Chapter 16 #2
A groom opened the carriage door. Alexander exited first and turned back to offer me a hand.
Feeling as giddy as a schoolgirl, I placed my hand in his and alighted from the carriage.
The tall, elegantly appointed building before boasted a sign that read Bellingham and Co.
Two banks of windows showed off the wares within.
I recognized it at once as London’s most prestigious shop.
“Lady Beckett told me about Bellingham and Co.,” I said delightedly. “She told me there are various departments, with everything from clocks to bonnets and fans.”
Alexander smiled down at me, offering his arm. “I am acquainted with the owner, Mr. Tarquin Bellingham, and he has been kind enough to procure some special items for you that I think you may find of particular interest.”
I settled my hand in the crook of his elbow, wondering what special items Alexander could have possibly thought of. Already, he had plied me with stockings, gowns, undergarments, bonnets, sewing items, jewels, and books.
We ventured within and were instantly greeted by an affable gentleman who offered to provide us with a tour of the varying departments.
Alexander accepted, which was just as well because I was too busy craning my neck to observe the vast array of goods the store sold as we moved about.
Furs and fans, haberdashery, fine furniture, jewels, clocks, and even perfumes.
I had never seen the like, and certainly not all in one place.
The establishment was a fine one. I had no doubt that everything within was quite costly.
“Mr. Bellingham has gathered the goods he felt may be of interest to you, and they are arranged in a private shopping room, Lord Wheaton,” the clerk said when the tour of the expansive and impressive store was finished. “This way, if you please, my lord, my lady.”
“Thank you, that would be most agreeable,” Alexander said.
The clerk guided us to a door on the periphery of the haberdashery department and bowed. “If you require assistance, I would be more than happy to provide it, my lord.”
Alexander gestured for me to precede him into the small, paneled room.
And the moment I was within, I couldn’t contain my cry of pure happiness.
I rushed forward, instantly recognizing pencils and crayons for drawing, along with papers and brushes.
A handsome mahogany box was on the table at the room’s center.
I turned back to Alexander, finding him watching me with an affectionate expression on his face. The clerk had discreetly closed the door behind us, leaving us alone, and I had been too caught up in the drawing supplies that I had failed to take note.
“What is in this box?” I asked.
“Open it and see,” Alexander invited.
I lifted the lid and discovered cakes of watercolor within, along with a glass for water and a palette in a lower drawer. Ultramarine, Prussian blue, Carmine, Purple Lake, Venetian red, and yellow ochre were lined up neatly, their bright hues beckoning for a paintbrush.
“It is a painting box,” I exclaimed softly. “It’s beautiful.”
I had never seen anything so fine. After so many years of making the ends of pencils and scraps of paper my father had cast off suffice, the sight of so many new, glorious implements was like something from a dream.
“Do you like it?” Alexander asked.
I turned back to him. “I adore it. Thank you for arranging for me to see it. Perhaps I will have a few small pencils. Enough to last me until another trip to London.”
“I’m afraid not,” Alexander said. “You’re to have it all, Maddie mine.”
My mouth fell open. “Everything?”
He nodded, grinning. “Everything. And more, too. Bellingham will procure anything you like. All we need do is ask.”
I pressed a hand over my heart. “But this must be a small fortune.”
“I told you that I intended to spoil you, and I meant it.”
Tears pricked my eyes, and I had to take a moment to blink furiously to keep them from falling. He had remembered our first conversation in the carriage, the day he had brought me to Wheaton from Cliffwood.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Alexander,” I managed. Nothing had ever prepared me for this man. For this life.
“It isn’t your thanks I want,” he told me. “It’s your happiness.”
“You have that,” I told him softly, love for him swelling in my heart. “More than I ever imagined possible.”
He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Good. Now come along, wife. We have some furs, fans, and furniture to peruse.”
“We shall fill your house,” I protested.
“Our house, Maddie mine,” he corrected, pulling me into him for a kiss.
“Alexander,” I protested against his lips with a delighted squeak. “What if someone comes upon us?”
“Let them.”
