Battle of intentions

3. I prefer the silence

Everyone has a downfall. I had been foolish enough to assume losing my wife would be mine. Perhaps in life one did not only go through one downfall, they seemed like a multiple rack and ruin, one after the other. I should have known this trip would be mine. It's hard to look at someone the same when they hold your son so close to their chest with every intention evident to shield them from all there is. At first, nothing; absolutely nothing stroke me differently about her. She was your typical rural girl, from the length of her dresses to every sense of her identity. She kept to herself, always keeping our conversation at a minimum; as if being in my presence irked her. It made me curious, no woman had ever turned their back on me not even women of colour. Due to Lewis maternal grandparents threatening to take Lou into their care. My mother made it a point to force me into fatherhood. I was prepared for fatherhood but I had imagined it with Anna by my side. Being alone with him scared me. He looked so much like her. Seeing him made me emotional, something I tried so strongly to avoid even at the cost of reckless fornication with any woman offering them self in hindsight... that would take my mind of things for that moment... just for that moment or at least those two minutes before the guilt came back daunting onto me.

"Are we simply going to stare at each other the whole journey?" I asked her. She had not expected me to speak up, raising her head. Her eyes met mine, then quickly looked back at Lou who was soundly asleep. It would take at least 18 hours before we got to our destination. I could not handle the silent treatment not that she ever spoke to me. I figured we could pass time with talks here and there. We were going to visit Anna's parents. They had requested at least one visit a month from Lewis. Lewis being two months old could not exactly go there by himself. This left me and Nora awkwardly sitting opposite each other in a carriage pretending there was nothing more to say. There definitely wasn't and judging by her movements unlike other women she looked repelled by my presence.

"I prefer the silence." She replied, adjusting Lewis blanket. Honestly amazed me, how she acted as if he was her own. Her overprotective and caring instincts. Something, i as the biological father did not have. Perhaps I simply did not bother to put enough effort.

"Tell me Nora...?"

"Yes?" Her voice was as soft as a whisper, almost as if hurting her would be a crime to humanity. There was some sense of innocence in everything she did. It was rare to see.

"You refuse the tutor, I offered. You take any opportunity to not be in my presence and when you're? You prefer to sit in silence. You'd rather excuse yourself when I visit Lou..." I paused eyeing her reaction. "Has my mother said anything to you that I was not aware of?"

She shook her head as a small smile graced her lips. She hardly smiled unless if it was with Lou. Her short hair nicely trimmed and her doll eyes. I felt uncomfortable in my seat. Something in her eyes told me she could read me for filth. It left me in uncomfortable. She could see beneath all that I claimed to be in the public eye.

"Not at all, thank you for the offer but I'd rather not. I'm only here to help you take care of Lewis."

"And you're doing a remarkable job." I complimented, she silently nodded looking away. I knew that meant there would be no response from there after. She never said much unless necessary.

"Do you plan to have kids of your own?" I asked, she seemed surprised by the question.

"I—" she paused. "I honestly wouldn't know, your grace."

"Why wouldn't you? You're blessed with a gentle hand for children anyone can see that."

"Thank you but, I'm not— I've never seen myself as a mother. I adore children from afar but the thought of my own has never crossed my mind."

Well spoken and distant.

I nodded. By the looks of things, she turned to look away as a signal for me to stop being a bother. An end to a conversation that had barely started. I could not tell if she genuinely interested me or the long journey that I dreaded made me desperate for entertainment— any sort.

"Quite odd, every woman, I've met dreams of marrying and being a mother." I added, I could sense her annoyance. She did not like my persistence to keep talking it seemed but I couldn't be bother. I found myself enjoying pestering her. My butler was sat out front with the other two men, more than anything I suddenly enjoyed the alone time.

"Where I come from it's not being a mother. Simply breeding to make your owner more wealthy."

She is smart, but prefers to not speak her mind. I noted to myself.

"Awful.." I muttered under my breath. "What do you think of sexual relationships?"

"I'd never sleep with a man that has not asked for my hand in marriage."

"Things are changing, waiting for marriage—"

"I do not mind waiting, I'm in no rush to commit adultery."

This made me laugh.

She was a virgin, clearly.

"What happens if a proposal never comes?"

"I'm alright with being alone, romance isn't for everyone especially for someone already disadvantaged by their skin colour. Fornication and waiting for a lover is the least of my worries at this moment."

"What are your worries at this very moment?"

"Appreciating this opportunity and not putting it in any sort jeopardy."

Beatrice was wrong, Nora was no threat she seemed clean-handed and down to earth. She did not have any agenda, if anything she did her best to distance herself from me. And for some reason, I found myself being pulled towards her distance. There was a sense of mystery behind her, I did not see myself being sexually attracted to her. When I watched her playing with my son, so carefree. I realised... I respected her enough not to have lustful thoughts about her like every other woman. I had ever came across. I found it hard to imagine anything when she was right in front of me. I could sense her judgement even within her silence.

"Would you like to hold him?" She asked me later that evening. Hesitant, I looked for every excuse in the book but I had none. For the very first time, I held my son with no feeling or sense of loathing.

"That's your dad, Angel." She cooed softly, the little boy wrapped his fingers around her one finger. He was so small and precious. Constantly blinking, he could tell he was in the wrong arms. He cried for Nora, as soon as she held him; he kept still and quiet. I felt disconnected—

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