is it you're expecting to hear? I love you! What more do you want?"

"I want you to admit I'm not really the one you want! You'd trade me away in a second to change the past."

Cedric's eyes went wide, fury and hurt fighting each other for dominance. "Is that really what you think of me? That I only love you because you were the next best thing? That I married you only because I had to?"

"When it comes down to it, yes," she admitted.

"That's a bloody rotten thing to say."

"But it's true, isn't it? To some extent it's true."

He searched for an argument — the words that would make him triumphant on the matter. But no matter the combination, nothing he might be able to say sounded satisfactory. So instead, he chose a more hostile response. "You shouldn't have married me then. You've said yourself you knew what you were getting into. It's on you, not me."

Tears stung her eyes. "I just want your honesty. I want you to stop hiding your true feelings from me."

"What do my true feelings matter?" he scoffed. "Evidently, you won't believe any of the positive ones. Why should I waste my breath?"

"I never said I don't believe the positive! I don't question that you love me. I know you do and I'm glad of it. I just want for us to face the fact that there's always going to be someone between us. Maybe once we do, we can stop these foolish arguments."

"You were the one to turn this into a multi-day argument!"

"You were the one who passed out from too much brandy or what have you!"

"And instead of letting us both move on you decided to throw a fit and move to a different floor of the house."

Evangeline groaned. "We're just going in circles now! All I'm saying is that I need to stop this charade of pretending our marriage is separate from your past. That isn't on you. It's on me to deal with it."

"So, you never meant it when you said that you don't want to erase Agatha's memory."

"What?!"

"You claim you never want to replace her, and yet you expect me to be okay with the fact she's gone."

"I never said anything of the sort!" she seethed. "You're being spiteful now."

"And you aren't?"

Biting her lip, she said, "Don't ever say such things again. I admired Mrs. Brown and will always honor her memory, especially when it comes to the children. It's wicked of you to suggest otherwise. Do I feel jealousy? Absolutely. Because I will never be enough for you. I'll never be able to be what you need me to be. If you truly think I'm setting out to pretend she never existed or that I want you not to mourn her loss then we have bigger issues than I thought."

"Then what the hell are we arguing about?"

Pushing past him, she grabbed her book yet again. "I don't know, but I know I'm not staying here."

He caught her arms. "Just knock off this nonsense!"

Turning as much as she could, she gave his chest a shove, the book falling to the floor in the process. "Let me be!" she screamed, surprising both of them.

He took a step back.

She crumbled, gripping her arms so tight she was sure there would be marks in the morning. Every time she tried to speak it came out in a sob.

Cedric had seen her upset before, however, nothing like this. In one second, he regretted everything that had been said in the last five minutes. After his initial concern for her, his mind went straight to the baby.

"Evangeline," he said, reaching for her again, "take a breath—"

"Don't touch me!" she wailed.

Retracting his hands, he said, "You need to sit down."

She shook her head, shrinking into herself. "I need air."

Immediately, he went over to the window and opened it, but when he turned around, the bedroom door was open and she was gone.

. . .

Cedric went up to the attic first. She wasn't there, nor was she downstairs in the office or in the kitchen with Mrs. Blatherwick. All he could figure was that she'd gone outside. If that were the case, he'd have a devil of a time trying to find her in the dark. Accepting the lost cause, he trudged back upstairs.

Evangeline was, in fact, outside, though not as far from the house as Cedric had imagined. She didn't wander farther than the chicken coop. As appealing as getting lost sounded at the moment, she was sensible enough not to stray in the dark.

It took her a long time to finally settle down. The emotions of the last few days had caught up to her. Despite her constant assumptions on the matter, it was still difficult to hear the truth said allowed. Until the baby, she'd been better equipped for the sacrifices this marriage entailed. Since then, she somehow lost her footing and let her expectations build up too high. But how could she not let herself envision perfect happiness with her husband and their child along with her beautiful stepchildren? Was that so wrong?

She never meant to imply that she wanted him to forget about Agatha — if she in fact had. Already things were beginning to blur. All she could remember was the disgust in Cedric's eyes and the anger in his shouts. Worse was the lingering sensation of his hands on her though he hadn't actually hurt her. It was the aggression that scared her, bringing too many long-repressed memories to the surface. In that moment she no longer saw her husband, rather an unhappy employer looking to take his temper out on someone without repercussion. Cedric didn't know about any of this, nor was she particularly keen to tell him. It didn't matter anymore. She'd hardly thought of that time in her life anymore. There was no reason to. It was just strange that this should be the second reminder this week.

The chill of the night air drove her back into the house after a while. She still wasn't ready to face Cedric and paused by way of the study to contemplate if she wanted to try and sleep in her chair. Deciding against the inevitable neck pain it would bring, she decided her best option was to tiptoe to the attic. She would deal with Cedric's annoyance at this tomorrow. Though she was so spent she'd probably fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, she knew there was no way she could return to their room without some sort of discussion or further argument.

