by Tuft, Karen
Kit was sorely tempted to stretch out on the floor of the study and sleep. He could barely keep his eyes open. “Most assuredly, I’m coming with you,” he said, somehow managing to stand. “What time is it now? Two? Three?”
“Nearly three o’clock,” Anthony said after pulling out his pocket watch.
“Funny how three o’clock seems so early when one is out on the town with friends and how late it feels when one is waiting for . . .” Kit’s mind went blank. He blamed it on the fatigue.
“When one’s entire world hangs in the balance,” Anthony said.
They left the study and climbed the stairs, their feet heavy. Kit listened carefully for any sounds that might be informative. When they reached the corridor that led to what Kit presumed were Anthony and Amelia’s suite of rooms, he was able to catch a few muffled sounds.
Anthony hurried the rest of the way down the corridor. Kit followed.
Elizabeth sat in a chair outside the door. She was sound asleep, her head resting upon her arms on a table set against the wall next to the chair.
Now that they were closer, Kit could hear murmuring inside the room, and other sounds he didn’t wish to identify, coward that he was, and a woman’s cries of pain.
Anthony groaned and paced like a madman at the sounds.
And then Kit heard a baby’s cry.
Anthony’s eyes grew huge. “My child!” he exclaimed, awakening Elizabeth, and rushed to fling the door open.
Kit moved to intercept him. “Not yet, my friend. Patience.”
Anthony looked as though he intended to pick Kit up and throw him clear of the door.
“Patience,” Kit repeated. “Give Amelia time to get acquainted with the baby first. She has worked hard for this moment.”
Elizabeth straightened in her chair, and Kit saw that she had marks on her cheek from where her head had rested on her arm. Her hair was utterly disheveled, falling this way and that from its pins. The daughter of the duke who sat there was the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld. He wanted to trace the creases in her cheek with his finger and pull out all of the remaining pins from her hair. He wanted to pull her to her feet and hug her. He wanted to kiss her again.
“What—Did I—?” she asked, blinking, comically and sweetly confused.
The baby burst out with another cry.
“Oh!” Elizabeth said, her hands flying to her mouth.
“Yes,” Kit said in reply, nodding.
“I’m a father,” Anthony said in a hushed, reverent voice as he crumbled into a chair. And then he wept.
And so did Elizabeth.
And Kit even shed a few tears—much to his embarrassment.
***
The baby was a small but otherwise healthy girl.
Elizabeth felt overwhelmed—with relief, with fatigue, and with anxiety over the baby’s sex. She sat in the corridor in a bit of a haze, watching the tableau unfold before her.
Not long after the initial cries were heard, a maid scurried out of the room, announcing that a girl baby had been delivered and then dashed off.
“A girl, Kit,” Anthony exclaimed to Kit, his eyes tired and red-rimmed. “It’s a girl.”
Elizabeth couldn’t tell what emotions Anthony was feeling. They were all so worn out and simply grateful the ordeal was at an end that whether he was disappointed that he hadn’t gotten an heir was difficult to discern.
Not long after the maid scurried off, Lord Ashworth arrived in his dressing gown to join them. Elizabeth supposed the maid had informed Buxton, who had, in turn, notified Lord Ashworth. Anthony continued to pace, impatient to see his child and be with his wife; he turned anxiously when the bedroom door opened once again. This time, Lady Ashworth came out of Amelia’s room, looking exhausted and pale but joyful as well.
“Just a few minutes more, son,” she said in a tired voice. “And then your wife may greet you and introduce you to your daughter.” She patted his arm, then threw her arms around him. “I am so relieved for them both! And she’s beautiful, Anthony, just beautiful!” she whispered. Then she embraced Lord Ashworth, who wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her cheek. Elizabeth couldn’t recall ever seeing her father kiss her mother.
Lady Ashworth disappeared back into Amelia’s room.
Such wonderful news, Elizabeth thought, after such a long day and night. Goodness! She needed to inform Aunt Margaret! She’d promised her. Aunt Margaret would never forgive Elizabeth if she forgot to wake her.
