He had seen her with the child.

There had been very few things in his life that had disturbed him, and, frankly, that image was one of them. Not merely because he was confused, but also because he was afraid.

She had done little to discourage his advances—in fact, she had too often been encouraging—but how much of those acts had been affection and not duty? Because he was inclined to believe that she had accepted his alterations to their marriage out of obligation. If she felt for him the way he did about her, surely she would have said something by now. At least, with less methodical inspiration and with more romantic interest.

So, the Duke was left in a perpetual state of turmoil and anxiety. Perhaps he had amended his opinion on child rearing—he'd even discussed the line of succession with William—but he was not confident that his wife would embrace his paternal urge in similar stride. With his changing humor, he found himself in want of a son to impart his wisdoms rather than a brother. William, whose mother was quite relentless in her murmuring of bastardry and coup, had spent his years neither believing nor desiring an ascension to Dukedom. Thus, as Vaughan had separated him from the Dowager and blatantly inquired with his brother, the young man admitted that he should be much happier with an occupation that provided more adventure—like the military.

Knowing now that he could not saddle his unwilling brother with the formidable task of running the vast and impressive lands and titles of Cambria and Martisine, Vaughan was more convinced than ever that he should accept and make peace with future progeny. Lecia had said she would be up to the task if he asked it of her, but it wasn't in him to make a request of that nature. Instead, he wished she would desire the outcome as much as he. He would wait, and William understood that even with Vaughan's blessing to diffract from society, nature might require a different course of action. Though, in the Duke's experience, nature could be thwarted with the assistance of volcanized manufactured products. However, he supposed, those efforts were aligned with preventing proliferation and not promising it, and current circumstances would require the latter for him to produce a replacement.

Therefore, he was confounded by his own stupidity and duality while also being utterly and unspeakably terrified of alienating the one person he felt most connected with. Even still, as he appreciated the intensity of his own affection, he could not guarantee that she reciprocated his sentiments. While his words had been rather plain—an "I love you" in any tongue still meant the same—Lecia had said little else than that she was "content". And what on Earth did "content" really mean, after all? That she was merely satisfied with their relationship, not impressed by it?

Vaughan had been fooled by delusions before; it would not do to have the same happen again. Surely a detached woman would not feel jealous, though. And Lecia had been quite jealous of Annika. But any wife would feel threatened by straying friendliness. The gossip and implications might be unbearable, even for a woman as self-assured and adept as the Duchess.

She did often seem invested in his moods. After the realization that he might elect to displace William from succeeding him—though that had never been formally addressed by anyone other than Drothea—Vaughan had been quite downcast. He felt immensely guilty for taking away something he thought rightfully belonged to his brother and did not relish the prospect of discussing the matter. It turned out, though, that the boy was keen on not becoming a peer and wished his brother all the luck for a healthy family. So, the brooding and grumpiness during the weeks before the holiday season had been utterly pointless. Nonetheless, Lecia had been affected by the change in her husband's demeanor and had often insisted that he share with her his burdens. One could assume that if she didn't care for him, she would not have asked.

Be that as it may, Vaughan needed to hear his wife say the words.

In any case, he was still terrified by the concept of fatherhood. Previous qualms with his credentials remained valid despite his new perspective. To make matters worse, he was well aware that a great number of women did not survive childbirth despite physicians or midwives. He would not recover from losing Lecia if it came to that, so the cycle of abysmal father figures would continue. Ideally that wouldn't be the case, but what if it was? Was that truly worth it?

They had left his stepmother's in equally high spirits, but maintained silence between them. Lecia and his sisters had apparently bonded, and he and William had shared their views with one another. The Duke had been optimistic afterward, until he reunited with his wife. While her mood was bright, her behavior indicated that her husband reviled her. Perhaps he had been excessive in his liberties when it came to her feelings, but, firstly, he was not sure how else to salvage both the lawful and personal vows he had made to her, and second he was entirely aware of his inability to express himself. Though, he was almost positive that his words had been exact on that front...

She lay beside him, the steady tempo of her breathing meant she was asleep. He turned himself over to take in the sight of her sleeping beauty. The guest bedroom at Brahmsboro was significantly smaller than the Duke's apartment; the bed especially was not forgiving in regard to personal space. Lecia slept a breath away, the artistry of her expression merely the camouflage that brought them together. Vaughan could appreciate that disguise for hours, yet it would forever be her wit that he admired.

"You are my biggest regret," he murmured, tracing the silhouette of her neck with his eyes.

It was not so much that he resented his love for her, but that he was sorry to have entrapped her. With their marriage, she was his, and although she was a fiercely independent she wolf, Lecia was also kind. Knowing that he loved her meant that she would be deliberate in her affection. Perhaps her heart was invested, or maybe it was not. Even still, how cruel was it to deceive her into this union and cut her off from the life she could have had.

Vaughan groaned in distress. He didn't know what he was thinking or doing anymore. Only that he was married to what he supposed to be the love of his life, yet his heart was in turmoil. Nothing was making sense to him anymore.

His thoughts raced on for hours before he could sleep that night. But in all of his musing and agonizing, the darkness had only made it more difficult to see the glistening trail of sadness that leaked from his wife's eyes. Between sleep and consciousness, she had heard his desperate whisper, so his regret had then become her own heartache.

Here. I'll be back. I work a lot. Kay. Thanks guys.