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Hester was relieved that only her mother was in the morning room as she arrived at breakfast the next morning. She had slept in and risen much later than she was used to, hence being famished as she entered the room.
She had hoped to have the room completely to herself but had known that at eight in the morning, it would be unlikely. One other person was good considering the number of people she could have been saddled with.
“Quite the appetite this morning,” her mother told her, as Hester sat down with a full plate of kippers, eggs, and toast in front of her.
“Well,” was all Hester said, then stuffed her mouth to avoid having to answer.
She still felt rattled by what had happened between her and Flint last night. Not least because she had been able to replicate his motions with similar, although not as intense results, this morning. All the while imagining that he was right beside her. All this time she had thought that she was either doing it wrong or that there was something wrong with her body, not that she had been focusing too much on it.
As usual, she was uncertain how much other people could pick up on how she felt. She would have liked to be better at hiding her emotions, but it was also tiring and frustrating having to study other people carefully and mimic how they concealed theirs. When it was just her mother, she would allow herself to be who she was. Even if her mother sensed that something had changed. She doubted that her mother would be able to discern what exactly was the matter.
“How do you find Mr. Gaywood and Mr. Drummond?” her mother asked. “I sort of sense that Mr. Eavesgrave is not of interest to you.”
“No, he...” Hester began, then looked at the open door as she heard voices coming down the hallway. It sounded an awful lot like Sophia and Addinggrove. “Perhaps we can talk about it later?” she murmured, and her mother sent her a gentle smile and nodded.
It was not Hester’s practice to confide in her mother, even though she would describe their relationship as close. Nevertheless, the only person she had really confided in was Sophia – and perhaps now Flint.
Sophia and Addinggrove entered the room, their voices high and their smiles wide. They greeted Hester and her mother before Sophia excitedly announced:
“Addinggrove just felt the baby kick for the first time!” Her smile was practically splitting her face.
Hester sent her friend a small smile. She knew she should feel happy for her friend, but somehow every step of Sophia’s pregnancy just reminded her that she might never experience motherhood herself. And despite telling herself that children were messy, sticky, and noisy, and that she probably would not like being a mother at least half of the time, she could not help but want one. Just one that she could play hide and seek with, take birdwatching when the child was old enough, and spend hours laying on the sun-warm carpet in the library studying the images of birds in the books there – just as she had done with her own father.
“Oh, that is so wonderful. It’s such a special feeling,” her mother told them, her happiness genuine. Despite having eleven grandchildren, Hester knew that she was looking forward to her three youngest children reproducing as well.
“I’m certain it’s a boy, he’s such a strong kicker,” Sophia told them and placed both hands on her stomach.
“I was rather hoping for a girl,” Addinggrove shared with them, which Hester knew to be a rare and honest statement for him.
“You cannot judge the gender of the child by how hard they kick,” her mother told them. Both Sophia and Addinggrove turned politely from the buffet to look at her while she spoke. “Hester was the one of my children that kicked the most. I too imagined that it would be another boy, but my husband was certain it was a girl.” She looked at Hester as she continued: “Father would always say that you kicked so much because you already knew where you were going. And ever since you learned to walk, you have gone your own ways.”
Hester smiled slightly. Her mother had told the tale before, but it sounded bittersweet now as she had no idea what to do. She had always imagined that she would marry at some point, but the last week had shown her that she would probably not. The only man who had shown her any interest, let alone that she had felt inclined to show interest, was almost engaged to another and had made her no promises despite what had happened last night. And Hester told herself that she did not want him to make her any promises. She had no desire to be a countess, although she was coming to realize she had every desire to be Flint Eavesgrave’s wife.
“That is such a sweet tale. I don’t believe you have told me before,” Sophia stated and turned back to the buffet again. “Then you might have your girl after all, Darling,” she teased Addinggrove.
“I’ll be happy as long as you and the baby are healthy, but you cannot blame me for preferring a daughter to dote on,” her husband teased her back good-naturedly.
Sophia and Hester’s mother carried much of the conversation as the two others sat down to eat. Addinggrove was more of the silent type, which Hester liked him for, but he would time in whenever he had something to say. Hester felt too rattled to try and make small talk with a larger group of people, despite knowing all of them well. She was content with listening and having their conversation keep her confusing thoughts at bay.
“I was hoping to lure you into taking a walk with me in the garden, if you have no other plans,” Sophia told Hester, as she pushed her plate away after clearing her second serving.
Hester nodded since she and Sophia had not spent much time alone this past week. It would be nice to chat, just the two of them.