. . .

Cedric had heard her sneak by the bedroom door. He didn't know why he thought she'd actually come to bed. She'd wanted nothing but to get away from him all night. Given what happened, he wondered if he should have given in.

He didn't think it terribly selfish to want her to stay with him. They didn't get any time together throughout the day and their evenings often came with distraction. He missed her company. He also hated sleeping alone.

It was difficult to admit as much to himself, let alone her. The empty bed had been among the most difficult parts of losing Agatha. Thoughts took on a life of their own when trying to sleep. Simply having a hand to hold on to made things a little easier. But now he was plagued by images of Evangeline's expression tonight, looking at him with such fear. She accused him of not being forthcoming with all that was bothering him. He suspected now the same of her. While he was aware that he'd let his temper get the better of him and that he had said some regrettable things, he would never have tried to hurt her. The way she recoiled was as though she'd expected him to hit her.

He knew it was in his best interest to give her space and tough it through another night alone. If she was upset enough to run out of the house in her nightgown, it was clear she needed solitude. But how was he not supposed to worry about this? How could he in good conscience not check on her to at least make sure she — and the baby — were okay?

It was this delicate mix of selfishness and concern that ultimately drove him out of bed sometime later. First going to the trunk, he pulled out an extra blanket. He wasn't going to make her come back downstairs, but he needed to know she was warm enough. He almost felt bad for having never thought of how hot or cold the room was before when she was living up there. While, of course, there were seasonal provisions, it was still a dank and empty room. He couldn't understand why those conditions would be preferable despite the grievances she'd aired tonight.

He opened the door slowly, trying to stop it from creaking. He didn't want to startle or wake her, though he sort of hoped that she would be awake and agreeable. Maybe she'd give in after the long night and come back downstairs. They wouldn't need to speak a word if she didn't want to. Having her near would be enough.

Alas, no such luck. When he approached the bed, he could dimly make out her figure upon it. Her knees were tucked against her stomach and her hands gripping the blanket from underneath, keeping it tightly around her. Cedric unfolded the woolen throw he'd brought with him and spread it across her. She didn't stir, her breathing remaining heavy and even. Confident that she was in a deep enough sleep that he wouldn't disturb her, he sat down beside her, leaned over, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

He remained there a while watching and thinking. Her sleep was not a pleasant one, her jaw tight and lips pursed. Every now and then she'd let out a quiet whimper, her brows narrowing as though she was having a bad dream. He watched helplessly, doing nothing more than running his knuckle lightly over her cheek. It seemed to calm her, though she never woke. He didn't dare wake her up lest she be stuck in that distressed state and aggravate things between them even more. His stomach turned knowing he'd ultimately been the one to cause all this.

He didn't intentionally keep things from her. There were just some things that didn't feel right to tell her. She hadn't been entirely wrong about Agatha, though he couldn't say at this point giving up Evangeline would be easy. But the way he saw it, it didn't matter. There was no possibility of this scenario so why bother thinking about it? Yes, there were some days in particular where he wished he could speak to Agatha. Yes, there were times he wanted Agatha over Evangeline. But those moments were few compared to how often he thought of Evangeline. The workdays had become insufferably long and the weekends far too short. He thought of anniversary presents, wanting something extra special to mark the occasion. It would be here soon enough, and with a baby on the way, it needed to be even grander. He looked forward to hearing how the children spoke about her, especially how Aggie seemed to be picking up her accent over his and the other kids'. Even a lot of times when he felt low, it was Evangeline he sought for comfort. Not because she was the one there, but because she allowed him to feel gloomy without expecting him to hide it.

He wasn't sure how to make her understand all this. All she could hear were those random moments he wanted someone else. Though he could understand her jealousy to an extent, he was frustrated that she kept bringing her into the conversation. It was different if they were talking about her with the children, but between them? Despite her claims of there being three people in their marriage, she was the one to include Agatha more often than not.

But then he thought of the way she'd cried earlier. She wasn't quick to those kind of tears. Pregnancy had been making her emotional, yes, but she saved sobs for when she was truly upset. He hadn't seen this often, but even then, tonight seemed entirely different. Something had happened but he couldn't figure what or when.

Stewing too much, Cedric decided to leave her be and go back downstairs. If she happened to wake, he didn't want it to be during a moment he was feeling angry toward her again. Likewise, he didn't want it to be during a moment he felt too much pity. He didn't see her taking well to it. They needed to meet somewhere in the middle. Placing another soft kiss, this time on her cheek, he crept out of the room and prayed tomorrow would be a better day.

. . .

