17. Stella

17

Stella

A spring morning, with cherry trees in full bloom, matching the color of my precious daughter's baby cheeks, I sat in a rocker by the window. Emmeline had just turned six months old the day before. She'd been an easy baby thus far and grew more so with every passing day. Although I'd loved her madly from the beginning, the last few months her personality had begun to show. Quick to giggle and babble, I felt certain she would be good-natured and talkative. Her brown curls and fair skin were very much like my own, but her eyes and mouth were all Percival.

I lifted her to my shoulder and patted her back, coaxing a burp from her tiny body. Satiated, she snuggled into my shoulder and fell asleep. Just as I rose up and placed her in the cradle, I heard the footsteps of Percival and Clara coming down the hallway. I'd left the nursery door open, and they stepped inside, careful not wake Emmeline.

They came to stand next to me, each taking one of my hands, followed by Charlie, who rarely left Clara's side these days. The three of us gazed down with adoration at the tiny sleeping form for a moment before heading out of the room. Percival let go of my hand to close the nursery softly behind us.

I smiled down at Clara. She looked smart in a sailor-style dress. Her hair had been tied back with yellow ribbons. We smiled at each other, mother and daughter now. The chosen kind.

"Hello, darling." Percival leaned close to kiss my cheek. "You're looking lovely this afternoon."

I flushed with pleasure. Having been denied our intimate times for six weeks after I gave birth to Emmeline, we had been making up for it in the weeks that followed. So much so that I suspected I might already be pregnant again. I'd not confirmed it, so I hadn't said anything to my husband. There would be plenty of time for that.

"Where have you two been?" I asked.

"We've been shopping," Clara said. "Finding something for your birthday, Mama."

Mama . Clara was the first child to call me Mama, and it had changed my life. Hearing the word come out of her mouth the day after our wedding had nearly brought me to my knees. Although my biological baby remained far away in the arms of my dear sister, I had Clara to love and nurture. She was my daughter as much as Emmeline or any of the children who might come later. We'd been lost—Clara needing a mother and me craving a child to love with my whole heart—until we found each other.

"But my birthday isn't for another week," I said as we made our way down the stairs for tea.

"Yes, but Papa said we couldn't wait for the last minute. We have to find the exact perfect gift."

"Which we did." Percival winked at me over Clara's head.

"I have everything I need or want already," I said, smiling back at him.

Mrs. Bancroft waited for us in the sitting room. She had come back from her morning rounds only to be called out again. I worried she worked too much, especially now that I was so busy with the children. However, she didn't seem inclined to slow down anytime soon.

Penelope, who had come home with me once Percival and I married, arrived with a tray of sandwiches and our tea. She'd been such a help to me as I adjusted to my new life as a wife and mother. Mrs. Landry had married our neighbor Mr. Foster shortly after Percival and I wed. She and Mr. Foster were now happily living in his apartment with a baby of their own coming soon. Mr. Foster had acquired a teaching position at a public school in Manhattan thus their financial circumstances were better than they had been. In more wonderful news, he had a New York editor interested in his novel. We were all on pins and needles waiting to hear if it was to be published.

Our former nanny had retired, and we'd hired a new girl, fresh from England, whom we all adored. Between Mrs. Bancroft, Clara, Percival, and me, the nanny had an easy job. We'd all fallen so completely in love with Emmeline I worried she'd be spoiled rotten—all the more reason to have more children.

We chatted about our days, with Clara entertaining us with stories from school. She'd recently discovered her nemesis in the form of a boy named Leo. Almost every afternoon, she had a tale to share about his endless teasing. One day after school, the headmistress had taken me aside to inform me that Clara had punched Leo in the nose. When I asked what provoked such a response, the headmistress had given me a mischievous smile. "He called her a weak little girl. She didn't take kindly to his depiction of her."

"Yes, but she mustn't resort to violence," I'd said, stifling my own amusement. God bless this poor Leo. He had no idea who he was coming up against if he thought our Clara weak.

"You may punish her as you see fit," the headmistress had said. "As for me, although it hurts me to do so, I've informed her that she must stay after school for a week to help me to clean classrooms."

I had yet to hear from Mauve. Whether it was that the address was wrong or that she couldn't find it in herself to write back, I did not know. Each night before I fell asleep, I prayed they were safe and well, wherever they were. I'd not given up hope of someday being reunited with them, but for now, I must focus on my family.

My father had recently sold his estate and disappeared. No one knew where or how. As time passed, I thought of him less and less. However, every few months, I visited my mother and Robbie in the graveyard, bringing flowers and cleaning their headstones.

After our tea, Percival and I went upstairs to rest some before it was time to change for supper. The baby woke still for feeding in the middle of the night, and I found naps helped to keep me from succumbing to sleep deprivation.

I lay on our bed and curled up on my side. Percival did the same, facing me and stroking my cheek.

"How are you feeling?" Percival asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're pregnant again, aren't you?"

My eyes flew open in surprise. "How did you know?"

"I'm a doctor."

I laughed. "But not my doctor."

"Yes, but my powers of observation are keen. It's not been so long since you were expecting Emmeline that I can't recall the particular shade of green that accompanies the first trimester."

I swatted his shoulder. "You shouldn't tell a pregnant woman she looks green."

"You're not green now." He smiled cheekily. "In fact, you're blooming, which tells me you've just passed into the second trimester."

"I thought I couldn't get pregnant while nursing."

"Not always the case, which happily is not so now," Percival said.

"Are you pleased?"

"More than I can say." He kissed me softly. "You've made every dream of mine come true."

"And you mine."

"We made it through to the other side. After all the tragedy, here we are, with our growing family and each other. I'm a blessed man."

"You certainly are," I said, teasing. "And so am I."

He shifted onto his back and patted his chest. "Come rest here, my lovely wife. You deserve a nap."

I did as suggested, snuggling close with my head on his chest and my arm over his stomach. It was safe here in his arms. The love and home I'd wanted so badly was in the beating of his heart.

"You're all I could ever want," I whispered sleepily.

"Good. I don't plan to go anywhere else but here with you and our girls."

Content, I yawned and closed my eyes. Just then, inside my womb, a flutter-like butterfly wings reminded me of the child who would soon bless us further. In my darkest moments of despair, had I known this awaited me, I would have had more faith that hard times did not remain forever. Each day brought the promise of redemption.

In the six months after his wife's death, Percival courted me properly as if all that we'd endured together previously had been wiped clean. Of course, the past had not been swept away, as this is not the way of the world. The past hurts, and betrayals remained in our hearts, but we did not allow them to keep us from the life we deserved.

I'd thought many times in those first months of our blissful marriage that the difficulties we faced had made us stronger and more compassionate. Would we rather not have gone through them? Yes. However, without the hardships and darkness, perhaps we would be unable to recognize our blessings and when they'd finally arrived.

As I drifted off to sleep, I told myself to remember during times of trial that one must hold on, knowing joy would come back around if we remained faithful to what was right and good, even when it felt like more than we could bear.

Someday, I would tell my girls this lesson should they falter.

Stay strong during times of adversity. Be thankful in times of abundance. Love with all your heart.