Agnes at the Ballroom Bonus Scene

Agnes

One Year Later

Agnes huffed out a breath as she placed her hand on her large, round belly. She recalled Helena almost two years ago, when she and William had begun their fake courtship and the woman had been so pregnant she had barely been able to move. Agnes thought she had felt sorry for the woman then, but it was nothing like the empathy that was coursing through her now.

According to the doctors, she still had about a month left in her pregnancy. But she couldn’t help but hope that the child might come early. She was so very tired of being pregnant.

Esther watched her with weary eyes Agnes lowered herself into the chair across from her. And Agnes could tell that Esther was prepared to jump up and help her at any sign of distress or difficulty.

“Here,” Esther said, pushing herself out of her chair and darting across the room to grab an ottoman.

Agnes finished sinking herself into the chair as Esther brought over the small foot stool and set it before her.

“I know in my final months my feet were so terribly swollen that everything was uncomfortable; sitting, standing, it was all terrible. The only thing that helped,” she leaned forward and patted the top of the ottoman, “was resting them on one of these.”

Agnes glanced around, ensuring that no one was there to see them before she did as Esther had recommended. The relief it brought was instant, and Agnes had to fight past a moan as she sank further into her chair.

“So,” Esther said, watching her cousin with fondness. “How are you liking pregnancy?”

“Oh Esther,” Agnes scoffed. “It’s horrid. The first few months I thought it wasn’t so bad. Once I got through the sickness, I felt alright. But now,” she patted her belly lovingly. “I feel as large as a house.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you aren’t the size of a house,” Esther said with a mischievous grin. “But perhaps only the size of a carriage.”

Agnes rolled her eyes at her cousin, but she had to admit the other woman’s joking nature lifted her spirits immensely.

“So, tell me. What was the birth like?” Agnes asked. “Mother won’t tell me, so now it must be you.”

Esther paused, and Agnes had to imagine she was recalling the child she had given birth to nearly six months prior.

“I won’t lie to you,” Esther answered hesitantly. “It was quite painful. But the moment Mary was placed in my arms, all of that fell away and there was only her. It was like she was the only human that has ever existed and would ever exist.”

Longing and lovefilled her cousin’s gaze, so deep that Agnes thought it might begin to leak out of her. It made her heart warm to think of her cousin and very best friend being that deliriously happy.

Agnes often thought about how different her life could have been. If she had not helped Esther and Laurence the night they began courting, if she had never repaired her friendship with her cousin, if she had married Benedict. If any of those things had come to pass, her life would look so incredibly different than it did in that moment. But Agnes knew that she would not trade it.

Different did not always mean better, after all. And now she loved everything about her life, even if she was terrified about the prospect of giving birth in a few short weeks.

“And how is it after the birth? How was Mary?”

Esther’s gaze turned so soft it was practically melting as she thought of her daughter. “She was so perfect,” Esther explained. “She still is. Everything she does is the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.”

Agnes scrunched up her nose, wondering if perhaps having a child addled your mind. Agnes had always like children well enough, but she also often found them loud and a bit off-putting. But perhaps everyone felt that way but fell entirely in love with their own children. Only time would tell.

The door to the parlor opened and a maid stepped in. She was carrying a tray filled with a tea kettle and cups, as well as sandwiches and biscuits for them to eat. The girl sat them on a small, spindly table that rested between Agnes and Esther before giving them a slight bow of respect and retreating from the room.

Agnes’ mood was always brightened by the sight of food those days, and as such she immediately picked up one of the small plates that had been provided and began loading it with the offerings before them.

“I have a bit of news,” Esther said with a grin as she poured herself a cup of tea.

Agnes bit into a biscuit, letting the sweetness of it dance across her tongue as she looked at her cousin expectantly.

“The Earl has left town.” Esther raised a brow as she watched Agnes.

After the events of the Twelfth Day ball, Benedict was forced to pay back the money he had accepted from Eleanor’s father, and the money he had accepted from the fathers of a few other women as well. It was rumored that he had spent the course of the last year trying to find himself a wife of high standing, but no one would have him now that they knew the truth.

Agnes scrunched up her nose as she considered this. She did not harbor any hard feelings toward Benedict. She did not hold any ill feelings toward the man, despite the fact that he had tried his best to swindle her and her family during their time of need. She looked at her cousin, wiping a bit of biscuit crumbs from the corner of her mouth before she spoke.

“I hope that he’s alright,” Agnes said honestly. “What he has been subject to from the ton this past year must not have been easy for him. And hopefully, he’ll find whatever it is that he’s looking for.”

Esther blinked at her, but Agnes just held her cousin’s gaze. She meant what she had said. She did hope that Benedict found what he was looking for. But beyond that, she also hoped that he found love. Because if there was one thing that life had taught her, it was that love, above all else, was the only thing that really made life worth living.

The End...

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After a long and tricky journey, Agnes and William found love… but a lost soul is still running away from scandal…

What will happen to Earl Benedict Hampton?

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