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41: Making an impression
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Promised to the father, married to the son 42: How they met
*Ben* “So how did you meet her?” Nick asks. “She’s not familiar to me.” He, Tom, and I are sitting in chairs near the fireplace in the library, glasses of scotch in hand. Skye has taken the women to the morning room for a spot of tea. My father had claimed to be in need of a nap, although I suspect he is playing with the children in the nursery. I won’t feel guilty because my father seems to take such delight in the little ones and I have yet to provide him with an heir. “Know every woman in New York, do you?” “Quite a few, yes.” As a bachelor, Nick had been the most promiscuous among us, but to be fair, he had never expected to marry. Then he fell in love with his brother’s widow and that was that. “So she’s from New York?” Tom asks. “She traveled from New York. Her family lives in Washington.” I give Nick a pointed look. “Sinclair?” “Not familiar with the name.” I grimace. “Actually Sinclair is probably her married name. I don’t know her family name.” “Bit odd that,” Tom mus
Promised to the father, married to the son 43: Impressed
*Ben* I can’t remember ever being with a woman who makes my chest swell with pride. I had certainly not expected it of Skye when I married her, but then nothing about my marriage to her is as I predicted. Well, except for what passes in the bedchamber. I had judged her abilities correctly there. But I didn’t anticipate that she would be an outstanding hostess. During dinner, the food was splendid, the wine excellent, and the conversation pleasant. It didn’t matter who was discussed, Skye was familiar with them not personally but based on their exploits captured in the tabloids and news. She has mentioned before that she reads them, but now I am beginning to think the woman devours them. I make a mental note to begin having some delivered from New York. I also need to order some more recent music sheets. The ones my wife now uses to entertain us in the music room are remnants from my mother. Skye seems perfectly content with them, but I do wonder what sort of music she would prefer
Promised to the father, married to the son 44: Feeling ill
*Ben* Since we have guests, apparently Skye has instructed Mrs. Dorset to prepare a variety of breakfast offerings to be set on the sideboard so everyone can take whatever they fancy. I can’t fault the variety, finding it rather nice not to be saddled with the cook’s plated offering based on her mood. Everyone is here, including my father; everyone except Skye. Her absence surprises me, because I expected her to be the first at the table to ensure everything meets her expectations and to greet our guests. On the other hand, I hadn’t been able to resist having her again this morning before preparing for the day. After assisting me with dressing, she returned to the bed as she always does ‘for just a few more minutes’. I have no doubt worn her out. As a husband, I am a cad. Not that she seems to mind. “How long are you all staying ?” I ask now, trying not to think of the mines and how I am anxious to get back to them. “Only until tomorrow”. Tom says. “We wanted to welcome your wif
Promised to the father, married to the son 45: Telling him
*Ben* I wait as long as I can. When the ladies don’t return straightaway to inform me that all is well, I head upstairs and barge into the bedchamber without bothering to knock. That Minerva and Julia are sitting on either side of Skye, holding her hands, causes cold dread to wash over me. While I have never witnessed a deathbed scene, what I see is exactly how I imagine it would be. Skye’s cheeks hold no rosy hue. Her eyes don’t light up with challenge at my arrival. My father likes Skye immensely. I don’t know if my sire would survive losing her if she is to succumb to an illness and become another woman who has died too young within this residence. “I’ll send for a physician,” I bark, despising that I seem unable to react with any sort of rational thought. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Minerva says, rising to her feet, smiling softly. The smile unmans me. “What’s wrong with her then?” “We’ll let her tell you.” As Minerva and Julia walk out, I try to take solace in the fa
Promised to the father, married to the son 46: An heir, maybe
*Skye* Marsden’s reaction is exactly the sort that any woman would want. He is ecstatic. I am certain that if he had his clothes as well tailored to fitting his body as his son does, then his buttons would have popped off his waistcoat when Ben announces in the music room that evening following dinner that I am with child. I am surprised everyone has held the news to themselves, but I suppose they wanted a wonderful moment for Marsden. “Bravo!” He exclaims, lifting his glass of scotch. “I knew it wouldn’t take you long, my dear”. I have been noticing changes for some time now, lacking energy in the afternoons, my stomach feeling a bit queasy in the mornings, but I had kept it all to myself because it felt far too early to announce a baby was on the way. Even now, I am not quite comfortable with it, but Minerva and Julia forced my hand. I am most surprised by Ben’s reaction. His mother’s death has obviously affected him more than I realized, no doubt more than anyone thinks. I sens
Promised to the father, married to the son 47: Collapse
*Skye* May arrives with warmer weather than usual. I can’t bear the thought of cleaning rooms when I can enjoy the sun warming my face. Kneeling, inhaling deeply, I take satisfaction in the fragrance of freshly turned earth. Except for a brief respite for lunch, I have spent the day working on bringing the garden back to life. The next time we have guests, I want to be able to invite them for tea on the terrace. So earlier this morning, once Ben left for the mines, I went into the village, visited with those who have gorgeous flowers blooming, and asked for some cuttings from their favorite plants. I have never been the beneficiary of such generosity from strangers, and I left feeling as though I were accepted by the villagers, as though I truly belong here. Then when I returned to the house I set the servants to work. The servants and stable boys are making great progress hacking at the brambles and overgrowth. The maids are pulling up the unwanted vegetation. Marsden, bless him,
Promised to the father, married to the son 48: Back home
*Ben* I sink down into the hot water. Trapped inside the mine, surrounded by darkness, thoughts of Skye provided a light for my soul as I encouraged the other five men entombed with me to work to dig themselves out. I had never contemplated not finding freedom, never considered death as an avenue for escape, because it would have kept me from her. When I came out of the mine and saw her rushing toward me, the joy that spiraled through me had been unsettling. She is coming to mean too much, and yet I can’t quite push back the emotions, no matter how dangerous or risky to my sanity they may be. Love was not in the cards, I still do not want it to be, but I am not longer sure that I have any control over what cards I am being dealt. Now hearing the door open, I glance back over my shoulder. I shouldn’t be so grateful for Skye’s arrival, but damn if I am not. “I thought you could use a drink,” she says as she hands me a glass filled with amber liquid. “Indeed I could.” I swall
Promised to the father, married to the son 49: New York
*Skye* A month later, as the car rolls into New York, I fight to keep my apprehension hidden. Long, slow, deep breaths have been the order of the journey. As well as a mantra commanding myself to relax. It is highly unlikely that I will cross paths with Montie, that he will discover I returned. And if he does, it is possible that he wouldn’t care after all these months. He has no doubt forgotten all about me, moved on to someone else. He has never been one to do without and he likes nothing more than a woman’s company. In order not to forgo pleasure, he would have replaced me quickly enough. I am rather certain of that fact, as I no longer have any delusions regarding what I had meant to him: nothing particularly special. In truth, Ben makes me feel more treasured than Montie ever had. “Where did you live?” At the unexpected question disturbing the quiet, I jerk my attention to my husband, who sits across from me. We have spoken very little during the journey, which suited me, as
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