They met in the boot room half an hour later wrapped in thick woolen coats and wearing woolen bonnets and thick leather boots. Sophia naturally linked their arms and Hester led her through the garden, heading for the lower part of the park with the lake.
“You are fit to walk, are you not?” she asked Sophia, as she realized that pregnant women might not be up for a strenuous walk in a cold, muddy October garden.
“Certainly,” Sophia said cheerfully and squeezed Hester closer to her. “What do you think of Mr. Gaywood and Mr. Drummond?” she asked.
It did not escape Hester’s notice that she did not ask about her brother.
“I like both of them, but I am not certain that I like either of them enough to marry them,” she told Sophia. “How did you know that you wanted to marry Addinggrove?”
“Well,” Sophia started, then paused dramatically. Hester could not be certain whether it was the cold and brisk wind or her friend was actually blushing. “Let’s just say I was certain.”
“Because you had slept with him before you married him?”
Sophia laughed and pulled Hester tighter again.
“I love that you never sugarcoat anything,” she told Hester, her voice as full of happiness as it had been when she entered the morning room only a couple of hours ago. “It was not because we had slept together.”
Hester waited as she expected her friend to continue. When Sophia did not continue, Hester prodded:
“Then how where you certain?”
Sophia laughed; the sound was carried away by the wind.
“Hester, it is not that I do not want to answer, it is simply that I do not know how to answer. I was simply certain; I knew that I was in love with him and that I wanted to spend my life with him. It... it was simply rooted deep inside me.”
Hester was not certain that she had any feelings of the sort. She was rapidly becoming aware that she would quite like to be Mrs. Flint Eavesgrave, although would prefer if she did not have to be the Countess of Lambourn as well. The bubbling feeling she had every time he seemed unable to resist her almost made her think that she could endure being a countess as well. For him. Except Flint had not offered her the opportunity.
“So, what you are saying is that if I don’t have this feeling regarding Mr. Gaywood or Mr. Drummond, then I should not marry them?” Hester tried to steer the conversation and her thoughts in another direction.
“Well, I would not say that. Many people marry simply because they find each other amenable and happy marriages can come from that as well. It all depends on what you desire.”
Hester did not have to think about what she desired, but it was not a trail of thoughts that she would entertain while Sophia was walking right next to her.
“But don’t you think it’s wrong to marry someone if you are not in love with them?” she asked tentatively. It seemed wrong. If Algernon Gaywood or Francis Drummond were to offer her marriage, she felt she would betray them by accepting it when she felt certain that she would never more than like them.
Sophia shrugged.
“My grandparents were married because their fathers decided they should. I’m not certain that they ever loved each other in a romantic sense, but my grandmother is deeply sad that my grandfather has died now. And there’s Flint and Miss Gaywood. They are not in love, but both seem content with the union.”
Hester looked at her boots as she mulled this over. Her parents’ marriage had been arranged as well, but they had ended up falling in love afterward. Although it seemed that it had not happened until ten years after they had married.
“In both Flint and Miss Gaywood’s cases, I think they have chosen each other because they are afraid of being hurt and not because they believe that this is the best path for them,” Sophia went on.
Hester kept her eyes on the mud on the ground, not certain what her face would reveal if she looked at Sophia. And certain that she could not read as much from Sophia’s face as Sophia would be able to read in hers.
“What makes you say that?” she asked as neutrally as possible.
Sophia huffed in a way that told Hester what she was thinking.
“I am not sure about Miss Gaywood. I do not know her well enough to know her reasons, but I believe Flint’s reason has to do with our parents.”
“What makes you say that?” Hester asked tentatively, wondering whether Sophia would think that she was overstepping a line.
“It is the only reason I can think of. At first, I thought that Flint had simply encountered unrequited love at some point and was afraid of it happening again. And although I cannot rule that out for certain, Percy says that Flint has never been in love, and I cannot think of a woman that he has shown particular interest in or a time when he seemed sad or agitated as people are wont to do when their feelings are hurt.”
As they rounded a hedge, they faced the wind head-on, and it was not before Hester had brought them into a little square with a fountain with a chubby toddler inside it surrounded by symmetrically planted shrubbery that Sophia continued.
“Flint seems almost convinced that something will happen to me or the child.” Sophia’s hands landed protectively on her stomach. “He actually confronted Addinggrove a few days ago and told him that he thought he was not taking good enough care of me, bringing me into the country and allowing me to participate in the house party.” She sighed and stopped to face Hester next to the fountain in the middle of the square. In the summertime, the shrubbery around them would bloom in different red and crimson tones, butterflies and bees would swarm, and the water in the fountain chuckle. Even Hester found the place a little enchanting in the summertime.
