She hurriedly opened the window and leaned out, retching.

“My lady!”

Hannah rushed over and patted her back. Despite Hannah’s strong arms pounding firmly, there was little to come up since she had eaten so little—just a bit of stomach acid.

Laura, feeling dizzy, straightened herself back inside. But as her face drew closer to the room, the smell of food hit her, and reflexively, she began to retch again.

Clutching the window frame, Laura pleaded with Hannah.

“The food… clear all the food away…”

Hannah quickly moved the dishes from the table to a tray and carried them out of the room. Returning promptly, she opened the windows to ventilate. The breeze caused the firewood to die out and the picture frames to rattle, but it made airing out the room easier.

Hannah sniffed around the room to check for lingering food smells. Once satisfied that the odors were gone, she closed all the windows and lifted her lady, who was slumped beneath the window, carrying her to the bed.

Laura murmured weakly.

“Thank you, Hannah.”

“It’s nothing, my lady.”

Hannah hurriedly rekindled the extinguished fireplace and brought a water jug to help Laura rinse her mouth.

Laura, struggling to steady herself, smiled.

“I must be unwell. Perhaps it’s the autumn blues. Either way, I can’t eat. Send the food downstairs.”

Hannah gazed at her quietly.

“What is it, Hannah?”

“My lady.”

Hannah sighed softly and clasped her hands behind her back.

“I wish you’d eat something.”

“It’s better to go hungry than force it down and get sick.”

“But what about the child in your womb if you starve?”

Laura looked up at Hannah with a blank expression.

“My lady, I think you’re pregnant.”

“…”

“Recently, while helping you change, I’ve noticed clear changes in your body. Everything else remains the same, but your chest and lower abdomen have been gradually swelling. I kept quiet since physical signs alone weren’t enough to be certain, but now with the morning sickness, it seems clear.”

“Ha, but…”

Laura’s lips trembled. Pregnant? Amidst recent chaos, she hadn’t even considered the possibility.

“I had my period last month. It’s been less than four weeks since it ended, and you’re saying there are noticeable changes and morning sickness already?”

“Was your last period exactly on schedule? When did it end?”

“…It was a bit late… and it ended in just a day.”

“Some women experience bleeding during pregnancy. It’s not a sign of miscarriage and is common even in healthy women.”

‘No. It can’t be.’

She couldn’t easily believe it. She had once held hope only to be crushed by disappointment. What if she went through that again? The despair of cold reality mocking her hopeful heart, that crushing sense of defeat.

‘But.’

Even in her fear, she didn’t lose her judgment. A clever girl like Hannah wouldn’t risk her position with baseless claims, and considering her previous workplace, her judgment on pregnancy was second only to Doctor McKenzie’s expertise.

‘Maybe, this time, it’s just real.’

Laura’s gaze wavered intensely. Pregnant. Had life taken root in her body without her realizing it?

Laura swallowed hard.

“Bring some salad and bread.”

Hannah returned with two plates. The smell of flour was nauseating. The sour scent of the salad dressing irritated her stomach.

Still, Laura chewed slowly and managed to finish the meal.

Hannah tidied the bed and left with the dishes. Laura was alone again.

She reflected on the past month. Looking back, the evidence was so clear she wondered how she’d missed it. As she’d told Hannah, last month’s cycle, which had disappointed her such despair, had been light—just a mere hint of blood on her undergarments—and ended painlessly. Recently, food smells had become repulsive, and she’d been sleeping more in the mornings.

Moreover, dresses that once wore comfortably now felt tight around the chest. Her waist had also grown slightly constricting, requiring her to rely a bit more on corsets to dress comfortably.

‘Really real. Truly, there’s a child growing inside me.’

Laura caressed her lower abdomen. She could feel a slight bulge where her abdomen had once been flat.

Tears streamed down her face. Unlike the tears shed by the fireplace before, these were tears of joy.

‘My baby. His baby. Our child.’

Laura stifled her sobs. It felt as though all the joy of the world had gathered into her soul.

‘Now I can be a mother too.’

Giving birth, raising a child, hearing “Mama,” and letting her beloved husband hear “Papa.” She could do it now. She could do it all. Her deepest wish had come true.

