by Laura Landon
“You’re positively wicked, my little minx.”
“Then I may go?”
She fairly jumped for joy.
“On condition that you don’t set one foot out of the carriage.”
Nella swatted his arm. “We’ll be in Windermere, forgetful husband. You can’t possibly deny me the opportunity to do a bit of shopping.”
James sighed. Perhaps he should wish for a boy. He had begun to discover that as sweet as they could often be, girls were dreadfully hard to argue with.
“All right. Shopping only.” He tapped her nose with his forefinger. “But you’ll let me handle things at Bellingshire House.”
“Absolutely, my love. I truly do not want to be anywhere near that woman. And the quicker we get that innocent babe out of her hands, the happier I will be.”
“And that is forever my life’s goal, my dear. Making you happy.”
The kiss she surprised him with put their argument to rest.
“You’ll have to come up with another goal, darling husband,” Nella cooed, “because every moment of every day with you makes me happy.”
He laughed. How he loved the way she made him feel like king of her world.
“Well, then, wife. Be ready at eight o’clock tomorrow. We are to be at Bellingshire House by noon. I won’t have time to wait for any primping lassies.”
“I shall come in my nightclothes, if need be.”
James wheeled around, half shocked at her statement, half worried she might be serious. Her laughter reassured him. She would be ready. And fully clothed.
~■~
Nella sighed. The coach to Windermere hadn’t been nearly as awful as she had anticipated. A month before, James had insisted his coachman put new springs and gadgets on the coach’s undercarriage so it would rock as gently as a cradle. The man had driven it around the countryside for hours breaking in the new hardware. And it had worked.
Once she alighted from the coach in Windermere, it took her only a moment to recover her land legs. Her maid, Treadway, fussed over her briefly until she was finally satisfied that Nella had made the trip unscathed.
“Crowley’s is at the end of Portsmouth Avenue. I’ll meet you there at two o’clock.” James squeezed her hand. “Don’t be late.”
“I shan’t,” she assured him. In truth, she felt she could spend days here in the charming Windermere shops. But a couple of hours would have to suffice.
James backed away and returned to the coach, calling directions to his coachman.
On her own while James went to Bellingshire House to collect Lady Blanche’s infant son, Nella led Treadway into Windermere Mercantile.
“I’ll look for the china I wish to replace, Treadway. You look over there for some baby things. I don’t want to leave Blanche’s babe with Vicar and Mrs. Chancellor without a few necessary items.”
Treadway nodded, pleased to have a mission of her own.
In truth, Nella already felt a connection to the child. While she believed her husband completely, the poor little thing’s vulnerability as long as he remained with his mother had sealed within her a commitment to sponsor the child into his new life. How grateful she was that James shared that commitment.
The china she sought proved more of a problem than she’d expected. By the time she had narrowed the choices to only three, they had been in the store for more than an hour. If she were to get to the wonderful millinery shop she had seen, she needed to go now.
“Treadway? When you’ve finished purchasing the baby things, come to this counter and choose a china set. Twelve place settings will do. I can’t decide, so you choose. Get both the tea cups and the demitasse cups. Have them wrapped and ask the valet to carry them with you to Crowley’s. I’m going to pop into that darling millinery at the end of the street. I’ll meet you at Crowley’s at a quarter to. All right?”
Treadway beamed her assent.
Nella had no doubt she would choose the best set. The girl was masterful at matching jewelry with gowns. She would easily do as well with china. Besides, Nella liked all three sets of bone china equally well.
Free at last, Nella darted as ably as an almost-seven-month pregnant female could out onto the sidewalk. It took just minutes to reach the end of the street where the charming millinery shop was located. If the hats displayed in the window case were any indication, this milliner was top rung.
With nobody to hurry her along, Nella wandered the three aisles of the shop, collecting riding gloves and a hat that would go well with her herringbone riding habit. She stepped around a ladder where a shop girl was retrieving samples from a hundred button drawers that lined the wall. Once safely past, she stopped at a table laden with lace. On impulse, Nella snatched up a charming bundle of lace remnants, sure she could use them on her own babe’s growing wardrobe. As she turned to lay them on the counter, a voice from behind her froze her where she stood.
“You never learn, do you.”
Nella whirled toward the voice and choked back a startled yelp as she saw Lady Blanche stepping toward her. The woman’s face was frozen in a look even more hateful than Nella had seen months earlier.
And worse. She looked haggard, as if giving birth had stripped her healthy glow and replaced it with stark whiteness.
“You…you don’t look well, my lady. You should sit down.”
Blanche ignored her and took another step closer. Now she was near enough that Nella could see the milk stains badly soaking the front of the woman’s gown. Knowing Lady Blanche’s vanity, it was a shocking thing to see her in that state.
“How did you know I was here?” Nella asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
The woman cackled, a hollow, deranged sound. “I was just leaving Bellingshire House. Can you see it? Just there on the hill.” She breathed a seething breath. “I saw the coach let you out down here, and then your bastard of a husband showed up to take the brat.”
