by Jane Lark
She looked into the mirror. “It’s this.” Her hand surrounded his cradling the weight of her breast in his palm. “Can you feel—it’s heavier?”
He was watching her in the mirror. He nodded, but he clearly didn’t understand.
Gripping his forefinger, she trailed the tip of it about the areola of her breast. “It’s darker, do you see?”
He looked bewildered.
“You have no idea what I am saying do you?”
He shook his head.
She laid his palm against her stomach. “We are expecting, Edward. You should know it would not take long the amount of times you try. I’m carrying our child.”
His jaw dropped and his eyes lit up with understanding and awe. Then he looked down at their joined hands. “A child?”
Ellen turned in his arms, pressing her naked body to his. “Of course a child, it will hardly be a puppy.” She laughed, leaning her head back to see him. “I am undecided whether I hope for a boy or a girl.”
“I will be happy with either. I’ll leave it up to you.” Edward laughed too, then kissed her forehead and hugged her tightly. “It’s wonderful, Ellen. John will return to the gift of a brother or sister. How do you think he will take it?”
Setting her palms against his cheeks, Ellen met his gaze. “That first night I knew how much you would mean to me. I tried to tell myself you were not my saviour. I did not believe it possible. But you were. You are—mine and John’s. You have been my rock for weeks. I’ve clung to you against the tides. Now you will be our foundation stone. Together we’ll build a new life. To think of John and his feelings first. You amaze me Edward. You do know I love you beyond all reason?”
He smiled. “As I love you. I need you too. You complete me, Ellen. You have done so since that first moment. I had no purpose without you. My life was empty. You saved me from my brother’s fate. I would be a bitter cold hearted, pleasure seeker without you—A child.” The last was whispered. “A child!” He lifted her and twirled her about.
~
Edward threaded and folded his fingers in between Ellen’s as they were admitted entry across the threshold of her father’s townhouse. Before the door was even closed John flew across the room, jubilant, as though he had been waiting in the hall for hours. Ellen dropped to her knees and hugged the boy.
“Mama, Papa, I saw your carriage from the window upstairs! Grandpapa said I am to live with you!”
“I know, sweetheart.” Her hand was on John’s hair, and Edward watched her eyes skim every contour of the boy’s face soaking him up. “We have come to fetch you.”
“Mama!” John hugged her fiercely once more. He needn’t speak his feelings his body said it all.
“My child.” Another woman’s voice echoed back from the white and black marble about the hall.
Edward looked up from the scene of Ellen and John’s reunion and saw an older woman. She was framed by the ornately decorated open doors of a state drawing room. A gray swirl of hair was caught up atop her head, her clothing was mauve, a color of half-mourning, but despite her age she still carried a great deal of beauty and a posture that would not have shown her age at all if seen in silhouette. She stepped forward with an air of disbelief and her eyes misted.
Ellen had risen and was watching the woman uncertainly. Yet when her mother opened her arms, he saw the wall of years that stood between them tumble, and it was no different then than how John had come to Ellen. Ellen went to her mother.
“Eleanor—my child. I have missed you.” The elder woman’s voice rang with heartache as they embraced.
Sensing another presence in the hall Edward turned to see Pembroke standing at the door to the library, the room in which Edward had experienced that appalling interview of only a few days ago. The room in which Ellen had learnt her father’s worst betrayal.
“Marlow,” the Duke spoke. His expression unreadable as he looked away from the women and his grandson and met Edward’s gaze. “I would speak with you if you have a moment?”
Edward nodded, despite the ice cold feeling which settled in his stomach. Whatever this man could have to say it would not be good. But Ellen had John back, and Edward would not jeopardize it now.
A footman held the door open, and after Edward entered the library, it was firmly shut behind him. Edward took a breath, steeling himself for what might come.
“Take a seat.”
He did, but remained primed to move if he did not like what was said. The Duke sat behind the broad desk. “I have something for you.” He pulled open a drawer and withdrew a piece of paper. Another bank draft. Edward did not even wish to touch the thing, but even though he tried not to look at it his eyes took in the sum, fifty thousand, more than before. Rejecting it, he stood.
“I have told you once before, Your Grace, I do not want your money.”
“Sit down, Marlow! This is no insult! I want nothing from you for the sum. If you do not wish to take it, so be it, but at least let me explain.”
Edward re-took his seat, his eyes threatening an outpouring of disgust if Pembroke dared say anything insulting.
“The sum is equivalent to the dowry I had set for Eleanor. A dower house, which came with her mother, and its surrounding land, was due to be Eleanor’s. I sold it off after, well, after she wed Harding. I could no longer bear to think of it. This is the equivalent of the sale plus more I would have settled on her if she had allowed me my choice. John is my heir. He cannot live in the home of a man who must find employment.” Edward leaned back uncomfortably, astonished. “Yes, Marlow, I have taken the liberty of looking into your finances.”
“But still you do this for John, not Ellen.”
“Does it matter?”
Edward took a breath, looking at the note. Did it matter? Pembroke was right. With the money Edward could keep them in the status they deserved, but it hurt his pride to accept funds from a man who had treated Ellen so badly.
