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Chapter Eighteen
Beatrice slipped into bed in a state of utter exhaustion, depleted by the emotional ferocity of the last days. The next morning, floating up from the deep sleep that had claimed her, she knew the clarity and gratitude of someone who had entered slumber feverish and achy, only to awaken healed.
The pain of the past hadn’t inoculated her against William as she had once hoped, not after learning the source of his own suffering and seeing his continued dedication to her. Part of her still wanted to travel into the past and throttle him. But on the whole, she woke that day knowing…peace. A sense of forgiveness. Hopefulness.
“I’ve slept so late, I’d best dress in my walking gown straight away,” she said to her maid with chagrin. There simply wasn’t time for the usual wardrobe changes of a lady throughout this morning. The children would undoubtedly have breakfasted already and had to be raring to leave on the promised adventure.
Indeed, she found them upstairs with their father and uncle, all full of cheer. After calling out good mornings, Miriam and Edmund returned to showing Augustus the drawings and diaries they’d created as they studied Greek mythology.
“They speak of Zeus,” William said in low tones, glancing at his brother and the children huddled together. “But your presence calls to mind Aphrodite.”
She laughed lightly and picked up Ben, who had run to her. “And who, pray tell, is the Greek god of exaggeration?”
But she glowed under his admiration and hugged Ben close, then Isabella. Her daughter left to insert herself again amidst her older brother and sister, but Benny was all morning sweetness, clutching at her and babbling. She couldn’t help but cradle him for a moment as if he were a newborn, something he rarely tolerated for long anymore.
William stepped close and ran a hand over his son’s hair, smiling tenderly. “Why don’t we send Augustus out with the older three to start their adventure? You can have some privacy with Ben before breakfast.”
Before she could find the words to explain that Ben didn’t nurse anymore, he sat up in her arms and wiggled until she set him down.
“I could swear he was born yesterday, not over a year ago. But look at him go!” William said, his tone full of both pride and wistfulness.
She nodded, her face soft with the same sentiments. “After I have breakfast, we’ll be ready to leave. Ben, erm…he is weaned.”
Both of William’s eyebrows raised. “I see.” Examining her face, he must have seen the waves of competing emotions rushing through her. “Are you all right?”
“I will be,” she whispered through a tight throat. “It’s silly, I know, but I wasn’t ready for it. I should only be relieved, glad, but…”
He stroked her temple. “But what, my love?”
“I...” She glanced helplessly at the children crowding around their uncle.
William cleared his throat. “Captain Dalfour, what do you say to leading the first part of the expedition? Beatrice and I shall join you directly after breakfast.”
Glee animated the children, and Augustus winked. “I say…the last one downstairs is a worm!”
He dashed out of the nursery, followed by Isabella, then Edmund. Miriam held Ben’s hand as they ran out after them. Hannah, the nursemaid, curtsied before leaving.
Once they were gone, William offered his elbow and a smile to Beatrice. “Will you do me the honor of accompanying me to breakfast, Lady Candleton?”
“Of course, my lord,” she said graciously and with a blush. “But didn’t you already eat with Augustus?”
“Not without you. I merely had tea and watched him conquer the sideboard like it was an enemy.”
After sharing a laugh, they turned their attention to the governess and the maid, Hannah’s helper, on the far side of the nursery. “Enjoy the peace while it lasts,” Bea said with an understanding smile.
Underneath the lightheartedness, however, lurked the poignancy of their conversation about Ben. Rather than continue down to the ground floor, William stopped and guided her to a satin-cushioned bench in the hallway alcove between their bedchambers. She sank down gratefully, and he joined her.
A maid, who had been dusting nearby, bobbed and melted away. Once they were alone, Bea turned to William and he, in turn, took her face into his hands.
“I’ve been afraid he would be my last babe,” she said brokenly.
Despite his compassionate expression, she began to ramble. Oh, the words were heartfelt—acknowledging all her reasons to be grateful…they had four healthy children, and so forth. But she was backtracking against her embarrassment, and William was having none of it.
“Shh,” he urged, caressing her mouth with his thumb. “Come here.”
In his arms, she let herself soften. Who else in the world would understand how she felt about their family? Not her sister, Harriet, nor even her friends.
“I thought Miriam would never wean, remember?” she asked quietly against her husband’s neck. “When she did, I was relieved, yes, but sad, too. It was that way with each child. But this time, it happened so suddenly! And believing I might never again…”
