[1.5] The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn | B. Bridgerton

Chapter 18

What Love Makes

Kensington Palace, London

Today was finally the day Charlotte promised herself to tell her husband of her pregnancy. Needless to say, she cannot deny her nervousness for his reaction. It was too soon, it has only been two and a half months since they married. Nonetheless, she stayed as positive and optimistic as she possibly could about his reaction.

Early in the morning, after breakfast, she received a letter from the physician, informing her of his arrival to Kensington Palace an hour before noon. Currently, it was nine o'clock in the morning. Truth be told, the Duchess wanted to wait to tell her husband until the physician confirmed everything was going great with her unborn child, and if he had answers for her feeling so unwell.

At the moment she was in something she called 'The Crown Room', which had all tiaras, diadems and crowns meant for her to wear. It even has the ones she has worn ever since she was a little girl. The exact reason of why she was in that room, was because she was staring at the crown George used when he became 'The Prince of Wales', and the crown she wore at the luncheon her mother threw when she named her 'The Princess Royal'. That crown she wore was gifted by her former betrothed, Frederick, months before he died. They were engaged since they were too little, an arranged marriage by their parents, which ended in a way neither of them expected.

Charlotte's life has not been the brightest, nor the most perfect of them all as most people assume, but she always finds comfort in imagining or thinking of a better future for herself and her family. Especially now, her own family.

Would the child have his dark brownish hair, or hers that is a little brighter? Would the child's skin be as lighter as the father's, or a bit darker like the mother's? Would the child share both parent's deep blue eyes, or would he or she share the brownish color of the rest of their families? Would the child look just like Benedict, or just like her?

These were a few of the many questioned that kept Charlotte's mind wide awake.

"What are we looking at?" Benedict questioned, and his wife flinched in surprise for his presence. She didn't realize he walked in the room.

"Good Lord," she sighed as she turned around and faced him. "I was looking at mine and my brother's crowns."

"Is that one of your many tiaras?" He questioned, and she chuckled softly.

"Well yes," his wife explained. "But George's is obviously a crown. A crown is always a full circle, while a tiara is sometimes only semi-circular. Crowns are also usually larger—and taller—than tiaras."

"Oh," he raised his eyebrows. "They look the same to me."

Charlotte chuckled as she hugged his right arm. She rested her head on his arm and continued to stared at the two crowns in front of them, the ones she earlier took out of their wooden box. On the other hand, Benedict was looking at her, longingly, with a goofy smile, and sighed contently before turning back to the two crowns in front of him. It reminded them both of that time in Somerset House, when they were staring at one of Henry Granville's paintings together.

"What are you doing here?" Her husband wondered.

"I was looking at them. And I couldn't help but wonder..." The smallest of smiles graced her face. "Would our future child be a boy and become the Prince of Wales like George? Or would it be a girl and become the Princess Royal like me?"