Proper Princess

Chapter Fourteen

"You know, I do believe I understand why you feasted here," Robert told me, nibbling on some of the cheese he had fetched from the hors d'oeuvre table at the Festival before coming to meet me at the carriage. We were seated on the ground, using the block of wood on the first floor as a table, just as I had expressed I used to do with the other street-children. "There is nothing like a wooden block to make one feel like a King."

I laughed, breaking off a bit of bread. "Our very own rusting palace. Truly, in my childhood, this was the very happiest place."

As we fell into silence, I heard it- the sound I had loved so much in my youth. "Shh. Listen, Robin."

"Am I simply Robin to you, now?"

"Shhh!"

As we fell silent, the sound of the rain against the tin roof became more obvious, and I felt my whole body relax further. The wealthier families- including mine- avoided tin roofing for the exact reason of it being too loud in the showers that often sprinkled London. But I had missed the gentle thrumming dearly. "I think that is perhaps my favorite sound in the entire world."

Robert stared at me, a slight smile playing on his lips. "You are so pleased by the simplest of things."

"Is it not the simple things that should please us?" I asked, trying to play off the fact that I was a bit worried he may think me too sentimental. "If I am constantly awaiting the next ball or party, I shall live a life of want rather than contentment. And contentment is all I want in life."

He looked agreeable, at least. "You are very wise, Amelia. Tell me- what else pleases you?"

For a moment, I was taken aback by his question, unsure of what sort of answer he was searching for. As I took in the interest in his gaze , though, I found myself understanding. Was I not also curious about such things? Was that not why I had remembered that bluebells were his favorite flower, why I had told Elizabeth to ask if he preferred to sit for tea or take a stroll- out of genuine curiosity?

He wanted to know me in the same way I wanted to know him.

"I like books," I finally answered after some thought. He leaned in closer, as if worried he may miss something. "Not just reading them, though- the smell of them. The sound as you turn a page. The texture of the paper under my fingers. And I love weeping willows- the way the sun comes through them. And my family- not in the way that you have seen them, but in the way they truly are. Thomas' protective and guiding nature. Elizabeth's willfulness. Michael's mischievousness. I love when they are all home, and I can hear Thomas speaking to Mother, and Michael laughing with John, and Elizabeth playing the piano, and feel Miss Lancing's fingers braiding my hair all at once."

"You are close with your family," Robert noted.

I smiled at the thought of them- it was so much easier to appreciate those I loved when I knew what it was like to have nobody at all. "What else have we got in this world?"

"Would you like children?" Robert said the words so abruptly that I thought he must have said it aloud unintentionally. This was confirmed when he rushed to correct himself. "Not now, of course. But one day, when you are wed. Would you prefer a peaceful life where you can hear the rain against the roof, or the hustle and bustle of a large family with many children?"

His question reminded me of several weeks before, when Elizabeth had scolded me for even bringing up the question of children. She had asked if I was mad to bring such a thing up, but I thought it to be a valid matter of discussion.

So often, the world that we lived in told women that they must have children. It determined their worth, and a male heir was almost a requirement for a man of noble birth. To not secure an heir was an immense embarrassment for a man of such standing.

But did I want children? Was Motherhood something I longed for within itself?

"I think I would like children," I finally said. It had taken me several minutes to reach this conclusion, and Robert did not rush me.

"How many?"

I exhaled, trying to tally in my mind. "As many as I can manage, I suppose. I do like children. And I love how busy and playful and alive my own home is. I think that is what I would like in my future- children running about and laughing and playing. My childhood with Elizabeth and John was a happy one."

I considered for a few moments longer, and Robert seemed to be alright this, for he did not speak. Finally, I came to a decision. "I would like many children. And I would also like to adopt."

Robert nodded, and I grew anxious when he did not answer. The idea of us having children together was outlandish, of course- he was still formally courting my sister, for goodness sakes!

And yet, I still pressed him. "What do you think of it?"

He turned to look at me. "I would like a large family, too. And though it is not common among nobility, I believe I would like to be a big part of my child's life. My parents passed away when I was still quite young myself, and it is only after losing them that I realized how much I wished I had spent more time with them in life. I do not wish for my children to have the same regrets."

"I'm sorry," I said, genuinely remorseful that I had pushed the subject now that I could hear the grief in his voice. "It must have been very hard for you to lose them so young."

Robert looked away from me for the first time. "Hard? Why, I hardly knew them. You are lucky to have such a wonderful family, Amelia. Your children shall be just as lucky."

His hand twitched towards mine, and though he still was not looking directly at me, I could see the question there. So I reached my own hand forward, looping my fingers through his. And despite the seriousness of the conversation, just that little touch brought a smile to both of our faces.

********************

As much as I wished to simply halt time, I knew that it was impossible. Our conversations melted away into hours, and I knew that if I stayed any longer, I would be unable to come up with a reasonable excuse as to where I had been.

"Drop me off just outside the gate, if you will," I requested of Robert. We had yet to let go of each other's hands, dreading the moment we would be pulled apart and again have to return to the stifling rules of society and play the role of courter and sister to the courtee.

Robert glanced at me once more, standing to lead me to the door of the Factory. "Amelia, how am I to know you made it into the school if I do not see you inside?"

I met his eyes as we ducked back through the low hole in the door, mock exasperation on my face. "Robin, how am I to tell Father I have been on the grounds the entire time if he sees me climbing out of your carriage that has long-since not been on the grounds?"

He frowned. "Very well- but I shall park just down the road, we shall walk to the gate together, and I shall watch from just behind the shrubs until you are brought inside."

Despite the fact that I often found the overprotective nature of those around me irritating, there was something so endearing about his concern. "Alright. But if I am attacked, do not step in- I should like to have my moment to shine as I thwart a crime."

Robin rolled his eyes, though I could see his amusement. "I wouldn't dare, My Lady."

"Why thank you, My Robin."

His eyes softened a bit. "Your Robin, is it? I think that may be my favorite nickname thus far."

I smiled at him, wondering how in the world I had allowed things to go so far. I was in over my head- but there was no turning back. The desire I felt for this man was no longer a simple crush- it was a gripping passion, a thrilling romance, and sweet fondness all at once.

But was it love? That, I did not know, and felt too foolish and girlish and embarrassed to examine that question too deeply.

That was not enough to stop me, though, from leaning forward, landing a chaste kiss to his lips just before I hopped out of the carriage, hurrying away so I would not have to endure the embarrassment of facing his reaction to my bold action.

And though I never looked to see his reaction, I knew that the mindless grin was still on my own face, and that my lips still tingled from where they had so briefly pressed against his. So I could only hope that he felt the same.