Keeping Katerina (The Victorians Book 1)

by Simone Beaudelaire

  “Christopher,” her numb lips could scarcely form his name.

  His face swam before her, distorted. “What is it, love? Are you ill again?”

  “I…” and then unconsciousness rushed upon her and she sank into a faint.

  * * *

  Christopher caught her before she could fall and carried her to a seat, cradling her against his chest.

  For the most part, the conversations continued unabated. It was not at all unusual for young ladies to pass out. The doctor approached cautiously as Christopher patted his wife's face gently, trying to rouse her.

  “Is she all right?” the New Yorker asked in his broad accent.

  “I have no idea,” Christopher replied. “She hasn't fainted in ages.”

  “How tightly is she laced?” the man asked, suddenly every inch a professional.

  “She isn't. She has no laces at all. She doesn't need them.” Surely it was no problem to admit such a private detail. The man was a doctor after all.

  “Well if she's not tight-laced, and you say she's not prone to fainting, I wonder what's going on. Is she ill?” the doctor asked.

  “She's seasick,” Christopher replied.

  “Perhaps she's become dehydrated,” the doctor postulated. “That can happen when one is very nauseated.”

  “Perhaps.” How should I know? You're the doctor.

  “Would you like me to look her over?”

  Thank Heaven. “Yes, I think so.”

  “Let's take her back to your cabin.”

  They left the party and headed to the Bennetts' room, where Christopher laid his wife gently on the bed. He gave the doctor a hard look. He would under no circumstances be leaving the room. Dr. James took no offense. He didn't even ask. “Can you loosen her dress a bit for me?”

  Christopher opened the gown, demonstrating that there was, in fact, no corset underneath. The doctor checked Katerina's pulse and breathing, and, finding no cause for immediate alarm, pulled some smelling salts from the little bag he always kept with him and roused her with the potent aroma.

  “Ugh,” she moaned, waving the pungent mixture away. “What's happening?”

  “You fainted, love,” Christopher informed her.

  “I did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, now I remember. I was dizzy. It was very unpleasant. Oh, Doctor James, why are you here?” She looked from one man to the other, blinking.

  “He's concerned about you,” Christopher replied. “He wants to understand why you became faint, to be sure you're not dehydrated.”

  The doctor was examining Katerina's skin and eyes. “She doesn't have the look. I don't suspect dehydration. And you've just come from dinner. I saw you eating, so it wasn't hunger that caused your faint. You've been seasick?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, her voice a faint groan.

  “Vomiting frequently?”

  “Yes. Is that why?”

  “I doubt it. Vomiting can be the mechanism for malnourishment or lack of fluids, which can cause fainting, but in itself is unlikely to do so. Hmmm. May I ask you a very personal question?”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Katerina replied.

  “How long since your last menstruation?”

  She blushed furiously and then began to think…and think…and think. Her lips parted in surprise. “New Year's.”

  The doctor raised his eyebrows. “That explains a great deal.”

  “What?” Christopher demanded, not following the conversation.

  Dr. James ignored him. “When did you marry?”

  “Mid-January.”

  “Well that answers the question then, doesn't it?”

  “Oh, it can't be,” Katerina cried. “I'm not ready.”

  “What's happening?” Christopher asked, more insistently. The rapid fire of the doctor's expressionless questions and his wife's increasingly panicky answers was making him nervous.

  “Your wife is with child, Mr. Bennett,” the doctor said mildly.

  Christopher looked at Katerina, startled. “Is that true?”

  “It must be,” she replied, and the corners of her eyes were tight. “Oh, Lord, almost three months, really?”

  “Yes, really.” The doctor replied.

  “But… how?” Christopher asked.

  “Mr. Bennett,” the doctor said dryly, “I assume you understand how the process works?”

  Christopher's cheeks warmed. “Of course.”

  “Well then you know what happened,” Dr. James replied, talking as though to a simpleton. “You married this lady, you took her to bed, and now she's pregnant. That's how this works, Mr. Bennett. That's the purpose behind marriage.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  Seeming to sense their distress, the doctor dropped his lecturing tone and attempted to reassure them. “It's no great cause for concern. Married ladies are supposed to become with child.”

  “I know,” Christopher replied, “but it seems too soon.”

  “As long as the conception took place after the wedding, there's really no such thing as too soon,” Dr. James pointed out.

  “So perhaps my wife's seasickness…”

  “Was exacerbated by the nausea of early pregnancy.”

  “But I've not felt sick any other times. Only on the ship coming to Italy, and now, heading home.” Katerina interjected, still seeming not to want to believe it.

  “Well if you only feel sick when at sea, your early pregnancy is going better than some. Of course, as far along as you are, you were likely almost done with the unpleasant part anyway,” Dr. James informed her. “Around the fourth month, most women begin to feel better. Well now that I'm convinced you're healthy, I'll leave you in privacy. Be sure you keep eating and drinking water normally. And congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Dr. James,” Christopher said woodenly as the doctor let himself out of their cabin.

  Katerina looked at her husband in stunned horror. He looked back, his expression mirroring hers. And then they leaned forward and hugged each other in fierce silence. There was nothing to be said, so they just held on tight while the whole world shifted and changed around them.

