Her smile blossomed. This second chance at a lifetime of love was going to be fun.
* * * *
After a week of William cutting his work days short to dine with her morning and night, Charlotte shooed him home to refocus on managing his family’s affairs. She hated them living separately, but that would change soon, also. The first two banns had already been posted, and they would review wedding plans and living arrangements that evening over dinner at his family’s home.
Ruth had issued the invitation days ago, but Charlotte had not been feeling well. She still wasn’t, but she was determined not to cause any further delays for the Stantons in settling their future.
She lingered over her morning toilette before going down to nibble on toast and sip tea. When this stomach upset came on, she’d suddenly craved ginger marmalade on her toast, which she had always taken with butter alone or a dash of strawberry preserves. The ginger helped settle her nausea, which she assumed was the reason.
Unable to face the newspapers that day, she wandered listlessly into the library and to the settee in the small seating area there, carrying her tea and toast with her. She stared at the unlit fireplace, contemplating what she needed to get done that day if she could find the energy. Correspondence, following up on one investment, perhaps scheduling a visit with Belle. Still considering where to start, she leaned back.
Jerking awake at a knock on the library door, she checked that she wasn’t still holding her teacup. Thankfully it was in its saucer on the low table in front of her.
Her butler stood by the door. “Apologies for disturbing you, madame. Miss Rossi is here. May I show her in?”
As he finished the question, Belle pushed past him. “Thank you, you needn’t bother. I know the way.” She winked and nudged him on the way by, outrageous as ever.
Her gaze found Charlotte on the settee, still loose-limbed against the back cushion, and her jaw dropped. She hurried over. “Are you all right, Char?”
“I am fine.” Charlotte struggled upright from her half-prone position.
Belle leaned over to feel her forehead. “Hmm…no fever. Do you want to have a lie-in?”
“’Twouldn’t be much of a lie-in as I’ve already been up.” Charlotte muttered bad-temperedly. She hated people fussing over her, although if she had to choose, her puppy’s fussing was the least invasive.And most cuddly.
“Well, then.” Belle wandered over to the table, made herself a cup of tea, and returned. “What is the matter? And is that ginger marmalade?”
“My stomach has been upset for days, and I haven’t been sleeping well. It seems to like the ginger sometimes.” Charlotte shrugged.
Her friend’s expression went from curiosity at her sudden change in breakfast preferences to contemplative. “Anything else? Fever? Chills? Headaches?”
“No. Just the queasy tummy. And the sudden ability to sleep in place whenever I sit still for more than a few minutes, except when I am in bed, where I toss and turn for hours.”
“Even with puppy there?”
Charlotte smiled. “Less so, but yes, even then.”
Belle had a strange smile on her face. She tilted her head at Charlotte, as though searching for something in her expression or answers. “Could it be your womanly time?”
Charlotte squinted and cast her mind back. “Perhaps. I last remember that…huh. Just after the funeral, but then I must have had it since. That was nigh on three months ago, was it not?”
“Yup.” Belle’s lips smacked, making the word pop. Her grin threatened to split her lip.
Charlotte frowned at her in question, still running through the weeks in her head, trying to remember her last menses.
“So. Three months ago.” Belle’s tone was provoking, like Charlotte was supposed to understand something.
Not in the mood for games, she pushed back at her friend. “Belle, could you just spit out whatever is going on in that head of yours, please? I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“You haven’t had your flux in three months. You’ve been having untold amounts of sex with a virile, and may I say divine, young man. Now your stomach is queasy, particularly in the morning.” Her eyebrows raised. “When you catch up, you may state clearly and often that I. Was. Right.”
Charlotte frowned, thinking. Then with every word of Belle’s last sentence, her eyes widened and her brows rose. She fluttered her hands, something she’d never done in her life. “Belle! It cannot be. No! Belle? Fancy that!”
Belle smirked.
Charlotte wanted to jump for joy, but then worried if that was permissible. Her hand crept to her belly, and she imagined William’s reaction. A smaller puppy to love. Or oh gracious, he’d be putty in a daughter’s hands. She laughed even as she began to cry.
Belle waved her hands, her palms facing Charlotte, rolling her eyes. “No, no, no. None of that. Gah, I forget how emotional women in your condition can be.”