Evangeline woke a few hours later with a cramp in her leg and a kink in her neck. She groaned. While she was glad to have been in such a deep sleep that she hadn't moved, she didn't feel any better for it. As she stretched out, she realized her head also ached. Not much of a surprise, but still unpleasant. All of this was tolerable, that is, until she turned onto her other side.

Something in her stomach shifted, causing her to sit up quickly. She pressed her hand to her mouth, a wave of nausea tearing through her. She sat completely still until the intensity subsided. Only when she was confident that she wasn't going to be ill did she put her hand down again. When she did, she noticed a blanket that hadn't been there when she fell asleep.

Cedric…

She half-expected to see him when she looked around the room. Aside from the extra blanket, nothing was changed. She sighed as she grazed the wool with her fingertips. She found it strange that she hadn't heard him and even stranger that he hadn't tried to wake her. She assumed as much, anyway.

She wished she knew what to say or do to fix everything between them or that she could go back in time and do things differently. She hated being at odds with him and hated that her way of dealing with it was by trying to keep her distance. All she could hope was that the baby would serve as a good buffer come the time. There would be room for what would surely seem like trivial problems looking back.

Another wave of nausea hit her. Not willing to risk a mess though she still wasn't certain if she was going to be sick, she got up and hurried downstairs to the washroom. Once there, she hunched over the toilet, out of breath from running. The nausea persisted. She wasn't going to fight it anymore. Peppermints weren't going to fix this.

She let out a heave but nothing came. A few more times before she sat back on the floor, letting out a frustrated and uncomfortable cry. She remained there a while, her head against the wall as she focused on breathing instead. She hadn't anticipated morning sickness this way. She figured it would be a touch of nausea here and there that made her ill before she could carry on with her day. Realizing it was going to be long and drawn out with possibly no relief, she would have felt more dread. Perhaps that was for the better, but at least that would have come with better preparation.

Her stomach didn't settle much, but thankfully the sensation of something rising to her chest seemed to be done with at least for now. Though there was no pain, she checked for blood just in case. A miscarriage might not have been a worry if not for how upset she'd gotten. She would have never forgiven herself if that was the case. She wasn't really sure if that was enough to cause harm, but she'd known women who'd lost their babies over less.

She started to go back upstairs but stopped as she reached the stairwell and looked down the hall at her and Cedric's door. Suddenly she found herself wanting to be with him, nor did she particularly want to climb the stairs while her legs felt so wobbly. Her biggest hesitation was that he didn't want her there. He could have easily stayed upstairs with her if he'd wanted. Not knowing his reasoning made her worry. In turn, worry made her stomach flip even more. The worse she felt, the more she wanted to know someone was nearby.

Deciding to take the chance, she walked down the hall and opened the door. Her steps inside were cautious. Seeing he was facing away from the door her shoulders relaxed. If he was asleep, she could crawl next to him and answer questions in the morning. But as she reached the edge of the bed, she realized she'd assumed wrong.

"Evangeline?" he asked as he turned over as though she'd only woken him from a doze.

"Can I sleep here?" she replied. Had she expected her voice to sound so raw, she would have let a nod suffice.

"You never need to ask that," he said as he flipped back the covers. "What's the matter?"

Her voice was barely audible. "I don't feel well."

"How so?"

As he covered her over, she answered the real question, "The baby is fine."

"Good… but how are you?"

She shook her head. "I want to go back to sleep."

Cedric tucked his arm beneath her, pulling her gently to his side until she nestled her forehead in the crook of his neck. He was about to say goodnight when he felt her tears against his skin. Instead, he tightened his hold, saying softly into her hair, "It's going to be all right."

"Everything's a mess," she whimpered.

"We'll un-mess it somehow. All you need to do right now is sleep."

With a sniff, she nodded. It wasn't long until she was in as sound a sleep as she had been in the attic.

. . .

She woke again at dawn with a lurch. Her head hit Cedric's jaw, causing him to curse. When he looked up at Evangeline, he could see she was worse off.

"Your stomach?"

She whined, not daring to nod. She sat completely still hoping for a break that would allow her to get to the washroom.

Sitting up now as well, Cedric touched her forearm. "What can I do?"

She couldn't answer and he didn't push. He sat as still as she until she finally let out a breath, her shoulders deflating as the wave passed.

"I'm sorry I bumped you," she said first.

"It's all right. Are you all right?"

"I don't understand how I can feel so sick all of a sudden but nothing coming of it."

"How long has it been going on?" he questioned.

"It's only been like this tonight. Otherwise, it's been bearable."

Carefully, he broached, "You were awfully upset… perhaps that's part of it."

"Maybe…"

"… Why were you so upset? I mean, it seemed more than the argument."

"I can't have this discussion now."

