THE COLONIES ~ 8 ~ A RETURN TO BRITISH SOIL

The warm golden sun lit up the expansive meadow where horses galloped wildly leaving round imprints in the ground. Birds chirped sweetly from the branches outside my bed chambers and the house was abuzz. It seemed every element of today was urging me to wake up with a smile on my face but a heavy sadness loomed over me.

It had been three months since Alison and I arrived back in England after a two month journey from the colonies. What was supposed to be a minor political disagreement had evolved into what was being now called the revolutionary war. I had no contact with Caleb since he saw us off at the harbor and the time apart from him was dreadful.

"Darling," Ali opened the oak doors slowly then stormed across the room to draw the curtains letting in a stream of golden light.

"Close them," I shuddered pulling the covers over my face. "Sunshine makes me miserable."

"My sweet girl," she sat at the edge of the bed and stroked my forehead. "Darling, you must do something. You will become one with this bed if you lay here any longer."

"That's what I'm wishing for," I spat back.

"It might be good to get some sun," she continued, "in your condition. You used to love running through the meadow and rolling down the poppy hill."

"I'm no longer a child," I reminded her. "I hardly think I'll be rolling down hills anytime soon."

"What about a trip to the market?" she offered. "You always loved visiting the merchants. Maybe we can purchase some fabric for a new gown."

"Fine," I threw off the covers. "I will go to the market. Tell the waitstaff to have the coach ready."

Alison helped me out of my dressing gown and into royal blue skirt with a gold bodice. She laced me up and we accommodated ourselves in the carriage. The rolling motion over the rickety cobblestones made me ill but I had to admit it was pleasant to be out of the four walls I had enslaved myself within. I kept that thought to myself, however. The last thing I needed was Alison smugly reminding me that she had once again concocted a brilliant idea for my rehabilitation since being separated from Caleb.

"We're here!" Ali hopped out with the help of the footman and then he took my hand, carefully setting me upright on the gravel.

"It smells abhorrent," I sniffed the scent of freshly caught fish lying in the heat of the sun.

"Can't you try and enjoy the sunshine?" Alison slid her arm through mine. "It's such a beautiful day."

"It would be more beautiful with Caleb by my side," I replied distantly.

"Darling," she sighed, "must we reminisce on the past? Can't you remember back to a time when Sir Caleb was a vile miscreant?"

"But I was wrong," I replied. "He is no such thing. He is kind and delicate and playful. But stern when it comes to matters of politics."

"Well, you would do best to forget him," she responded. "He hasn't replied to your letter. For all we know, he's settled down with a native or been lost at war."

"How dare you!" I snapped.

"I only intend to help," she said. "Have you considered the thought of other suitors?"

"And who might be interested in damaged goods such as I," I told her. "I'm tainted. It hasn't even been a year. If he is in mortal peril, I've not had the time to mourn him."

"Fine then," she said. "I shan't bring it up once more. In the meantime, let us search for my first husband."

As we strolled the market in search of a strapping and eligible young man to take Alison as her own, we stumbled upon Lady Spencer with her stable boy in tow.

"Darling!" Alison greeted her with open arms as she does everyone. "It's been far too long."

"Lady Hanna," she curtsied at my feet. "Pleasure to have you back in Kent. You remember Tobias."

"Toby," he took my hand and kissed it delicately.

"Pleasure," I smiled. "You two look quite lovely together."

"You approve?" Spencer asked confused.

"After what I've experienced over the last few months," I told her, "I've learned not to judge matters of the heart."

"Of course!" Spencer suddenly lit up. "I supposed congratulations are in order. Where is your husband?"

"He was called to the war," I explained. "He is leading his troops against the colonies. I haven't seen him in months."

"What a shame," Spencer replied. "We must be going, but I wish you the best."

"Thank you," I smiled hugging her before she disappeared into the crowd.

"I think maybe it's time we returned to the manor," Alison said. "You look like you could use some rest."

"I think that might be best," I replied.

I followed her back to the carriage and we gingerly stepped inside before the footman fastened the door. It was a silent ride back to the manor. Alison respected my space and twiddled her thumbs the entire time while I stared distantly out the window. A messenger on horseback was leaving just as we arrived.

"Lady Hanna," a maid ran out to greet me once I was back on solid ground. "Your letter was returned."

"Oh," I sighed as she handed me the sealed parchment.

"And you have a visitor in the west wing," she continued.

"The west wing?" I asked. "Those are the guest bedrooms. Are we having guests?"

"The blue room," she smiled.

"Thank you," I shook my head and headed inside.

The corridor echoed as my hurried footsteps strutted through the hallway into the west wing. I arrived at the door touting the familiar blue crest. I tapped the knocker loudly before stepping inside to find Caleb propped against the pillows with bandages wrapping his chest.

"My lord," I breathed standing still in the doorway.

"My sweet Hanna," he smiled.

I crossed the room and sat down at the edge of his bed.

"You never received my letter," I said.

"I was injured a few months after you left," he replied. "I was brought back to England for medical treatment."

"Here," I handed him the folded parchment. "It was meant for you."

He took it from my hands and unveiled it slowly. I watched with bated breath as his eyes scanned the loopy handwriting. His eyes shining brightly as he reached the end of the note.

"You mean..." he paused.

"Yes," I pressed his hand to the gathering at the edge of my bodice. "I'm with child."

"I love you," he kissed my hand.

Then he ran his fingers over my distended abdomen once again. The child growing inside of me pressed against the side of my stomach starting Caleb.

"I felt that," Caleb looked up astonished.

"He kicks a lot," I replied.

"He?" Caleb asked.

"I have a feeling," I told him, "it will be a boy."