Pregnant. 

The word continued to rattle around in Amelia's head for the last few weeks as she attempted to make sense of it all.  With child!  A little embryo was forming into the shape of a person and the incredible miracle of life was blooming inside her.  However, the miracle was eclipsed momentarily by a deep sense of fear and a paralyzing vulnerability that Amelia could not shake.  As pleased as she was by the prospect of procuring an heir for Eagleton Manor, Amelia was also petrified at the process.

Childbirth presented the risk of death at any moment.  Amelia had known several women in the village who had succumbed to death during or immediately post confinement.  Even Mrs. Moore had not been immune.  During her mother's rearing years, Amelia had witnessed both misery and felicity. The were the hours of continually toil waiting for the new life to cast itself from it's cozy womb into the world. One stillborn child has been born and brother who only lived for a matter of hours before his life ebbed away peacefully in Mrs. Moore's arms. Despite these sorrows, Amelia had also welcomed many other brothers and sisters, each time delighting in the joyous union of mother and infant.

Amelia longed to be comforted by that scene. With purpose, she revisited her memories from those moments reaching through the ephemeral visions to distill the emotions of her childhood. The immense and delightful peace that drifted in like angel's dust, pouring blessings and happiness into the lives of anyone lucky enough to witness a new life takings its first breath. Amelia imagined the scene with immense detail, trying to let the tranquility seep into her bones. However, her emotions seemed to be inverse functional. The harder Amelia toiled to remember the happier times, the more distant they became. Frustration expounded her discomfiture, and Amelia remained unsettled in her heart.

Contrarily, John had been so tremendously elated by Dr. Thurston's communiqué that he seemed to be floating on air. When her first hear the news, John would have immediately left the room an made a formal announcement to the guests at the ball had Amelia not adamantly protested.  The physician estimated that she was no more than a few weeks along. Uncertainty aside, Amelia felt intensely protective of her new child and wanted to keep her accouchement private for a little while longer. Once she began to show, those efforts would be futile. Finally, John acquiesced to his wife's request.

Instead, John had pulled Dr. Thurston out of the room and offered Amelia the comfort of having her mother and sister called.  Thankful, Amelia agreed.  Once Lottie and Mrs. Moore appeared, Amelia had tearfully confessed the doctor's conclusion.  The women provided hearty congratulations, especially to the overjoyed father-to-be who was standing in the corner of the room and prancing about like a proud peacock wearing on Amelia's delicate nerves. Plume yourself elsewhere, Amelia had meanly thought when she first spied his dance. Do you not see the ramifications of this news? How change is afoot? Yet, her heart softened immediately. No, Amelia chided herself, it is all plummy. I cannot begrudge his excitement and devotion that is not more than a pea in the pod.

Unfortunately, those forgiving thoughts were soon eclipsed by an insidious uncertainty that  crept into Amelia's consciousness and taken root: that what small element of her personality that was still her own, would soon be eclipsed by the role of mother and nurturer. Amelia's noble and dutiful streak was pleased at this perspective, but her independent and progressive side was nagging at her. Visions of feeding the body and mind of a child that was her own, holding it next to her breast and continuing to foster its existence were present. However, they often faded into others imagining her ever swollen body expelling little after little of pups like a prized breeding bitch who was devoted to its Master. And what of the dream?  What did the sprightly child in her vision mean?  Amelia felt certain that there was a distinct but covert, elusive message hidden there that tugged at the edges of her consciousness as when she was trying to sleep.

Of late, the cradle of sleep had become increasingly important as the fatigue of early pregnancy had set in.   More often that not, Amelia desperately longed to return to the ever comforting wings of Morpheus.Her dyspepsia was put at ease, a fact that she relished as so many of her favourite foods had begun to taste ashen or unpleasant.  Sitting at the dining table had become a drudgery.  Where one would expect appetizing aromas, Amelia was met with an noxious onslaught to her senses that often left her feeling exasperated. Furthermore, being in the company of the men in Eagleton Manor had become a tedious chore, a veritable exercise in forbearance that Amelia had not predicted.

First and foremost came the inconvenience of John Dyer, father-to-be.  He had set himself to task in the last few weeks with an unprecedented keenness and audacity.  Firstly, John has spoken to Mr. Archer and asked him to come of board to help manage some of his business connections. Precipitously when asked the rationale, John had eagerly shared the couple's joyous news causing Mr. Archer to generously accept. John, therefore, had free time to devote himself to gleaning the latest scientific knowledge about childbirth and gestation.  He corresponded with Dr. Thurston daily, sending regular updates on Amelia's condition and general appearance. Daily inquires about all intimate aspects of Amelia's life became routine, and when John felt like his wife was not as forthcoming as he would like, John enlisted the assistance of the chambers maids to observe her.

