Exploring what happened to a mysteriously vanished ship or spending the next few hours trying not to toss restlessly–it was not such a hard decision. “Give me a moment.” He turned to the slave. “Help me with my toga.”
The servant put the lamp down and hurried to assist Titus in dressing. He did not miss the way his father’s gaze kept moving to the bed, though. It was only partly to prove a point that he moved and sat down beside Abigail once he was dressed. Brushing her hair back, he said at an almost-normal volume, “Beloved, wake up for a moment.” The light and motion in the room had begun to stir her anyway, so it was not difficult to get her to blink her eyes open. Titus smiled. “I am needed at the shipping yards, a craft we thought was lost has returned. I know not how long it will take me down there.”
Abigail nodded drowsily. Titus moved his smile down to her lips and kissed her gently. “I love you, Abigail,” he murmured quietly enough that his father would not hear. “I will see you later today.” He stood again and moved to join his father and the slave.
*
Abigail awoke with a gasp when something pounced on her.
“Mother!” Samuel’s huge grin erased the instant worry. “Why did you not tell me?”
She pushed herself up, trying to clear the cobwebs of sleep from her mind. She had risen once to feed Benjamin, but the pull of a warm bed had been too great. She had fallen asleep again, and now it was far later than her usual time to rise. “Tell you what, small one?”
“That Titus is now your husband! That means he is my father. He said so!”
Abigail sighed, a pain clenching her heart. She closed her eyes against the picture of the boy soon to be disappointed. “He is not my husband, Samuel.”
Confusion etched itself into his countenance. “But. . . you. . .”
His look at the bed told Abigail clearly how he had come to this erroneous conclusion. She barely stifled a groan. Why had she come back in here after Titus left, knowing how tired she was? She should have anticipated that Samuel may awaken before her this morning.
A lie sprang to her lips, escaping before she could think to stop it. “I came in here after feeding Benjamin to talk to Titus. He was gone, so I sat down to wait for him. I must have fallen asleep.” At least she was still clothed.
Samuel apparently saw no reason to question the explanation, but his grief was obvious. He slumped down and curled up in her lap. His face was buried in the blankets still covering her legs, so it was only the slight tremor that moved up his back that told her he was crying. Abigail felt the new, carefully constructed shell around her heart shatter. It felt as though it took her heart with it.
“Do not cry, my son.” She ran her hand over his head, fighting back tears of her own. “I know you want a father. And Titus loves you as though you were his son. It is just that I cannot marry him, dear one.”
“Why not?” Samuel cried. “You love him. He kisses you all the time.”
Abigail let her head fall back against the wall behind her. “It is not that simple. Even if he wanted to marry me, he could not. His father would not approve.”
Samuel snapped up, looking furious as he faced her. “Then why does he act with you as my father did? Why does he kiss you and say he loves you, why does he touch you if he cannot be your husband?”
She should have realized her sensitive child would have seen and understood far more than she had expected. And looking into the warm brown of his eyes, golden flecks magnified by the tears still clouding them, she felt the stab of responsibility that she had been ignoring. She was the one this boy looked up to, the one who guided him, who taught him right from wrong. And how was she to give him lessons on the Law in the morning and then sin knowingly as soon as she put him to bed? Something solidified within her, something that brought a peace with it even as it hurt. “He should not. And he will not any longer. You are right, Samuel, unless he is my husband, he should not act that way.”
It was certainly not the solution Samuel had hoped for, but he subsided. For a moment, he let her soothe him, let her dry his tears. Then he leaned up and soothed her in return, made her tears begin to fall.
“He will always love you, Mother,” he murmured as they held each other. He could not understand the words he spoke, but that made them all the more striking. “Even if you anger him, he will love you.”
She wiped at her eyes, gave him a kiss on the forehead, and finally realized that Phillip was in the corner of the room in his usual position. She had no idea when he had come in but assumed it had been while she still slept. “Where is Miriam?”
“She went to get your breakfast and bring it up, Mistress.” Phillip’s voice did not betray any concern, but the flash in his eyes did. “When you still slept, we assumed you would want to take it up here. She should be back directly.”