Page 49 of Jillian’s Wild Heart (Ladies of Munro #4)

W hen, by Tuesday morning, Jillian had awoken once again with the urge to toss a breakfast she had not yet consumed, she was quite decided.

She was with child. The past three days, she had felt exceedingly tired, although the nausea did lessen as the day progressed.

She was growing used to her new pattern of existence, which was slower.

And more fragile. Rather like the life she carried within her womb.

It also meant that, by early afternoon, she knew it was safe to leave the despised, ever-ready bowl behind and stretch her legs along the village road, even if it was at half the pace she was used to.

It was also why, when she saw Ellena, Christopher, and his nurse heading back from the village toward her, she did not have the usual strength and alacrity to nip across the field and dodge them.

They were currently pausing over a patch of daisies. Ellena was reaching down to gather a small posy. Perhaps she planned to make a floral chain for herself as the two of them used to do when they’d been nymphs together. Or maybe she intended to shape a wreath with which to crown her son and heir.

The sight of Christopher clutching a single flower in his chubby, little hand and jamming it clumsily up against his nose brought a surge of maternal feeling to Jillian’s breast. Next year, it would be her own son or daughter who tugged so at her heartstrings.

It was wrong that Ellena was not part of her journey into motherhood.

Their tiff had been silly. Jillian hadn’t even gone to the dance that had led to the high feeling between them.

They would certainly have talked it out the next day if Jillian hadn’t been staying with her parents.

And she had only done that because she was not feeling her best. Strange that Ellena hadn’t even looked in on her.

They had never behaved so badly to each other before.

Here, though, as if handed on a platter, was a chance to make things right. So, Jillian kept walking, closing the gap between herself and the best friend she had already begun to miss terribly.

At the sound of Jillian’s boots crunching on the pebbly path, Ellena looked up. Uncertainty flashed across her features.

Jillian posted a brave smile upon her face to reassure her friend that she came in peace, but her own insecurity caused it to falter and fade.

“Lovely day for a walk,” Jillian said, cursing herself that their close bond should now need the crutch of such platitudes.

“I see you are well enough to enjoy one,” answered Ellena.

Was that reproach in her tone? Would she have preferred if Jillian were bedridden?

“You would have known how well I was if you had come to see me,” she found herself saying. No, Jillian! Don’t be petty! You want to mend the rift, not widen it.

But Ellena had already matched her lessened grace. “Seems to me you weren’t so ill after all. Wallace, whom you appear to have abandoned along with the rest of us, has seen you out and about every afternoon. Sneaking off to see Mr. Boyd, were you?”

“Ellie! That is a terrible thing to say!” Jillian never thought she would hear such an accusation from the mouth of her best friend. How could she even think such a thing? It wasn’t like her at all.

“Well, what am I to think when you banish yourself from my parents’ home, say you are too ill to be tended to by anyone but your mother, and then hasten off across the field in the afternoons?”

“Anything but that! Think me infantile for threatening to abandon you, sulky that my friend should scold me so soundly for wanting the company of my humbler friends, foolish for wanting to hide away with my own family when I am a grown woman. But to accuse me of mischief behind Lewis’s back!

” She suppressed a moment of guilt. She had enjoyed Simon Boyd’s company.

Very much. He had made her feel whole again.

But he had never been intended to replace Lewis.

If anything, those hours together had been reminders of how Lewis had once been.

And she would have that Lewis back in a heartbeat.

“But why lie, Jilly? Why pretend to be ill? We have never had dishonesty between us.”

“I wasn’t lying.” Jillian’s hand automatically reached for her belly.

“I had no intention of staying with my parents. Not really. But when I went to ask my mother to accompany me to the roof-wetting, I felt very nauseous, indeed. I even had to lie down to rest while she made me ginger tea. Mother thought… and since these four days have passed, I am certain she is right…” Jillian looked shyly at her belly.