There was little doubt in Amelia's mind that John's efforts were well intended.  John had often spoken of his desire to have a large family when they were children.  His own mother's disappointment and frustration in having only been able to produce the heir and not the spare had been acutely felt by John.  Despondency had crept into the late Mrs. Dyer's countenance during her early breeding years as each month of courses brought proof of her inability fulfill her wifely duties.  Mr. Dyer continued to love his wife dearly and within time, Mrs. Dyer's grief had been transformed into action.  She threw her energies into John's upbringing and sought opportunities to share her motherly devotion with the children of their tenants.  This choice solidified the late Mrs. Dyer as a most beloved woman. 

John had celebrated his mother's affable tendencies, often praising her charitable self appointment as a neighbourhood guardian.  However, Amelia had remarked there was a streak of loneliness in John lingering below the surface.  These feelings were placed so deeply down that Amelia often wondered if John was aware of them.  Perspicacious observation of the light that sparked in John's eye when he was around her siblings had been the primary clue that lead Amelia to her conclusion.  The invigoration of that befell John when he pretended to be the oldest brother of the Moore children reinforced her theory.  Amelia could understand his excitement at the thought of becoming a father to a brood of his very own and could therefore forgive some trespasses on her privacy.

Amelia's grace, however, did not extend to willful gaffes in etiquette. John's zeal in taking on Mr. Archer as a confidante discomforted Amelia. It was so blatant and forward. Blithely, John would discuss some his exciting research discoveries with his wife and friend while they dined.  One evening, John had spoken at length about William Charles Wells'  lecture to the Royal Society in April of this very year touting the gentleman's newest theories in evolution. Fascination with animal procreation and had sprung into the consideration that man too had guaranteed his longevity by propagating specific qualities into his issue. 

The discussion of reproductive biology struck too close a chord for Amelia.   One could quickly intimate that John's elation was directly related to the thoughts of the life that grew within her and how its conception secured the Dyer lineage. With each nightly discussion, Amelia felt like a breeding mare and she thought the subject was too intimate for conversation with a newly discovered relation.  On more than one occasion, Amelia had felt her cheeks burn brightly with chagrin at John's candor.  I am thankful, Amelia thought, that John has not been so boorish as to blubber about this topic before the servants.  In such an event I shall be so rosy with shame that they might confuse me with the sow roasted that has been roast for dinner. A knife in the back and a pound of flesh is too much to pay!

Amelia's distress did not stem solely from her husband's lack of propriety.  The recent maelstrom had not driven out her memories of what had transpired on the ballroom between herself and the dark gentleman who had now become a fixed presence in her household.  Perhaps I am too keenly aware of him, thought Amelia one evening.  I do not even need to look at him to know that he is near and it is a most grievous and perplexing development. Perhaps it was my imagination! Lud, Mr. Archer having an affection for me! What a bag of moonshine!

As if pulled by an invisible puppeteer's gossamer strings, in that moment Mr. Archer's eye flew up to meet Amelia's. The effect was entirely unsettling. Not only did it appear that he had heard her musings, but it was the first time in many days that Mr. Archer had deigned to gaze in her direction. The azure orbs glancing upon her face now possessed a deep, almost dark well of emotion that Amelia had not previously noted. Curious, Amelia looked deep within the pools and found herself drowning in waters of uncertainty. Flecks of pain and confusion set adrift, destined to crash painfully into rocky shards of wanting. Perhaps Amelia's presumption had some anchor of truth, and just before realization washed over her, Mr. Archer's eyes darkened and fell away. Amelia almost called his name, wanting to wade back into these strange waters, but a rift had appeared and her attempts were more useless than a pile of flotsam in a dried up creek bed.

During this time, Mr. Archer was desperately attempting to keep his expression even as his emotions, rife with conflict, nearly betrayed his thoughts. For you see, a terrible fate had befallen Thomas on the same night that the Dyers had welcomed they news of utmost joy. His realization of his affections for Mrs. Dyer had sprung forth within his chest, and then were quickly staunched with the revelations that a life grew within her that was in no part his own. I have no right to feel such things, Thomas chided himself. I have no claim upon her affections, let alone her body. How dare Cupid poke me with so sharp an arrow?  Such a deep prick!  I oft wonder if it was not Lucifer instead who drove his trident into my side, securing me with a three-pronged wound with sharp edges at every turn!

I shall conquer this! I shall! were Mr. Archer's final thoughts as he dropped his eyes to the table, leaving the beautiful visions of Mrs. Dyer's beauty burned on his eyelids like a brand.