His lips moved over mine, and I forgot to care.
“I don’t think London agrees with my constitution,” I told Lydia just before I retched for the second time in my chamber pot.
My stomach roiled, and the room spun around me.
I was meant to be getting dressed for a final call upon Lord and Lady Beckett before Alexander and I returned to Wheaton, but after rising from Alexander’s bed and venturing next door to my bedchamber, I had quickly begun to fall ill.
With a violent heave, I emptied the remnants of my stomach into the porcelain vessel.
Lydia calmly soothed me, her hand rubbing between my shoulder blades. “I’ve never heard of London making anyone bilious.”
“Then perhaps I ate bad fish.” I passed the back of my hand over my mouth in an indecorous swipe, trying to recall what our meals had been the day before and where we had taken them.
My stomach violently rebelled at the very notion of fish, and I wished I hadn’t spoken the concern aloud. I moaned, hanging my head back over the chamber pot as another heave went through me. Blessedly, nothing emerged this time. Apparently, I had emptied my accounts entirely.
“I don’t believe there was a fish course at all yesterday,” Lydia mused. “Cook prepared a roast, haricot verts, white soup…”
My stomach surged again. “Please, don’t speak of food.”
The mere thought of any sustenance at all made me want to vomit anew.
“Forgive me. I’ll fetch you a cool cloth for your brow. Perhaps that will help.”
I was on my knees on the Axminster in my chemise and stockings, which was as far as Lydia had been able to get with my toilette before I had grown sick.
My knees ached and I still felt faintly dizzied.
What unexpected misery after such a wonderful trip to Town.
I remained where I was as Lydia returned to me with calm efficiency, bringing me a cloth she had dampened and wrung of excess liquid and setting it over my brow.
“Thank you, dear friend.” Wincing, I held the cloth to my head and closed my eyes to keep the walls from dancing.
“I have been feeling a bit odd for the last few days. Yesterday, I was so tired that I needed to nap in the afternoon, and my head ached terribly. Perhaps I’ve been coming down with an ague and didn’t realize it. ”
“Perhaps,” Lydia said, a strange note entering her voice.
I opened my eyes, staring at her, noting an odd expression on her countenance as well. “Why are you looking at me that way? Have I something on my chin?”
Good heavens, what a dreadful mess I must look. I took the cloth from my brow and used it to dab the area around my mouth, the nausea slightly subsiding.
“It isn’t that,” Lydia said, her voice strained.
“Well, what is it, then? Tell me what you are thinking. I know you well enough by now. There is something you aren’t saying. What is amiss?”
Lydia bit her lower lip. “It is only that… Well, I haven’t taken notice of when you had your courses.”
I frowned. “What has that to do with catching an ague? I don’t recollect the two ever being related. And besides, I had my courses back at Cliffwood.”
“Precisely.” Lydia was still looking at me with that same, wide-eyed expression. “And it has been more than two months since you were last at Cliffwood. You should have had your courses by now.”
“You think that is why I’m ill, because I haven’t had my courses?”
“No, Maddie,” Lydia said gently, hovering over me and patting my arm. “I think you’re with child.”
I was finally dressed.
I had rinsed my mouth, washed my face.
Lydia had helped me into a beautiful new morning gown that I had received the day before from the dressmaker on Bond Street. A white sprigged muslin, it hugged my figure perfectly. My hair was secured in a simple chignon.
But all I could think as I tapped at the door connecting my chamber to Alexander’s was that I was going to have a babe. Alexander’s babe. I was going to be a mother.
My knees went a bit weak as I listened for his voice tinged with surprise.
“Come.”
He had expected to meet me at the breakfast table as we had planned when I’d left him naked and sated in bed. But I wasn’t certain that my stomach could withstand the sights and smells of so many foods just yet.
And besides, I had two bits of very important news to impart.
With a deep breath, I opened the door and entered his room. Alexander was dressed, shaved, and handsome as ever, his hair already brushed and confined at his nape. His dark eyes swept over me as I crossed the carpet to him.
