“Our steadfast eldest son. No matter how lovable your younger sibling may be, they could never hold the same significance as you.”

Mrs. Starr kissed the child’s cheek repeatedly. Harry stretched his short arms as far as they would allow, embracing his mother tightly. Beside them, Pastor Starr patted his wife’s back while simultaneously ruffling the hair of his proud eldest son. It was a touch filled with love.

Laura silently observed the heartwarming scene created by the Starr family. They seemed like three links in a tightly forged chain.

Her heart warmed at the sight, but at the same time, she couldn’t ignore the melancholy whisper stirring in a corner of her chest.

“They’re different from us, just a husband and wife. They seem more responsible, more tightly knit. The presence of a child seems to bind a family together. If we never have a child, we’ll never become a family like that.”

The mere thought pained her. She didn’t mind for herself, but if she couldn’t give her husband such a family, she felt unworthy of his love.

At that moment, Ian, who had been sitting quietly, tilted his head and whispered into his wife’s ear.

“Laura, can I kiss you?”

Laura’s jaw dropped as she stared at him.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“They’re too busy hugging each other to notice us.”

“No way.”

“Just once on the cheek.”

“Absolutely not.”

At Laura’s cold response, Ian pouted. Soon, he began playfully poking her knee with his finger.

“Well then, shall we get up early? Or maybe say we’re stepping out to the backyard for a bit…”

Laura pinched his thigh with all her strength. He didn’t bother her again until teatime was over. It must have hurt quite a bit.

Once the situation settled, the husband and wife each spent time with closer companions. The pastor and Ian took Harry for a walk, while Laura followed Mrs. Starr to visit the nursery.

After her second child, Mrs. Starr had redecorated the nursery. She adorned the walls with warm-colored wallpaper, hung watercolor paintings of rural landscapes and an oil painting of Jesus tending sheep, placed a lovely crib and rocking chair, and filled a box with cushions and stuffed dolls she had made.

Mrs. Starr fiddled with a pile of stuffed dolls in one corner as she confided.

“I’m more excited than I was with Harry. With the first, I knew nothing. Before giving birth, I was just scared, and afterward, I was overwhelmed. I feel like I can do better with the second. I know how to raise a child now.”

“You’ll do wonderfully. You’re healthy, and you have a splendid husband. The baby will be born by this summer, won’t it?”

“Dr. Mackenzie says so. I hope it comes a bit earlier. Being heavily pregnant in midsummer would be torture.”

Laura gently stroked Mrs. Starr’s round belly.

“Little one, you need to come out quickly so you don’t trouble your mother.”

Mrs. Starr chuckled.

“Yes, little one. Mrs. Dalton is so kind to you, so you mustn’t make things hard for Mama, alright?”

As if the baby had heard them, the skin of her belly twitched, and Laura felt a movement under her hand.

“Oh my, the baby kicked!”

Laura was astonished. It was her first time feeling a baby’s movement so directly.

“The baby likes Mrs. Dalton. Don’t you, little one? Mama likes her too.”

The two women laughed heartily.

Laura found it hard to pull her hand away from the belly. Feeling an unborn child, even someone else’s, was a remarkable experience.

She stroked Mrs. Starr’s belly a bit longer before letting go. But when she looked up, Mrs. Starr was gazing at her with a peculiar expression.

“Mrs. Dalton, is something troubling you?”

Laura was startled, feeling as though her innermost thoughts had been exposed.

“What…?”

“Your face looked so dark while you were touching my belly…”

Laura turned her head away.

“There’s nothing like that. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

To change the subject, she walked toward the window, intending to talk about the weather. But Mrs. Starr, supporting her waist and waddling after her, grabbed Laura’s hand firmly before she could speak.

“Tell me, Mrs. Dalton.”

“It’s really nothing…”

“Mrs. Dalton, I know I’m far too humble to be your confidante. You were born to a noble mother and a great artist father, while I’m just a merchant’s daughter and a country pastor’s wife. But I truly admire you. Even if we can’t be friends, I want to do something helpful.”

“What are you saying? You’re already a dear friend to me. If I dared to think so arrogantly of someone who helps her husband uphold the faith of an entire parish, heaven would never forgive me.”

“Then tell me. What’s troubling you?”

Laura gazed into Mrs. Starr’s innocent sky-blue eyes. A pure, kind soul. Warm affection spread through her heart. The woman before her, Olivia Starr, was someone deeply meaningful to Laura.

