Of Fate And Prejudice

Chapter Fifteen

Shame dictated Frances' movements through the dim corridors to Sara's room. Pressing her forehead on the wooden frame, she released a shaky breath and pounded her fist on the door. Nothing. She pounded again, harder this time, but no response came. Knowing she couldn't return to the room whence she'd left—knowing she couldn't bear the humiliation of being turned away by her husband yet again—she stood, taking her frustrations out on the door. She wished one of her blows might land on Roman. Perhaps then she might knock him back to his senses and he might see the foolishness, the utter cruelty, in his demand that their marriage remain unconsummated.

Frances did not understand the logic behind Roman's actions, his decision to marry her only to reject her. She'd known his marriage proposal hadn't been motivated by love, and while she hadn't the slightest hope that love might result from their union, she'd hoped for companionship. She'd hoped that their marriage might create mutual respect between them, and that they might take advantage of cold, lonely nights to find comfort in each other's arms. What she'd not expected was his complete spurn.

Reaching up quickly to wipe her tears, she stepped back as the door slid open to reveal Sara's tired brown eyes.

"Mrs Brown?" Sara squinted, confusion creasing her brows.

"Forgive my intrusion, Sara, but I must rest here tonight," she said. Without waiting for a response, she pressed forward into the room and made her way to the bed. She sank into the covers, burying her head in a pillow as her tears broke loose once more.

She loathed herself for crying over a man she barely knew, and certainly didn't love. Yet, his rejection made her feel worthless and unwanted, and she feared he might treat her unborn child with equal disdain. How would her child's existence be if it was destined to encounter not just the rejection of society, but also the rejection of the only father it would ever have?

For the first time since falling pregnant, Frances regretted her decision to have the baby. Perhaps she should have listened to Papa and gotten rid of the child; perhaps then she wouldn't be in this terrible situation.

Frances did not hear Sara cross the room to her side, but as she settled in bed beside her and drew her into her embrace, Frances instinctively turned to her and buried her face in her chest. She appreciated Sara's silence as she cried herself to sleep. The next morning, she woke up to the smell of food. Her stomach growled, reminding her of her decision to forego dinner last evening, after Roman's humiliating rejection.

Smiling in appreciation, she took the generous serving of eggs, bacon, and bread from Sara. She relished every bite, thankful her mood hadn't affected her appetite. Once she'd emptied her plate, Sara took the dirty dishes downstairs to the kitchen, leaving Frances alone with her thoughts. Her mind wandered back to Roman and what he'd said about never consummating their marriage, and just like the evening before, she felt her melancholy returning.

She rose to her feet, desperate to distract herself from her thoughts. Perhaps she must begin readying herself for the journey ahead. She wasn't certain when they were scheduled to depart from the inn, but didn't doubt it would happen in only a few hours. She'd reached the corner of the room where Sara's bag sat when she realized her bags were nowhere in sight. Her heart sank with the realization, for accompanying it was the memory of her own naivety when she'd instructed that her bags be taken to Roman's room the evening before. At the time, she'd harbored thoughts of them consummating their marriage.

She'd been a fool.

Now she must face him again. The mere thought of it sent a cold shiver down her spine, for she didn't wish to see him, certainly not right away, when barely ten hours had passed since his cruel rejection. Yet she knew she was without a choice; she needed her clothes and didn't wish to burden Sara with the awkward task of going to Roman's room to retrieve them.