“I see it does.” The Duke sighed and stood, suddenly looking as though he aged a dozen years. He paced across the room, passing Edward’s chair. “I know I—what I did to my daughter was wrong, but you have to understand my position. My peers mocked me for not being able to control her. Then I discovered the illicit course her choice had run to. How could I bring a soiled woman home to my wife? I gave in to Gainsborough’s blackmail to protect her, not me. I thought her safe at least.”
Edward powered to his feet, anger flaring like a torch, facing the Duke as he turned back. “She was not safe! Gainsborough forced and beat her! Have you no idea in what position you had left her? It was not her choice. It was never her choice. She felt as though she had no choice! A need to feed and clothe her son was the only reason she took that path and then you took her son and left her there.”
The Duke looked upwards.
A man like this would not weep but Edward sensed Pembroke was battling against tears.
Perhaps Edward had misjudged her father—a little. Perhaps Pembroke was more ignorant in his arrogance than callous.
“I know it now. I did not know it then. Eleanor made it all very clear to me the other day.” Pembroke said to the ceiling.
His eyes came back to Edward. “Believe me, I am sorry for what I have done yet I cannot change those past decisions. What I can do is see her secure for the rest of her life.”
“Will you say this to Ellen?” Edward challenged. “It would do her good to hear it.”
“No.” The statement was clear. Pembroke could not face what he had done to Ellen now, as previously he been unable to face her. “You may tell her of my feelings. Will you accept the sum?”
Edward held Pembroke’s gaze. If Edward did not he would be just like Pembroke, making a decision simply because of pride. But if Edward took the sum he could help restore Ellen’s life to what it should be. “Yes, on her behalf.”
The Duke’s stiff demeanour suddenly disappeared. His shoulders relaxed and he offered his hand. Edward took and shook it. The Duke held on and surround
ed Edward’s hand with his other. “Wiltshire was right about you, Marlow. I am glad my daughter found you, and grateful for your help. You are stronger than I and you are welcome in my family. You will visit often? I do not want to grow distant from my grandson and I would like to know my daughter again.”
A lump rose in Edward’s throat, he struggled to swallow it and nodded. Pembroke’s hands fell, then he returned to his desk, collected the bank draft and held it out. Edward accepted it, then folded it and slid it into his inside coat pocket.
It was over an hour later before he had a chance to speak to Ellen about the sum once they’d left the house, after taking tea.
Ellen’s mother had wept often as they’d taken refreshment. Over how much she’d missed of Ellen’s life and Ellen of her son’s.
Throughout it the Duke had sat in silence studying Ellen avidly as though mesmerised by what a credit she actually was to him, beautiful, polite, kind, and caring. She’d shown him no enmity.
But as Edward had watched her father and mother he knew the Duke was not unmoved. Edward had seen the brooding weight of guilt in the Duke’s eyes.
Now Edward sat with Ellen in the carriage, on their way home. He was facing her. John had curled into her side and fallen asleep, exhausted from the excitement of the day and what Edward guessed were many sleepless nights of fretting. Edward withdrew the bank draft from his pocket and held it out, giving it to Ellen without a word. Her eyebrows lifted in astonishment as she took it.
“A wedding gift from your father. He said I was to take it as your dowry.”
She said nothing, simply looking at the sum as though it was something odd.
“You do not mind? If you do, I’ll tear it up. But it will give us enough to buy our own home, and it will keep us for life if I invest it wisely.”
She still said nothing.
He started to worry. “He told me he is sorry for the decisions he’s taken regarding you. He acknowledged they were wrong. He approves of our match, Ellen, and he’s asked us to visit them, often. How do you feel about it?”
Her eyes lifted and met his. “If I cannot forgive him, I will be like him. I do forgive him. You may accept his gift.”
Edward nodded, understanding. She didn’t like it any more than he did, but it was the right thing to do. He looked at John. This was it then, this was their new life begun. As she had said, this was their foundation—their corner stone—what they made of it from here on was up to them.
“The future is ours to build,” he stated.
Ellen smiled, recognising his abiding sentiment—the past should lay buried. It could now and the money would give them a broader horizon. Leaning forward, she passed him back the cheque. It still felt like blood money though.
Once he’d slipped it back into his pocket, his eyes fell to John, and she reached to capture his fingers in hers.
“Thank you.” She smiled, lifting their joined hands to the carriage’s narrow window ledge. “I could not have wanted for a better hero. No one else could have done this for me, Edward.”
A soft laugh escaped his throat. “I accept that accolade although I am sure it isn’t true. But I prefer the role of husband and father over hero.”
“You will be that from now on, I don’t need a hero anymore. Just your love and to love you in return.”
“You’ll have a lifetime of it.” He lifted their joined fingers and brushed hers against his lips.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Ellen welcomed Edward’s brother, urging him in with a wave of her hand. Robert was the last of their guests to reach the old manor house. They had driven back up from the village church after Mary’s christening.
She and Edward had fallen for the manor on first sight, because it was not grand but homely. She never got lost in the same way she had done in her father’s palatial properties. There was always the sound of someone’s voice in the distance, Edward’s, or one of the servants, or John’s. She liked the comfort of knowing they were in reach.
