"Ow!"
The yelp in front of her startled Daphne out of her reverie. She had been sitting with one hand in Eloise's hair, the other clasped to her abdomen. The odd feeling has left almost as quickly as it had come, like a butterfly or a swallow flapping its wings inside of her, only to fly off when she attempted to catch it. With an effort, she loosened her grip before she tore strands of her sister's lovely dark locks from her head. Briefly she contemplated mentioning the feeling, then decided against it. Eloise would have no notion of what it meant and would fret, which would only make Daphne fret. Better to ask her mother. She would know.
“Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”
More carefully this time, she resumed her work at forming the long fishtail. These days, Eloise rarely did anything to alter her hair, but it had been so long since the two of them had spent any appreciable measure of time together. They had both jumped at the chance. Now, Daphne was grateful to have something to do with her hands, for it would stop them from shaking.
There it was again.
Every instinct in her body screamed that something was wrong, screamed for her to try and do something. After all that she and Simon had been through, fought through, she did not think that she could bear it if something were to go wrong. But instead, she swallowed everything, forcing herself to remain calm. Rattled nerves would only hurt her in her condition. She knew that the strands were popping free of her fingers, but she could not bring herself to make more than half-hearted attempts to shepherd them back. Finally, she reached the end and examined the finished product. It was a mess, to use a polite phrase. Even Eloise, with her rejection of vanity would refuse to wear it as such. Sighing, she released it, watching as it unwound into a loose framework of what she had done.
"Something troubles you, dearest?"
Though it was phrased as a question, the tone from Violet Bridgerton fooled no one. Every Bridgerton child (Simon included) had heard it, and every Bridgerton child had wisely chosen to speak, rather than face the interrogation that awaited otherwise. Daphne knew that Eloise was watching her through the mirror, though the latter was making an excellent pass at appearing disinterested.
"Mama, have you ever...? Did you ever...?"
She was doomed. There had never existed an area of comfort between her and her mother when it came to discussing bodily functions, much less when discussing those related to
marital relations. She cleared her throat and tried again.
"When you were with child, did you ever... did you ever feel wings?"
She felt a blush rise to her cheeks and dropped her eyes slightly. Curses. To her surprise, she was quickly wrapped in a light hug, the rich, musical sound of her mother's laugh ringing in her ears.
"Oh, darling! Worry not." She turned and saw a face nearly split in two by an enormous, bright smile. "It is only the baby moving."
"Oh." Daphne released a breath she had not realized she still held. She felt like a fool. Surely she should have recognized some sign within her own body, rather than relying on her mother to tell her.
"Dearest, do not worry. It is like this for every woman the first time she carries a babe. Oh, but this is wonderful!"
Her mother's unbridled giddiness was catching, and she slowly felt it spreading across to her. A smile, more of grin at first, formed on the side of her mouth. Unbidden, it stretched until she could feel herself beaming. This was real. The trials and tribulations, the mornings of sickness, the sudden inability to fit into gowns that had once proved perfect. It was truly happening. She giggled.
"I am with child!"
"Well, but we knew that." Eloise's grounded voice punctured her bubble, bringing her back to the room. "Now, do you intend to finish my hair, sister, or shall I have to go to tea looking like Moll Flanders?"
In a lesser woman, the face Daphne pulled at her sister might have been called hideous. She leaned over slightly, clasping her hands around herself.
"Do not listen to your Aunt Eloise, little one. She loves you already, even if she does not show it."
