DeButy & the Beast

by Linda Jones

  And found Anya standing in the foyer, alone, demurely dressed, and staring up at the portrait of her father while her fingers mindlessly caressed the gold rose that dangled from her neck. The expression on her face was so solemn his heart lurched in his chest. “Anya?” he said softly.

  She turned around and gave him a smile that did not have her usual radiance. “Good morning.” She studied his disheveled condition and the smile became more real.

  “Is everything all right?”

  She returned her gaze to the portrait. “I do not feel well,” she confessed. “And I had the strangest dream last night.”

  He vaguely remembered waking to find her in a nightmare, pulling her close, and going back to sleep. “You don’t feel well? What’s wrong?”

  She laid a hand on her stomach. “I feel as if I eat anything it will come right back up.”

  If he didn’t know it was impossible, he might optimistically think she was with child. He’d never cared much for children, but the idea of Anya’s babies was quite nice. Julian shook off the fanciful thought. He would take Anya, knowing they would never have children, over the most fertile woman on the planet.

  “Perhaps some toasted bread…”

  “I tried that,” she said with a wrinkling of her nose. “It came directly back up. Peter was most annoyed.”

  “I can imagine.”

  She turned her back on the portrait of the father she did not remember, and came to him. She didn’t stop until her arms encircled his waist and her head rested against his chest.

  “I am never ill,” she whispered. “I do not like the roiling in my stomach. You are a doctor. Can you make it stop?”

  “I’ll see what I can find,” he promised. “Perhaps you should lie down,” he suggested, leading her gently for the stairwell.

  “Will you lie down with me?” she asked.

  “If you’d like.”

  They climbed the stairs slowly, arm in arm. Anya really did seem to be ill, and that concerned him. She was sluggish, pensive, and that was not like her at all. Perhaps she had eaten something bad. He tried to recall what she might have eaten the day before that he had not.

  “I want you to hold me,” she said as they reached their bedroom. “That will make the queasiness go away, I am quite certain.”

  “I was thinking of peppermint tea,” he teased, “but I think I like your remedy better.”

  They undressed and crawled into bed, and Anya rested her head against his shoulder, breathing deeply and snuggling there where she fit so well. “It was just a dream,” she whispered.

  He stroked her hair. “Yes, it was.” He wondered if her fear of storms would ever completely subside. “Just a dream.”

  “And you will never leave.”

  “I will never leave.”

  Anya breathed deep and almost instantly went to sleep.

  *

  Anya knew that she must be very, very ill. She, who had never been infirm in her life, had been sick for an entire two weeks! Throwing up every morning, exhausted and sleeping every afternoon. It was horrid. And she knew quite well how her husband detested sick people!

  Julian had been very kind to her, though, wiping her face with a cool cloth when she was nauseated, sitting or sleeping with her in the afternoon. Fortunately for them both, she usually felt quite well at night. Fortunately for her, there had been no more storms, no more dreams.

  Lunch was over, and she sat in the garden alone. Already she was tired, and looking forward to a nice long nap. She sighed as she looked out over the roses. So many roses. Such a beautiful day. And all she could think of was sleep. A nap! She was quite disgusted with herself.

  “My love,” Julian said as he approached, “you should not be sitting in the sun. The heat isn’t good for you.”

  “I like the heat,” she said, lifting her face to catch the rays. “I like the sun.”

  When she lowered her face and opened her eyes, she was surprised to see a smile on Julian’s face. A smile! He had been worried, in the first few days of her illness, but in the past two days he had been oddly cheerful.

  “I am sick, and you smile at me,” she said, pouting.

  Julian sat in the chair next to hers, reached out and took her hand. He threaded his fingers through hers and held her hand tightly. “I do not think you are sick.”

  “Not sick! I am ill every day. I am tired in a way I have never been before. I am—”

  “With child,” he interrupted.

  It was cruel of him to tease her this way. “You know that cannot be.”

  “I know you believe it cannot be,” he argued. “Who told you that you were barren?”

  “King Sebastian’s mother, Queen Carola,” she said. “Poor Sebastian, every woman he chose for his bed was unable to give him a child. It was a curse, his mother said. Repayment for some sin he committed in another life.”

  Julian’s smile faded, just a little. “And how many women did Sebastian choose for his bed?”

  “There was his first concubine Emelda, then me, then Isabele—”

  “Anya,” Julian interrupted sharply. “Did it ever occur to you that King Sebastian might be unable to father a child?”

  Her eyes widened at the suggestion. “Impossible. Sebastian is young and strong, a virile, handsome king. To suggest that he might be unable to sire a child is ridiculous.”

  Julian gritted his teeth, just a little. “How young or strong or handsome a man is has nothing to do with fertility. Anya,” he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. “When was the last time you had your monthly flow?”

  She screwed up her nose. “I can’t remember, exactly. A couple of weeks before Katherine Mansfield’s party, I think.”

  “Anya, the Mansfield party was six weeks ago,” Julian said.

  Her heart lurched, but she was afraid to hope that he might be right. “If you are correct and I am going to have a child…” She looked deep into his dark eyes, trying to read his thoughts. There were moments when she was sure she could do just that. “You said you did not care for children.”

