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Chapter Thirty-Six
As Clara woke, her subconscious braced her for the nausea she’d experienced every morning these past weeks. Not the slightest queasiness struck, however, as she sat up. She stroked the indentation James had left in the pillow next to her before having to return to his own chamber.
In fact, she felt strangely ordinary. When the symptoms had first appeared, they accumulated gradually. The changes today were so significant and abrupt, she catalogued them immediately.
Gone was the metallic tinge in her mouth, as if she’d been storing coins in there. Her saliva was of normal quantity, rather than filling the cavity under her tongue with each wave of nausea.
Her mind crisp and her body free of the bothersome symptoms, she rose and put a hand to her belly.Little one, my body has accustomed to carrying yours!
After Molly arrived and they exchanged good mornings, she instructed, “You may select a light walking suit for today. I think we’ll be outside much of the day.”
“The apricot-colored? Or fern?”
“Apricot.”
Later, Clara greeted Mrs. Watts, who awaited her outside the dining room.
“Good morning, my lady. Mr. Robertson is out riding.”
“Very good. I’ll take some air in the rose garden until he returns.”
After Molly fetched her bonnet, she exited from the back terrace, which led directly down to the thriving garden that the staff now kept in honor of her mother.
This visit was the first in memory that wasn’t singularly painful. David avoided the spot altogether, finding the reminders too distressing.
Clara spent time there when she was in residence, willing to bear the pain to experience the beauty as well.
Sitting on the stone bench surrounded by the fragrant blooms, she closed her eyes, feeling more connected to her mother than she had in a long while.Mama, did you sit in this very place when you were pregnant with me?
She frowned slightly and opened her eyes, sure that a puffy cloud must have blocked the sun.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, discovering that James’s broad shoulders were responsible.
“A more bonnie picture I’ve never seen.” He smiled broadly.
She smiled back. “Good morning. Oh! You’ve been to the barley fields.”
James presented her with a soft green spike. “Aye. I was visiting the farmers and thought to bring you a flower.” He glanced from the garden to her, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.
She laughed. “This barley is just as beautiful as the other blooms.” She held it up to her nose; its distinctive malty scent was another memory tied to Anterleigh. “And how often in London can I smell cereal grains warmed by the sun?”
He sat down beside her, nodding. “I’ve never enjoyed the country more than this visit.”
“How was your ride?”
“Exactly as I hoped—brisk and bracing. You’re looking especially well this morning, Clara. How are you feeling?”
“Glorious! I’m feeling up to greater adventures. What do you say to going around the lake after breakfast?”
He leaned in to kiss her lips. “I say yes. I need five minutes to change and rid myself of Horace’s scent,” he said, referring to the horse he’d come to favor from Anterleigh’s stables. “Meet you in the dining room?”
“I’ll meet you there.” She smiled, watching appreciatively as he rounded the white stone balustrade and ran up the stairs like a boy.
He tucked into breakfast with the same enthusiasm, though in truth, so did Clara.
“What a delight to feel so well!” Clara commented afterwards as they stepped into the sunlight. “I don’t ever want to take health for granted.”
James pulled her close, and they strolled hand-in-hand toward the lake. Clara answered his questions about the property, unsurprised by his attention to detail.
