Chapter 153
As they entered the Parsonage, a large maidservant opened the door. The maid bowed respectfully to the landowners and led them to the drawing room.
After waiting on the sofa for about five minutes, Mrs. Starr entered the drawing room with flour on her cheek.
"Welcome!"
She waddled as she walked, almost like a duck. Still, no one could laugh at her gait, except perhaps with a smile of contentment. Mrs. Starr's belly was swollen round as if she were carrying a full moon.
Laura ignored the flour on her cheek and shook her hand.
"How have you been?"
"Very well, indeed. I'm baking a raspberry pie to treat you both. I've told them to bring it out with tea, so please wait a moment. My husband will be here soon, too. He went to see the rabbit hutch with Harry."
The three sat down.
Mrs. Starr's belly seemed even larger than when they had last seen her, proof that the baby inside was growing bigger every day. Mrs. Starr, who had announced her pregnancy around the time Laura was settling into life in Whitefield, was very excited as her delivery date approached.
Wishing for a daughter, the woman prayed to God every day to grant her a daughter, tinkled on the piano and sang to the daughter in her womb, and even obtained herbs from gypsies that were said to turn sons into daughters, which she brewed and drank.
Laura presented Mrs. Starr with the gifts she had bought in London: a silver rattle and a colorful mobile with various animal figures.
"Oh, my! Such lovely things!"
Laura smiled brightly.
"I hope the baby will like them."
"Of course, she will! Oh, I'm so happy. I couldn't get anything this nice for Harry. His father was a curate back then, so we didn't have much income. Thank you so much."
Mrs. Starr shook the mobile, her eyes filled with admiration.
Watching the delighted Mrs. Starr, Mr. and Mrs. Dalton exchanged glances. It was nice that the recipient was so pleased, but they were unsure how long they should pretend not to notice the flour on her cheek.
Soon, Reverend Star and his son, Harry, entered. Reverend Star took off his hat and strode towards the Daltons.
"Welcome, Mrs. Dalton, and Mr. Dalton. Did you enjoy your visit to London?"
Ian shook his friend's hand and replied cheerfully.
"Of course, Oliver."
Laura nodded and smiled.
"Thanks to your concern, we had a good trip, Reverend Star."
"Honey, look at this. Mrs. Dalton brought a wonderful gift from London."
Reverend Star turned to look at his wife. Seeing his wife shaking the colorful mobile, his face turned red.
He sat next to his wife, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and began to wipe Mrs. Starr's cheek. Mrs. Starr's face turned bright red with embarrassment as she saw the white flour on her husband's green handkerchief.
Laura quickly interjected.
"Oh, my, you had flour on your cheek. Your skin is so fair that we didn't even notice. Isn't that right, dear?"
"Of course. I didn't notice at all. Mrs. Starr, your face is indistinguishable from flour dough."
Ian, never one for empty compliments, made his lie sound unnatural. The atmosphere became awkward for a moment at the remark, which was hard to tell whether it was an insult or a compliment.
Mrs. Starr seemed to feel beyond embarrassment, even a sense of shame. She had always respected the Daltons, so simply showing them this side of herself was devastating.
Reverend Star, wanting to change the subject, introduced Harry to the Daltons.
Harry was a little boy about to turn five, a handsome child who had inherited his father's fine features and his mother's clear skin.
The boy took off his hat and bowed politely, with a refined demeanor that even a London gentleman could not imitate.
"Hello, Harry. You're growing bigger every time I see you."
To Laura's kind greeting, the boy replied with a serious face.
"Thank you. You become more beautiful every time I see you, Madam."
The adults laughed aloud at the unchildlike reply.
Laura praised Harry's intelligence lavishly. Mrs. Starr quickly cheered up, and the atmosphere became friendly again.
Raspberry pie and tea were served. They ate the pie and chatted. The Daltons spoke about the wedding in London, and Mrs. Starr spoke about the major and minor events that had occurred in the village while the landowners were away from Whitefield.
Even as the conversation flowed, Laura found her attention drawn to Mrs. Starr's belly. The large belly, disproportionate to her slender frame, seemed as if it would burst with just a slight prick, like a balloon.
'What must it feel like to have such a swollen belly?'
Laura had seen pregnant women often. During her time in London, she had often visited friends and neighbors who were heavily pregnant. Some women were bedridden in a half-dead state because their morning sickness never stopped until they were full-term, while others waddled around excitedly, sweeping up baby supplies.
