Like the overcast of gray clouds hanging in the sky, a sense of inevitably lingered over Maria. Soon it would rain. Soon she would tell him.

She'd tried to seek him out several times already today, without any luck. She'd paced her room for nearly an hour this morning before finally building up the courage to face him, but when she'd gotten to his study she'd found it empty. The same went for the library and that damnable blue parlor room. She'd looked everywhere for him. Once, upon spotting him walking down the hall, she'd even been so bold as to call out to him. But he'd simply strode away as if he hadn't heard her. Perhaps he hadn't. Or perhaps he was avoiding her.

The brute, she thought grimly. She'd already confessed there was something she must tell him, and yet he apparently had no interest in finding out what it was. After their recent conversations she had begun to think him surprisingly considerate and caring. He had talked to her, teased her, treated her with respect. Or at least, so she had thought.

Upon their first meeting in her cottage he'd called her Miss Ross, as she'd been known during her time working in the kitchen. She'd been surprised that he'd remembered her name at all, really. Then, he'd gone on to surprise her further by swiftly correcting himself, using the honorific of Mistress—Mrs. Ross— indicating that he recognized her position as a respectable woman among her peers. Midwives were usually older matrons, women who'd been married and had grown children of their own; women who'd earned renown through their hard work serving the female members of their community. No one would think to call a midwife, whether or not she was married "Miss" as they would the curates innocent daughter. It didn't matter that Maria was nearly eight and twenty and childless, she laid claim to the same privileges as her colleagues. And he'd honored that.

But, had she been wrong about him? Did he perhaps truly not care about her? Well why would he, a marquess, care about some country wench he'd fucked one night nearly a decade ago? That fairytale like story about Diana's origins and the reverence with which he'd regarded her mother didn't have anything to do with Maria. He might show her a modicum of respect, saying he "esteems" her, but that was merely his prerogative as a gentleman; a lord and master speaking with the proper amount of distance and decorum to a woman technically in his employ. "Asset", he had called her too.

Maria sighed. It didn't matter what he thought of her. She would tell him anyway. Her conscience demanded it was the right thing to do; that he deserved to know.

The picnic Lady Laura had invited them to this afternoon was her last hope for today. She would find a moment to be alone with him. Perhaps she'd pretend to trip and twist her ankle and he'd have no choice but to carry her back to the manor. Or she'd beckon him over to a bush and ask him to identify a certain kind of bug and once he was close she'd feign a fit of fright at the grotesque creature and clasp onto his arm. Then she'd blurt it into his ear before he could wriggle out of her grasp.

She'd had enough of waiting, enough of being scared. Now she just wanted it over with.

Marcus and Anna, whose arms were laden with supplies for the picnic, were waiting on the gravel drive in front of the manor. Maria stood at the bottom of the steps, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. Lady Laura and her brother were in the doorway being outfitted with bonnet and hat by the butler.

"Thank you, Graves," Lord Granfell said from above before he strode out the door and down the steps, pulling his leather gloves on as he went. He made a striking figure in his tall hat and dark swaying coat and Maria couldn't help but watch him out of the corner of her eye. Yet, he didn't look at her as he passed. A bottomless feeling opened up inside her stomach, and Maria had to swallow back a lump that was beginning to form in her throat.

Lady Laura came down the steps, her wide brimmed bonnet bouncing and her cheeks already flush from the chill wind. "Oh this weather is just abominable!" she exclaimed as she interlaced her arm with Maria's and turned to walk down the lane.

"Would it be better if we perhaps stay'd at the manor, my lady?" Maria asked.

"Heavens no!" she exclaimed. "We Morrisons are a tough lot. What is a little bit of wind and rain but a hardy spice for the spirit!" She smiled a wide, genuine smile and Maria found herself hoping the world would be kind to this innocent young lady.

The walk was indeed pleasant despite the chill and dampness that blew in the mild wind. The ground was dewy from rainfall earlier that morning, but their descent down the grassy hill leading away from the manor led them to another gravel path that skirted around a pond. A weeping willow drooped over the misty water, its farthest branches dipping lazily into the pond, causing soft ripples to splay outwards.

Lord Granfell walked some ways ahead of them. He'd plucked a long reed from the water's edge and was flicking it against tall grasses that lined the path, making a swishing sound as it sped through the air.

Lady Laura still held onto Maria's arm and walked alongside her. When they rounded the curve of the pond, Maria noticed her surreptitiously looking back across the small pond to where Marcus and Anna had fallen behind them.

"It was kind of you to include me in your picnic today, my lady," Maria said conversationally.

Lady Laura looked up at Maria, who was slightly taller than the young woman, her cheeks flushing prettily. "Not at all! It was entirely selfish, I assure you," she said, her blue eyes gleaming with the same impish expression her brother's had made when he'd teased Maria two nights before.

"How so?" Maria inquired.

"Well, as I am sure you've noticed, I am using this week as something of a 'rehearsal' for the houseparty next week. It will be my first time hosting. I am, in all honesty, quite nervous," she finished with a little laugh.

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Maria encouraged.

Lady Laura gave a gracious smile that dimmed slightly when she continued, "I must admit I have an ulterior motive as well... I wish to speak to you of some other," her eyes flickered to her brother and back, "privately matters," she finished, her voice a near whisper.

"Oh?" Maria intoned.

"Yes well, you see, it isn't every day that a lady such as myself has access to the wisdom of an accomplished midwife."

"And what wisdom would you wish for me to impart, my lady?" Maria crooned invitingly.