  Chapter 20

  The voyage progressed more slowly this time, with less cooperative winds, and the ship did not sail into Southampton until the end of the first week of April. It had taken all that time for the Bennetts to come to terms with the stunning revelation.

  Christopher, who came from a loving family, had only required those days to recover from the shock and become delighted.

  Katerina was far more uncomfortable with parenthood. She had many fears about her ability to care for a child and was not ready to face them. Though she never said so to her husband, she often wished the whole situation would just go away. But of course, it didn't. Neither did the sickness, which left her terrified and miserable.

  Once her feet hit solid ground, the nausea abated somewhat, but now fear of the future kept her stomach roiling.

  They slept one night at an inn in the shipping town of Southampton before boarding the train back to London. They arrived on a Sunday and Christopher planned to surprise his father by returning to work the next day. He was ready. The wedding trip had been wonderful, but real life beckoned, and too much recreation time made him jittery.

  The tree in front of their snug townhouse had sprouted leaves while they traveled and seemed to welcome them with a friendly wave. Inside, new furniture they had selected before their trip had been delivered, and Katie and Mackenzie had made sure it was arranged comfortably and attractively in all the little rooms.

  The couple walked through the house, admiring how it suddenly looked and felt like home. The parlor now contained a sofa, a chaise, and two armchairs surrounding the fireplace. Paintings hung from the walls, warming the space. Across from it, the study had been filled with rows of bookshelves already filled with novels, as both of the Bennetts were voracious readers. Further in, the dining room contained a table big enough for eight. Across from the kitchen,
the music room had been equipped with Katerina's beloved pianoforte, a framed painting of an orchestra hanging above it. She smiled and sat on the bench, warming up her rusty fingers on an instrument belonging to her alone. It sounded just as lovely as it had in the showroom. She treated her husband to a spur of the moment concert before they clasped hands and headed upstairs.

  They had equipped one of the bedrooms for guests, and of course, theirs was fully furnished and ready, using the pieces from Christopher's apartment. Between the two furnished rooms, the third remained empty. Katerina looked at the blank walls and bare floors for a long, silent moment. Christopher slid his arm around her waist. He didn't say it would be an ideal nursery. He didn't have to; it was obvious. He could sense her discomfort, and it didn't surprise him. This was a heavy burden for a woman still so unsure of herself. He led her back to their room and distracted her in the best possible way, taking her to bed and making love to her until she could think of nothing but the pleasure of their bodies coming together. And then, as it was late, and both were tired from so much travel, they went right to sleep.

  * * *

  In the morning, Christopher headed off to work, late as usual. Katerina, after a long bath and a hearty breakfast, scrawled a brief note to her mother-in-law, letting her know they were home. Julia arrived for a visit two hours later.

  “Oh, how lovely this house is,” she exclaimed, claiming a spot on the sofa while Katerina rang for tea.

  “Thank you,” Katerina replied, her tone subdued.

  “And how was Italy?” As usual, Julia bubbled with enthusiasm. She seemed not to notice Katerina's lack of excitement.

  Rather than spoil the visit with her gloomy mood, Katerina pasted on a false smile and gushed, “Wonderful. We met my grandfather. He's been widowed for several years, but he recently remarried a lovely young singer from France.”

  Julia smiled. “I'm glad to hear it. It's not good to be alone.”

  “No. I suppose not. Um, Mother?”

  Her tone must not have been as neutral as she'd intended because Julia suddenly focused on her. “Yes, love?”

  Katerina swallowed. “I wanted to ask a favor of you.”

  Her mother-in-law leaned forward with an encouraging nod. “What do you need?”

  “Well,” Katerina said slowly. “I remember you were talking about having a party for us, for our wedding…”

  “Yes. I did want to do that.”

  “Well,” she chewed her lip and thought another moment, “my birthday is coming up at the end of April, and I was wondering if you would…”

  Julia seemed to understand her reluctance and didn't force her to complete the question. “Yes. Of course. Just tell me how you want it to be: how big, whom we should invite. I don't want to overwhelm you.”

  “Thank you,” Katerina said, relaxing. “I appreciate it.”

  “You seem… better,” Julia commented.

  “Oh, I am. So much better.” She smiled.

  “And also troubled.”

  Drat, she noticed. “Well, yes, that also.”

  “Care to talk about it?” Julia asked, her eyes kind.

  “If you'd like,” Katerina replied. But how on earth will I be able to express myself this time?

  “Very much. So, tell me what's good.”

  That part, at least, was easy. “I love Christopher. He loves me too. We figured it out in Italy.”

  “Excellent!” Julia exclaimed, her smile wide, showing slightly gapped front teeth. “And the troubling part?”

  A sharp pain drew Katerina's attention to the fact she was chewing her fingernail. It was nibbled to the quick. “I'm… expecting.”

  “Expecting?” Julia gave her a quizzical glance.

  “Yes. Expecting a baby.” Please understand again, Mother. Don't make me spell it all out.

  “Oh dear. That happened fast, didn't it?”

  She does understand. Thank the Lord. “It did. I'm… not ready. I don't know how I'm going to handle this.”

