Henrietta Cancels the Coach

Henrietta sat up with a start when her husband came in the door.
"It's all set up," Sir Frederick declared, and smiled at her disarray. "We'll even have the same house as last year. That'll be far less of a pain, won't it? And the Earl says he'll come up too, in a little. You'll see Elinor again, and we won't see your brother..."

"No," Henrietta said, and smiled a little. She turned away from him to get up. "Frederick," she said. "I-I'm very sorry..."

Sorry? He couldn't imagine why she would be sorry. Unless she had invited her brother after all...
"We can't go up to London this year."

"Why not?"

She let out a burst of breath somewhere beetween a sob and laughter, and smiled weakly at him. But he suddenly realized what she had meant, and felt rather stupid. He pulled her against him, laughing. They were both laughing, trembling against one another.

"Ninny!" Henrietta murmered against his neck.

"When?"

"November," she said. She looked somewhat dazed. "It-it's so early, though..."
She was afraid, he realized.
"I didn't want to tell you until later," she said softly. "But I knew we couldn't go up if..."

Frederick was doing math. It was the middle of March. What did that mean? They weren't even as far along as before. But he mustn't let her think like that.
"It is reason enough to cancel the coach, dear," he said. He ran his hand through her hair. "Now all you and I shall have to do is to think up a reason not to invite your brother here in the summer."

"You can say I'm in too delicate a condition to stand the likes of him!" she laughed. And then somehow Frederick knew it would be alright.