A Scandalous Entanglement

XLIV

FOUR YEARS LATER;

Devyn stared out the window. The sun's rays poured into the massive room of his study and if he stared hard enough, he could tell of the dust mites that danced around hypnotizing him into a slow dizzy trance. Mid July had brought in so many profits, so much so that he had even registered Cornsdorf as a trade market in all of England which in turn had brought in more money than expected as well as various people seeking employment. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he was grateful that he was able to provide and settle all those lost to the mine incident and even provide his townsfolk with better working conditions, at least working with corn and all other produce Cornsdorf generated was safer than under hazardous health conditions the men had been exposed to while working in the mine.

Though that didn't mean he had given up on the mine.

He leaned back in his chair, the view from his study was one truly remarkable though he couldn't deny it, sometimes it felt as though Emilia was about her day planting flowers all over the place.

Emilia.

His heart broke for the hundredth time that day cursing him for having have let her go, for having have failed her. The days were long and the nights longer. It felt as though an eternity ago he had held her in his hands and danced with her to the sway of the music even though that evening had been one of ill fate. He could still remember the feel of her hands and the softness of her skin. Her body of sweet honey and milk, her full lips, and her mesmerising eyes.

And a baby, one that could have been theirs. A perfect innocent little human that had to be taken because he had acted a fool. Played the part and role of a fool. Allowed her go like the fool he was.

He didn't deserve her.

"Ruin it and I will have your head on a platter!" The screech came from a floor below. "You dull-witted fool! Are you that dense in the head. Lift it up for godsake!"

He sighed and turned to the last page, the very last entry Emilia had written in her journal, and though he had read the piece of paper over a thousand times, he couldn't help his eyes as they skimmed across the words on the page.

My dearest Emilia,

The beauty of motherhood one was never prepared for are the pains and constant strains. The cries of agony as I feel my body being torn from inside. The midwives said I will be fine,- that these things happen and yet I feel tired by the hour, short of breath by the minute and ever so dizzy by the second with each passing day. And this baby, this baby I feel in my stomach, my little babe that won't survive this cruel loveless world all alone on its own. The physician came by today and he had me checked and even with his reassuring smile I could tell of the pains in his eyes, the knowledge that either I or this baby will not make it and I am scared,- more so sacred for myself than I am for this baby.

I do not want to die, yet again I can already feel the sickness in my body.

I am slowly losing life,

And I am sore afraid.

This babe won't make it either.

The soft knock distracted him enough to look up at the small figure that popped its head through. "May I come in?" She had chocolate smuggled all over her mouth and a few mud stains on the knees of her dress. "You are always welcomed in my darling." As gently as she could she closed the door behind her careful not to slam her fingers in the process. "What are you doing?" Her curious eyes looked up at him and he helped her settle down comfortably on his lap. "I was just reading something and what were you doing?"

Her small fingers run through the cursive that was Emilia's handwriting before remarking. "You always read this book. Can I read it one day papa?" A swell took hold of his heart.

A child they could have had together.

"You know I do not appreciate it when you skip your classes." She sighed before looking out the window admiring the beauty of horses that grazed on the fields. "I know papa, but the weather is warm, I want to play outside. Can you play with me? Mother has not time for me."

Devyn's eyes involuntarily settled on the small plots Emilia used to plant her flowers on before voluntarily reading the last lines of her journal he had read one too many times.

Till I see you once again,

Emilia Bronnot,

1730.

THE END.

♤♤

So this is it, another completed book!

Thank you so much for reading!! Love ya'll lotsss.