“Not really,” he replied.
“Do you still dream of your city of gold?” she asked.
City of Gold. El Dorado. Yes, I did share that ambition with her. I shared much.
“No, that dream has faded away. I believe the son will inherit the Winchester Opera House if he can convince his parents he is trustworthy.”
“Simon? Trustworthy?” Florence laughed, then shook her head, “That was neither charitable nor Christian of me. Forgive me. Iam sure he will be a credit to his family. As I am sure you will be.”
Jeremy had started walking along the hallway towards the library, though he did not feel like reading. It was movement for the sake of movement, just to be doing something. He felt listless, like a ship stranded in sudden doldrums. Florence followed.
“In what way?” Jeremy asked.
“As a father,” Florence replied.
“I do not feel fatherly. I am not sure I would know how to.”
She smiled. “The dilemma of every man who becomes a father, I am sure, but I know that you will excel.”
Jeremy suddenly glimpsed this situation from Florence's point of view. Pregnant out of wedlock. He thought back to her circumstances. Mother long since deceased. Father died after a long illness that had left him bedridden for years and had drained the family of capital. Brother had cut her off, too. Florence had been living on a pittance of an annuity when Jeremy had known her.
“I'm sorry, Florence. I am being churlish. This has all come as a shock to me and has necessitated a change in my plans. A… complete change. What made you come here now anyway? Why did you not tell me sooner? It was you who left me, after all.”
Florence flushed, looking away. “I thought you should know your son, that you would welcome knowing him. As to why I left... it is because of him. I realized that I was with child and did not want to be yet another mistress with a child out of wedlock. I would rather be a mother alone than that. But I could not deny you the chance to know little Edward. I named him after your father.”
They reached the library, and Jeremy opened the door for Florence, ushering her inside. The room was tall and dark, rafters lost in shadow. The presence of the books, musty and dusty, served to increase the sense of enclosure. Tall windows at the far end of the room were half obscured by the climbing ivy outside.
Jeremy spied a dusty decanter on a side table, evidence of how long it had been since he had spent any time in this room.
Or perhaps it was my father. Still, brandy does nothing but improve with age.
He unstoppered the decanter and poured himself an unhealthy measure into a nearby tumbler. The sharp tang of the drink and the heat that coursed down his throat into his stomach were welcome. It was a whip of fire to flagellate himself with.
My own actions have brought me to this fate. To give up a woman I believe I love in favor of one I do not care for. Had I not been such a boorish rake, this would never have happened.
But then it was his rebellious nature that had brought him into contact with Harriet in the first place. A mistaken identity by a young man pursuing a romantic adventure when he should have been focusing on impressing the Winchesters.
“What are you thinking, Jimmy. I do so hate when you retreat behind your walls,” Florence said with a tut.
Jeremy winced, his back to her. It was too close to what Harriet had said. He poured another drink, downing it before turning to Florence. She stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped in front of her, looking helpless.
“I'm sorry. My life is in somewhat of an upheaval lately. And this revelation on top of everything else...”
Florence crossed the floor to him and took his hands in hers. She looked up at him and smiled. It was the same smile that would once have set his blood afire and cast aside his inhibitions like a discarded coat on a hot day. Now it left him cold, his heart locked in permafrost. To ease her feelings, he smiled in return.
“I truly believe we can be a happy family together. Whatever upheaval you have faced, we can face together, and I can help you to navigate.”
“As my wife,” Jeremy finished.
“Yes. I did not wish to impose, but if you are to acknowledge Edward as yours, then it would be wise to marry,” Florence nodded sagely.
Jeremy would not have detected the anticipation in her face had he not known her well once upon a time. The slight widening of the eye, parting of the lips. The way her ear lobes reddened when she was excited. He frowned, wondering what she was feeling so worked up about.
She cannot believe that I will reject her and Edward. I may have been a feckless rake in the past, but I have some semblance of honor. I would not reject my own child.
“Of course we will be married. Of course I will acknowledge him publicly.”
Florence's smile widened, and she raised herself on tiptoes, pursing her lips as though to kiss him. He stepped away, turning his head.