"All right…" Picking his watch up from the nightstand, he said, "It's nearly morning. Are you going back to sleep?"

Evangeline shook her head. "I think I should sit up a while. I'll take it easy today and nap later if I need to."

"Do you want me to bring you some tea?"

"If cook is awake, could you ask her to boil some mint leaves?"

"Of course. Let me get dressed first?"

She nodded.

"How about some dry toast as well?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure I can stomach anything at the moment."

Standing now, Cedric said, "It could help." He came around to her side. Reaching for his pillow, he then propped it up behind her.

With a weak but thankful smile, she said, "I'll try anything."

. . .

Evangeline stayed in bed most of the day. The worst of the nausea had subsided, but she was still victim to the occasional twinge of an upset. The kids doted on her, as did Mrs. Blatherwick. After a hellish night, it felt nice being pampered.

"We brought you flowers, Evangeline," Sebastian said proudly as he held out the messy bouquet.

"I picked them out!" Chrissie said.

"And I picked them."

"Aren't you sweet," Evangeline said with a smile. "They ought to be put into a vase. I think there's an empty one in the study."

"I'll go!" Chrissie offered.

"No, I'll go!"

She laughed. "You can both go. Ask cook to fill it with some water and then bring it back here. These will look lovely in the window."

The two scampered off, and in their place, came Tora and Simon.

"How are you feeling?" Tora asked.

"Fine right now," Evangeline answered, reaching for her stepdaughter's hand. "You don't need to keep fretting."

"It's only I can't believe you haven't been ill yet."

"Is that what you're rooting for?" Simon quipped.

"Of course I'm not."

Evangeline forced a chuckle. "I can't believe it either."

"You don't think that means there's something wrong with the baby, does it?" Simon questioned with probably more apprehension in his voice than he wanted to convey.

Letting go of Tora, she then reached for Simon's hand. "I'm sure not. I'm just taking to pregnancy differently than your mother, is all."

"I thought it would be the same for everyone."

"Me, too," Tora agreed.

"There was a lady of the house I knew years ago who was a proper grouch normally, but when she was pregnant she was as pleasant as can be. A great might more energy, too. I don't remember hearing of her being ill at all, not that she would have confided in me."

Tora grimaced. "I can't imagine that. I don't think I'd be very comfortable with a baby inside of me. It's weird just to say aloud."

"I'm glad I'm a boy."

She laughed again, more genuinely this time. "I can feel the baby now, but more as a lump. There's no kicking or anything yet. At least not that I've noticed."

"You're still not showing," Simon said.

Sitting up and kicking off the covers, Evangeline pulled on the back of her nightdress so it tightened around her front. "You can tell a little bit."

"Oh, yes!" Tora said. "I can see it!"

"Does that mean you're going to start telling people now?"

"I don't think so. Not yet."

"Why not?" Tora questioned.

"Mostly because your father and I haven't thought to discuss it. I suspect we'll need to tell Aunt Adelaide first."

Simon gritted his teeth. "No wonder you're not in a rush."

"Exactly," Evangeline said with a wink. "I'm all right letting it be a family secret until it can't be hidden any longer. I'm not going to like the attention."

Tora nodded, remembering how people came to call on Agatha and filling up her days with gifts and questions she'd answered a hundred times before. But Simon hadn't noticed that much.

"What sort of attention?" he asked.

Evangeline shrugged, her mind not going where Tora's went, rather the renewed interest in her and Cedric's unorthodox marriage. "You know how nosy people can be."

He responded with a shrug of his own.

"Soup!"

Lily startled them all as she came into the room carrying a tray, pushing past her siblings and setting it on Evangeline's lap. "Cook told me to tell you that you have to eat at least half of it."

With a wince, Evangeline held her head back. "I don't have much of an appetite."

Confused, Lily sniffed the soup. "It's only chicken broth with carrots and peas."

Handing her the bowl, she shook her head. "It's the poultry that's getting to me." Then picking up the slice of bread, she finished, "This I will eat. Thank you."

Lily sighed, shaking her head. "Cook won't be happy."

"Please send her my regrets. Maybe I'll be up for it later."

Sniffing it again and then bringing her lips to the rim of the bowl for a taste, she said, "It's bland, but I think it smells and tastes fine."

"Things smell different when you're pregnant," Tora explained.

"That makes no sense."

"Believe me, I hadn't expected it either," Evangeline said with slight amusement.

"I guess it's a good thing Aggie's toilet-trained now."

Even Simon laughed at this.

"What am I supposed to tell cook?" Lily asked now that she was at the doorway. "She'll have my head."

"She will not," Evangeline answered. "Tell her the truth. Boiled carrots in plain water doesn't sound so bad. Perhaps that can be my dinner."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Lily said as she left, "I'm never having children."