Jersey
Summer 1875
The sun was setting in great splashes of pink over the sea, while a glorious splendor of light outlined the thick, downy clouds that floated over the horizon. Blake, who was perched on a stool at the edge of the lawn—paintbrush in one hand, his palette in the other—reveled in the persistent call of the waves upon the rocks below, while he touched up the painting he had begun a few days before. Overhead, seagulls soared and dove down to the silvery surface of the water, and he watched them with the observant eye of an artist, noting the reflection of color and light upon their feathered wings.
Not far away, Chelsea was reclining on a teak lawn chair on the stone terrace. She, too, was listening to the call of the sea. Eyes closed, she ran her fingertips lightly back and forth over her swollen belly.
“You must come and feel this!” she called out to him, opening her eyes suddenly and lifting her head off the chair.
Blake set down his brush and palette, rose from the stool and walked across the lawn. He placed the flat of his hand on her belly.
“Do you feel him?” she asked.
“You say ‘him’ as if you’re certain it’s a boy.”
“I am. I don’t know why. I just feel it.”
Her stomach jerked and joggled before their eyes.
“Did you see that?” Blake said, laughing. “That’s how you know it’s a boy. Obviously he has two gigantic feet, and he’s as strong as an ox.”
Chelsea laughed, too, and looked up at her husband with love.
“What shall we name him?” she asked. “We’ve not yet decided, and we only have a few more weeks. Have you given any more thought to Theodore, after your father?”
Just then Sebastian and Melissa emerged from inside the house with baby James, and crossed the terrace toward them.
“This just came for you,” Sebastian said. He handed Chelsea a letter.
She swung her legs to the ground, sat up on the edge of the lounge chair, broke the seal and began to read the note. “It’s from a London publisher,” she told them, rising heftily to her feet. “They want to publish the story I sent them, and they want to see more of my work. They want to see everything I have written!”
Melissa, who was bouncing baby James in her arms, exclaimed with delight. “That’s wonderful, Chelsea! I always knew we would see your stories in print. Congratulations.”
Chelsea lowered the letter to her side and looked at Blake. “I can’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” he said.
She smiled. “I daresay it is. But I could never have sent them this story without your confidence and encouragement, Blake. Thank you.”
He stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. “It was your talent and imagination that won their esteem, darling. I had very little to do with it.”
“You’re going to be famous,” Melissa interrupted.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” she replied, laughing at the idea. “I suggest we see how well my story is received before we make that claim.”
“Who’s going to be famous?” her mother asked, coming around the side of the house as she returned from her evening stroll. At her side was Dr. Melville, her fiancé. They had been walking on the beach, exploring the sea caves.
“Our very own Chelsea,” Sebastian said with pride. “One of her stories has been accepted for publication.”
“How extraordinary,” her mother replied, but the initial excitement in her eyes quickly died away. “I hope you’re not going to write under your own name. My wedding is only three weeks away. I can’t possibly arrange it with another scandal looming. We only just tiptoed out from under the last one.”
Chelsea took her mother’s concerns quite seriously. “I do have time to think about it,” she said. “But either way, you’ll be married and gone off on your honeymoon by the time the book is printed. I predict your wedding day shall proceed without a single hitch.”
Lady Neufeld looked up at Dr. Melville and smiled alluringly. “Only three more weeks, darling. Then we will be strolling the beaches of Monaco.”
A seagull sang a shrill song over their heads, and the sun glowed like a great ball of orange fire in the twilight sky.
“Shall we go inside and dress for dinner?” Sebastian asked, addressing Melissa, who nodded and carried little James toward the door.
Later that night, after a quiet dinner with her husband and family, Chelsea lay in bed beside Blake, warm and safe in his arms as they looked out the window at the full moon. “I am so glad I found you that day,” she said softly. “Imagine if I had not gone walking…”
He kissed the top of her head. “You saved my life.”
She snuggled closer to him, laid her hand upon his cheek and gazed into his eyes. “Just as you saved mine. I never knew happiness like this was possible, Blake, and now I have everything I ever dreamed of. I am so grateful.”
And as he lowered his lips to hers and they basked in their feelings of love and completeness, the ocean waves surged and exploded onto the rocks outside their summer retreat, and their baby kicked his little legs in her belly, immensely eager to greet the world.