A Solemn Promise

XXII

"Perry," Cecily uttered, stirring her husband from his slumber.

Peregrine's eyes fluttered open lethargically and he turned his head towards the sound of his name. He looked upon Cecily indifferently, and then with a confused expression. He, too, was aware that Cecily had never visited him in his bedroom before.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked drowsily. He tried to sit up a little, but he lacked the core strength.

Cecily immediately stood up and went to him, leaning over him to fetch the pillow from the other side of the bed to help prop him up. "I need to talk to you about Adam," she said quietly. She took a seat on the edge of the bed beside him.

"What about Adam?" Peregrine inquired.

"He's miserable," Cecily stated simply.

Peregrine sucked in a shallow breath as he nodded his head once. "He's tired," he replied. "I know he is. I have been working him hard to prepare him."

"He's not just tired, Perry," Cecily reasoned, frowning sadly. "He is being marched rapidly towards a wife he doesn't love by both of us."

Peregrine stared at her, a true look of shock upon his face. "Well," he said in amazement, "and pigs might fly."

Cecily tsked as she rolled her eyes. "I know that I am not the right person to be discussing felicity in marriage ..."

"No," Peregrine agreed, interrupting her.

Cecily took a breath. "I am sorry, Perry," she said sincerely. "I am truly sorry for how I have behaved towards you in all our years together."

Peregrine looked as though he might have remarked about the pigs again. He had certainly not been expecting an apology from Cecily, nor had she ever believed she would offer one. But he didn't make fun of her. Instead, he uttered, "That is very big of you, Cecily."

"Our son has forced me to reflect upon my life a great deal," Cecily continued. "To think about what it might have been like had I been able to choose."

"Choose someone else, you mean," Peregrine surmised calmly.

Cecily wasn't going to lie. She nodded. "Yes. What might my life have been like had I not been forced into a marriage by my family?" she posed. "What might your life have been like had you had a wife who could love you as you deserve."

Peregrine shook his head. "I do not have any regrets in my life," he informed her. "And like you, I have spent a lot of my time these last months reflecting. While we may not have been a love match, Cecily, I have three children whom I love, and our marriage ensures that I leave them a healthy and strong estate, a legacy for them to be proud of."

"I do not regret our children," Cecily agreed, "even though Jack vexes me more than he pleases me," she added. "I am glad that I became a mother. But I do have regrets, Perry," she said sadly. "I wonder what my life might have been like had I married for love. I know I would not be the hard, cold woman I have become. I know because of how I behaved, you have spent much of our marriage hating me ... and that only made me resent you."

Peregrine pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "I never hated you," he countered, "I never particularly liked you, but I never hated you."

Cecily huffed, for some reason his wording making her smile. "I never made you happy. I could never have made you happy, Perry. I honestly do not know if I could ever make anyone happy again. And I worry for Adam because he is so like me." She watched as Peregrine's eyebrows rose. "That surprises you, doesn't it?" she guessed. "You probably think that Adam is nothing like me. Adam is warm, he is loving, he is caring, he is dedicated and passionate and headstrong. He would go to the ends of the earth for those he loves, and he is exactly like I was when I was a young girl. He does not realise how like his mother he is."