“Is something wrong?” He wanted to know, striding toward me. “You look pale, darling. I thought I heard some odd noises a bit ago coming from your room.”
My cheeks went hot. He had heard me retching. That hadn’t crossed my mind before now, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. And according to Lydia, I would have more mornings like this one to come.
“I was feeling a bit…ill earlier,” I admitted, glancing over his shoulder. “Where is your valet?”
“Off tending to his duties for the day,” Alexander said, frowning mightily as he took my hands in his. “Do you need to sit? I expect I am to blame, running you ragged as I have all over Town.”
“You aren’t to blame,” I hastened to reassure him. “I have loved every moment of you spoiling me here in London.”
And he had spoiled me mightily. We would return to Wheaton with a carriage laden with gowns, art supplies, shoes, jewels, books, and more.
“And I have loved spoiling you, Maddie mine.” He studied me intently. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit?”
“No.” I swallowed hard, summoning my courage. “There is something I must tell you, Alexander. Two things I must say, actually.”
“Of course. Tell me what it is that troubles you.”
I inhaled deeply, looking up at the man I had married. The man who had saved me. The man I loved. The father of the babe growing within me.
“I’m not ill,” I told him. “I am in a delicate condition, however.”
Somehow, telling him I was having his child was easier than saying those three words that continued to elude me.
He stilled, his expression shifting from surprise to awe to happiness. “You’re going to have a babe?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
A magnificent grin curved his lips, and he took me into his arms as if I were as fragile as Sèvres porcelain. “Oh, Maddie mine. You’re going to be a mother, and I shall be a father.”
“Does the news…please you?”
“Need you ask?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he stared down at me as if I had just performed some manner of miracle before him. “I am thrilled, my sweet. Elated. I am the happiest man in all England.”
I smiled, pleased to see him so taken with the notion already. “Good. Then I must tell you the other news as well.”
He raised a brow. “Whatever can it be?”
“That I’m in love with you.”
I held my breath, awaiting his reaction, and stared at the painting on the wall behind him, too afraid to look. A hint of dizziness returned, making me sway. A sudden burst of nervousness assailed me.
Perhaps this was too soon.
Or he didn’t return my feelings.
He had married me out of pity, for heaven’s sake. I had been naught but a maid when we met. What had I expected? Oh, what I fool I was to think the time had come to confess my feelings. He desired me, but love and desire were two discrete feelings. Could one be had without the other?
“Maddie.”
His voice was deep. Beloved.
I still didn’t dare look at his face for fear of what I’d see.
“Maddie mine, look at me.”
It was the gentleness in his tone and the endearment he used for me that granted me courage. I tore my gaze from the wall.
And my heart leapt.
Alexander was looking at me with raw admiration. With such tender caring. With love.
“You love me? Truly?”
I was sure my answer was already written on my face and likely had been this last month at least.
“Yes. I’ve fallen in love with you.”
He drew me against him and cupped my face in his hands, hands that touched me with such worshipful reverence. “My darling wife, now you have made me the happiest man in all the world. For I love you too.”
I had to cling to his shoulders to keep from swooning. Perhaps it was my condition, or perhaps it was simply the joyous surge within me.
Alexander loved me.
This man. This beautiful, caring, compassionate, wonderful man. My husband. My lover. The father of this precious babe I carried. The Marquess of Wheaton. He loved me.
“Oh, Alexander.” My vision blurred, and suddenly, hot tears were rolling down my cheeks as I sobbed.
“Why are you weeping, my love?” He dotted kisses over my cheeks, drying my tears with his lips.
I sniffled. “Because I am also the happiest woman in the world.”
His mouth found mine, and we kissed furiously, feverishly, laced with the salt of my tears.
When I was breathless, he raised his head, gazing down at me with dark, glistening eyes. “I shall have to buy you pencils and watercolors more often.”
I laughed. “I would be happy without another pencil or paint for the rest of my life as long as I had you and our babe.”
“Our babe,” he repeated softly, wonder in his voice.
He dipped his head, his lips unerringly finding mine, and I kissed the man I loved.
For the first time in my life, I had everything I had ever wanted.