Chapter 22
Soaking in the deliciously rose scented water and frothy bubbles up to her neck, Alexandra sighed. The remains of a scrumptious meal sat on the table by the vanity. Never had hot rolls dripping with cinnamon and butter or sweet cherries smothered in a liqueur tasted so wonderful. The eggs had been poached perfectly with a creamy béarnaise sauce, the sausages browned to perfection, and the tea steaming hot. She ate well, unused to such fine fare.
Nicholas had truly missed her, had gone nearly crazy hunting her, and that thought made her feel treasured. Her gaze roved over the stately room, taking in the blue, gold and pink rose themed wallpaper, the damask royal blue silken draperies, and the ornate rosewood furnishings.
Persian rugs in the same hues as the walls adorned the floors, and six matching embroidered pillows were strewn across a love seat that overlooked a side garden. It was a lovely room, and her mind whirled with enlightened and joyful emotions that tumbled chaotically over and around one another.
The thugs who had attempted to throw her off the cliffs. She dropped her sponge and pulled her knees up tight, willing the shaking to go away. She was safe now. Nicholas would protect her.
A knock at the door broke her out of her reverie. Rachel sailed into the room, followed by a maid with a stack of gowns in her arms. “I’m guessing we are about the same size. I’ve chosen gowns from my wardrobe until your gowns are made.” She asked the maid to hang the dresses in a massive armoire.
Rachel plucked a blue linen gown from the pile and held it up in front of her. “I think the coloring of this would look lovely on you. Scandalous, but a new style started by Queen Marie Antoinette. The chemise a’ la’ reine is incredibly light and simple, consisting of layers of blue, thin muslin with a low-laced bodice, belted at the waist and no panniers. Comfortable for when I’m working in the laboratory with Anthony, but scandalous.”
Alexandra smiled. What would Rachel think of her attire on the island where she gallivanted in nothing but her chemise and no undergarments?
“When we arrive at Belvior, I want to show you the bathtub I invented.”
“Invented? How does it work?” The woman was a wonder.
“Nicholas’s father was very generous in allowing me to tinker with my project. Water is heated and stored in a cistern behind the fireplace in the kitchen, and then pumped by pumps I had installed to a second-floor chamber. The apparatus cuts down on the need to haul buckets of water up and down the stairs.”
“You are a fascinating woman, Rachel. I can’t wait to see your bathing chamber.”
Rachel held up a towel. “No more than you, Alexandra. To survive what you did…why, you are extraordinary. You must dry off. The dressmakers are downstairs and ready to measure you.”
Alexandra stood abruptly, sloshing water over the floor. “So soon?”
“The Rutland men work quickly and demand service in a fastidious manner. There is the matter of having a dress ready for the opera this evening.”
Alexandra wrapped the towel around her. “Opera! I’ve always wanted to attend an opera.”
“That is what Nicholas said. I told him to wait, that you needed your rest from your travels. He has ordered carte blanche on your new wardrobe and we must not disappoint.”
Like a swarm of locusts, a team of seamstresses flooded into the room. Inspecting Alexandra, the head dressmaker made clucking sounds with her tongue, inserting a “oui” intermittently to demonstrate her approval. Alexandra stood on a stool while a rich array of silks, satins and brocades were ushered forward for her perusal.
Overemphasizing her French accent, the dressmaker postured. Not because she was French but because it was deemed fashionable and no doubt more profitable. “I will make magnificent clothing. Your figure and coloring are glorious.” She clapped her hands and a seamstress handed her a tape measure.
The pin-sticking dressmaker draped fabric over her, measuring and re-measuring. Laces, bombazines, undergarments, silk stockings, were flashed before her and decided upon, everything to outfit a queen. The dressmaker fussed and her seamstresses nodded in agreement. Alexandra started to protest the expense but Rachel shook her head.
Rachel sampled a pastry from a tea tray a maid had brought in. “I can’t resist anything but temptation, including cream puffs.” She licked the cream from her lips. “Most importantly, I am tempted to share proud news…my husband, Lord Anthony has been invited to be a member to the Royal Society of Science for a discovery he made.”
Alexandra’s eyes widened. Nicholas had informed her that his brother had a scientific passion and the Royal Society of Science was greatly esteemed. “What did he discover?”
“He has developed a battery that retains electricity longer than normal.”
“I would love to see his device.”
“I’m sure he’d love to show you for the sole reason he’d use any excuse to be back in his laboratory. Only the fact that his brother was alive and returning on a ship were we able to tear him away. I enjoy the entertainments London has to offer so it is going to be a splendid time showing you around.”
Hours passed. A sudden wave of vertigo befell her and she had to step down. Her stomach flip-flopped. The illness she contracted on the ship was making an untimely entrance. “I need some time to myself.”
She begged Rachel with her eyes. Now.
Rachel sprang from her chair and clapped her hands. “Everyone out. Lady Sutherland needs her rest. You have enough measurements to go on.”
The dressmaker raised an eyebrow, picked up the bolts of materials and accoutrements and huffed out, her seamstresses following in her wake.
Alexandra sagged against the mahogany bedpost as she struggled not to retch. Pressing her handkerchief to her lips, she closed her eyes and willed her unruly stomach not to rebel. Her head pounded. Never had she felt this miserable in her life.
Her eyes snapped open in distress. Rachel had miraculously produced a commode and Alexandra wrapped her arms around her abdomen and leaned forward to retch.
A few tears were squeezed from her tightly shut eyes as she bowed and retched again. The muscles in her abdomen continued to spasm until her stomach felt like a fist. A few minutes later, she straightened and flopped on the bed.
Rachel pulled a gold brocade comforter over her. “Does Nicholas know he is to be a father?”
Alexandra tightened her fingers on the bedding. Never. The doctor told her she could never have a baby. Could she? Her breasts were fuller and ached. She’d been so terribly ill over the last weeks, but it usually went away by the end of midmorning. She had been a bundle of nerves, blaming her emotional state leaving Nicholas.
“Your assumption is ridiculous, Lady Rutland.”
“Really? My mother was the same way with my younger brother, Thomas. I have been around enough women who have suffered the same characteristic symptoms.”
“Whatever do you mean? I can’t get pregnant. I fell from a tree when I was a child. The doctor told me so.”
“Rubbish. An illogical notion. I’m expecting, so I know the signs firsthand. My doctor comes this afternoon. I’ll let him slip in and examine you.”
Alexandra clasped her hands under her chin. Her greatest sorrow was her barrenness, and Rachel had pulled her from a box of darkness into light. The miraculous possibility of having a child radiated through her chest and arms and legs. And not just any child, Nicholas’s child.
Her hands splayed across her abdomen. To hold her baby in her arms? It was the beginning of all things, of wonder, of hope, a dream of possibilities.
“Rachel, do you think it is possible that I could be a mother?”
Rachel slanted her head. “I assume you were not working at survival with all that time spent on the island.”
Alexandra wanted to die of mortification.
Rachel smiled. “For now, we’ll keep it a secret until it is confirmed.”