Beatrice wasn't the happiest with this piece of information, but there was only so little she could do.
When Juliet told Estelle about her plans to leave as well, Estelle had planned to come with her, just as usual, but Juliet had refused.
“What are you talking about?” Estelle had asked, staring anxiously at Juliet when she said no to her offer.
“You've spent too much time with me, Estelle, and I am grateful for that. You are one of the main reasons I am still alive today, and I want you to know that.”
“So let me come with you so I can keep saving you.”
Juliet had reached for her maid's hands. “I do not want you to keep serving me.”
Estelle had grown confused. “Why?”
“Because you deserve better. I know you have had your eye on Lord Charles for a while now.”
“Milady—”
“And I know for a fact that he likes you too. I need to set you free so you can explore other parts of your life. We will remain friends, and you can always come to visit me. But I have to walk the next phase of this journey alone. You and I have come so far. It is time you find your own journey, too.”
Estelle had stared at her own hands, the idea of her newfound freedom scaring her to her core. “What am I to do now?”
“Go and talk to Lord Charles. I know it is the norm to wait for the man to make the first move, but it is important you do this. Perhaps this will put an end to the unspoken words between you two.”
Estelle had stared at Juliet in dazed confusion. Was her mistress going insane?
A few weeks later, Juliet and Weston left the manor fully for their newfound life on the border. The cottage was everything Juliet could have hoped for. It tied her to nature and everything it had to offer. They both started their blossoming marriage in the cottage, enjoying life one after the other. Weston still went to his meetings with friends, but now, he was freer. Juliet visited her Aunt Grace occasionally, and Aunt Grace returned the favor. She started to grow flowers around the house, loving the sense of control it gave her overall. For the next six months, they would make the house into their own personal haven and grow into it like the happy couple they were originally meant to be.
At least until that morning. Juliet had woken up and had gone about her duty, tending to the flowers and the new budding trees she was getting to grow. She had leaned down to grab a piece of fruit when her eyes darkened, and she grew dizzy. She stood back up and shook it off, thinking it was only a mild head rush. However, on her way to the house, the dizziness had reappeared, this time even more overwhelming. Juliet did not know when her fruit basket slipped off her hands as she felt herself crash into the ground, going unconscious.
Weston had found her a while later and had grown terribly worried. His worry did not wane when she woke up either, and before she could stop him, he had sent word to the only good physician he knew and trusted—Irene.
***
Irene nodded gently, her eyes narrowed. “And that was all that happened? You are not leaving anything out?”
Juliet nodded. “Yes.”
Irene examined Juliet's forehead once again. Juliet wondered what she was searching for but didn't bother about it for long. Irene's eyes traveled to Juliet's hands. She inspected her fingernails and knuckles. Her eyes finally settled on Juliet's tummy, and a broad smile appeared on her face.
“It looks like you might need to send word to your dressmaker. These ones will not fit you anymore.”
Juliet's face was drained of color. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you remember the last time you got your monthly visitor?”
“What?”
“Your period, my lady.”
And then the wave of understanding hit her. Her eyes widened, and she turned to look at Weston, then Irene.
“Are you saying I am—”
“It looks like it.” Irene explained. “Of course, there are now things you need to start eating more of and less of. I shall explain all of that in a moment.
Juliet turned to her husband, the expression on her face instinctively turning to elation. “Do you hear, Weston? She says I'm pregnant!?”
Weston stared at her in shock. “What?”
