On an April day, the Dalton couple rode a two-seater carriage back to their mansion. The servants, lined up in front of the mansion, marveled inwardly at the sight of their mistress cautiously stepping down from the carriage, her belly noticeably larger than when she had left. They were astonished, thinking how much the second Dalton had grown over the winter.

Among the maids stood Hannah, her eyes reflecting both surprise and curiosity. The size of the mistress’s belly, not even eight months along, appeared larger than full-term. However, she kept her lips sealed. Having nearly been sacked once for gossiping about the mistress’s pregnancy, she knew to be cautious.

The mistress remained as diligent and organized as ever. She ordered a spring cleaning, used up the dried provisions stored over the winter, and, in her spare time, refurbished the nursery, which had been closed since young Master Dalton had gotten his own room.

As a first-time mother, Laura listened closely to Hannah’s advice. With Hannah’s help, Laura ordered essentials for the baby and learned practical skills like how to hold a child and breastfeed.

Laura found each day joyful. Whitefield Hall, though not as cozy as their cottage, was a grand and beautiful space—a residential work of art that filled its owner with boundless pride. The children born here would grow into adults with an aesthetic sense as refined as Ian’s.

Laura busily managed the mansion, ordering baby supplies to fill the nursery, eagerly anticipating the day she would welcome her children. About two weeks after their return, the mansion, under the mistress’s touch, was spotless, not a speck of dust to be found.

Despite being buried in work, Ian often visited the newly decorated nursery—or rather, he came to see his wife, who practically lived there.

“Darling, what do you think?” Laura asked, sitting in a small rocking chair in the nursery, holding a doll of a little girl brought from the cottage.

Ian, dressed in a dark green suit with a vest, leaned against the nursery doorway, surveying the room. Ivory wallpaper with lily patterns, a white canopy, a colorful mobile, and a small, sturdy crib.

“It’s cozier than when I spent my childhood here,” he said.

“Really?” Laura replied.

Ian cast a gentle glance at his delighted wife.

“You’ve put in a lot of effort. Aren’t you tired?”

“Not at all,” she assured him.

“You’re keeping your promise not to overdo it, right?”

Laura nodded. Ian gave a faint smile and approached her.

“Good girl, my Laura.”

He kissed her forehead. His lips traveled down like rainwater, grazing her brow, nose, and nostrils. The tenderness in his lowered gaze was something only Laura could know.

His lips paused at hers. He lightly teased them with a lick.

Moments later, he pulled back and caressed her flushed face.

“The attorney is here for a meeting,” he said.

“Shouldn’t you go see him?” Laura asked, concerned, thinking of the elderly lawyer who had long served Ian.

“That man always leaves half a day’s worth of documents to review. Before I’m locked away in that dull study, I had to see your face.”

“Life at the cottage was paradise, wasn’t it?” Laura teased.

Ian chuckled softly. “It was.”

Laura gently traced the back of his hand with her fingertips.

“I’ll have your favorite dishes prepared for dinner. Work hard and come back, darling.”

His eyes softened, curving with his lips. “See you tonight, my love.”

Ian kissed her forehead one last time before heading toward the door.

“Ian,” Laura called.

He turned. “Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to say hello to the baby?”

“Oh,” Ian said, returning to kneel beside her.

“Having fun in there, Jane? Or perhaps, Louis?” He lightly patted her belly a few times before leaving the nursery.

Laura was left alone in the nursery, clutching the doll tightly.

Why is he acting like this?

Lately, Ian seemed different. His affection toward her remained unchanged, but his interest in the baby felt oddly absent.

At the cottage, he would touch her belly at every opportunity, greeting the baby each morning, placing his hand on her stomach to feel kicks, and reading stories to the children inside. Now, he rarely spoke to the baby unless Laura prompted him, and he hardly touched her belly.

Is he tired from work?

It was understandable. Without a secretary, he had to read and respond to hundreds of letters from businesses across the country and handle various legal disputes.

Laura grew somber. Those tasks were beyond her ability to help with.

She leaned back in the rocking chair, which creaked as it swayed gently.

Since returning from the cottage, I’ve put his concerns aside. My body’s getting heavier, and there’s a mountain of work. But the most important role of Mrs. Dalton is being a good wife to Ian Dalton.

Laura let out a soft sigh.