“I did not think much of it when I was carrying Arthur. Perhaps because I was a bit nervous myself and would stay more at home. But since it is my second pregnancy, I have a better understanding of what I can and cannot do...”
Sophia sat down on the edge of the empty fountain and gently pulled Hester down beside her.
“You know I do not like to talk about my mother. Flint never talks about her. He was four when she died. She had been bedridden for most of the pregnancy because of pain and nausea. When she was feeling well, she would invite us children to come into her bedroom and she would read to us or draw. She was very skilled at drawing. Like Flint. Did you know that he draws?”
Hester nodded without thinking of it but felt more cautious when it brought out a small smile on Sophia’s lips.
“I was two and I barely remember her. Perhaps all that I remember are images I have created based on what my grandparents and Flint and Percy have told me...” Her voice trailed off and she looked into the distance.
Hester gently took her hand, which was resting in her lap, then squeezed it tightly. Sophia sent her another little smile, before continuing.
“When my mother went into labor she was reading to Flint. Percy and I were ill and were not there. Normally a birth starts slowly, at least it did with Arthur. But my grandmother told me that everything was calm for one minute and then she heard my mother screaming for help, so loudly that she could hear it one floor down. She rushed up there and found my mother in bed, crying that it was too soon. And it was; she still had another two months before the baby was due. My mother was bleeding, and the birth was moving along so rapidly that it was not until several servants had arrived to help my mother that my grandmother realized that Flint was hiding in the corner, crying silently.”
Sophia’s cheeks were wet, and Hester handed her a handkerchief without saying anything. She was not certain how to react to this story. Despite the briefness of Sophia’s tale, she could easily imagine how horrible a scene it had been. Especially for a young child.
“My mother was dead within an hour of the birth starting. The doctor and midwife had only just arrived. My father was in London since they had not thought that she was due for months. You know how he handled the situation,” Sophia said darkly and looked at Hester for confirmation.
Hester only nodded. Their father’s way of handling the grief had been to drink and gamble for the next five years until he drove his carriage into a tree during a horse race and died as well. Sophia had once told her that she hardly had any memories of him.
“I understand why Flint would associate births with deaths. I just... I cannot let him marry the wrong woman because of it,” Sophia went on. She paused for a moment as she studied Hester. “You understand why I am telling you all this, right, Hester?”
Hester started nodding, because she sensed that it was expected, then shook her head as she realized that she had no idea. She was grateful for the deeper insight into Flint’s mind, although it made absolutely no sense. She knew enough about secrets and trust to gather that she could never confront Flint with Sophia’s speculations which left her completely clueless about what to do with the information.
Sophia gave her a watery smile.
“I saw the two of you yesterday, Hester. I know that Flint is interested in you, and I believe that you are interested in him as well.” She paused and Hester waited for her to go on, then realized that Sophia had waited for her to confirm this when she prodded: “Am I right?”
Hester looked at the empty fountain beside them. The chubby, almost naked – apart from a loincloth – toddler angel that was playing the harp. If the stone figure had been a living toddler, he would have been freezing. Hester shivered at the thought.
“I do not know what your brother feels,” Hester began slowly, turning back to Sophia and watching how her face split into a wide grin. “I do not know how I feel myself.”
Sophia’s grin diminished only slightly.
“But you like him, right?”
Hester nodded and turned halfway from Sophia again.
“The certainty you spoke of... I think, that if he was not intent on marrying Miss Gaywood and if he was not an earl, then I might...”
“Not an earl?” Sophia questioned.
“Miss Gaywood would make a much better countess than I, we both know that,” Hester stated as she turned back towards Sophia.
She had thought that Sophia would simply disregard this since people tended to disregard other’s concerns quite easily, but she looked pensively for a moment before she spoke.
“Well, that might be true. But for some other earl. Not for Flint.”
Hester gave her a small smile. Sophia sounded just like the naïve debutant that Hester had met her first season. The one who built castles in the sky and believed that every man who asked her to dance was in love with her. At least half were it turned out by the number of marriage proposals that Sophia received.
“Do you want to marry him, Hester?” Sophia asked more seriously.
“It does not matter. He does not want to marry me.”
Because that was the truth. If Flint had wanted to marry her, he could have broken things off with Miss Gaywood, since they were not formally engaged, and he could have asked her.
“We will figure something out,” Sophia told her and placed her arm in the crook of Hester’s elbow, dragging her deeper into the garden. “First things first: You need to arrange to meet him alone and undisturbed.”