Truth be told, Adelaide was nervous about their masquerade this evening, and it was taking all of her composure not to show it. She was comfortable hosting events, could have done so in her sleep, but she was growing larger by the day with her child, and she would not be dancing this evening, which detracted from some of the enjoyment she might have found in it. Now she would have nothing to divert her attention from her anxieties, from seeing to every perceived need of her guests, from wondering if they were pleased, if they were enjoying the event, if she had done enough…

So many questions swam around her head before a single guest had arrived, and it was due to only grow worse when they did.

As though it could sense her rising tension, the child within her moved, hardly enough to set her awry, but enough to set her hand at the swelling where the motion had been.

Motherhood would be upon her in a matter of months, and she felt entirely out of her depth. Her own mother had been a fair enough example of raising children into adulthood without ruining them, but it seemed far more complicated than that. She did not want her child to feel as though it were only an afterthought in life, or that it existed for whatever purpose she or Society dictated.

She wanted better for her child than for herself.

Would that be enough?

The child was also Basset’s, and he had a father and a brother of poor tastes, which seemed to indicate some tendency toward sin. But it was possible the thing was a learned behavior rather than an inherited one. After all, Basset did not even blink at the prospect of temptation.

Richard had told her that he had always been that way.

They had been writing to each other on a fairly regular basis, though not with any haste, after her response to his first letter, which she had carefully worded to avoid giving encouragement or excessive details about her life with Basset. To Richard’s credit, he had not inquired as to any. He seemed to only want to establish a friendship with Adelaide, and he did not even press there.

She had perhaps four letters from him now, all told, and while he never shied away from his life of sin, he seemed to show true regret for how it had affected the relationship with his brother and with all at Trevadden. He truly struggled with his tendencies, finding the defense against them lacking and the will to withstand them weak. But he showed real affection for Adelaide, for Basset, and for his childhood home in Cornwall.