At the time, she had only thought it was fascinating to see the widely varying states of pregnant women, but now, looking at Mrs. Starr before her, Laura was filled with more complex emotions.
It had already been a year since she had married, yet she was still not pregnant.
Of course, a year was not that long. She knew that many couples conceived in their third or fourth year of marriage. But Laura was anxious, as she could not help but be aware of her age when it came to the issue of pregnancy.
She was already thirty-one.
Most of the women around her had married in their early twenties, and some had become brides as early as their teens. At Laura's age, she should already have two or three children and be acting like a proper middle-aged woman.
Of course, it was possible to have children in one's thirties. Mrs. Fairfax had most of her children in her thirties, and Mrs. Starr, who was so heavily pregnant, was only a year younger than Laura.
But Laura had an unusual past, and she had never been healthy for a single moment because of it. In her childhood, she had suffered from malnutrition due to her uncle's abuse, and during her time at the girls' school, she was always overworked from studying to avoid being branded as a bastard.
In society, she had suffered from headaches and stomach problems throughout her twenties as if they were chronic illnesses, due to humiliation, alienation, and insults. She had never been able to gain weight, no matter what she ate.
Recently, Laura had been plagued by these thoughts: Could some part of her body have been damaged by the hardships of her past? Had she become too weak to carry a child, so that a baby could not even dare to settle in her womb?
If so, she would not be able to give her husband a child. She would not be able to give him the joy of becoming a father, and the Dalton Family would have no heir, and the beautiful land would pass to distant relatives with whom they had no connection.
'Ian could have married a much younger and healthier woman than me. He's being deprived of happiness that he could easily have had because of me.'
When her thoughts reached this point, Laura could not focus on anything.
"Do you like the pie, Mrs. Dalton?"
Lost in thought, Laura quickly snapped back to reality at Mrs. Starr's question.
"Yes. It's very delicious. The strawberries are fresh. Did you buy them at the market?"
"No. The children from the choir picked them for me. They say that there are strawberries all over the mountain these days because the weather is warm. They always gather in groups of three or five and go to the forest to pick strawberries. Oh, if only my belly weren't like this, I would go with them."
Laura smiled brightly.
"Strawberries will grow next year, and the year after that. If God grants my wish, I might be able to hold my daughter's hand and go pick strawberries with her."
Mrs. Starr giggled.
"How wonderful that would be. I've also prepared lots of patterns for girls' clothes. I'm going to make her pretty dresses to wear every day, braid her hair, and play house with her. Speaking of which, Harry is a son, so he's not much fun to raise. He's always burying his nose in books in his father's study. He's a child who makes his mother lonely. If God had given me a daughter, she would surely have been my closest friend."
Laura glanced at Harry, worried that he might be hurt by Mrs. Starr's words.
Harry was sitting on a small stool, eating the raspberry pie on his plate.
Reverend Star stroked his son's head and asked.
"Harry, are you looking forward to having a sibling?"
The boy put down the fork and plate he was holding on the table, as he had been taught by his father to put down his utensils and answer politely when an adult asked him something.
"Of course. It will relieve Mother's loneliness, and it will be a great joy to Father as well."
Laura asked kindly.
"It would certainly be happiness for your parents. But Harry, I'm curious about how you feel. Your mother will be busy when your sibling is born and won't be able to pay as much attention to you as before."
"Thank you for your concern, Madam. Of course, that would be regrettable, but I think it's something I have to accept. Sharing my parents' love with a sibling is a common misfortune, so there's no need to be pessimistic. Besides, a lovely sibling will also bring me joy."
The boy spoke in a serious tone, more solemn than his father, the Reverend.
"So, a sibling would be a joyful presence for Harry, too?"
"Of course, Madam. I, too, am eagerly awaiting the birth of my sibling. I pray to God every night that my sibling will be born healthy and, if it does not go against the Lord's plan, that He will grant my mother's wish and give her a daughter."
"Really?"
Mrs. Starr was startled, as if she were hearing her son's true feelings for the first time. The boy gave his mother a dignified smile.
"God made me a blunt and boring child, so no matter how hard I try, I can't be your cute friend, Mother. I've always been sorry for that. But if I have a younger sister, she will do for you what I couldn't. Then you'll be happier than before. And if you're happier, our family will be even happier."
Tears welled up in Mrs. Starr's sky-blue eyes. She was moved by her son's sincerity. She reached out her arms to her son. The boy walked over demurely and hugged his mother.
