Keep My Heart- 3

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"It seems, my dear, we are at cross purposes." Rhett Butler, from Gone With the Wind, by Margaret Mitchell

Adam's P.O.V.

Summer of 1810

"How am I going to..."

He could not think of an appropriate way to break the news to this pretty, waif-like female. There was a distinct light in her eyes, trueness to the shy flutter of her lashes. Of course, this delightful behavior was only present when Rashleigh's name was mentioned. Her love for him, in its entire glimmering white ardor, was extremely apparent.

   Sadly, Adam knew the love affair to be quite one-sided. He knew when he had read the letter. He knew when he had blighted the day he had ever attempted to cast Rashleigh into a respectable man. How many years had he spent, working and going hungry, all for his little brother to throw away?

    Adam was six years older than Rashleigh. He remembered the day his mother had had Rashleigh—he remembered not only because he had been happy to have a sibling, but because his mother died that day. At six, he hadn't comprehended. He had wondered why their Aunt Phaedra had cried and why their head maid, Mrs. Brinkley had wept into her starched, white apron.

   For him, things had changed that day. On December 14th, 1786, his mother had died. A few weeks from Christmas, she had died. And Father...Adam still was not for certain, but he believed he had heard the adults conversing in hushed tones about the insane asylum.

     Sent reeling back into reality, Adam straightened his cravat, and knew the best way to tell her was by simply saying it—the truth. He needn't sugar coat it. Already, he knew that she would be utterly devastated.

     Even so, it was his duty to face the music—the tune of her going into a screaming rage, the symphony of angry, perplexed curse words, aimed at him. The music's note of her sobs echoing the entire house.

  Yes, Adam did not fear her wrath. He wondered only how she would react. He hoped, initially, that she might react in the same manner as other women. If she countered like other women, he could handle her.

   And how he would handle her? Well, he would offer her the best thing that he could.

Marriage.

After all, what woman did not want a fine home, and money to spend without worry? It was only a bonus that he knew himself to be bearable, and especially since he was absent so very much of the time. He highly doubted that much would pass between them, in light of her circumstance and the things she would have been going through. When he told her, which was.

   Wouldn't all wives rather their husbands to be away, as often as possible? Adam knew that he could provide for her; his first impression was that she was a smart, careful young woman.

   That was enough reason for matrimony. Besides, he would not live forever. The thought of children entered his mind not only for his own interest, but also hers.

   Undoubtedly, in the long, stretching months between when he was gone and she was alone, she would grow lonely. And children would provide her some comfort and happiness.

  He smiled a smile that was wholly void of humor. It seemed that he had every aspect of their lives planned out. There was only one issue.

   He had not even asked her yet.

But, that was Adam. He was a planner. Everything was matter of fact for him. There was nothing that could not be explained. There were answers to everything.

    Well, he had always been certain of that. Until he saw a sunny, happy little lady, he had firmly believed that.

   And now, he was not so sure.

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