When news of Laura and Ian’s marriage spread a year ago, Whitefield was thrown into shock.

A mere impoverished governess from a fallen noble family, and a bastard child at that, marrying Lord Ian Dalton of Whitefield? It was unthinkable!

Some worried that Yorkshire’s most respected family would suffer terrible disgrace, while others were certain the lord had fallen into some scheme.

The one who changed the village’s chaotic atmosphere was none other than Mrs. Starr.

Just before the wedding, Miss Olivia Fairfax visited the parsonage to meet Mrs. Starr, determined to set the record straight about her future aunt-in-law.

Olivia held Mrs. Starr’s attention for over three hours, recounting Laura’s past. She explained that only fate’s cruel jest had branded Laura a bastard, detailed the humiliations Laura endured under that stigma, and shared how, despite loving her uncle, Laura had repeatedly refused his proposals because of those wounds.

Both the speaker, Miss Fairfax, and the listener, Mrs. Starr, soaked through more than four handkerchiefs with their tears.

Until that moment, Mrs. Starr, like the other villagers, had been uneasy about Mr. Dalton’s marriage. But Olivia’s visit completely won her over to Laura’s side. She resolved to protect Laura’s reputation and restore the respect she rightfully deserved.

The parsonage was the village’s social hub. Women visited so often the threshold wore thin, sharing news, discussing farming and child-rearing, and planning charity work. At the center of these gatherings was, naturally, Mrs. Starr.

Whenever guests came, Mrs. Starr subtly brought up Laura’s story. Together with Olivia, she crafted The Saga of Laura Pendleton, a tale of a beautiful, virtuous woman who had endured lifelong hardships, rivaling Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the d’Urbervilles or Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre in its ability to move listeners to tears and win them to Laura’s side.

They began to recall how beautiful and humble Laura Pendleton had been when they met her at the parsonage, and they came to see her marriage to a fine husband as the happy ending a good person deserved.

Laura only learned of this later and felt immense gratitude toward Mrs. Starr. She had expected years of judgmental glances from the villagers after her marriage.

Yet, after their honeymoon, when visiting farmers or meeting villagers on the street, they bowed naturally to Laura, their gazes warm and even affectionate.

Mrs. Starr was a kind soul who had helped Laura settle comfortably in Whitefield.

Perhaps that was why, at the nursery window, Mrs. Starr’s gentle urging to share her worries easily unlocked Laura’s heart.

She poured out the concerns she had never shared with anyone. Why couldn’t she have a child? Was it because she was frail or too old? What would become of the Dalton family’s future? Was she robbing her beloved husband of the happiness he deserved?

Tears welled in Laura’s eyes as she spoke. Mrs. Starr took a handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped Laura’s face.

“I understand your heart. I was engaged for nine years, so I had my first child late too. But you must be under even greater pressure. The Dalton family is one of England’s most storied. Yet, you look far healthier now than when you were a governess. Haven’t you had to remake your clothes because you’ve gained weight?”

“Yes. The clothes I wore as a governess don’t fit anymore.”

“That’s proof of a happy marriage. When a woman gains weight and finds peace of mind, a child often comes naturally. You’ve lived through so much hardship. As you grow healthier, a child will come in time.”

“Will it?”

Mrs. Starr nodded.

“If you can’t shake your worries, see Dr. Mackenzie for a check-up. He studied in France and has practiced here for over thirty years. He’s Yorkshire’s top authority on obstetrics.”

Mrs. Starr carefully wrote down directions to Dr. Mackenzie’s house, a cottage on a hillside at the eastern edge of the village, far from the farms.

“He’ll surely ease your concerns.”

Around three in the afternoon, the Daltons boarded their carriage with the Starr family’s farewells. The carriage slowly left the parsonage.

Laura felt far better than she had before the visit. A consultation with the doctor would give her a reliable diagnosis of her condition.

Even if the diagnosis isn’t good, I won’t have to struggle alone. Perhaps with treatment, I could have a child.

Looking out the window, Laura smiled peacefully.

“You look happy. What are you thinking?”

Her husband, sitting beside her, gently put his arm around her shoulder and asked.

“…”

Laura wasn’t ready to share her concerns about pregnancy with him yet. She knew he’d worry if he learned of her troubles.