Page 49 of An Accidental Elopement

“It was not as if either of us had a choice in the matter...” he drawled.

Cecilia opened her mouth to make an indignant comment, but he cut her off.

“Not that I regret it,” he amended in a softer tone of voice. “In fact...” he hesitated and reached for her hand and Cecilia felt her heart beat fast and wildly in her chest, despite her commanding it not to. “I can’t imagine being married to anyone else. I don’t want to be married to anyone else. I...”

Archie stopped when Cecilia shook her head. She could not bear to hear him continue.

“I can’t trust you again,” she stated and tried to meet his gaze even though she was not quite able to. “Ever,” she added and looked into his blue eyes only to see the most pained expression she had ever seen in another person. Cecilia clenched her fists and jaw to strengthen herself against anything her stupid, foolish soft heart might make her do.

Twenty-Three

Archie was glad that Hester and Flint had departed, meaning that there was a room available in the family hallway, as well as Flint’s room in the guest wing, but he wanted to be as close to Cecilia as possible. Even if she would not speak to him now. Even if they would never again share what they had.

He stared into the darkness of the room while trying to wrap his head around what she had said and had not said. She had been angry with him for being foolish enough to father a child with Lavinia, but what had upset her most, what seemed to have severed all ties that they could ever live comfortably together, was the fact that he had not told her. That she could not trust him because he had withheld information from her.

But what could he have done? Which man in his right mind told his new bride that he had conceived a child with his paramour only months before they had wed? He tossed to one side, but almost immediately shifted to the other. Even though the bedding had been changed, Hester’s scent of lemon and spring flowers still wafted from it when he moved. Archie lay on his back, his nose as far from the mattress as possible to minimize the scent.

He wanted to go to Cecilia – and he did not. He wanted to talk to her, argue, plead his case until she was finally able to see the matter from his point of view – he did not.

With a frustrated sigh, Archie sat up in bed and tore at his hair. He would not be able to sleep and there was no point in torturing himself by remaining here. He needed a brandy, but since this had been Hester’s room until today of course there was no liquor here.

He could call for a servant to bring it, but the restless energy surging through his body urged him to put on a pair of pantaloons and his dressing gown and hurry down the hallway toward his parents’ private salon, where he knew his father always had a tumbler of the best brandy available. He had not bothered bringing a candlestick and was surprised when he walked in and found that several were already lit as well as the fireplace. A shushing noise from the corner alerted him to his older brother Henry sitting on the sofa, rocking his infant son in his arms.

Archie greeted him with a wave and steered directly towards the side table; he had no wish to stay in a room with a sleeping infant longer than he had to. But as he filled his own tumbler with three fingers worth of brandy, he could not help but raise the bottle in a questioning manner toward his brother. Henry nodded and sent him a grateful smile. Archie was not certain how much a new father sitting up with his young child at night could stomach and only poured two fingers for him. He held the glass out to Henry and meant to leave, but his brother checked his son’s face and exhaled in a mellow voice:

“He is asleep now.”

After accepting the tumbler from Archie, Henry took a small sip before setting it down on a side table by the sofa.

“Edwina is going to wonder why I smell of brandy when I return.” Henry sent him a tired smile.

“Why are you here? Taking care of him?” Archie motioned towards his tiny nephew's back which was covered in a white gown as well as a dark gray woolen blanket.

“Edwina needed a couple of hours of sleep,” Henry answered, leaned back, and took another small sip of his drink again.

Archie copied his motion but took a much larger sip of his brandy and pushed all thoughts of another young child that would arrive soon out of his mind. It would do him no good to wonder who would be taking care of it when it was fussy at night.

“Don’t you have a nanny for that?” Archie asked as he sat down. He realized he preferred the company of a sleeping infant to that of his own thoughts in the darkness of his bedroom.

“Edwina wants us to take care of the children ourselves as much as possible. This is how her mother and her grandmother have done it and she thinks it will be beneficial for them,” Henry explained in a tired voice that told Archie that despite Henry adoring his wife, he did not exactly agree with the decision.

Archie huffed as he watched his brother gently stroke his son’s back almost as a reflex. Archie swallowed the joke that had been on his lips and blurted his question before he lost his nerve to hear the answer.

“Did you... how did you feel when Edwina told you she was expecting?” He could not bear to meet his brother’s eyes, but he could hear the glee in Henry’s voice as he exclaimed a little too loudly:

“Are you and Cecilia already...?” Henry quickly checked himself and whispered: “Congratulations.”

“It’s not... we’re not... No,” Archie muttered, still without meeting Henry’s eyes. If he was not able to make amends to Cecilia, chances were that they might not ever have a child unless Cecilia had already conceived.

“Oh,” Henry began, and judging from his tone of voice, he would probably have apologized if Archie had not interrupted him by saying:

“Would you please just answer the question?”

Henry was quiet for a moment. Archie stole a glance at him as he took another large sip of his brandy. Henry frowned as if he was trying to determine why Archie asked.

Of all his siblings Henry was the one he looked the most like. Or that was to say, both of them bore a strong resemblance to their father: tall, broad-shouldered, and blue-eyed. Henry’s hair was darker than Archie’s and he had cut his short and practical since he had given up his philandering ways before meeting Edwina. Archie preferred his longer and wavier. As did the women. He assumed Cecilia as well: he had more than one memory of her playing with his hair after they had made love. He pushed the thought away and luckily Henry finally answered.

“I was proud,” he began with a crooked smile. “It is really foolish, but I was extremely proud that I had been able to impregnate her. Not that I had any doubt that I would be able to,” he hurriedly added with a raised eyebrow that told Archie that despite his brother’s self-assured way, this was not a matter that he should tease him with. And he would not; despite the circumstances, he recognized the feeling.