Lady Laura hesitated, a look of uncertainty crossing her fine features for a moment before that mischievous look returned and she continued, "I have a certain friend who is a rather curious type, and she has garnered a certain... interest... in a particular young man. This man you see, is not of her class and therefore she cannot marry him, but she would not be entirely off-put by his... advances, if you understand my meaning?"

Maria nodded, a small smile beginning to dawn at the corner of her lips.

"My friend, although not entirely ignorant to the mechanics of such..."she waved her free hand in a vague gesture, "relations, is quite at a loss as how to ensure a woman does not find herself in a delicate situation."

Maria nodded slowly in comprehension. Yes, this was not something young women of Lady Laura's class— or women of any class for that matter— were taught unless they found themselves taking up an occupation in which avoiding such a "delicate situation" was imperative.

Maria spoke in a low voice, only loud enough for her companion to hear, "Although there are some who believe finishing outside of the woman is enough to prevent pregnancy, I have seen many a disgruntled woman who unexpectedly became with child even after implementing such a method. Alternatively, a slip of sorts can be put over the man's member as a barrier or a sponge can be inserted to catch a man's seed. I have seen all of these methods used with moderate success, some partners abstaining from conceiving for years. On the other hand, these methods are not fool-proof and accidents are known to happen. Do you understand my meaning?"

Lady Laura swallowed visibly and nodded, her expression suddenly becoming serious. "I suppose the greatest wisdom would be to abstain altogether."

Maria inhaled deeply, turning her attention for a moment on avoiding a puddle in the pathway. "Well, yes, but also no."

Her companion looked up, her head tilted in question.

"A man must spill his seed inside a woman for her to become with child. Just coming in contact with his member isn't enough. You can touch it, lick it, play with it all you like."

"Lick it?" she squeaked.

Maria nodded, smiling at Lady Laura's eyes, as bright and round as newly minted coins.

"That can't possibly be enjoyable," she admonished.

Maria shrugged. "The only way to know for sure is to find out for yourself."

Lady Laura touched her flush cheek with her hand, "I never... Oh my..." she mused.

Maria ceased walking and leaned in closer, whispering directly into her ear now. "That's not all. There are ways for a man to pleasure a woman without the use of his sex, such as with his fingers or mouth."

"Really?!" she exclaimed, her expression a witch's brew of curiosity, doubt, bewilderment and last but not least, anticipation; her mind obviously conjuring up several scandales images. At the sight of Maria's eager nod, her hand flung to her mouth, stifling a surge of hysterical giggles.

"I have several slips and a small pamphlet with more information in my bag at the manor. Shall I give them to you later?" Maria asked.

Lady Laura nodded in response, gripping onto Maria's arm as if it was a log cast out to sea. "Yes! Thank you!" she blustered while recovering from the momentary fit of nervous amusement.

Maria shared a reassuring smile, the corner of her eyes crinkling in genuine gratification. It pleased her to be one of the few people in this world that young women like Lady Laura could safely talk to about such things, although not every midwife was as open as Maria and her colleagues, especially those who work closely with the church.

When the young woman had fully recovered her wits, she wiped a tear of mirth from her eyes and regarded Maria with a pensive expression, "Forgive me for being blunt, but I can't help but wonder how it is that a woman as young as yourself came to be a midwife?"

Maria felt her blood go cold.

***

Evan scowled back at the image of his sister tittering like a maniac while clutching onto Mrs. Ross' stable arm. The midwife had said something to his sister that'd made Laura flush and hysterical with mirth. He narrowed his eyes, not sure who was to blame for the situation or what he should do about it.

He'd agreed to come on this silly expedition for his sister's sake, and once he'd remembered she had been invited as well, he'd simply planned to keep his distance from her until the entire torturous endeavor was over with.

Evan was a careful man. He was patient and cautious and always thought twice before he spoke or acted, because he needed to. It was because he was so prone to making wild, rash decisions, that at a young age he'd schooled himself into the calm and collected man he was today.

Well, not today.

Against his best efforts, there were times when his composure broke and he just did things, without knowing the rhyme or reason himself.

Evan snapped the reed he'd been distractedly whipping in two and threw it to the ground. Pivoting on his heel he strode toward his sister and her inconvenient guest. The only thought on his mind being that he no longer wanted to avoid her.

He wanted to be close.

A few paces into his stride he heard the beginning of the conversation, and his steps slowed.

"... Several years ago I found myself with child, but the baby was born still. Maude was my midwife. I was alone and... I do not know what I would have done without her. I decided I wanted to help other women too, so I asked to be her apprentice and she accepted."

"Oh..." Laura's curious expression fell into one of deeply felt pity, "I am sorry for your loss. I must admit, I was hoping to hear a happier tale, but thank you for telling me the truth."

They had begun to turn back to their stroll, when Laura nearly ran into him. She reeled back and called his name out in surprise.

Maria simply looked at him, her expression devastatingly calm and the moment their eyes met, he knew.

Suddenly his chest felt tight. His lungs constricted painfully around every breath he took through his wheezing, flared nostrils.

His eyes flickered to Laura, who was staring at him with a startled and concerned expression.

God, he couldn't do this. Not like this, with Laura here and the servants coming from up behind.

Digging the fingers of his right hand into the palm of his left behind his back, he summoned the last vestiges of his composure and spoke softly to his sister, "Laura, it has come to my recollection that there is business I must attend to. I am sorry, I cannot attend your picnic. I must be off."

After one last fleeting look into Maria's haunted eyes, he bowed and turned to leave, fleeing the scene as swiftly as if Death himself nipped at his heels.