"Expectations" (Book 2), by Gratiana Lovelace (2018-2019), (Completed)

"Expectations" (Book 2)-- Ch. 1: Their first country morning

Lady Madeline: "I do." I barely whisper my response. Even the movement of my mouth causes the waves of nausea to roil in my stomach and assail my senses. I should have lessened my response to a one syllable yes.

Lord Christian: "Well, you stay and rest. I will send your Ladies Maid Trask up to you as soon as may be with your tea." I kiss her forehead lingeringly-in the memory of our loving trysts last night. The pleasures that we find in each other's arms is both a joy and an all consuming passion. Never have I experienced such bliss, as her loving ardor matches my own. My Madeline's shy maiden innocence has given way to her unbridled desires, that stoke the furnace of my own desires for her.

And I wonder if our nightly marital lovings have taxed her strength and caused her morning illnesses. Yes, but not in the way that I think. And I reluctantly leave her as I go to attend to the estate's business matters-the quicker to return to her.

***

Some small amount of time later, Lord Christian's younger sister Lady Elizabeth Lizzie Blount scratches at the newlyweds' bridal bed chamber door this fine country morning. There is no response. So she puts her knuckles into it as she lightly raps upon the wooden door. Tap, tap, tap.

Lady Lizzie: "Maddie? It is Lizzie. I intercepted your ginger laced tea from your Ladies Maid Anne Trask. May I bring it in to you?"

Lady Madeline: "If you must." I reply raspily. My voice sounds weak, even to me. Oh, why cannot people leave a person alone in their misery. Let alone the fact that Trask is very much needed to tend to the results of my morning's usual sickness needing to be removed.

Lady Lizzie pokes her head into my bedchamber and smiles at me cheerily. The fact that she is my dearest friend and sister-in-law helps to mitigate her intrusion into my sick room. In truth, I am not fit company until well after mid morning on most days these past few weeks. And though the cause of my distress is welcome, the every day habitué of illness wears on a person, it wears on me.

Lady Lizzie rushes to my bedside with her copious layering of Summer thin taffeta skirting and petticoats rustling quite noisily. She sets down the cup of ginger tea and its saucer upon my bedside table. Then her seeing me still lying down-albeit upon my side facing away from her, where my porcelain emitus bowl sits tucked out of the way on my bed chamber floor-she gently touches my shoulder and guides me to lie back and then sit up so that I may partake of her offering of the inestimable brew.

I am at first stubborn in my refusal to adjust my position to drink the tea-because any movement causes turmoil in my stomach, with whatever remnants of last evening's meal that remains. But I know that I must do her bidding if I am to overcome this morning's illness.

Lady Lizzie: "Come now, Maddie. You will feel much better after you drink some of this ginger tea." Lady Lizzie says soothingly, cajolingly.

Lady Madeline: "Hmmm!" I whimper in my distress, but I sip the tea.

Lady Lizzie: "There now!" Lady Lizzie sighs at her accomplishment in getting Lady Maddie to drink her ginger tea. "And what unusual food combinations might cook tempt you with this morning?"

Lady Madeline: "Nothing! Please do not even mention food to me yet this morning." I piteously plead.

Though my Dear husband Lord Christian and I and had hoped to spend our mornings napping romantically whilst staying with his Grandmama at the Sussex Hall Estates Dower House, my morning illnesses necessitates shifting our lovings to the afternoons and evenings. So my husband is attending to estate matters at the moment, whilst I try to overcome this morning's illness.