Celia (A Sinclair Society Novella)

Chapter Five

As soon as the door closed, Horace grabbed my hands. "Do you mean it?" His gaze dropped to my stomach. "You're...sure?"

My instinct was to pull my hands away, but I resisted. "I think by now I know the signs, Horace," I reminded him gently. "I've not consulted a midwife or the doctor, if that is what you're asking. I'm planning to do so once my guests leave."

"We should summon Dr. Winters tomorrow," he said, concern in his eyes. "After last time, it is better to be safe than sorry. Did you really invite company when you knew you were with child?"

This time, I pulled my hands away. "Horace, if you are going to scold me like a child, I will ask you to leave immediately," I informed him. "I'm not some fragile thing that must be handled with care."

Horace gave a huff. "Don't I have a reason to be worried? Last time—"

"This is not like last time." I couldn't exactly say why I believed it, but I did. This baby would survive to be born. "Horace. I will visit Mrs. Perkins, if that makes you feel better, but I will not set the household gossiping by sending for the doctor when there is no need."

After a moment, my husband nodded. "Alright. If you insist," he said. "But I insist you take it easy. Don't play any of the lawn games or go riding, alright? Don't do anything foolish."

Compromise. I could work with that. Nodding, I allowed myself a smile. "I've wanted this for so long," I told him. "It will be you, me, and our baby. We'll be so happy together."

Horace took a step back. "What about my mother?"

We were right back where we'd started. "What about her?"

"I never would have imagined that you were heartless enough to turn her out of her home."

The accusation—because it was an accusation—stung. "Heartless? I'm not the one who is heartless, Horace. Have you forgotten everything I have endured from your mother's tongue?"

"I'm sure—"

"You're sure what?" I interrupted, dangerously close to losing my temper. "You're sure she doesn't mean it? You're sure she will learn to love me like you do? I've been waiting three years for both of those things to be true, and it's clear to me that it won't happen."

I couldn't muster any regret at the astonishment in his expression. "How much longer am I supposed to wait, Horace?" I demanded, pressing the point. "We had to wait two years after we were engaged to get married because you were sure she would come around to the idea."

Color flooded his face. "Celia, that's not..." His voice trailed away as he struggled for words. "You can't expect me to choose between you and my mother."

"Can't I? You married me. You chose me to be your life-long companion. Why wouldn't I expect you to support me when I have trouble?"

Turning away, Horace paced a few steps. "You're right," he said, giving me a moment of hope. "I did choose you, and that's why you can't leave. You're my wife, Celia. You belong here."

I did not like how this conversation was going. "So you're saying you would have me locked up to keep me from leaving."

Horace spun, his expression shocked. "What? No!"

"Well, that's what it sounds like you're saying when you say I can't leave," I told him. "It makes me feel like I am simply a slave and you the master."

Shock shifted to horror. "Celia," Horace said as he came towards me. He crouched down beside my chair. "You know that's not what I intend at all. I'm just trying..."

Again, words seemed to fail him. "Horace, I thought I knew you when we first married," I told him honestly. "But now? I can't say that. You are away more than you are here. You do not listen to me when I tell you that I am struggling. Instead, you tell me to be patient, to be the better person. I do not have the strength to keep doing that."