The sorrow cast by her marital discord faded momentarily. Strength seemed to surge through her weary limbs.

First, she’d visit Doctor McKenzie tomorrow to confirm the diagnosis. If it was certain, she’d tell him when he returned from Leeds. That they’d become parents in a year’s time.

‘But there’s something I must do first first.’‘I

Laura thought, stroking her abdomen.

‘I’ll apologize to him. I’ll admit my foolish mistake of breaking our trust out of petty fears. I’ll vow to always be a truthful wife. When he forgives me, then I’ll share the news of the pregnancy.’

Laura knew. Simply announcing the pregnancy would soften his anger. But she didn’t want to use it as a shield to gloss over her wrongs. There should be no lingering resentment between them.

For they were meant to dance through a lifetime together and into eternity in heaven.

Laura lay down calmly in bed, gazing at the high canopy ceiling, and whispered to her husband.

“Come soon, Ian. Come and see what gift I’ve prepared.”

November 8th, Five P.M.

A steam locomotive puffing white smoke arrived at the Whitfield train station. Dozens of passengers disembarked, carrying briefcases, luggage bags, and gift boxes.

Among the crowd, a gentleman stepped off the train with a small trunk. Dressed in a black suit with a gray tie and a chestnut frock coat, his clean-shaven, clear complexion shone beautifully beneath a brimmed black hat.

He scanned his surroundings and whistled sharply toward the platform.

Hearing the whistle, a man approached with steady steps. A middle-aged man with a flat cap covering white hair and a stylishly trimmed mustache.

“Safe travels, Mr. Dalton?”

“Nothing eventful.”

The man naturally took the trunk. They walked slowly out of the station.

“Any news at home, Dan?”

“None, sir.”

“And how’s Mrs. Dalton doing?”

“Very well, sir.”

He nodded slightly.

Coachman Dan brought the carriage he’d left at the hired coach stand. Ian stepped on the footboard Dan lowered and settled into the carriage.

Soon, the carriage began to roll away from the station.

Seated in the carriage, Ian crossed his legs and gazed out the window. Familiar Yorkshire mountains, cedar forests, and long rivers flashed by.

Returning to Yorkshire after a trip always warmed Ian’s heart. He loved his homeland more than anywhere else, so it was only natural. Yet, his face seemed oddly tense, almost displeased at a glance.

He propped his elbow on the window frame, resting his chin. As he’d done often during his travels, he stroked the watch hanging from his waistcoat.

‘Laura.’

He bit his lip with a anguished look.

Their last parting had been their worst. The circumstances had left no room for otherwise.

By chance, he’d met with Doctor McKenzie and learned that Laura was suffering heartache over fertility struggles. He rushed home and headed straight to to the bedroom where Laura might be. But as he was about to knock, he heard Laura’s voice, pleading. Then, Henry’s trembling, tearful voice followed.

Ian listened intently, holding his breath.

He realized something. His nephew, whom he’d doted on for over twenty years, harbored feelings for his wife.

In that moment, Ian felt his skull shatter and his mind explode.

With a composure uncharacteristic of his state, he went to the dressing room and retrieved a stored pistol. Loading it, he returned to the bedroom.

His memories blurred after that. When he came to, his hands were bloodied, and Henry lay limp before him.

He had no regrets. Ian and Henry shared a special bond, but that bond held only so long as Henry respected the sanctity of his uncle and his wife’s honor.

Henry surely knew. What Laura meant to him. The only person he’d trade his life for.

To see Laura as a woman and desire her was the ultimate betrayal—not only to him but also to Laura, who had been a kind aunt to him.

But his fists weren’t fueled by anger toward Henry alone. Betrayal toward Laura amplified the force of his violence.

Laura’s demeanor toward Henry had been icy, but it was evident this wasn’t the first time. She’d kept Henry’s feelings hidden from him, her husband.

‘Laura deceived me. She didn’t trust me, her husband. She denied me the chance to protect her.’

On their wedding day, as he walked down the aisle, Ian had vowed silently to himself. To be her shield, her sanctuary. To prioritize her happiness and safety above his own life. It was her calling as her husband. The mission he’d embraced for her.