Result of love

In the late morning, around half past eleven, the Duchess of Ireland, Abigail Dallas, was at the time bent over her chamber pot.

She was bent over the vase as she tried to throw up.

Her period was late...

Her breasts were also swollen and sometimes they ached too.

In her heart she did not want to believe this was true: Abigail knew what all this meant.

A month and a half had passed since the fateful evening she had spent with Gilbert and since that day her period hadn't come.

In addition, all those signs together: the increase of her breasts, the strong retching, could not mean anything else.

She must have been pregnant and the baby that she now carried in her womb, was Gilbert's child.

In the young woman's head a mixture of strong conflicting feelings began to grow.

What would have happened to her if Isabelle found out about her pregnancy? What would have happened to Gilbert and which reaction would he have to the news of becoming a father? How would Juniper react to the news that his future wife was already pregnant and the baby was not his?

Abigail didn't know anything about it, she knew she was weak, she didn't have the strength for it all, but she knew one thing for sure: she wanted to keep that baby.

She didn't know why, she didn't even know how but it was as if a strong maternal instinct was born in her.

That unexpected child was still hers. But Abigail was young, she was barely sixteen and she was beautiful, as beautiful as a red rose, like the colour of her very long hair and her soft lips.

She had eyes as large and green as the leaves of trees in April and white pale skin, almost like fresh milk.

And at that time she would have thought of everything except having the load of a child.

She still had a lot of time: she wanted to live her life, to be able to travel and see new places, she wanted to be free like a young forest bird but from that day everything would have changed.

She would have given birth to a child, who from birth would have been taken from her and entrusted to the care of a nurse, who would have provided for the baby's nutrition and well-being.

And so it would have grown up like a young prince or princess, followed by a personal tutor and already from the earliest age taking part in parties of British aristocrats.

Of course this was just a daydream, for what Abigail could wish for her child, but she knew that it was unlikely to go that way.

Daydreams that happened while the young woman spent her time slumped on the ground, pale in the face and with tears filling her big eyes.

At the moment a distressing thought of her came to her mind.

She remembered the day the princess took the life of her own younger half-brother Thomas Cross without remorse or guilt.

He was a competitor for the crown and so would have been her son in case Gilbert and Isabelle had not received male heirs.

What would it have been if the princess found out about the young woman's condition?

Perhaps she too would have forced Abigail to give up the baby or perhaps, even more wickedly she would have waited for it to be born, to take the baby's life soon after.

There would have been many possible futures, but the thought of the princess aroused in her an innate fear.

She would have to confess everything to Gilbert, and the choice would then be common.

She did so with great effort and got on her feet, wiping her own mouth with a clean white silk handkerchief any dirt that might have remained there.

She was tired: throwing up she had lost a lot of energy, but she knew that all this was a thing to do, to have to talk and discuss before Gilbert got married.

So Abigail left her room as quickly as possible and went out into the long, clear corridor illuminated by the light entering from the huge windows of the castle.

She had indeed been informed that at that time the general was in his chambers to try on his clothes, both for his coronation and for his wedding.

Commitments, which touched him of interest and necessity being now part of the royal family.

And so the young lady appeared almost hastily in the rooms of the future prince consort, to inform him of the situation.

As soon as she entered the huge rooms of Gilbert she found his proud figure elegantly placed in front of a mirror.

He wore special fine clothes in which the slender and proud figure of a future prince shone with all his majesty.

Together with him, in the room there were other servants measuring and checking that every little detail on the man's body was perfect.

But as soon as Abigail entered her room, his eyes met those of the other and immediately Gilbert ordered all the attendants and tailors in that room to leave immediately.

And as even the last of those had exited the room, the young duchess, who had not yet said a word threw herself crying into the arms of the man, who was stunned by this gesture.

-Oh, Gilbert...- she confessed to him -if you only knew what happened, what we did...-.

At all those words: the man seemed confused, almost as if he did not know what the young duchess was talking about.

He tried to calm her down holding her close and caressing her red hair like the fire.

-What could ever have happened Abigail...it can't be something so serious, or am I wrong?-.

He waited time for an answer, he waited in vain an answer.

-Oh Gilbert, I wish it wasn't serious, I wish I could avoid all this ...- commented the young woman, grabbing the man's forearms with force -I wish I didn't have to bring you such a surprise...-.

It followed a strange silence full of anxiety which then ended with the last and final sentence -I am pregnant Gilbert and you are the father...-.

At those words the heart of the future prince consort collapsed into a thousand pieces, destroyed, full of surprise and sadness.

He was covered in such fear to make him reject the girl's body: so much to make him stagger indirectly in the room.

He hoped he didn't get it right, but unfortunately everything the girl said had to be the truth, a hard and terrible truth that had come to light just before her wedding.

-I wanted to tell you...- Abigail ended up looking away -I just wanted to let you know that you would become a father-.

Cold shivers ran through the body of the general until it was implanted in his own flesh, he had risked too much.

-We really can't Abigail...- the man finally commented -we just can't keep this baby ...-.

At those words the pale face of the girl whitened until it almost became marble coloured and lost all redness.

-What do you mean Gilbert? Should I give up this baby, our child? -.

To this second sentence was added a sad and melancholy silence, only half filled by the raucous sunlight piercing through the windows.

-It is our only hope if we both want to continue on our way to live our lives-.

Abigail was shocked, scared and above all she could not believe the man's words.

She did not know him, she no longer recognized the man she had fallen in love with and to whom she had given the most precious thing she had.

-Are you really serious? - the duchess's big eyes filled with transparent tears -you don't really want to take away your own child's life, right? I thought you loved me...I thought we could end up together in the end...-.

The general shook his head to both sides -And be a pretty happy family?! This is not a fairy tale Abigail...I have seen what my wife does to her opponents, and I don't want my child to lose its life like that-.