Page 54 of Everything But the Earl
When she returned, she didn’t feel any better, but Catrin had gone to the water pump in the kitchen and gotten Grace some water.
“Drink this.”
“A baby? I’m to have a baby?”
“Did it really not occur to you after you and your husband…had marital relations.”
“No,” Grace said honestly. “I didn’t think about it at all.”
Catrin smiled. “Charmingly naive of you. Is not the whole point of consummating a marriage to an earl to make little earls?”
“I suppose, but we never talked about it. I assumed we’d have children eventually. But now?”
“You should see a doctor to confirm it. But yes, I think that is why you are feeling not quite yourself. All the signs are there.”
A baby. Grace had logically known this was a possibility, but the way her mother had explained marital relations had made the process of conceiving a child sound so dry and dull—an indignity to be tolerated—and not like the beautiful intimacy Grace and Owen had shared. Mother had never talked about how it could feel to be with a man, how Owen made Grace’s body sing, or how being with Owen had made Grace feel closer to him. Everything they’d done together had been thrilling and exciting, the opposite of dry and dull, and somehow it had just never occurred to Grace that in her time with Owen, they could have conceived a child.
And yet, as soon as Catrin had said it, Grace knew it was true.
“But I don’t know anything about having a baby. What do I do? I can’t have a baby,” Grace said.
Catrin smiled. “Women have been having babies for thousands of years, my dear. You can do it, and I will help you. What are friends for, after all?”
“It hurts, doesn’t it? It must be terribly painful.”
“I’ll be honest, a lot of it is terrible. I got over the initial sickness pretty quickly, but I was often very uncomfortable. And yes, when you push that baby out, it does hurt a great deal. But then the doctor places your child in your arms and you forget all about your pain.”
Grace was dubious of that. And now she felt terrible.
“I have to…” Then Grace bolted for the garden again.
Chapter Thirteen
Dearest Grace,
Thank you for your continued descriptions of what is happening at home. I am glad renovations are proceeding apace.
I am sad to report that I feel obligated to continue to fight with my colleagues in Parliament for a new bill I am proposing to help laborers who are worried about being replaced by machines, which I believe will put an end to the rebellions. I hope my solution is one everyone finds satisfactory, although I do not have confidence that this will be the case. Parliament is disagreeable in that way.
It is unfortunate because I want nothing more than to run from London and my obligations here so that I might be in your arms sooner. My friends tell me I am acting like a besotted fool, and I suppose I am. Maybe the distance between us is making me grow fonder of you, or perhaps this friendship we have been forging with our correspondence has made me want to hear your voice, but whatever it is, I do miss you, and I want you to know that. Beresford said to me recently that you deserved someone who cared for you in a way that he could not, and I do hope that I am that person, even all the way in London. I think of you often. I hope to be at your side once we take care of our current government business.
Perhaps you miss me also. I understand if you do not, but I would be gratified to hear that you think of me sometimes in your next letter…
Once Grace had confirmation from herdoctor that she was indeed increasing, and once she got over feeling like this was an existential crisis, Grace considered telling Owen about the baby.
But somehow, it felt easier not to.
For one thing, Catrin had been happy to answer her most invasive questions candidly, for which Grace was enormously grateful. Owen didn’t need to know about the particulars of any of that. Grace worried that if he knew about it, he’d never want to lie with her again.
For another thing, Owen’s last few letters had indicated that he was busy with government business. There were strikes and seditious pamphleteers and all sorts of things going on in London. And Grace knew, without needing to ask, that Owen would abandon all of it and run home to her the moment he knew they were to have a child. But the baby’s arrival was still months away, and Owen’s place was in London.
So Grace…didn’t tell him.
Shedidthink of him often. How could she not? She lived in his house, where his presence was everywhere, and his child was growing in her womb. And hearing Owen express that he missed her so explicitly did warm her heart. She often found herself yearning to speak to him as well, to touch him, to be held by him. She’d missed their physical intimacy acutely in the weeks after he’d left, and although that ache was not so strong anymore, she did sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, wishing he were there.
The one thing she could have done without, though, was everyone treating her like a porcelain doll the moment it became apparent that she was pregnant.
Gwen and Carys Williams came to visit on Grace’s invite and brought her a hamper full of food they said would be good for the baby. They insisted on coming to the house instead of letting Grace come to them, and even though most of their advice sounded like old wives’ tales, Grace was happy for the company. But when she started to move about the room, they insisted she sit down.