  “I will care for ours,” he assured her. “In fact, I find that I am quite excited by the prospect.”

  “Really?” she smiled, no longer feeling so tired. “Do you think it is truly possible that I am with child?”

  “I’m quite sure you are,” he said. “Trust me, Anya. After all, I am a doctor.”

  “A doctor with no patients,” she teased.

  “I have one patient, now,” he said, tugging on her hand and assisting her to her feet. “No, I have two,” he said. When she stood beside him, he placed the palm of one hand over her belly.

  “You know,” he said as they walked toward the house. “Since you are with child, modern medicine dictates that we abstain from marital relations until well after the birth.”

  “Hogwash,” Anya responded. “Even when I am large with child, there are positions that will accommodate us.”

  “But…”

  “It was part of my teaching, querido. Do you think I would ever do anything to harm our child?” Our child. Those words made her heart swell.

  “Of course not,” he conceded.

  “But perhaps you should be especially gentle with me,” she added softly.

  “You know I will.”

  *

  Mrs. Sedley and Valerie were both ecstatic when they heard the news. Seymour was his usual dour self, and actually choked on his brandy when Anya said she’d like to have at least a dozen children.

  The entire family congregated in the south parlor. Peter had been standing in the doorway when the announcement was made, and though he tried to disguise a smile and maintain his severe image, he didn’t quite manage. There was a softening of his face, a brief half-smile.

  This new development changed everything. They couldn’t possibly travel, not with Anya in her delicate condition, and not with a newborn baby. Julian’s plans would have to be changed, drastically. So why wasn’t he disappointed? Why was he so unexpec
tedly filled with joy?

  Anya, once she accepted his diagnosis, was radiantly happy. She had truly thought herself to be barren, since the amazingly manly and handsome King Sebastian couldn’t possibly be unable to father a child. Julian tried, most diligently, not to think about that damned king, but now and again the man popped into his mind. He had rather hoped the king was short, skinny, and bow-legged. But according to Anya’s wide-eyed description, King Sebastian was none of these things. He was young, and strong, and… virile.

  When the excitement from their news died down and Anya had been heartily hugged by her cousin and her grandmother, Valerie stepped forward to make an announcement of her own.

  Head high, cheeks flushed pink, she said, “William Mathias has asked me to marry him.”

  Anya squealed and hugged her cousin. “I knew he loved you for your bosom,” she said brightly.

  “William Mathias?” Seymour asked with a twist of his small mouth. “He doesn’t have any money.”

  “We don’t need money,” Valerie said as Julian stepped forward to offer his own congratulations.

  “That’s easy to say when you have plenty,” Mrs. Sedley said tightly. “Valerie, I forbid you to marry this man.”

  Valerie’s bright smile faded quickly. “You can’t do that. I’m twenty-three years old and perfectly capable of choosing my own husband.”

  Mrs. Sedley’s face hardened. Her spine went rigid. “If you marry William Mathias, you will do so without my blessing or my money.”

  Elizabeth Sedley managed the family fortune with an iron fist, and she had no qualms about using her power. Julian’s estimation of the woman dropped several notches as she stood there and threatened her granddaughter.

  Valerie’s head dropped and she stared at the tips of her shoes for a moment. Mrs. Sedley sighed in relief, and Seymour started naming his well-to-do friends who might make suitable marriage material, if Valerie were looking for a husband.

  Anya remained silent, her eyes on Valerie. She wanted to speak up—she was almost bursting to argue—but she kept her mouth shut, gripped her hands into small, tight fists, and finally whispered, “It is time,” in a voice so low only Julian could hear.

  Valerie lifted her head and sniffled, but she leveled her steady gaze on her grandmother. “I’m sorry you don’t approve, Grandmother. But I am going to marry William, with or without your blessing.”

  Elizabeth Sedley took a deep breath and narrowed her steely eyes. “We’ll see if your William is so anxious to wed when he finds out you will be going to him without access to the Sedley fortune. When he breaks your heart, I don’t want you to come crying to me.”

  “He will not break my heart.”

  “No, I will not,” a steady voice called. They all turned toward the doorway, where William stood, an almost smug-looking Peter standing behind him.

  Mathias smiled at Valerie. “You could have waited for me,” he chastised gently.

  She smiled back. “Anya shared good news, and I was so anxious to share mine that I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  Mrs. Sedley was not about to stand down. “Mr. Mathias, I have protected my granddaughter from fortune hunters since she was of a marriageable age.”

  “For that I thank you,” Mathias said serenely.

  “This is not an idle threat,” Mrs. Sedley said tightly. “If you disobey me and marry without my blessing, you will leave this house with nothing.”

  Mathias wrapped his arm through Valerie’s and pulled her close. “Valerie thought you might react that way. We have discussed it, and are in agreement.”

  “And that agreement is?”

  “We don’t need your money. We love each other and will elope tonight.”

  Seymour smiled and stepped forward. “I wish you both all the happiness in the world,” he said, shaking Mathias’s hand and hugging his sister.

  Mrs. Sedley turned pale.

  “You will visit often?” Anya said, stepping forward to also hug her cousin.

