Page 63 of Her Notorious Rake
“Indeed. I think it would delight us both.”
She glanced around to check if they were alone, and when she found they were, she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him again. His stomach twisted and he was smiling, dazedly.
Before they knew it, the custodian of the observatory found them and told them he was closing up for the day. As they rode down the quiet London streets towards Blakemore Manor, he mused, “Imagine an observatory we can visit at all hours of the day at the home I mean to secure us. I’ve been wishing to purchase a country house for the longest time, and what better occasion for it than our own wedding? Mother will be in better condition to travel in perhaps a half a year.”
“Thank you.” The gratitude in her voice was immense, and Dalton’s heart melted.
That evening, he found his mother in the parlor, now draped in a robe, her dark hair hanging over one of her frail shoulders. She slowly turned her head when she heard him enter, and he tried to smile cheerily for her as he paused, surveyed the scene. “How are you, Mother?”
Crossing the room, he knelt beside her. “I pray you are not discomforted, or ill at ease here. Should I call your maidservant?”
“I am well. Better than I have been in a very long time.”
“Your colour is much improved. And your vitality is somewhat restored these last few days.”
“The physician your friend found for me is an adroit fellow. Though, very stern with this whole weaning off the laudanum.”
“He told me your body is cleansing itself of the stuff, though it would take a long while. What would you think of a visit to the sea when you are up for it? My new bride should like to see it herself as well.”
Mother clasped his hand in her small, weak one. “That will be wonderful,” she told him earnestly.
Leaning forward, he pecked her on the cheek and bid her goodnight, eager to rejoin his bride in their chambers. “Sleep well, Mother,” he whispered.
The following morning they received a surprise visit from Theodore and Celeste, who were aglow with rapture over their news. “We are engaged,” Celeste declared to Dalton, Gemma, and Mother.
Cries of congratulation arose, and Dalton embraced his old friend, unable to keep from grinning. “You and Celeste are very fortunate to have one another. I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
“You are not displeased?” Celeste asked in a small voice.
“Hardly. You and Theodore are made for one another.”
He kissed his cousin on the cheek, and turned to clasp hands with Theodore, as Gemma joined in congratulating them.
“If it weren’t for your courage,” she told Celeste, “I wonder if Dalton and I would have ever found our ways back to one another.”
Celeste beamed at that, and it was a pleasure to see the cousin he’d come to care about instead of resent glow with such exhilaration.
***
Several months later, he stood on the shore of the beach, staring out at the sea stretching out endlessly before him. At his side, Gemma hovered, her small hand clutching his own. The north star hung in the sky, sparkling and diamond like, nearly as breathtaking as the young woman beside him. They’d slipped from the house they’d let for this trip, just up the coast. As Mother slept, they found their way to the rocky shores that lined the eastern side of Britain. Lacing his fingers with hers, Dalton led Gemma forward until they stood together, barefoot, in the damp sand. Gemma let out a cry, shrinking back as the water lapped at her shins.
This trip, they weren’t doing much socializing with other wealthy acquaintances staying nearby. Gemma was showing now, and in her condition, they tended to forego any parties or dances or soirees. Attending those was hardly appealing to Gemma, already several months along. She gasped, clutching her belly, and stared up at Dalton. “I felt our baby kick,” she whispered. “There, he moved again!”
Dalton rested his hand over the top of her stomach, unable to suppress a giddy smile as he too felt the faint kick against his palm. It was so soft he barely noticed it, but when he did, his chest squeezed. In but a few months, this baby his beloved wifecarried would be brought forth into the world, and he would be a father. It was odd to think that not a year ago this day, he was a bitter, lonely fellow, searching aimlessly for comfort and gratification, even as he shattered bit by bit inside.
“Tomorrow, Prudence and Lord Neville arrive. I think the sea will be wonderful for her, as she’s been much more sick than I.”
“Prudence adores the coast regardless.” Dalton brushed some loose strands of hair away from Gemma’s brow. “Mother’s colour is returning. Have you seen?” Dalton asked.
She touched his cheek with her small, suntanned hand. “She is much improved. The sea is doing wonders for her. I shouldn’t be surprised if by the end of our stay here, she will be able to take a walk up to the cape.”
Those words filled Dalton with an aching sense of hope. His mother’s progress had been slower than the new physician liked, but at least she was nearly wholly weaned from laudanum. It had been a painful process, nevertheless. Pure agony to watch her suffer, to watch the chills rack her slight form, to watch how she fought to hide it, and yet, her voice shook with the pain of it. “She sleeps more soundly, the physician tells me,” he said aloud after a pause. “And her fevers are not as frequent. But a great deal of her strength is gone. Not what it used to be. I pray that she lives a few more years.”
“She will,” Gemma told him, earnest. He nodded, fighting the emotions that rose to choke him.
Patting his bride’s hand, he thanked her. “I know it has not been an easy first few months of matrimony. With my mother’s health, and now the coming child…I pray you are not ill at ease with any of it.”
“Not a bit. I am just grateful to be here, at your side, watching the stars together.”
