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Clara grinned.

“It’s beautiful!” Emily said.

Teddy and Oliver were both trying to open the book, but Clara managed to calm them. She opened the book and heard the satisfying creak of the spine. There were her drawings, and her own name was on the front. There was no hiding now, and no keeping her skills secret from wider society.

“It looks wonderful, doesn’t it?” Gerald said.

“How did you get this? It wasn’t supposed to be delivered until later in the week.”

Gerald grinned. “I couldn’t wait. I visited the printers myself and persuaded them to give me an early copy. This is the very first edition of your book, Clara. I think it will have a place of pride on our shelves, don’t you think so, children?”

They all cheered with delight and settled around Clara, eager to see the drawings.

Clara had seen her artwork on display before, but never like this. Her drawings had been captured perfectly, and there was something incredibly fulfilling about seeing her own name attached to each and every drawing. She had also annotated the illustrations with notes about why she chose to draw the selected flowers and what they meant to her.

After looking through the book, she closed it and ran her fingertips along the cover, letting them linger upon her name and title. A smile played upon her lips.

“I wish I could write a book,” Teddy said.

“Nobody would want to read your silly stories,” Emily said.

“Children,” Gerald growled, giving them the look that always prompted them to think twice about their attitude.

“You are already in a book, Teddy. You all are. Look,” Clara said, and opened the book again. She turned to the first page, in which an acknowledgment had been imprinted.

To my family, Gerald, Emily, Teddy, Oliver, Sophia, and Duke

The children were amazed at this. However, Oliver scrunched up his face in confusion.

“But what about Pea?” he asked.

Pea was the name the children had taken to calling Clara’s unborn child, because early on in the pregnancy when she’d been explaining it to them, she told them that it was as big as a pea. Since then it had grown, of course, but the name had stuck. Even Clara found herself referring to the baby as Pea whenever she spoke about it, and she spoke about it often.

“I suppose I shall have to revise that acknowledgment for future editions. I didn’t think to amend it after I sent it off to the publishers. I hope Pea won’t be too upset.” Clara rubbed her belly and felt the flutter of a kick. She pressed her lips tight against a wash of vertigo.

The children didn’t notice it, but Gerald did. He squeezed her hand and then ushered the children away, telling them to go and hide while he would find them.

This was one of their favorite games to play as Clemont Hall had so many nooks and crannies in which to hide, especially in the garden. The dangerous area of the abandoned Rose Garden had been completely renovated and was now a serene, relaxing area where Clara often read.

Gerald fetched her some water and kissed her forehead.

“Are you feeling well?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. Although we aren’t really going to call the baby Pea, are we?”

“You had better have words with Oliver about that,” Gerald grinned. He nodded to her, then decided he should go and seek the children. Clara held her book in her hands and felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

Then, the baby kicked.

“Be gentle with me, Pea,” she said.

“Were you this nervous?” Marquess Timothy Lyons said. Gerald smiled and shook his head.

“Not at all. I knew that Clara was the woman I was supposed to marry. I wasn’t scared at all. I hope that you’re not having any second thoughts,” he said.

Timothy’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently.

“No… not at all. I’m just… I’m worried that I’m not going to be enough for her, that I’m not going to make her happy enough. She deserves the world.”