An Innocent Affair

XLI

"Man, what are you talking about? Me in chains? You may fetter my leg but my will, not even Zeus himself can overpower." Epictetus, The Discourses

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XLI.

Cressie was able to move about more normally in the days that followed, albeit stiffly as the purple bruises appeared on her skin from her fall. She was in a bit of a haze of thick emotions and she was quite certain it would be some time before she would ever truly be able to comprehend just what had happened to her.

But if ever she felt herself being caught up in the gravity of it all, she need only remind herself that she was safe and free, and that she was in this house by her own choice. Never would she choose to leave Jem's side again. And how Jem was patient with her.

One needed to only witness Jem's tenderness to know that he was raised with utter compassion. His nature was to care and protect, and he was why she felt as safe as she did. She loved him completely for it.

Cressie loved Jem for a multitude of reasons. She was still counting the ways. But to be made to feel so safe so soon after such an ordeal was incredible.

Gone was any pretence of propriety. She rarely left Jem's side, and never did at night. Cressie could not have cared less about any sort of scandal. She had taken no notice of that sort of thing, though she had no doubt that her name was being flown around London by the gossips after the scene that had been made on the day Dabney had rendered justice.

Widows traditionally wore mourning attire for an age and certainly did not plan on remarrying within the first year after their spouse's death. Cressie would have remarried within hours if it were possible.

In protest, or rather celebration of her own free will, Cressie was dressed in white, the complete opposite to black.

"My brother and sister wish to dine before we return to Ashwood," Jem told Cressie tentatively. He read from a letter as they ate their breakfast together in the dining room, though his expression was uncertain. "Claire and her husband, Jack, and Peter and his wife, Belle. I can refuse them if you are not ready to receive visitors."

"They're your family," Cressie replied softly, "only ..."

"Only what?" Jem prompted once Cressie had trailed off.

She bit down on her bottom lip nervously. "Have you told them? Have you told them about the baby?" It was highly likely they already knew. It was highly likely half of England knew. Again, Cressie did not care at all what strangers thought of her. But she did care what Jem's family thought. And she knew that he would, too. His family were so proper. His eldest sister was a duchess. Cressie couldn't imagine any of Jem's sisters doing something so shameful as to falling pregnant out of wedlock.

"No, I haven't told them," Jem replied tenderly. He seemed to read Cressie's hesitancy and uneasiness on her face and he took her hand. "But we will," he said encouragingly. "They will be happy for us," he promised. "And they will all love our son or daughter." Jem artfully collected Cressie with a gentle pull to her hand, inviting her into his lap so that he could wrap his arms around her, holding his hands on her stomach protectively.

Cressie nestled into his chest and sighed. "Our son or daughter," she repeated in a whisper. "What would you rather?"

"A girl who looks exactly like you," Jem answered almost immediately, like he'd been thinking about it for a while.

His comment brought a smile to her lips immediately. Cressie wanted a girl as well, but for different reasons. The first was because she knew that there would be less likelihood of interference from the Delaney estate if her child was a girl. Her late prison warden (for she was loathed to call him 'husband'), had proclaimed to the world that she was unfaithful, and so there was little chance of any claim on the child, but she did not want to risk it.