Ellena’s eyes widened. Her mouth fell open. Then, like the sun breaking through clouds, a smile lit up her entire face and she threw her arms around her best friend. “A baby? You’re going to have a baby! Oh, that is the Best. News. Ever!”

The two women hugged and laughed and completely dissolved four days of petty disagreement that should never have happened in the first place.

“I’m so sorry I said what I did about Mr. Boyd.” Ellena had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I can’t believe I let my father override my judgment.”

“I should have known such a thought would not originate with you,” answered Jilly. “The irony is, I didn’t even go to the dance. I was feeling too wretched to be bouncing and twirling in a crowded area. It would not have been seemly to be sick on poor Mr. Boyd’s shoes.” She grinned.

But Ellena did not join in the mirth of the comment.

Her hand lifted swiftly to cover her mouth.

“Oh, Jilly, I just remembered. Father sent a letter to Lord Bradford. He had taken such umbrage at you shifting to your parents’ cottage, he quite considered it the last of a string of offenses of which he considered you guilty.

He did not know you never went to the dance.

Nor did he believe you truly ill. I’m afraid the letter would have been filled with unintentional falsehood and a good dose of Father’s heavy-handedness.

It will create a terrible impression on your father-in-law. I’m so sorry!”

Jillian considered the matter for a minute.

Then she reached down and scooped up Christopher onto her hip.

“Lord Bradford thinks little enough of me as it is. I can hardly sink further in his estimation. But today, we have sunshine. And the company of a sweet little cherub. Our friendship is restored.” She nestled her nose against Christopher’s soft neck.

He giggled and grabbed a fistful of her hair.

“I will write Lewis that he is to become a father,” she said as she carefully unwound the strands from Christopher’s fat, little fingers.

“I will explain my side of the story, for his lordship will be sure to have burdened Lewis with the contents of the letter.” Jilly kissed the boy’s cheek and set him back down again.

“Whether Lewis will need to have anything explained will depend upon his faith in me. At least I can add some good news to the bad.”

“I shall write in support of you,” Ellena added firmly. “Lewis knows I would never lie to him. If our correspondence is in step with each other’s, he will know it is my father’s viewpoint that is skewed.”

With their plan thus forged, Jillian and Ellena set aside the serious business of letters and interfering fathers. They picked more flowers, plaiting chains, which they wore while walking back home arm-in-arm, chatting about the joys and challenges of motherhood.

As they neared the line of cottages, Jack came running down the path toward them. He seemed to be in a great hurry yet stopped abruptly when he reached them.

“Jilly, Lewis has come! He waits for you at the kitchen table. Mum is making him a plate of bread and butter. He looks worn out, like he hasn’t slept at all.

He thought you’d be in bed, ill. But when I told him you were out walking, that did not seem to make him happy.

You’d better come and explain things to him.

He looks about ready to fall into a bed himself. ”

Jilly looked hesitantly at Ellena. “So, not a letter, after all.”

“It’s better this way,” answered her friend with a gentle smile. “You can see his face when you give him the news.”

“I don’t know.” Jillian was no longer so sure of herself. “If he has come, it is because of what your father has written. Perhaps he has believed it all.”

Ellena took a firm hold of Jillian’s arm. “I will come with you. We will put all suspicions to rest. Be strong. Lewis will not want to doubt you. Let us release him at once from all fears.”

With Christopher and his nurse in tow, Jillian and Ellena walked the rest of the distance to her family’s home. They did so in relative silence, with only the innocent babble of Christopher ringing in the air.

It was enough to draw Lewis from the house.

He appeared in the doorway, gray-cheeked and exhausted, a worry-line folding into his brow.

He stared at the approaching party, wrapped as it was in an atmosphere of tranquil togetherness.

The worry-line dissolved, but the fatigue caused him to stumble as he stepped toward them.

At once, Jilly was three strides in front of Ellena and gaining speed. She pushed herself into her husband’s embrace, both holding him up and held by him.

“Hullo, Wild Thing,” he murmured into her hair. “We need to talk.”