“I’ll be right back,” Elizabeth whispered to Kit and then hurried down the corridor that held the family’s rooms to the corridor where she and Aunt Margaret had their guest rooms. She knocked softly on the door. “Aunt Margaret! Aunt Margaret, are you awake?” she called softly. She knocked again.
She heard movement inside the room and waited impatiently for the door to open, and eventually it did. Aunt Margaret stood there, bleary eyed, wrapping her dressing gown around her middle, a sleeping cap covering her head. “Is there word?” she asked in a voice gravelly from sleep.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Come quickly!” She took Aunt Margaret by the hand and led her back to Amelia’s room, Aunt Margaret shuffling alongside her in her slippers.
“Well?” Aunt Margaret said when they arrived back outside Amelia’s door. “What do we have? The girl has forgotten to tell me!”
“Oh! I’m so sorry, Aunt Margaret,” Elizabeth said. She was so tired she could barely think.
“It’s a girl,” Anthony said.
“Ah,” Aunt Margaret said, nodding. “I have a great-great-niece now.”
Lady Ashworth emerged from the bedroom, holding a tiny bundle, and went straight to Anthony. “Meet your daughter.”
“My daughter,” he murmured, gingerly taking the bundle from his mother.
Lady Ashworth chuckled softly. “She won’t break, son.”
“She may not, but I might,” Anthony murmured. “Hello there, tiny one.”
“She looks like our Louisa, Ashworth,” Lady Ashworth said as Lord Ashworth joined them, placing his arm around her waist as they gazed down at their granddaughter.
“She does at that, Eleanor,” Lord Ashworth said.
The baby had ceased crying and was making little sucking sounds. Elizabeth longed to see her, but this was family time.
“Aunt Margaret, come say hello to your great-great-niece,” Anthony said, still gazing at his child.
The others made room for Aunt Margaret to move next to Anthony. “I have waited my entire life to experience this miracle, and my heart is near to bursting,” she whispered. She brushed tears from her eyes, and Elizabeth fished in her pocket for her handkerchief and pressed it into the older woman’s hand. “Thank you, dear; you are always so good to me. Oh, Julia, my dear, dead niece, you have a granddaughter, and she is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. Oh, Frances! How I have missed you! And now you are a great-grandmother, God rest your soul. Oh!” She dabbed more tears away.
“Would you care to hold her?” Anthony asked.
Aunt Margaret looked at him in surprise. “Oh, could I? Just for a moment.”
“Absolutely,” he said.
He carefully placed the baby in Aunt Margaret’s open arms, and she cradled her great-great-niece and cooed at her, and a moment that couldn’t have been more beautiful became more beautiful still, and Elizabeth thought her heart might burst. Or break.
“Come and see,” Aunt Margaret said to Elizabeth and Kit. “I wouldn’t have been here to experience this if you two hadn’t been there for me. Thank you, dear Lord Cantwell. Thank you, my sweet Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth and Kit looked at each other and then went to Aunt Margaret’s side.
Elizabeth had never seen a newborn before, and she wasn’t what Elizabeth had expected to see—the baby was purple and wrinkly, with a thatch of dark hair, and so,
so tiny. And a longing grew within Elizabeth, a longing and an instant love. In the smallest of ways, Elizabeth had helped this tiny one come into the world. She’d been a part of it. How could a person not feel great love after that?
“I believe your wife is ready and anxious to see you now,” Lady Ashworth said.
“It’s about blasted time,” Anthony said.
Aunt Margaret kissed the baby’s forehead and handed her back to her father, and Anthony bid everyone good night and vanished into Amelia’s room.
“It has been a long and tiring day for us all,” Lady Ashworth said, “and especially for Amelia. Thank God everything went as well as it did. But now it is time that we all rest and allow her to do the same. She—and our granddaughter—are in Anthony’s care now.”
“Agreed, my dear,” Lord Ashworth said. “Good night to you, and thank you for all you have done for our family today . . . and tonight.”