Nella turned and easily spotted the large house that sat on a knoll not far from the center of town.
“You were supposed to come alone. You were supposed to take the babe and leave James. That’s all you had to do. Just disappear!”
With each statement she moved closer, gathering herself in a menacing way.
“But you had to bring him, didn’t you. You just had to ruin my life all over again.”
“Ruin? I don’t—”
The woman staggered, knocking into a table and sending its display of hats flying in every direction.
“You brought him to humiliate me, didn’t you.”
Nella cringed at the pure hatred that flowed from Blanche’s stiff lips.
“No, I—”
“You were to collect the brat and leave the country. That was our arrangement. But oh, no, you wanted to keep the brat and James, too.” She cocked her head to the side as if hearing voices. “I couldn’t understand why you’d take the brat, but now I see.” She gestured at Nella’s swollen stomach. “You’re probably afraid yours will turn out to be a mongrel.”
Lady Blanche let out a vile sound that seemed to start as a laugh and ended as a howl. Her eyes turned manic and Nella realized Lady Blanche had lost her grip on sanity.
“We’re taking the child to a good ho—”
Lady Blanche struck out with both hands and pushed Nella back a step.
“You’ll not touch the brat.” She pushed again harder, forcing Nella to back into a display table. “You’ll just leave. Now!” She slapped Nella. “Get out. Leave. Go anywhere you like, as long as it’s far away from James.”
With each word her anger escalated. “Now get out! Get out! Get out!”
She grabbed Nella and flung her sideways. Out of instinct, Nella reached out for support as she began to fall. She grabbed at Blanche and the two crashed into the table and tumbled to the floor. Nella tried to protect her babe, but the fall was bruising.
Nella was dazed, and clutched at her abdomen as if she could discern whether the unborn child was all right.
Nella recovered herself and rose to her knees, grateful to know nothing was broken. But to her horror, she saw that Blanche had not fared so well. Blood was now seeping from her temple where she had struck her head as she fell. Her eyes rolled back, focused, then rolled back again.
“Are you all right?” The man asked as he crouched beside Nella.
“Y-yes. I…I think so. But this woman needs that doctor. Now!”
“No. No doctor.” Nella heard the weak protest and turned to Lady Blanche.
It was clear the woman was fearfully injured, but as Blanche struggled to focus, she reached a hand to Nella. The least Nella could do was give the poor woman some comfort until the doctor arrived.
Blanche began to speak, but Nella had to lean close to hear her weak voice.
“You…think you’re such a…a good woman.” Lady Blanche coughed, leaving a red tinge in the corners of her mouth. “It’s a pity he’ll…never…love you.”
Nella grasped Blanche’s hand more firmly. It would be so easy to answer tit for tat, to spew vitriol at the woman as she had railed at Nella. But no words formed in her mind. Instead, her heart overflowed with pity.
“God be with you,” Nella whispered.
And in what seemed the same instant, Blanche’s breathing stilled, and James came crashing into the millinery shop.
“Nella!”
He rushed to her side and drew her away from the still figure on the floor.
“They said a woman was bleeding, and I thought…I was afraid…oh, Nella, I was so afraid.” He softened his crushing grip and leaned back.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, my love, I’m all right.”
She leaned into him, and as the trembling began, blackness overtook her.
~■~
For the next three months James watched Nella constantly, knowing he was being overprotective and finding it impossible to behave any other way. He’d thought he loved her as much as any man could, but seeing her crumpled on the floor of the millinery, then watching her cuddle and coo over Blanche’s babe as they returned from Windermere had stolen his heart all over again.
Vicar Chancellor and his wife were thrilled to receive the baby they’d longed for, and James was satisfied that all in all, things had turned out for the best. Except for Blanche’s tragic accident.
But he couldn’t think of that now. All he could do was pace the room. From one side of his study to the other, he trod the floor like every expectant father before him had, praying for his own child to be safely delivered into this world.
“You’re going to wear the carpet out if you keep pacing like you’ve been,” Candleton said.
He and Pomeroy had arrived two weeks ago along with Nella’s best friends for the arrival of their babe. The doctor was secluded with Nella and her friends and it took every ounce of James’ willpower to remain in the library. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed above with her.
He walked the perimeter of the room, then walked from corner to corner and back again. Every few steps he would hear a cry of pain from upstairs and would stop and swipe his hand down his face.
Nella was having their baby.
Thankfully, Aunt Angela was with her along with the doctor and the nurse he’d brought with him.
James wanted to be with her, too, but he was chased out of the room as if he didn’t have a role to play in the baby’s birth. But he did. He’d been with her from the beginning and wanted to be with her now.
Nella was sure the babe was a boy, but James prayed it would be a little girl. A pretty, pudgy baby girl who looked exactly like her mother.
Another cry escaped the bedchamber. Aunt Angela had come down a few minutes earlier and informed him it was almost over—that the babe was nearly here. But it had seemed like hours ago. And there was still no babe. James didn’t know how much more he could take. He hated to think of his wife going through this alone.
Suddenly, he heard a pain-filled utterance, then a healthy baby’s cry.