I need to take better care of Ian. Tie his tie every day, pay more attention to the menu, tell him I love him more often. That’s all I can do.

A knock came at the door.

“Madam, may I come in?” It was Hannah’s voice.

When Laura responded, Hannah entered the nursery carrying a box.

“A gift arrived. Baby supplies.”

“Oh, from whom?” Laura asked.

Hannah read the sender’s name. “Mrs. Ann McGill.”

Laura let out a small laugh. Her friend, once known as Ann Steel.

Two springs ago, Ann Steel married Oswald McGill, a lawyer, and settled in London. Having married around the same time, the two women, living far apart in London and Yorkshire, maintained their friendship through letters.

As Ian had once mentioned when they began associating with the Starr couple, distance greatly affected friendship. Growing physically apart often meant growing emotionally distant, not just in romantic relationships.

But to Laura, Ann remained as close as a neighbor. Just as even a happy newlywed couldn’t forget her family, Laura cherished Ann, who had been her ally during tough times.

The box from Mrs. McGill bore the Harrods department store logo. Inside, a small silver rattle gleamed brightly—an obviously expensive item.

Laura was surprised. Oswald McGill was a renowned lawyer in London, but he came from humble beginnings, starting married life with modest savings. Ann must have gone to great lengths to buy this gift.

There was a letter inside the box. Laura opened it.

My dearest Laura,

Hello, Miss Laura. Oh, Master Dalton said he doesn’t like me calling you that, didn’t he? He doesn’t like his wife being addressed by her maiden title. But I still prefer calling you Miss Laura. So, don’t let this letter fall into his hands!

By the way, are you well-prepared to welcome your little angel? My heart isn’t pounding as much as when I first heard of your pregnancy, but it’s still quite excited. In no more than three months, the second Dalton, inheriting your blood, will be born. Oh, what a perfect baby Miss Laura’s child will be! Whether a prince or a princess, they’ll be an irresistibly adorable darling!

And that darling will live in the most splendid place in the world. Whitefield, which I visited on your wedding day, was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. I’m always proud that you’ve made your home there. Even in London, you loved Hyde Park more than Harrods, didn’t you?

You’ll invite me to the baby’s christening, won’t you? I’m counting the days until the invitation arrives.

With love to you and the baby in your womb,

Mrs. Ann McGill

P.S. My dear Oswald won a corporate lawsuit and earned a hefty fee, so please accept the rattle without worry, sweet Miss Laura.

Laura carefully folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope.

“Hannah, do you have a handkerchief?”

Hannah pulled a clean, plain handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to her. Laura dabbed at her teary eyes.

“It seems you and Mrs. McGill are very close. You cry every time you read her letters,” Hannah remarked.

“Mrs. McGill is as steadfast an ally as my husband,” Laura replied.

Hannah repacked the gift and stored it in a cabinet set up in the nursery. The cabinet was filled with similar gift boxes from friends across England—Mr. and Mrs. William Fairfax, Mr. and Mrs. Morton, Judge and Mrs. McLean, and others.

After organizing the gifts, Hannah ran her hand over various parts of the nursery. Though Annie, the maid responsible for this area, cleaned every morning, Hannah considered her careless.

“Hannah,” Laura called.

Hannah, frowning at the faint dust on the windowsill and about to fetch a dry cloth, turned politely toward Laura, hands clasped.

“Yes, Madam?”

“When the baby is born, will you take charge of the nursery?”

Hannah blinked. “Me, Madam?”

“Yes. No one would care for the child as well as you.”

Hannah hesitated. She had left her last job because she was tired of being a nanny, and now she’d have to do the same at this new mansion.

Laura smiled gently. “Of course, your salary will increase. I’m planning to double it. What do you think?”

Double her current salary. Hannah gave a slight curtsy.

“Leave it to me, Madam.”

“Thank you, Hannah.”

Hannah, trying to hide her rising smile, began diligently wiping down the nursery. Laura smiled languidly. With the diligent and experienced Hannah overseeing the nursery, she could raise her child without worry.

“Um, Madam…” Hannah said, approaching Laura, who was practicing how to hold a baby as Hannah had taught her.

“Now that I’m officially hired as a nanny, I feel I should mention something. I think you should purchase another crib.”

Laura blinked. “Why?”

Hannah glanced at Laura’s belly. “It seems you’re carrying more than one child.”