Contrite & Convicted

Unreachable Part I

Unreachable Part I

~Two Months Later~

Early March

Anthony sat in the carriage once more towards King's Cross, his destination once more the homes where he would once again collect taxes. The King's work was simply never done. His companion once more the empty carriage seat in front of him. With a book he has read more than once already.

The random bumps and turns sent his stomach in a whirl as he once more made the trek north. The winter snow caused a delay on a trip he had already expected to be over last week. It was infringing on his plans for this month. Spring was coming and he was not proud to have to share his time to prepare for his new family while collecting taxes.

The only comfort he had for this trip was after its completion he was able to go home. His twins were due any day now and they had been taking their sweet time in arriving. The only thing saving him from insanity was the sheer fact that Ester had not mentioned divorce since their...altercation but the idea was looming in her mind, he could tell.

"HALT!" The footman called outside, Anthony poked his head out of the window to see what the hold up was. However the sight was not one he wished to have seen. Deciding to step out of the carriage to assess the damage of the flooded bridge he crossed his arms and gave a disappointing huff.

"We know 'use been wanting to see yer lady, sir. With da rain it's warshed the bridge t'way. We have ta stay here till its clear." Anthony sighed once more and accepted the fact he was never going to get home to see his children be born.

"There is no way around the bridge I suppose?" Anthony said, looking down at the rushing river. It's murky water and bubbling brooke fast enough to sweep a carriage off its wheels. The depths of the river are unknown. However, if it was high enough to flood a bridge it must have been high.

"Nah sir." Anthony nodded.

"We set up camp here. It's not the best accommodations but we will have to make do. The town we passed is nearly half a day's ride and the storm coming through is one we won't make it back to dry land for."

The footman nodded and moved the carriage off the path, setting up tents for themselves and helping fix the seats to turn into a bed. A smart idea Anthony's father came up with for his tax collection runs.

The men and Anthony had only used this arrangement once or twice but that was plenty of time for them.

Anthony looked rather dismally upon his life these past few months. Here he sat in his carriage room, the twilight sky quickly turning to night. He spent his life, if not under the stars in old and worn out bars.

Rickety inns and many churches. He felt his life wasn't how he wanted it to be, he wasn't  how he wanted to be. Ester asking for a divorce only reminded him of that solitary fact.

A wife he loved and wanted to cherish that he just kept tearing down. He was hoping when his twins were born that they would be welcomed into a happy family, with Daphne's son or daughter close behind in age to become a good cousin/friend.

Instead his children would be born with a mother who hated their father, who wanted a divorce and into an unhappy uncertain world. King George was just another impending topic that filled his mind with woes.

No man liked the idea of a rocky leadership in the country they lived in. Let alone have the same unease and question luring in their own home. Destruction waiting for him at every corner. His cheek still stung from the memorable slap Ester bestowed on him.

The only joy this week provided him was Benedict was supposed to meet him at his next stop, hopefully he brought only good news. Ester was in her confinement as his babies were do any day now. It both excited and terrified him, the news of being a father.

His own father was none less than a role model but already Anthony was short of the line where Edward Bridgerton sat.

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Ester couldn't take one more day of this incessant confinement. No one to talk to, no books to read or pictures to draw. She just sat there every day counting the floral pattern in her sheets and bed drapes. 158 on the left, 158 on the right, 48 in the middle and 789 golden tassels all the way around. It was quite sexist that while she was huddled in her room, Anthony was free to do, say and act however he liked.

Here she sat waiting for her impending doom. With the ever repeating question in her mind will I even survive this labor? Many women fell into death's doorstep giving birth to one baby, let alone two!?

The idea sent her straight into the worst parts of her mind. She couldn't let herself think like this. Not to mention when she did have company it was only a servant who came when she was asleep to bring by and collect her food.

As well as the physician. The man came everyday to poke, prod, pester and penetrate her with tools, ointments, advice and equipment. It was rather annoying and she merely wanted to force her labor so that this torture could be over with!

Being a woman was horrible sometimes. Eloise, the dear thing would come by sometimes and sit outside her door and chat with her when no one was home, or play her violin for her. Gregory would slide pictures he drew with Hyacinth under the crack of the door as well.

It warmed her lonely heart. Daphne would try to come by and talk loudly down the hall so Ester could hear her too. How kind they were to know that after being here for two weeks was pure horror.

Any day now would her babies be born...any day.

I AM so sorry this chapter is so short, there is a dry spell in my plot that falls here and I honestly couldn't leave you all hanging on an update so this is all I have before everything goes out of control. Please forgive me for the horridly short chapter!

thequeen2375