Page 54 of Loving Mister Stratford
“That isn’t how it feels. You said back at Bridleton how badly you wished for a child.”
“Whatever my sadness may be, your joys should never be diminished because of it.” She squeezed Odette’s hand and swiped at a tear on her own cheek, and then another.“I shall never forgive you if you do not celebrate my new niece or nephew with the appropriate amount of pomp and circumstance,” Meredith added with a watery laugh.
While Odette appreciated the sentiment, she didn’t want Meredith to diminish her feelings either—they were just as valid as anything Odette was experiencing.“Just promise me that you won’t pretend to be alright if you’re not. You’ve held my hand enough times where the least I can do is be a shoulder and an ear for you.”
“Thank you,” Meredith replied and moved to perch on the edge of the bed and embrace Odette.
This is what it is like to have a sister, thought Odette. Tears filled her vision and clogged her throat, a warm wave of acceptance washed over her. She hugged Meredith back with every ounce of emotion bubbling up within her.
“I miss Simon,” she whispered into Meredith’s shoulder without intending it.
“I know…” Meredith rubbed Odette’s back in a more maternal fashion than Odette had ever received from the woman who’d actually given birth to her.“When is he due to return?”
The question caused her heart to skip. She couldn’t very well admit that she had no good answer to that question.
“Soon, I should hope.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Good. And you’ll write to him of the babe?” Meredith asked as she sat back.
Odette could only force a small smile. It was noncommittal, but it didn’t feel right to outright lie to the woman who’d been nothing but her champion since she’d been introduced to the family.
“Very good.” Meredith patted her hand and stood.“I’ll leave you to rest. We don’t live all that far away; please do not think twice about sending for me if you need anything.”
“Of course. Thank you, Meredith,” she whispered sincerely.
“Think nothing of it.”
Meredith quit the room, leaving Odette with a very important decision to make. She pressed her palm to her abdomen.
Should she tell Simon of the baby?
Was it right to distract him at such a critical point with news of this weight?
Either way, this was not a decision to take lightly.
*****
With a great amount of relief and anxiety, but very little pomp and circumstance, Simon and Sir Nigel shipped off the final draft of their essay with its dozens upon dozens of pages of calculations, explanations, proofs, and summaries of their research. By this time next week, the hope was that it would be on the desk of the head of the London Mathematical Society. With any luck, the Society would see the merit of the manuscript, it would be reviewed and published, and Simon would be granted admission into the Society. His life would be on course and he’d be free to pursue his ambitions and work with the other brilliant minds in his field. His dreams were finally being realized.
However, as he tapped his celebratory glass of brandy against Sir Nigel’s, Simon felt as if something was missing from the moment. The hollow pit in his chest told him exactly what it was.
He’d denied it to himself for weeks and weeks at that point, but there was simply no use in continuing to refute just how desperately he missed his wife.
All well-ordered statistics, complex analyses, and consuming research couldn’t replace her touch, her taste, her smile. It was a lesson Simon had learned the hard way, and taken far too long to do so.
He was lost in his musings and snapped back to reality by Sir Nigel’s voice.
“The weather should hopefully permit an uneventful crossing to the Continent next week,” he said before taking a sip of his drink.“I’m so pleased you decided to join me. I think we’ll find this to be quite a productive venture. There are some fascinating questions—and even more fascinating answers—being debated about…”
The sound of Sir Nigel’s voice died away as Simon was lost staring into the depths of the amber liquid in his hand, seeing only Odette’s eyes in the clear cut glass. He gave his head a little shake and pictured those eyes overflowing with tears; he heard her mother’s words. Simon knew what he needed to do…where he needed to go…even if it killed him.
The arrangements for Germany were made. Most of the trunks had been packed and situated for travel.
Simon was going through his last piece of luggage, making sure everything was safely stored as it should, when a letter arrived.
He hated the thrill he experienced in his chest at the prospect of reading one more of Odette’s letters. The mail was spotty at best on the Continent and the delay between letters could be upwards of a month. This might very well be the last letter he received for some time.
He split the wax seal without checking the address and was surprised to notice it came not from Odette, but his sister-in-law.
