The Marquess and the Midwife (*On Hold*)

13 Norah

I had forgotten about the annual Rayfield holiday in the country that all of the gentry were invited to every year. Kyrie'smother, who had passed away so long ago I could hardly remember what she looked like now, had begun the tradition as a way to escape the season without truly escaping society. It was a week-long schedule of events hosted at their country residence of Southill Park in Bedfordshire. From hunts to croquet tournaments, every day was packed to the brim with activities meant to give the gentry a respite from the stress of the season while still allowing them to be among each other and form meaningful connections in a more relaxed environment. I thought it was positively brilliant. And it had been my favorite week of the year as a child. But now I was the woman courting the Marquess and, as Kyrie had pointed out to my mother and I when he came to call on me two days ago, that would mean I was the guest of honor.

Kyrie and his sister were hosting the event. Her family was even coming to join the revelry as well. But my family and I would be their most esteemed guests. My mother hadn't stopped talking about it since. She had written to Finn and Natalie to invite them, had gone to order all new dresses for me for the occasion, and had been bustling about the house, making sure everything was packed and in order for days now.

The more I thought about the upcoming week, the more I began to feel a gnawing pit opening in the depths of my stomach. A week as the honored guest of the Marquess'. The woman who everyone would be looking at as the next Marchioness. I began to regret everything, every moment from when we had made this arrangement and since. The point was to draw myself away from public attention, not thrust myself out in front of it. I would miss my lesson as well. I'd told Kyrie as much when we had a moment alone to whisper conspiratorially while my mother floated away to inform my father of the honor the Marquess had just bestowed upon us. He had promised to make it up to me, claiming that his cousin had left even more Oxford medical textbooks in the library of his family's country estate and that I might peruse them at my leisure whenever we had free time at Southill Park.

I hadn't seen him since. I imagined he was quite busy planning a week full of activities for the gentry and there was probably a whole host of expenses that would need accounting for as soon as we found some time for it. But I wondered if he was feeling just as anxious about the planned festivities as I was. My sister and her family were coming, his brother-in-law and nieces were joining. This thing between us was starting to feel too real. Involving our families, having our sisters and their families meet, I couldn't help but feel guilty for the lie, for letting them believe, like everyone else, that there was more than a chance of something forming between us.

So perhaps that was the reason that I was feeling so ill by the time the day arrived in which we were to leave for SouthillPark. My mother had spent the early hours of the morning floating through the house issuing orders to nearby servants to prepare this or pack that. She had painstakingly selected my dresses for the week the previous evening and had even remained behind long enough to ensure that Ingrid properly stored them for the journey in a way that would not allow them to become wrinkled or dirty. Most of the other boxes held vast selections of jewels, shoes, and other accessories for me in case of any possible opportunity. My mother and father's own luggage was tiny by comparison and I felt quite the fool at the ludicrous amount of finery being lugged all the way into the country for me. But I was too nervous to argue with her, too afraid that if I said a word against the packing or the events planned in Southill Park, she would see through our ruse and everything would fall apart. So I kept my mouth firmly shut and rode all the way into the country in a carriage with my parents without a word exchanged between us.

"It's alright to be nervous," my mother said, speaking so suddenly in the silent carriage that I jumped when she leaned forward to place a hand on my arm. "But the Marquess already seems quite taken with you. In fact, I think we should be expecting an offer of betrothal any day now."