Freedom in Marriage: A Southern Historical Romance ✅

Chapter Twelve

**This has not been edited or proofread.**

Easton

The front door swung open, and my brother swept into the house with Jack right behind him. Catherine had stopped crying about fifteen minutes ago, but she was silent—completely unresponsive. I didn't know what to do, and I hated it. I hated this lost feeling. I hated not being able to console my wife—the woman I was falling madly in love with.

I was already failing in my duties as a husband, and that didn't sit well in my gut.

"Catherine," Jack breathed. Immediately, he rushed over, tossing his hat on the table in front of us. Crouching, he ran his hand over her hair. "Tell me what's wrong, and I'll fix it. I swear."

She swallowed thickly, and with trembling lips, she turned her head to look at me. I tightened my hold on her. "Would you like for me to tell him?" I quietly asked.

Sniffling, she nodded. Even with bloodshot eyes and red, tear-stained cheeks, she was still the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid my eyes on. And I was so lucky to call her my wife, even if I wasn't being the best husband in the world at the moment.

At least, that was how it felt.

I blew out a soft breath. "Your sister is with child," I quietly told Jack. "And she's not taking it well."

He settled onto the couch next to us and held her hands in his. "You've always wanted to be a mother, Catherine. What is going on?"

"We didn't discuss this." Her voice trembled. She looked at me, her eyes filled with worry. "You have your sisters and your mother to take care of. A baby—"

"God," I rasped, squeezing her to me and burrowing my face in her hair. "This is what you've been working yourself up over?" I asked into her hair. She hiccupped and nodded, curling her fingers into my shirt. "Sweetheart, I was so happy about this when the doctor announced it. But then you burst into tears, and I didn't know what to think."

She moved her head, and I lifted mine, letting her look up at me. "You mean that?" she croaked.

I nodded. "Yes, love, I mean that. I want it all with you. That includes children of our own."

"Sis," Jack sighed, and her cheeks colored as she turned to look at him, "you've got to learn to communicate better. Your husband was panicking."

She flushed even more and burrowed her face in the curve of my neck. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

I rubbed my hand down her side. "Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart," I assured her.

Jack gently squeezed her hands. "Are you okay now?" he asked her. When she nodded, he released them, setting them gently on her lap before standing to his feet. "I need to head back home, but if you need me again, sister, just reach out, okay?"

She lifted her head from my neck, nodding at him. "I will. Thank you for coming, Jack."

He bent over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I will come back tomorrow to see how you're doing. Just rest. Ethan said you've been very sick. You need to take care of yourself."

She nodded again. "I will," she promised him.

~*~*~

Days passed before the cook managed to find a tea that kept Catherine's nausea at bay. It was delivered to our room early in the morning with a slice of toast, and she would recline back in our bed with pillows propped behind her while she had her morning tea and bread. After an hour longer of relaxing in bed, I would help her dress. The housemaids didn't like it, but Catherine relished in the extra attention I was giving her.