  “Yes, and you must come to visit me. William’s farm is not that far away.”

  “A farm,” Mrs. Sedley scoffed. “If you loved Valerie, you would not take her from the comforts she knows to a farm.”

  William smiled. “I might not have a fortune, Mrs. Sedley, but Valerie will always have a roof over her head, food on the table, and a husband who loves her dearly. She seems to think that will be enough. I’m sorry for you if you don’t agree.”

  Not accustomed to being spoken to so candidly, Elizabeth Sedley blushed for a moment. Then she turned purple.

  Mrs. Sedley and Seymour remained in the south parlor while William and Valerie made their way to the door. Anya followed, and Julian stayed close behind her.

  “Oh, I will miss you!” Anya said.

  “We will visit often,” Valerie said. “But I will miss seeing you every day, too.”

  “I suspect that Grandmother believes you think she’s bluffing,” Anya said in a lowered voice. “But when she realizes that you and William are truly in love, she will open her arms to you again.”

  “I hope so. I don’t care about the money, though. She’s always held it over my head like she was dangling a carrot before a horse. But I don’t need it, not if I have William.”

  Valerie looked radiantly happy, and so did William. Julian didn’t know how Mrs. Sedley could doubt that they loved each other.

  “Miss Valerie,” Peter called as he hurried down the stairs, “I’m glad I caught you.” A stuffed tapestry bag hung from his right hand. “I took the liberty of packing a few of your favorite things. A couple of dresses and your mother’s ruby necklace, along with a few other personal items.”

  “Thank you, Peter,” Valerie said as William took the bag. She leaned forward and went up on her tiptoes to kiss the butler on the cheek, bringing a bright red blush to the older man’s face.

  “It’s a pity I never had Betsy teach you to cook,” Peter said, trying to sound completely cool and professional. “That skill might come in handy now that you are going to be a wife.”

  Valerie smiled widely. “I can learn to cook.” She cast a meaningful glance at Anya. “I’m going to make a very good wife.”

  William and Valerie made their escape, Peter headed for the pantry, and Julian placed his arm around Anya’s waist. “Darling, what was that last fairly wicked glance from Valerie all about?”

  “Cher, there is much more to being a good wife than cooking. Why, I cannot cook at all and you do not seem to mind.”

  “I did tell you to desist in your lessons, did I not?”

  “I believe you did.”

  “And of course, you would never disobey me.”

  “They were very minor lessons,” she explained. “A move she might try, a position she and William might both enjoy, the most effective way to touch a man’s—”

  “Anya!”

  “Well, they are both virgins. It seemed a shame to send them off to the marriage bed with no instruction at all.”

  Julian sighed. “William will be shocked.”

  Anya grinned. “William will be most pleased with his new wife.”

  They headed for the parlor and the unpleasant confrontation that awaited them. “Of that, I have no doubt,” Julian muttered.

  *

  The next morning, Anya left Julian sleeping and crept down the stairs. She was starving! She had never been so hungry in her life. She found Grandmother in the dining room, having her own breakfast of eggs and ham. Anya took a chair near her grandmother and when Betsy asked what she wanted to eat, she asked for everything in the kitchen. With a smile Betsy, who had no doubt heard the good news, hurried off to comply.

  Last night, after Valerie’s departure, Grandmother had been livid. For a few volatile minutes she had blamed everyone for her eldest granddaughter’s desertion. Then, in her own fanciful way, she had convinced herself that Valerie would soon return, her foolish marriage set aside. Anya had not argued with her grandmother. Not yet.

  Grandmother pu
t her fork aside and smiled. “It does my heart good to see you so happy,” she said sincerely.

  “Thank you,” Anya said. “You are very kind.”

  The woman’s blue eyes went misty. “I have waited so long to see this house filled with laughter and children again. I hope you and Julian really do have a dozen children.”

  “Seymour will not be pleased,” Anya said with a small smile.

  “Seymour needs to find himself a wife and have a few children of his own. Perhaps then he would grow up.”

  Betsy arrived with the first course: tea and sweet bread. Freshly prepared ham and eggs and biscuits would follow, she promised. “Seymour seems quite worried that Julian and I will create a brood that will take over the Sedley mansion.”

  Grandmother sighed in contentment.

  “Of course, as soon as the baby is of an age to travel, the three of us will set out and begin Julian’s studies.” Oh, the sweet bread was delicious.

  “You can’t travel with a baby,” Grandmother said sternly. “You must stay here. I had hoped Julian would stay, too, but if he must travel, you and the baby will live here until he returns.”

  Anya shook her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I could not bear to be separated from my husband for such a length of time.” It would be physically painful, she suspected, to watch Julian sail away for parts unknown. “No, we will go with him.”

  “Perhaps he could be persuaded to stay here and take up his own medical practice.”

  Anya broke off another piece of sweet bread and popped it into her mouth. Heaven. She had never liked food so much! “No,” she said after she swallowed. “He does not like sick people.”

  Though he had been wonderfully kind to her, and she had been sick for weeks. She was feeling much better today. Julian had said the sickness would pass, and she hoped this was a good sign of days to come.

  “Have you and Julian discussed this?”