Page 94 of Coronation
“Of course,” Ben agrees on my behalf as I sit up straighter again, wiping my eyes.
Sybil’s lips twist. “Are you the guy who had her all upset when she came to see me in London a few months ago?”
My chest goes cold as the jovial mood from my family members drains away. As I open my mouth to respond, though, intent on minimizing it as much as possible to save him from my sister’s accusations, Ben beats me to it.
“I suspect I was, yes,” he tells her gravely. “I would like to explain, but I hope none of you see this as me making excuses for my actions at the beginning of my and Zelda’s relationship. I’m a grown man, and I ought to have dealt with my shit long before she came into my life. That wasn’t the case, though. I’m sorry to say that it took meeting your sister for me to realize changes needed to be made, and that hurting her was the catalyst.” With a quick, pained look at me, Ben continues, “My family was not like yours. Love was not something my brothers and I were taught to expect. Our duty to The Crown, and the roles we must play, were emphasized above all else.”
Everyone is silent, listening, and my bottom lip trembles as I see Mom wipe a tear from her cheek.
Ben shakes his head slightly, as though trying to clear away the memories I know would break me if I could see for myself. “It is one thing to find the love of your life, but entirely another to see yourself as deserving of such happiness. The mistakes I made when our relationship began will always be one of the greatest regrets of my life, but I assure you, they won’t be repeated.”
I expect Sybil to retort with something scathing. I know my sister, and she has nothing if not a natural talent for skepticism. For god’s sake, the woman has made a career of searching for the tiniest point of weakness and exploiting it with ruthless efficiency. Apparently, she’s taking today off, though. After a long moment of silence, Sybil only purses herlips. “Fair enough,” she tells Ben curtly, though I can tell by the tightness in her expression she is unconvinced.
Looking between my family members’ faces, I search for signs that this information has sparked a new wave of questioning, but for once, everyone is silent.
“Okay. Well.” I let out an unsteady laugh. “Now that all answers have been addressed about our marriage, I guess we can get to the second big piece of news.” Blowing out a heavy lungful of air, I look to Ben, whose face still shows a shadow of darkness from the unexpected tense moment. As he apparently realizes what it’s time to tell them, however, some of it seems to clear, and he offers me a reassuring smile.
Reaching out to squeeze his hand, I look back to my family. “I’m also pregnant.”
The cacophony of sound this announcement produces quickly necessitates the return of the mute button, and with its invaluable assistance, we manage to get through the questions pretty quickly.
No, it wasn’t planned.
Yes, we’re happy about it.
No, it wasn’t the reason for the wedding.
No, we won’t name the baby Calvin if it’s a boy.
No, we can’t live in California.
No, I won’t be encapsulating and eating my placenta.
Yes, I’m sure.
It’s loud and chaotic and slightly exasperating, but when I slump back in the kitchen chair at the end of the very long video chat and look to Ben, he’s smiling. “I think it went well, all things considered.”
“I’m sorry my mother asked about your sperm count. That was pretty weird.” I yawn, stretching my arms over my head in a fruitless attempt to wake myself up. It doesn’t seem to matter how much sleep I get; these days, within an hour of waking up, I’m tired again. “She’s not a pervert; she’s justtotally detached from reality after a lifetime of having way too much money.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the phenomenon,” Ben snorts, hitting the blender’s ‘on’ button to finally finish our breakfast. When the loud grinding has died away, he continues. “My own mother wasn’t exactly what one would callgrounded. When she died, she had enough drugs in her system to operate a full-service pharmacy.”
My lips twitch at the tone he uses to deliver this grim piece of family trivia. “Would she have liked me?”
My new husband laughs out loud at this, looking as happy as I’ve ever seen him as he pours out our breakfasts. “God, no. She would have been furious with me for even speaking to you at a dinner party.”
“Even if I wore the blue dress?” I ask innocently, and judging by the darkening in Ben’s eyes, he knows exactly the one I’m referring to.
“Oh, darling.Especiallyif you wore the blue dress.” He’s still grinning as he crosses the kitchen, setting down my glass before me. “Let me know if it’s too much kale. I understand that folate-rich foods are very important at this stage of the baby’s development; they’re said to reduce neural tube defects.”
My mouth falls open as I watch him retake the seat beside mine. “How do you know that?”
“I read it on the app.”
“The app?”
Ben casts me a bemused look. “I downloaded it on the drive back from Wyngate yesterday. It sends weekly updates on the baby’s development and helpful dietary and lifestyle suggestions for both of you.” I’m still gaping at him, my eyes burning with a fresh wave of tears—okay, this amount of crying is getting ridiculous, it has to be hormonal—as he checks his watch.
My heart sinks. “You have to go?”
