I hope she is safe,Ursula thought, with a pang.She meant a great deal to me, once.
Graham reached out, gently taking her hand.
“You seem upset,” he murmured.
Ursula shook her head. “I am a little, I suppose. I wish Georgie well. If she ever comes back to England…”
“No,” Graham said firmly. “She is not welcome here. I have struggled to forgive my mother, but you were nearly harmed because of Georgiana. Youwereharmed.”
“It could have been worse.”
“Ay, and if things had gone the way she planned them, theywouldhave been worse.”
Ursula sighed again, nodding. “You are correct, of course you are. It is a pity, though. I cared for her so much.”
“You have plenty of friends, have you not? You and Charlotte are closer than ever. I declare, Charlotte has been a permanent fixture in our house since you announced the pregnancy, and she announced the wedding.”
Ursula chuckled aloud at that. “Yes, we’ve had a great deal to discuss. And I must say, now that Charlotte is to wed a man such as Lord Hartwell, all those unkind gossips who were so cruel to her look rather silly. She won’t be a spinster anymore; she’ll beLady Hartwell. A good many women have tried to catch Jonathan, but none were successful in their endeavours.”
“Tried and failed,” Graham agreed, grinning. “He is much too serious for them.”
Ursula shifted her position, wincing at the twinges in her back. She had not known much about the state of pregnancy, since pregnant women stayed away from Society, and she hadhad no younger siblings. As far as she could understand, her back hurt, her feet and ankles swelled, and she had developed an incomprehensible desire to eat turnip-peelings. She had also developed an irrational hatred for apples in all shapes and forms and had nearly burst into tears when coffee was served at a tea party she had attended recently.
It will all be worth it, though,she thought, patting her stomach.I’ll be a mother. We’ll have a baby.
She had already decided on a name. If it was a boy, she planned to name the babyAdam. If it were a girl,Elizabeth.
When she had told Graham the names she had chosen, he had only laughed and told her that she could choose whatever names she liked, since she was the one who would birth the baby.
“It only seems fair for you to choose,” Graham had said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
He kissed her forehead again now, leaning forward to tuck himself between Ursula and the windowpane, wrapping his arm around her middle. Ursula rested her cheek on the top of his head, watching birds flit from branch to branch outside the window.
They hadn’t been intimate in quite a while, on account of the pregnancy. While Ursula had other things on her mind, naturally, she missed the closeness. Even now, she felt a familiar spark of desire in her chest whenever Graham looked at her and smiled.
“Will things go back to the way they were, I wonder?” Ursula murmured absently. “After the baby is born, I mean.”
Graham considered this for a moment before answering.
“There will be differences, I imagine,” he said at last. “Bringing a child into the world is no small thing. But you and I will be unchanged. More importantly, my love for you will not be changed.”
“Of that I am positive,” she laughed, kissing his forehead again. “I’m a little afraid, to be truthful. Raising a child is not easy. My parents did not do it well. Mama talks often of coming to stay with us here, out in the country, after the baby is born. I think I should like to see her, but I am not sure that she would know what to do with a baby any more than I would. I was raised by nurses and governesses.”
“My upbringing was a little different,” Graham admitted. “My mother at least tried to raise me herself. There were nurses and tutors, naturally, and when Father thought I was old enough I was sent away to school. But Mother was always there. She tried, very hard, to raise me. I believe she always wanted her own children.”
Ursula bit her lip, conjuring up an image of Margaret, alone in her small house in Bath, spending her days wandering to the spas and taking the water, always alone.
A spark of pity lit up in her chest, and Ursula closed her eyes.
“If you wish to invite your mother here after the baby is born, I would not object.”
There was a silence, and then Graham sat up a little, twisting around to look at her in the face.
“Do you really mean it?” he whispered. “My mother betrayed me, and she lied to you. She tried to drive us apart. I have struggled to forgive her.”
“I am aware,” Ursula said nodding. She lifted a hand, caressing Graham’s cheek. She found his unshaven chin, with its pleasant scratch, a comforting contrast to the smoothness of his cheek. “And I know that you still love her very, very much. Perhaps a little forgiveness is in order. This will be her first grandchild, after all.”
Graham nibbled his lower lip, in a thoughtful manner.