“And what a good night it is too,” Kit said. “I’m sure I don’t speak for myself when I say that we were blessed to be able to assist in whatever small way we did.”
“Kit is right,” Elizabeth said. “I have never experienced anything so beautiful in my life. I shall remember it always. Good night to you all.”
Kit offered one elbow to Aunt Margaret and the other to Elizabeth and escorted them to their rooms. “Sweet dreams, Lady Walmsley,” he said when they reached her door.
“Oh, they shall be sweet, my boy; you can be sure of that,” she said, placing her hand on Elizabeth’s cheek. “Good night, precious girl. And you are precious to me too, you know. For though I have surely fallen in love with that baby today, my heart only grows bigger.” She smiled, then utterly surprised Elizabeth by kissing her cheek where her hand had been and then pulling her in for a hug before going into her room and quietly closing the door.
Elizabeth could not speak.
“Come,” Kit said gently. He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her the rest of the way down the corridor to her room. “You are exhausted.”
“We all are,” she managed to say. She looked up in alarm. “You aren’t riding back to Cantwell Hall at this hour of the night, are you?”
He smiled. “I could; I daresay I know the way well enough to do it with my eyes shut. But, no, I have been given a room for the night, so you needn’t worry.” He turned her so she was facing him and rested his hands on her shoulders. “How Elizabeth-like it is for you to be practically asleep on your feet and yet concerning yourself about someone else. I think I will be putting that on my list.”
She looked up into his handsome, weary face, confused. Had her fatigue made her misunderstand what he’d said? “You don’t have a list. I do.”
“I do now,” he whispered. His hands slid off her shoulders and down her back, and he drew her against him. “I have begun keeping a list of all the things I love about Lady Elizabeth Spaulding.” And then he gently pressed his lips to hers, and the tenderness of his kiss melted Elizabeth. All the emotions of the day swirled together into a blessed dream.
A dream from which she prayed she would never awaken.
***
It was well past noon when Elizabeth finally awakened the next day, and she felt refreshed and invigorated.
“Good afternoon, my lady,” Sally said cheerily as she drew the curtains open.
Elizabeth blinked at the shift in light, and gazed out the window. The sky was a bit overcast and suggested that rain was headed their way, but it didn’t dampen Elizabeth’s spirits. “How are Amelia and the baby today?” she asked.
“The entire household is celebrating the safe arrival of Lord and Lady Halford’s baby,” Sally said, going to the wardrobe to retrieve Elizabeth’s dressing gown. “Mrs. Deal is even making special cakes for supper—one for the family, and one for the servants. Everyone is all hugs and handshakes. Never experienced the like at Marwood Manor—begging your pardon for saying so, Lady Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth knew well enough what Sally meant.
“Lord and Lady Ashworth and Lady Walmsley are in the breakfast room, my lady, but Lord Halford is with Lady Halford and the baby. Doctor Samuels finally arrived this morning. Good thing there are women around when there’s a need. He’s examining mother and baby because she’s such a tiny thing, from what I hear, and because, well, I don’t fully understand it all. I’m just hearing bits and pieces of it from the other servants. Would you like to join the others in the breakfast room? Or shall I get chocolate and toast?”
Elizabeth’s initial thought was to leave the others to themselves. She wasn’t family. She had written to the Duke of Aylesham in hopes of finding a position somewhere, and she expected to receive a letter from him any day now. It would be a relief to them all, she was sure.
But then her thoughts returned to last night and Lord Ashworth’s words of thanks and Aunt Margaret’s expression of love, and she decided she would join them at breakfast. It was a small thing, deciding to join the family at breakfast, and most people wouldn’t think twice about it. But it was a new way of thinking for Elizabeth.
“I believe I will join them,” she said.
“Very good, my lady.” She put the dressing gown back in the wardrobe and pulled out a simple but cheery frock of pale blue. It was one of Elizabeth’s favorites. “Will this suit?” Sally asked.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “And I think we’ll go with a simple knot at the back of my head for my hair today. I’d like to join the rest of the family as quickly as possible.” Kit would be proud of her. She hoped he was still here; Sally hadn’t mentioned him. “Is Lord Cantwell with the family, then?” she asked.
