Brandon's Doubt

Brandon threw down the book and took her face in his hands, "Did my heart love till now?" he said, finishing the sonnet, "forswear it, sight… For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

Marianne's eyes filled with tears as he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

"My true love's passion: therefore pardon me," Marianne whispered words of Juliet. "And not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath so discovered."

Brandon moved his face back and looked into her eyes, still holding her face, "pardon you? Do you believe me indifferent to this development? That I would be unhappy?"

"I knew not," she said, her chest rising and falling at a faster pace. "I was uncertain of even my own thoughts."

Her words stung him like a raging wasp and he let go of her face. He looked down at the grass between his boots, unable to meet her gaze. "Perhaps I have asked the wrong question, are you indifferent?"

She laughed not seeming to hear the seriousness in his voice. "You must think me quite the monster. What woman would be indifferent to such a prospect? It is in the female nature to love one's child."

"I had no doubt that you could love your own child but that you could love mine?" Brandon raised his eyes and met hers. She looked shocked, with her mouth slightly open.

"Brandon?" The shock left her eyes and was replaced with hurt. Using his knee for support, she got to her feet and walked down the hill; her bonnet ribbons trailing behind.

He watched her dress flowing in the wind for a moment, then he grabbed up the blasted book and followed her. They walked in silence for a long moment, Brandon staying a few steps behind his wife.

Finally, Marianne spun around, anger flushing her cheeks. "Let us speak frankly, Colonel. You would have me indifferent or perhaps even disgusted at the prospect of bearing your child?"

Brandon could not help but glance to see if any person might be around. "I would not presume to know your thoughts," he replied, feeling a bit of anger rising in his own face. "But if we are speaking frankly, then yes, I do often wonder."

"What? What do you wonder Colonel? How a spoiled, silly girl might condescend to your quiet manner?" She stepped back a step and crossed her arms.

"Perhaps I wonder, how a well educated, woman of high sensibility could ever have anything more than respect for a man fifteen years her senior. Perhaps I wonder if there might be some lingering-" he stopped short, unable to finish his thought, even with permission to speak candidly.

Stepping closer, her brow furrowed, "Lingering?"

Brandon looked at the book in his hands wishing to throw it again to the ground. "I should not have said that. Let us return home before the day is gone." He turned but her hand on his arm stopped him. He turned back to face her and they stood a step apart the wind between them.

"What have I done to make you distrust me so?" her breath was heavy and tears seemed to cling in her throat.

"You have done nothing. You are my devoted wife."

Her blue eyes searched his face and tears grew in them. "And yet you doubt me." It was not a question but a statement. "Have I not told you each night since we were wed that I love you? Do I not call you 'my love."

"Yes."

"But it is not enough," she turned her head and watched off into the distance. "How can I prove my love?" she spoke more to herself than to him.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, "You do not have to. I ask nothing of you."

"I did love, Willoughby," she tightened her eyes as if his name was difficult to speak. "I loved him more than I could ever hope to explain."

Pain filled, Brandon's chest to hear her speak that way. It was a pain mixed with jealousy.

"But," Marianne said, looking back into his eyes. "I would not want to bear his child. I would not have called him, 'my love.' How could I want a bitter marriage when I now have a happy one?" She reached up and held Brandon's face, in the same way he had held hers. "My doubts for the child, were not because it is yours but because of my health. I am not as strong as most woman. I fear not the child or his father, but the bearing."

Shaking a little in the wind, Brandon saw not for the first time how frail his wife was.

"I have nothing to give you but my words," she whispered, stepping so close that they touched. "And this child, to prove that it is you that I love. You have been my friend and guide, my savoir and truest love." She lifted herself up onto the tips of her feet and met her lips to his.

He wrapped his arms about her waist and drew her deeper into the kiss. He leaned his head back, "I am a fool. An ignorant, ungrateful, fool."

"Then you believe me?" she asked, as he caressed her lips with his own. "And you are happy with the child?"

"More than I shall ever say, my angel." He hugged her closer and felt how slinder she truly was. "You should not be afraid. You shan't be alone when the time comes."

"In know," she whispered. "You are my comfort in that."

He smiled and kissed her again, but there was a newness to it. It was a kiss void of doubt.