They sat together and started eating the wonderful food in silence. Fanny did her best to ignore the anxiety shaking inside her and concentrated on the delicious fare.
“My man will ensure our meals are delivered for the next few days. I’ve instructed that during our early morning walks in the woods, a servant will assist in cleaning the cottage and changing the bedsheets.”
A thrill burst inside her chest. “So you are staying.”
He arched a brow. “Did I not promise it?”
“I could not anticipate what your reaction would be after reading…your own letter, Simon. I’d wondered if you would have immediately gone to town.”
He lowered his fork and leaned back in the chair. “I thought about it, but I am staying.”
“I am glad you are.”
His expression became intent. “We have a child together.”
“Yes.”
There was a flash of wild emotions in his eyes, and he released a slow breath. She realized he had not been entirely certain of the child’s existence. And she understood. Many ladies in her position might have given the child to a family from the country or a distant relative. Or the child might not have survived the first year.
He cleared his throat. “Do we…do we have a son or a daughter?”
“A little girl,” she whispered. “She is only a month over two years.”
“Do you have a likeness of her?”
Fanny shook her head, thinking of the locket she had removed from the necklace around her throat. “She has your smile…and your eyes…and your hair…and your laugh. Every day I look at her, she has been a reminder of you.”
“You love her,” he said, a touch of envy in his tone and longing in his eyes. “Your voice fairly aches with it.”
“Of course I do! She is my daughter, and she is rather a lovely soul.”
Another silence dragged on while Fanny ate a few more bites, noting that he was watching her with shivering intensity.
“I read the letter I wrote you several times,” he said, taking a drink of his port. “I meant to marry you.”
“You did.”
There was an emotion in his eyes that she did not understand, never seeing it before, but it made her chest ache. Simon took several more sips of his drink before saying, “I am sorry I did not make it home to you, Fanny. I am damn sorry I did not get to keep my promises, and I am even more sorry that I still do not remember them.”
Fanny wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold on tightly. It hurt her heart to know he had suffered so much in that war and had been wounded so terribly that he had been altered on such a fundamental level. “It was no fault of your own, Simon.”
“Yet you must have suffered when it became known you were with child and unmarried.”
“Many in Penport did rejoice at my disgrace, and the gossip about me was incessant. I rather think I am made stronger for it.”
The comment made him go very still.
“My family, however, rallied around me, and not once did they make me feel less or ashamed. I still recall how frightened I was when I told mama. She listened, held out her hand and hugged me. I showed her your letter, and my family was happy to know that you meant to marry me.” Fanny took a sip of her port, lost in the memories. “Then news came that you died, and I was already evidently with child.”
“The news must have been shocking.”
For a long moment, she could not speak. “It felt as if I died. Since then, a part of me has remained empty.” And only now is it slowly being filled.
“With no husband and an increasing waistline, I began to lose friends. I suppose there are caveats to be considered ‘no good, very bad Fairbanks.’ We do not subscribe to the ridiculous standards those who consider themselves loftier in society do.” Fanny cleared her throat as a lump of emotion formed at the memory. “I am very thankful for my family. Despite the love I had for you, I am aware I was not wise to anticipate our vows. The whisperings that I had broken the code of maidenly modesty by imprudently offering up my affections without having had a firm assurance of future marriage did hurt because I knew you meant to marry me and would have done so even against your family’s objection.”
“Did your family not urge you to give up the child?”
Fanny smiled. “They never once thought it. Colin was amazing. He created a story that I was widowed. Many did not believe it, but no one dared to say it to our faces.”