I didn't fall asleep right away; I lay thinking about our strategy. The enemy was moving in, and the next move was to go to war if they didn't surrender. I needed to stay and raise a family with my wife, but if she refused, I had no other choice but to find solace in another woman.
I gave an involuntary shiver when I felt her finger trace my scars. So she wasn't asleep either. Was she thinking the same thing I was?
I shifted so I facing her, searching her eyes.
"I'm ready." She whispered, and I knew she was talking about having a family now.
"Are you sure?" I leaned over her. She nodded, and I removed her clothing, slowly taking her. I tried to be gentle, but she gasped when I entered her. I saw tears fall, and I kissed them away.
I could tell she was surprised my my gentle manner, and I tried to please her.
She gripped my arms when I fell atop her. I kissed her neck, and she ran her hands down my back.
"For you're sake, it had better be a boy." I told her. She shivered.
"And what if its a girl?" She challenged.
"Time will tell." I told her, and rolled to the side, tucking her against my chest.
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I awoke early in the morning, just after sunrise. Emmalyn was already up, I could tell by the smell wafting through the house. I yawned, and got up.
Dressing in the mended shirt and pants, I made my way downstairs. She was standing over the stove, wearing a yellow dress and an apron.
"I could get used to this, only with little children running around." I sat down at a chair and watched her.
She turned casually.
"What if I can't bear children?" She asked me, honestly.
The question threw me off. "Well, I married you for your sense of class and the fact that you are young and can bear many children." I stood and walked over to her.
"And forgive me, for I have not yet said good morning." I cupped the back of her neck and leaned in to kiss her.
And for once, she kissed back.
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Three months passed without word from the general, but
Emmalyn made herself busy with the maids while I talked to my general.
"I'm afraid the enemy is not retreating. We must go." Roberto said, sitting down.
"When?" I asked, pacing the floor of my study.
"Two weeks." He said cautiously.
"How long will we be gone?" I asked, staring out the window.
"Hard to tell. If the enemy does not retreat, months." He stood.
"My wife is expecting soon. You cannot expect me to leave her!" I slammed my fist down on the table, and the glass top broke under my hand.
"Put that anger into war, and we will surely win." He said, before hurrying out.
"Damn." I cursed, lifting my bleeding hand.
I heard a feeble knock, and Emmalyn walked in. She hurryed over.
"Are you alright?" She asked, gingerly taking my hand in hers. She led me to the powder room and rinsed my hand in the basin.
I sat while she wiped my hand clean of blood and glass and wrapped it cloth.
"What got you so angry?" She asked, tying the cloth in a tight manner.
I sat there, thinking of how to tell my expecting wife that I was going to war.
She kneeled before me. "Conan? Are you feeling all right?" She placed her hands on my face.
"We're going to war." I finally said, and her hands dropped into my lap. I grabbed them.
"You musn't fret, my dear. I leave in two weeks, and the enemy is retreating. They're about to surrender. I'm sure of it." I stood up, pulling her close.
"You needn't worry about me."
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Training became more intense, and every day became a struggle for most. I was training a recruit when the general pulled me aside.
"Your wife is ill." He told me, and I rushed home. There was a carriage in front, I assumed it was the doctor. I rushed inside and saw the maids standing at the edge of the stairs.
"Dr. McClean wished to speak to you in private." One maid, Elisabyth said, nodding to the stairs. I hurried past her and up the stairs. Dr. McClean was standing outside the room.
"I'm afraid there's been some trouble." He said, leading me farther away from the door. "I believe you're wife lost the baby." He bowed his head.
"Explain this to me, Doctor." I urged, angry.
"It's quite common in women her age, although her body has adjusted and matured, stress is a main factor, causing her to miscarry."
"Tell me, what was it?" I was itching to yell.
"Too early to tell." He replied solemnly, and left me standing in the hallway for quite some time. I heard his carriage pull away, and the door to our room opened. A maid, I think her name was Gertrude, hurried out carrying a tray.
She turned when she saw me. "Oh, sir! The missus would like to see you. She thinks you haven't shown up yet." And she turned and hurried down the stairs.
I turned to the door, which was cracked. I stepped inside and saw Emmalyn lying on her side with a washcloth draped over her forehead. She saw me and tried to sit up.
"I thought you weren't coming. I was so worried that-" She started, but a sob escaped.
I stood at the door, seething. "I needed you to do one thing, and you couldn't even do that." I shouted at her. She shrank against the pillows.
"I need you by my side." She said so low I almost couldn't hear.
"That's a poor excuse." I shouted once more, and stalked out, slamming the door behind me. I was furious, partly at her for losing my son, and partly at myself for being harsh.
I don't know how long I sat in my study, but I heard a door creak open. I looked at the time, it was too late for the maids to be here. That must mean Emmalyn got up, even though she's supposed to be on bedrest. I got up and opened my door.
She was trying to walk down the stairs, carefully taking one step at a time. Her white nightgown was bunched in one hand, while the other hand kept her steady on the banister. She finally reached the bottom, and she slowly made her way to the kitchen.
Puzzled, I followed her. I saw her bending over the stove, her arms steadying her.
"Emma, what are you doing?" I asked, though gently, she jumped.
"It...has occured to me...that I have not made dinner yet." She breathed. Still wincing, she made her way to the pantry and began to pull food out. I walked over to her, pulling the items from her hands and setting them back.
"I can go one night without anything." I told her, gently embracing her. She fell into me, her hands twisting into my shirt. We sank to the floor, me rocking her gently. I don't know how long we sat there, but she finally went to sleep. I carried her upstairs to the bedroom and gently placed her on the cool sheets.
I kissed her damp forehead before drifting off beside her.