“No, my lady. He rose earlier than the others and left shortly thereafter.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank a little.
“Oh, that reminds me.” Sally stuck her hand in the pocket of her apron. “He did leave this note for you, my lady. There’s been so much happening today, I clean forgot. Sorry, my lady.” She pulled a small, sealed note from the pocket. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth took the note from Sally, broke its seal, and unfolded it.
My dearest Lizzie,
I hope this letter finds you rested and well. I’m sorry I had to return to Cantwell Hall before saying goodbye to you, but I will return again tomorrow, if you’ll allow me. For I find I must add things to the list I created, and I can only do that by getting to know you even better. Besides, we must also add to your list, mustn’t we? Until tomorrow, then.
Your devoted servant,
Kit
She pressed the letter to her bosom.
“I see how it is,” Sally said, a sly grin on her face. “If I hadn’t known it already, I know it for certain now.”
“Sally—”
“Oh, don’t you worry, my lady; my lips are sealed. But I think it ever so romantic, him being the one to rescue you from Marwood Manor and all. It’s like a real fairy tale. Now, let’s get that nightgown off you and this frock on.”
“Yes.” She stood, clutching the note in her hand, unwilling to set it aside.
Kit was courting her. She had never been courted before, and it felt thrilling and wonderful, and, oh, she liked being courted. More specifically, she liked being courted by Kit. Before she left her room to join the others, she sat at the escritoire and added being courted to her list of likes.
And then she paused and wrote kindness, friends, and babies.
***
Kit was looking forward with great anticipation to spending the afternoon with Elizabeth today. When he’d given the note to Miss Sterling to give to Elizabeth yesterday, he’d asked the maid to have the shirt and breeches he’d given Elizabeth during their fencing match—and any other appropriate clothing Sterling could think of for his plans—packed in a basket for them to take with them. He’d sworn her to secrecy.
She’d agreed wholehear
tedly.
He had his gig prepared for their outing this time. As much as he’d enjoyed having her seated in front of him on his horse and having his arms about her, they would have a picnic basket as well as the basket Sterling had prepared to take with them. He would have to settle for being practical.
He was a bit uneasy about the weather. Yesterday had been cloudy, and today was even more so. But, then, it wouldn’t be England if it didn’t rain, so he chose not to dwell on it. He tossed an umbrella into the back of the gig, just to be on the safe side.
He made good time to Ashworth Park, and a stableboy hurried over to take the horse in hand. Kit jumped out and took the steps to the front entry two at a time and rapped on the door with the knocker.
Buxton immediately opened the door.
“Buxton, old man!” Kit exclaimed happily. “I’m here to see—”
“Certainly,” the butler said, interrupting him. “This way, my lord.”
Kit shrugged and simply followed him.
He was shown to a sitting room that was usually reserved for family.
“Lord Cantwell, here to call on the family,” Buxton announced.
“Cantwell, welcome,” Lord Ashworth said, crossing the room to shake his hand.
“Thank you, and my hearty congratulations once again.”
Amelia, looking pale but happy, was seated in a chair and supported all around by pillows. She was holding the baby in her arms, wrapped up in blankets so Kit could catch only a glimpse of her little face. She didn’t appear to be nearly as purple today. Anthony stood behind Amelia, looking the proud papa. In fact, Kit didn’t think he had ever seen Anthony look so well. When one considered that Anthony had nearly died in Spain, it said a great deal.
Lady Ashworth and Lady Walmsley were seated side by side on a sofa, and Lord Ashworth was by the window, looking out. Lord Farleigh, who was married to Anthony’s sister, Louisa, sat on the sofa opposite the one on which Lady Ashworth and Lady Walmsley sat. Their home, Farleigh Manor, was in Buckinghamshire and a mere half-day’s journey to Ashworth Park. They must have traveled here as soon as word of the birth reached them.