He lowered himself even more and kissed her belly. She could feel the shape of his smile through the sheet and nightgown. Why are you so wonderful? A sob hitched in her throat, and she was embarrassed to feel her eyes smarting.
At that soft, distressed sound, he glanced up with a frown. Hugh shifted, coming back up to face her. He arched a brow, and she understood the silent question.
“I do not think you can possibly be real,” she said hoarsely. “Surely there must be something villainous you are hiding.”
With one hand he made a sign. “Why?”
Because some foolish part of me believes you are the husband I’ve always wanted. Yet she could not say it aloud. It felt too uncertain and frightful and intense. And silly. Do not forget silly.
“Because I greeted our baby?”
She stared at him for several moments before she lurched up and hugged him fiercely. There was a moment before he wrapped his arms around her. Phoebe distantly realized that she was sobbing as if her heart was breaking and that his arms had tightened around her, and his heartbeat at his throat where her face was buried jerked furiously.
“I am not sad,” she said, squeezing him even closer. “Far from it. My heart feels such peace and relief, a place I never thought I could be given this past year.”
He lowered his chin to her head and simply returned her embrace. Phoebe’s lids fluttered closed, and she drifted off into sleep, clasped in his arms.
…
A few days later, Phoebe sat in the drawing room on a plush sofa, her feet propped on a well-padded ottoman. At her request, Caroline had been joining her in this room after breaking her fast. Caroline had no precept to guide her, and Phoebe wanted to help her with all the knowledge she had gleaned as she’d prepare for her come-out. Did Caroline know how to dance, to hold court with the wittiest of them, how to remain unflappable when those who deem themselves superior turn up their noses and make cutting comments in accents of withering scorn? It was not an easy task they had set for themselves. This was their fifth day of meeting in the larger drawing room near the eastern gardens for lessons. Phoebe had taken the time to prepare Caroline on what to expect at her coming out next season and had also given a few lessons in the art of polite chitchat and even flirting.
They had spent several hours laughing at how ludicrous the lords and ladies of society could be; however, Caroline had eagerly soaked up every piece of advice from Phoebe, even though she admitted she was not an authority on ton life. Caroline had revealed herself to be charming, lively, full of wit, and utterly distracting. Phoebe suggested to Hugh that it was best to hire a dancing tutor to teach his sister the complicated dances.
Caroline’s face creased in a tight grimace of discomfort as she sat on the sofa in front of Phoebe. Resting a hand on her stomach, Phoebe considered the girl, who was only two years younger than herself, with some measure of amusement. “Is it that torturous to wear a pretty dress, Caroline?”
“Yes,” she muttered, gritting her teeth, tugging at the ribbon around her waist and the laces at her sleeves.
Phoebe laughed lightly. “For what my observation is worth, you are stunning.”
And she had drawn forth a gasp from Phoebe when she had entered the drawing room a few minutes earlier. The light blue dress with the new lower waist complimented her figure, and her ash blonde hair was caught up in a loose chignon with artful tendrils caressing her cheeks. Sarah had buffed the nails on her hands, so they no longer appeared cracked, and the maidservant had instructed Caroline to wash her face in rose water for several mornings. Not that it had been needed, for her beauty was fresh and unique.
Her gray eyes widened, and she patted her beautifully coiffed hair. “Truly?”
Phoebe smiled. “Yes. And I promise you there are benefits of employing a lady’s maid who knows the latest styles to fashion your hair. There are those who pride themselves on being connoisseurs of great fashion and beauty. A measured word of approval from any of society’s matrons would see you received rather well in the ton.”
Caroline wrinkled her nose, looking appropriately aghast. “So I am not to be judged on my own merits and intelligence, but if someone decides to like me or not. And if they give that nod, the throng will follow?”
Phoebe took a delicate sip of the tangy brew of tea. “Yes. Knowing how to drive, how to ride, dance, how to walk, how to flirt artlessly is de rigueur for anyone of high society, and I am afraid you will have to learn.”
Her eyes flashed with defiance. “Then I do not need the ton’s approval, only from the gentleman I am to marry.”
That determined defiance, though excellent it might be, would not serve her well in the ton. Society did not celebrate a lady’s unique individuality, nor would they appreciate Caroline’s snubbing the need for their approval. It would be the surest way to alienate herself from those who believed themselves the arbiter of who was granted the nod of acceptance.
“If you seek to marry within their ranks, to be accepted in their social circle, you do need their acceptance, dear Caroline. I regret to say that ladies showing their wit is frowned upon, and one can only wish to form an attachment with a gentleman who would appreciate your peculiar charm.”
Caroline glanced away momentarily, biting on her lower lip. “And what if no matter what I do, even if I learn to dress in the first stare of fashion, walk as if I am on water, be witty and charming but not too bright to overshadow everyone else…what if they still think I am not good enough? Living here, I enjoy a considerable independence, which I am willing to curtail because of the dreams in my heart. But I cannot help but wonder what if it is still not enough for what I dearly hope?”
“What do you most ardently wish for?”
A faraway look entered her eyes. “I daresay you might think me ungrateful should I say it.”
Phoebe’s heart clenched at the yearning on her face. “I surely would not,” she gently reassured.
Caroline stood and hugged her arms across her heart. “I want a grand love with a gentleman who loves me beyond consequences and scandal. When I look into his eyes, I will see acceptance of…of everything that I am. I want children…a lot of them, and my family…they will not be ashamed of me.”
“A noble aspiration I would never dare dream of scoffing at,” Phoebe said, smiling up at her.
Caroline lowered her hands and fisted one on her hip. “And do you think such a dream attainable or do you think me foolish?”