James ran to the stairs and clutched the newel post. He wanted to run up the stairs, but his aunt said she would call him when his wife was ready to receive him.
He put one foot on the bottom step as if that would give him a head start when the time came. Finally, his Aunt Angela appeared at the top of the stairs. Her smile was broad and her eyes glimmered with excitement.
“Your babe has arrived, my lord. And is anxious to meet her father.”
“Her?” he said bounding up the stairs. “It’s a her? A girl?”
“Yes, dear boy,” Aunt Angela said as he ran past her. “It’s a girl.”
James raced through the bedchamber door and stopped short.
Nella sat propped on the pillows with a bundle in her arms. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. He walked to the bed on legs that felt weak beneath him. The sight of her blurred before him and he realized he had tears in his eyes.
“Oh, Nella,” he said, reaching for her one free hand. “My beautiful, beautiful Nella.” He leaned over and kissed her.
She returned his kiss and cupped her palm to his cheek. “Come and greet your daughter, my lord. She has been most anxious to meet you.”
Nella lifted the bundle in her arms and placed it in his.
The babe weighed nothing. Absolutely nothing, and he was suddenly terrified that she would break if he handled her wrong.
“Oh, James. Don’t worry. She’s not that fragile. She has a strong, substantial mother and a hardy, formidable father. She comes from sturdy stock. I only hope she grows up to have your fine form.”
“And I pray she grows up exactly like her mother in every way.”
James sat in the chair near the bed and held his daughter. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She even clutched his finger when he held it close to her little chest, just above her happily beating heart.
“Oh, Nella. She’s beautiful.”
His wife laughed. “No, she’s not. Not yet anyway. Your aunt tells me that no baby is born beautiful. They become beautiful over time.”
“Well, our daughter is the exception. I think she’s the most beautiful babe ever born. And,” he said, taking his eyes from the baby to look lovingly at Nella, “I think she’s going to have your beautiful hair.”
Nella simply beamed and reached for his hand. “You’re not disappointed then, that she isn’t a boy?”
“I’ve never been happier in my life. There will be plenty of time for a boy. But, for now, a girl suits me just fine. After all, our boy will need an older sister to keep him on the straight and narrow path, won’t he?”
Nella laughed tiredly. “I’m glad you’re pleased,” she said. “Now, what should we call her? Have you chosen a name?”
“I haven’t thought of that. Have you?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to name her after my mother. She would be so happy if she were here.”
“What was your mother’s name?”
“Eliza.”
“That’s beautiful. We’ll call her Eliza.” James looked down at his daughter and smiled. “Hello, Eliza Petronella. Welcome to your family.”
James watched his new daughter for several wonderful moments, then looked at his wife.
“Have I told you recently how grateful I am that you chose to save me that night?”
“Quite often, husband.”
“Then, let me say it again so you never forget. I love you, Nella. If I could live a thousand lives, I’d wish to live them all with you.”
He lifted her hand and pressed a sweet kiss as a tear of joy slid from her eye. In that moment he saw exactly what he must do.
She’d saved him from the world.
Now he would give her back to it.
Epilogue
“I’ve changed my mind, James,” Nella said as they neared the Marquess and Marchioness of Grantville’s town
house. “Let’s return home.”
Her husband smiled down at her, then reached for her hand and held it. “I’m right here with you, Nella. We won’t be alone. Patricia and Rosamonde will be here and so will Candleton and Pomeroy.”
“I know, but…”
“You’ll be fine.” He drew a finger down her cheek. “And you look beautiful.”
Nella trembled like a leaf in a gale storm. This was the first time since they’d married that she’d returned to London. The first time she’d ventured into a large formal affair in the year and a half they’d been married, and she wasn’t sure she had the courage to go through with it.
Everyone would be there—the ones who had ignored her, the ones who had shamed her.
Nella thought of everything that could go wrong: Blanche’s two conspirators could turn their backs on her; the guests could snicker and giggle at her; there might be rude comments about how she looked in James’ arms as they danced. Or gads, she might even fall on her face.
This night was bound to be a disaster. James could even get into a fight defending her honor like he had the first time he’d come to London after they were married.
Why had she let her husband talk her into coming to Town?
Nella knew his idea had taken seed the moment she’d mentioned to him that try as she might, she couldn’t dance. Hearing her regret, James had taken it upon himself to hire a pianist. He’d moved the piano into the solarium where they would have a larger space, and he had taught her himself.
He was a brilliant instructor. Kind and encouraging.
She treasured every moment of those hours as she learned to float in his arms about the solarium. She’d stumbled over and over as she strove to put her feet where they belonged. And then he’d forced her to look into his eyes, to keep her gaze fixed on him as they moved. And magically, she began to dance.
He himself was a marvelous dancer, but she had known he was. She’d watched him every time he’d partnered one of the sought-after debutantes during several Seasons. She’d sat on a chair at the side of the room and watched with envy as he’d twirled female after female across the floor, imagining that she was the girl in his arms. And now she was and she was terrified.