The great hall, which she lead Robert into, was the largest of the manor’s rooms, its dark oak panelling stretching right up to the giant ornately carved rafters. It was full of people and noise today, conversation and laughter. Robert turned and embraced her, in a brotherly way. Without hesitation she hugged him in return. “You and Edward have much to be proud of.”
Robert hadn’t liked it when Edward had said they were seeking their own property, but Robert had accepted it in the end. They had not sewn up their rift though, just patched it in places.
Ellen caught up Robert’s hand and pulled him towards Edward who stood to one side holding Mary Rose. The infant was gurgling with glee against the lapel of Edward’s coat, gripping his cravat. He smiled and gave her their daughter. Ellen passed the baby on to Robert.
“Here, your niece and now your Godchild. She is longing for a cuddle from her favourite uncle.”
Robert took her but sneered. He was such a cad. Ellen knew he loved Mary Rose. Whenever he visited he hardly left the nursery. He was either petting Mary or setting John into a riot with a noisy game of war. Proving it, he immediately moved away to show off the child to her aunts. They were gathered in a cluster across the room.
“We are so lucky,” Ellen whispered looking up at her husband. He bent and kissed her mouth, as uncaring as ever of what anyone thought.
Ellen swallowed, she had yet to tell him she was pregnant again. Mary was only four months old. Ellen had been waiting until now. She had wanted Mary baptised before their thoughts turned to the next child.
She spoke against his lips. “I have news for you.”
“What?” His lips curved into a smile.
“You should expect another christening in a year or so’s time.”
Edward held her back, grinning now. “You are expecting? I had an inkling but I didn’t like to say.”
“Yes,” Ellen smiled. “You could have told me you knew.”
“And steal your thunder,” he laughed. “I think not, such news is a woman’s prerogative.”
One hand slid the length of her arm and captured her fingers, then he turned to the room, picking up a drink from a tray balanced on the hand of a passing footman. “Charge your drinks my friends! We have a double celebration!” There was an instantaneous move to collect glasses, and then they were lifted high. “You are about to again,” he turned to face her mother and father, “become grandparents,” then he looked about the hall, “and uncles, aunts and cousins” He smiled at the children, and then particularly at John, “and brother. In a few months’ time. My beautiful wife is expecting another happy arrival! A toast to our children!” It was echoed about the room and then their families moved as one to give their congratulations.
I am truly the luckiest woman, Ellen thought again as John gave her a hug.
“Mama, I would like a brother.” She smiled, holding him tight. He now reached above her shoulder and was less like a boy every day and more like a young man.
“I do not think I can control it, John, but we shall see.” She kissed his forehead and let him go. He moved to speak to Edward.
Now her sisters, one by one, stepped forward to hug her.
“Ellen. I am very pleased for you.” Rebecca held Ellen first then straightened. “You must come and stay with us in the spring. David values Edward’s company and his experience in managing estates.”
“That’s very kind of you, Rebecca. We would love to. I know Edward would enjoy working with David.” Rebecca kissed Ellen’s cheek and then moved aside.
Sylvia stepped forward.
She was heavy with child and she gave Ellen a superficial cuddle. “Mary Rose is so pretty. I hope my own child is as perfect, But I admit I am nervous of the birth.”
Ellen held Sylvia’s shoulders. The child was her first. “It is not so bad. As soon as he, or she, is born you will forget the ordeal of birth. But would you like me with you? I will stay when you are due if it will help?”
“I should like that very much, James fusses over me and it makes me more afraid.”
“Very well, it is agreed. We shall come and stay. Edward will distract James too.” Sylvia nodded and kissed Ellen’s cheek before turning to congratulate Edward.
Next Penny stepped forward, her own son of just over a month old cradled in her arms. Ellen’s fingers brushed the child’s cheek and the infant turned his gaze to her. He was more like Richard than his mother. “He is beautiful,” Ellen whispered.
“Richard loves his daughters, but he is thrilled to have a son at last.” Penny glanced across her shoulder at Richard. He was standing across the room, and their eldest daughter was tugging his hand, urging him to look at Mary Rose, while he was trying to have a conversation with James.
“He’s lovely, I am sure he will grow to be a credit to his father. I am so grateful for all the two of you have done for Edward and I.” They’d deliberately moved near to Richard and Penny, and they’d become close friends in the last year. They’d spent hours together.
When Julie and Casper visited they made a six.
“If he is anything like John he will be a son to be proud of,” Penny answered. “I hear he is learning the estate work.”
“He does not want to go to Eton still and we cannot persuade him. We have hired a tutor to prepare him, but he prefers to spend his time riding out with Edward and learning about the estate. I despair of John sometimes. Perhaps if Richard talked of his school days too John may yet be convinced.”
“I will ask Richard to try.” Penny smiled. “But do not be too hard on John. He has been through so much. He’s been overwhelmed simply getting to know his uncles on his father’s side, especially the Earl of Craster. Perhaps it is just too much too soon.”
“Perhaps,” Ellen acknowledged. They’d known it was important for John to meet his father’s family but he was finding it difficult to adjust to his new less restricted life. The only thing he seemed to want was to remain with her.