Before She Ruled (Before Series, Book 1)

Chapter Seven

"Theodore, are you even listening to me?" his sister asked in a huff, noticing how distracted he was—distracted by a pounding headache and a guilty conscience, only amplified now with the awareness that he was barely acknowledging his only living family member.

"Hm?" he responded, hating himself just a tad for the barely-there reply.

To make matters worse, the door swung open with a decidedly conspicuous motion, revealing a tray of tea carried by a frazzled brunette. Addie looked as though she would rather clean the dirt off his floors than serve them their tea at this moment.

He could not blame her. He didn't particularly want her serving them tea either. Something about it felt...wrong. And it didn't help his distracted state. Theo forced himself to look away from her and back to Emilia.

The look he received upon turning to his sister was less than delighted—one might even consider it a scowl. But Emilia waited to say anything further until Addie had finished arranging the tray, and then softly dismissed her, allowing the two of them to prepare their own tea. Theo busied himself with the act, forgoing the cream to reach for the sugar bowl. Using silver tongs that likely cost more than some men's monthly allowance, Theo selected two sugar cubes to indelicately plop into his tea.

He set about stirring the tea three times before bringing it to his lips.

"I am listening, Emilia," he prompted her before he took a sip of the hot liquid.

"Why, yes, now you are," she replied, clearly vexed. With an elongated sigh, she continued. "I know you really do not wish to speak of finding a wife, but I must press the idea upon you, brother."

"And why is that?"

"Your years are increasing in number, or did you not realize? It is what typically occurs on your birthday each year."

"Oh, come off it, Emilia. I am not that old."

Emilia leaned in conspiratorially. "I believe I saw a grey hair in all that golden mess just a day past."

"You did not," Theo argued, though he didn't truly care.

"I would wager there is more than one. You do not have dark hair, so they would not be as easily spotted."

Theo couldn't help but smile at his little sister when he said, "Enough, Emilia. Why is it really that you wish me married?"

But she only shrugged.

"Surely there is a reason you are hounding me on my aging years."

"Well," she hedged, "I do think it is past time. Do you not want children? An heir?"

"I am not sure," Theo replied honestly.

"You would be a splendid father, Theo. And a few children running around would certainly liven this place up a bit." She glanced wistfully around the room, and it struck Theo what she was really on about.

"Emilia, are you sure it isn't you who would like children?"

She blushed, but spoke matter-of-factly, as if what she was saying made the most sense in the world. "Well, yes, but that ship has sailed. So now I am prevailing on you to provide me with an abundance of nieces and nephews." Emilia glanced at him with a pert, expecting smile.

"My dear, you cannot rely on others to provide you with what you truly want."

Her smile faltered.

"Even if I were to get married and have ten children, they would never be enough for you. You want your own children, a family."

The teacup Emilia was holding shook slightly in her hands, and she set it down unceremoniously. The crash of porcelain against porcelain made her jump, and Theo felt bad for speaking so bluntly. Not sure if it would help or not, he added softly, "Your ship has not sailed. It is merely waiting for you to find the courage to get on. I will escort you to every ball London has to offer so you can find a husband."