R. Mathewson - Truce: The Historic Neighbor from Hell

              “How exactly am I responsible for your terrifying appetite?” she asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

              “If I recall correctly,” he said, shifting her slightly in his arms so that he could safely navigate the poorly lit staircase with her in his arms, “you cursed me and all my future heirs.”

              She gasped. “I did no such thing!” she said, even though it did kind of sound like something that she would do.

              “You certainly did, minx,” Robert said, chuckling as he carried her down the back hallway, towards the kitchen.

              “Well, I’m sure that you did something to deserve it,” she said with feigned haughtiness that had him grinning as he turned and pushed the kitchen door open with his back.

              “I buried all your dolls in the pig’s pen,” he said, chuckling as he carefully set her down on her feet.

              “You really were a horrid child,” she said with a smile as she walked away from him and began to search through the cupboards, wondering what she’d done to make Robert do something so cruel. It was probably something much worse than what he’d done to her, she thought with a satisfied sigh.

              “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” Robert said as he quickly lit more candles as well as several oil lamps so that they could see what they were doing.

              As she quickly scanned what was available to them, she decided that eggs, ham and fresh biscuits would probably be the easiest thing for her to make. Decision made, she told him what she needed as she did her best to ignore her stomach’s growling demands.

              Robert shot her an amused smile that she chose to ignore as she started on the biscuits. By the time she had the dough made and ready to rise, she was ravenous and considering skipping this step and simply cutting the biscuits and baking them, uncaring that they would end up flat. The only reason that she hesitated in doing just that was Robert. She’d bragged that she made the best biscuits and now she wanted to prove it. But, she was so hungry and she wasn’t sure that she was going to be able to wait until-

              “Here,” Robert said as he placed a small platter overflowing with cheese, bread and cut ham in front of her.

              “Thank you,” she barely murmured as she started to attack the food.

              “You’re welcome,” he said with a chuckle as he helped himself to the food.

              For several minutes they sat there eating in comfortable silence while she kept an eye on the dough. It was actually rather nice, she thought just before Robert had to go ahead and ruin it.

              “I think we should talk.”

              “I know,” Elizabeth agreed with a small sigh as she popped another piece of cheese into her mouth, sounding so damn disgruntled by the prospect that he couldn’t help but smile.

              For a moment she stared down at the bowl of dough as she toyed with a piece of bread and he wondered what she was thinking. Perhaps she was preparing herself for another fight, he realized with a wince. He was done fighting with her. They’d been doing it since they were children and, as much fun as it had been, it was time to put an end to it.

              She was his wife and his responsibility, and they couldn’t go on like this. He’d been very fortunate that he hadn’t been raised in a cold family, and he wanted their children to be just as fortunate as he had been. Like most couples, his parents weren’t in love, but unlike most couples that he knew, they were very good friends.

              It probably hadn’t hurt that his parents were raised knowing that they were betrothed to each other. They were two years apart and had lived less than two hours away from each other as children. They’d accepted the situation without complaint. His mother’s family had wanted a title for their daughter while his father’s parents had wanted to fatten their coffers and ensure that their son had a pleasant wife.

              They’d always been friends, sometimes acting more like siblings than a married couple. They’d never shared a room, never looked at each other with anything more than casual affection, and never pretended to be in love. Not that he wanted to know, because the knowledge would probably scar him for life, but he doubted very much that his mother had graced his father’s bed since she’d provided him with an heir and a spare so that the line could continue.

              She’d also never seemed upset that her husband kept mistresses and lovers. It never seemed to bother her, and Robert knew that she was well aware that they existed. Whenever his father left to go spend the night with another woman, she always gave him a knowing smile and wished him a good night.

              They’d never fought, yelled at each other or ignored either James or himself as they pursued their own amusements. They raised their children in a warm family, with love and understanding and Robert wanted that for his own family. He certainly didn’t want to raise his children in a cold home like the one that Elizabeth had been raised in.

              Lady Norwood was the typical mother and wife of the ton. She said the right things, wore the latest fashion, obeyed all the rules and snubbed her nose at those who didn’t. She also had very little to do with the raising of her daughters. She’d left that to nannies and governesses, only involving herself in her children’s lives when it came to gossip, the prospect of her daughters marrying, or if her daughters embarrassed her in some way.

              The only good thing that he could say about Lord Norwood where his daughters were concerned was that the man did genuinely love and care about his girls. He’d seen Lord Norwood worry about them, smile warmly when he saw them and seem genuinely pleased to have them around.

              Unlike his parents, the Norwoods were virtual strangers, choosing to spend most of their time apart. Although Lady Norwood hadn’t complained about her husband keeping women on the side, she did demand a shinny bauble the next morning. It hadn’t taken Robert long to figure out their routine. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday night, Lord Norwood would bid his wife goodnight before he left to spend the night with his mistress. In turn, Lady Norwood would send her husband a cold glare, not because she was truly upset that he was spending his nights with other women like Robert had first suspected, but to remind him that she would expect him to buy her forgiveness in the morning.

              It was not the type of marriage that he wanted and certainly not one that he wanted his children to be exposed to everyday. While he would like to be able to put the past behind them and start over as friends, he also didn’t want his parents’ marriage. He didn’t simply want a cordial marriage. He desired Elizabeth and wanted to spend every night with her in his arms and, in order to get that, they were going to have to talk.

              “I’m very sorry that I didn’t tell you about the baby,” she said softly, bringing up the one subject that he’d decided to put off until another day.

              “Why didn’t you?” he asked just as softly, terrified that he’d say or do something to scare her or make her cry.

              Too late, he realized as she wiped a tear off her cheek with a small cooking cloth. Pretending that everything was okay, she stood up and focused all of her attention on the bowl of dough. Somehow he forced himself to remain seated when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and tell her that he forgave her, that it wasn’t important, but it was.

              He wanted to know, needed to know. He wasn’t as angry as he’d been before. Christ almighty, how could he be? She’d just lost their child and he knew that she grieved over that child with all her heart. He’d seen the anguish in her eyes as she’d cried over the loss of their first child.

              She’d only been a little over a month and a half into her pregnancy, but he knew that she’d already loved that baby. While most women would simply accept the fact that they’d lost a child since it happened so frequently, Elizabeth had taken the loss hard. It told him so much about her, confirming his earlier opinion of her and making him regret ever calling her a bitch even if he’d only done it in his head. He just couldn’t see the woman that he’d held in his arms over the past two weeks while she cried her heart out being a vicious bitch who would purposely subject a child to a life of misery and being labeled a bastard.

              He just couldn’t.

              “I didn’t want to trap you,” she mumbled as she rolled out the dough with an expert touch and began to cut out circles.

              “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked a little more roughly than he’d intended, making her noticeably cringe.

              “I didn’t want to force you into marrying me, Robert,” she said tightly as she quickly placed the cut dough on a pan, focusing all of her attention on the task at hand so that she wouldn’t have to look at him.

              “It wouldn’t have been forced,” he explained, getting to his feet and moving to help her when she picked up the pan.

              He took the pan from her and carefully placed it in the hot oven, careful not to step too close to the open fireplace beneath the ovens. Once he was sure that it was far enough inside the oven, he turned around and found Elizabeth busying herself with cleaning up the small mess on the table.