In another life

In another life (one-shot)

Several times a day I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. I'm back at my London townhouse! It feels so good to be wrapped in a soft silky dress, be sprawled in a comfortable armchair, feel the warmth of the fireplace in my bones!

A few weeks after I knocked at Ledford Park's door, Ernest decided that it would be more convenient to come here because of the approach childbirth due date. He hasn't told me yet, but I heard the staff comment the master had hired the best midwife in London to help me.

My heart aches thinking about the days I spent at the women's shelter. I fell into that situation as a result of my bad choices. It was a fair punishment for my vanity and lust. However, that was not the case for most of my housemates. Some of the women I met there were just girls who had been raped by strangers; others had become prostitutes so as not to starve and took refuge there to not have their babies in the middle of the dirty streets.

The thought of childbirth moment sent a shiver down my spine. I remember waking up at dawn with my mother's screams while she was having my younger brother. Despite the nanny's efforts to try to stop me, I managed to peek through the crack in the door. It was a frightening sight. I asked my nanny why mum was in so much pain. "God said to the woman 'I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain, you shall bring forth children.' The pain is the price to pay for the sin," the nanny replied. If the pain is proportionate to the sin, then I will have a great tribulation ahead. However, the memory of my mother nursing my little brother the next day, make the memories of the night before seemed to have been just a bad dream. I remember thinking how a God's punishment could be so cute?

Lost in these thoughts, I drop some stitches from the little boots I'm knitting. This incident reminds me of what is really important - my baby is safe.

A noise draws my attention to the door. Ernest entered the drawing-room with one of his poetry books in hand. Since we arrived in London I had barely seen him. I was aware that he avoided me as much as he could. Nevertheless, and despite all the pain I caused him, Ernest treats me with respect and dignity every time he interacts with me.

"I apologize, my lady. I thought you had already retired to your chambers. I will come back later."

My lady. So formal. So cold. There was a time when the two of us were alone in that private room, he would address me with the endearment term 'Rose' or 'My Rose'.

"No, please, stay. I'm almost finished with this little boot."

Ernest nodded and sat in the armchair where he always used to sit. For a moment, it was like I had travelled back in time and this was a regular Sinclaires evening. Ernest is reading and I knitting or embroidering. Usually, we would talk about our days, the letters we write or receive, comment on some court gossip. And to think there was a time I despised this serene existence.

Soon after, the housekeeper arrived with his tea.

"Would you like to take something, my lady?"

"No, thank you." I smiled.

"You can retire and, please, dismiss the staff. Goodnight, Mrs Lewis." After she left, he addressed me again, "I'll be all day out tomorrow. The midwife and the doctor will visit you before tea time. Please, feel free to ask them anything you need. They have orders to not look at expenses."

I nodded. He opened the book, took a few sips of tea and got immersed in the sonnets.

This was such a familiar sight. I couldn't help but smile. For a moment, I was in another life...in my old sweet life that I had exchanged for an illusion. Ernest caught me staring at him. I blushed like a debutante.