Written by: Damsel-in-stress
Beta: Nytd

My Beautiful Little Accident

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The child looked so small and helpless, a beautiful baby boy with a sunny laugh and an enchanting smile. It was inconceivable that anything bad could come from such an innocent infant, and yet everything that went wrong in my life came from that baby.

Nine months ago I could never have guessed at the turn of events my life would take. I was barely out into society, a bright, vivacious teen with an almost improper sense of fun.

He took that all away from me.

It was New Years Eve when I first met him, at a party in his father's house.

I had bounced into the room; my low cut green dress almost luminescent in the gloom, where I'd been led around by my grinning mother, who made no secret of her pleasure at how I had taken to society and how it had taken to me.

She had always groomed me, taking me to parties, introducing me to rich and important people and for a time I thought that was for my own benefit, but I would soon realise how she was using me.

This time was no different.

"Mr Beckett," she'd gushed, "let me introduce you to my daughter Helen."

Henry Beckett had bowed stiffly, looking at from my silk clad feet to my plunging neckline with faint disgust. Disgust and perhaps fear.

I smiled prettily, as it was expected of me, then curtsied low, giving him the full and complete view of my ample chest. I was a well-endowed young lady and not afraid to show it off. Perhaps I should be ashamed, but looking back, I just wished it had been someone, anyone, else that I'd been baiting.

"So nice to meet you," I said, fluttering my eyelashes.

A muscle twitched in Mr. Beckett's cheek but outwardly he kept his composure.

"Nice to meet you," he replied emotionlessly.

He was so colourless that I bored of him almost immediately, turning away to join the party. Little did I know what an effect I'd had on Henry and how he watched me for the rest of the night.

I assure you, it was hardly even a one-night stand.

It was just a fleeting impulse of mine; I admit I had several in my young life, but Henry thought so much more of it.

He was a very devout man, only a few months my senior, but already he seemed so much older. He was dull and lifeless most of the time, but suddenly he could be seized by fits of passion normally involving his religion. Sin often featured largely in his speeches to me. Usually my sin.

But as I said before, I am not ashamed.

Henry though, seemed furiously guilty with himself at his weakness, regretting the act almost while he had performed it.

Afterwards I wanted to simply forget about it, but he seemed plagued by guilt, and anyway our little fling had far reaching consequences no one could have guessed at.

God must have a sense of humour, I thought bitterly.

Now I looked at my baby, my beautiful little accident and stroked his brow. I wonder if he realised how unwanted he was, unwanted but definitely not unloved. I wouldn't change him for the world.

He gurgled in his sleep, perfectly comfortable and content. I looked at his angelic face and tried to see any of his father in him. There was nothing and I thanked God each day for that.

I would do everything in my power to keep my child from becoming the grasping, emotionless beast his father was.

Today is our anniversary, you know, a whole year since that farcical wedding.

We'd stood side by side at the altar, so close we were almost touching, but I could see Henry leaning away from me the whole time. I almost wanted to laugh.

I knew I repulsed Henry. He blamed me for his 'weakness' and was scared of me. I knew he hated me for what would have been his illegitimate child.

I still didn't see what bothered everyone so much about that. I could have lived with it. People would have talked, a single woman with a baby - scandalous, but I would have survived it.

It wouldn't have killed me. Marriage to Beckett may yet.

I remember when I told my mother about the child. She had wept, screaming at me for ruining all her work. I would never make a decent marriage now.

Then I told her it was Henry's and she could hardly contain her glee.

Together she and the remorse racked Beckett planned the wedding to save our reputations.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I'd stood by the altar with my swelled stomach cleverly concealed under my frilly white dress and had said my vows.

A feeling of doom crept over me as I promised myself to my dull, bitter husband, and little did I know how well founded that feeling was.

There were to be no more parties.

No more fun and dancing, no more music and laughter.

Colourless Beckett doused the fire of my youth and kept me locked in the marble floored, gold curtained cage that was his home.

I hated it. It felt like prison.

My husband said it was for my own good, that in my delicate condition I should be kept inside.

He sounded like such a loving husband.

It all sounded so good, you see, rich Beckett and his beautiful young wife with a baby on the way - it was the perfect situation.

Funny how deceiving appearances could be.

I wonder if my baby knew what a tremulous household he was born into, how unpredictable his childhood was going to be, how unlikely that it would be wholly happy.

Somehow I think he did because as I sat there contemplating my little child, my little Cutler Beckett, he looked back at me with troubled eyes.

Then he started to cry.

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