  Julia patted her hand. “Well, fortunately, babies are born with very simple needs. It allows mothers a chance to grow into caring for them. When is the baby due?”

  “Late September or early October, according to a doctor we met on the boat.”

  Julia considered for a moment. “So, this must have happened right away?”

  “It would seem so.” Her cheeks burned. The evidence of her hungry sexuality being baldly presented this way embarrassed her.

  Julia gave her an indulgent smile but didn't address the issue. Instead, she remained focused on the topic at hand. “Let me reassure you that every new mother is nervous at first. It's overwhelming. You're hardly the first to be upset by it.”

  “But this is different,” Katerina said, her voice nearly a whine.

  “How so?” Julia asked.

  Her eyes stung. “You know what I come from. What if I pass it on? What if I hurt my baby?”

  Julia shook her head slowly from side to side. “You won't.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Do you want to?”

  Katerina frowned. “Of course not.”

  Julia patted her again. “Then you won't. Don't worry, Katerina. Everyone will help you. You won't be left to deal with this alone.”

  “I don't want to deal with it at all. I don't want to be pregnant. I don't want a baby.” She hadn't meant to say it aloud. She glanced at Julia, expecting to see anger or disapproval in her mother-in-law's expression. She saw none of those things.

  “That's quite normal, my dear,” Julia said softly in a neutral sounding voice. “Don't be angry with yourself for feeling this way. I was no different the first time, and like you, I conceived very quickly after the wedding. It passes. And even if you're never fully comfortable with motherhood, it's not impossible to do the best you can for the child you have, and then not have any more.”

  “Is that what you did?” She cringed. What a terrible thing to ask.

  Julia took no offense. Her face and tone remained kind and tolerant. “No. Some of my friends did. After a time, towards the middle of the pregnancy, my feelings changed. I grew to feel glad. But neither way is wrong. You feel what you feel. It's the actions that count.”

  Katerina steadied herself with a deep breath. “That's good to know.”

  “How's Christopher?” Julia asked, shifting the topic.

  “Excited and happy. I haven't been able to tell him how upsetting this is.”

  “Perhaps it's best if you don't,” her mother-in-law suggested. “He won't know what to do about it, and it's possible your feelings will change down the road, once you adjust a little.”

  “I hope so,” Katerina admitted. “Right now, I'm just terrified.”

  “It's not a bad thing, dear. It means you are thinking carefully about all this, and about your responsibilities. A child could do much worse than having a thoughtful mother.”

  “As a comfort, I'm afraid it falls a little short.”

  “I'm sure.” Seeing she was still tense, Julia hugged her. The warm, motherly arms soothed her more than any words. “Try not to panic, Katerina. You're not alone. You have many people who love you and want you to be a successful mother.”

  “Thank you,” she choked, undone by the outpouring of support. I love my husband, but his mother makes the whole thing perfect.

  “Do you know what you need, dear?” Julia asked, pulling back to look into her face.

  “What?”

  “You need to talk to Mrs. Turner about this. She was trained as a midwife before her first marriage, and she delivered all of my children. She's also someone who knows what it is to suffer from difficult relationships. Will you talk to her?”

  Oh good, more help. “Yes, I would like that. I think it would be very reassuring.”

  “Well then let's plan on it. She has young children, so most likely you will need to go to her.”

  “That's not a problem,” Katerina assured her.

  “Good. Let's make a pla
n to visit her this week.”

  “Yes, let's do it.”

  * * *

  A few days later, Katerina found herself seated in a comfortable parlor on a chocolate colored sofa with a cup of tea and a sugar biscuit, a five-year-old little girl playing near her feet. It amazed her that even though the two women were the same age, Julia's sons were both adults; Christopher twenty-four years old, his younger brother Devin still at university, but close to completing his course of legal studies. Madeline Turner was also the mother of an adult child; however, her second marriage had begun when she was over thirty, and in addition to Collin, she had three children under ten. She was such a relaxed and comfortable matron that Katerina instantly felt better in her company. She always had, ever since the Colonel's wife and Katerina's own mother-in-law had taken the shy musician under their collective wings over a year before.

  “Now that you're settled with tea and sweets, Julia said you wanted to talk to me. What is it, dear?” Mrs. Turner asked.

  Katerina swallowed a mouthful of biscuit which suddenly felt dry in her throat. “Well, I'm… enceinte. I didn't expect this so soon and I'm terribly nervous about it.”

  “That's a perfectly normal reaction,” Mrs. Turner replied.

  “Do you know about my… history?” Katerina asked, for once glad the secret wasn't such a secret. She had no desire to explain.

  “Some. Is that part of why you feel nervous?” the midwife asked.

  “Yes. I would hate to perpetuate the legacy of abuse.”

  Mrs. Turner met her eyes and nodded. “It's a legitimate concern. One key to successful parenting is to know yourself. You've received violence, and you have those seeds inside you. Honestly, dear, everyone does. Anyone can snap at a child in frustration. That's why you must be honest with yourself about getting help when you need it. Not allowing yourself to become excessively aggravated is an important step for preventing abuse.”

  “My father required no frustration to become violent,” Katerina said darkly.