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Read Online Jo Beverley - [Rogue ] by Christmas Angel - Free Book Online
Authors: Christmas Angel
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for hours under a particular sunbeam as he contemplated her? Perhaps it wasn't reasonable to want to entertain, to visit neighboring houses, to dance, to laugh, to have friends.
All Sebastian wanted was peace and quiet and her company.
Even if she played the piano, which was not a favorite occupation of hers, she must only play slow, dreamy pieces. Lively music, laughter, and running were all forbidden for they would disrupt the flow of words in his head.
It took her some months to find the courage to question the physical side of her marriage. Though she was hazy as to details, she was country-bred and knew there had to be more than kisses if there were to be children. Children had become increasingly attractive as something to occupy her time.
The subject had embarrassed him, but he had come to her bed that night, and at regular intervals thereafter, and eventually she had conceived a child.
At first Sebastian had been delighted by the thought of children. He wrote a number of anticipatory verses about sleeping cherubs and tender mothers. Not long after Bastian's birth he had written "My Angel Bride." But children are not by nature peaceful. They are noisy, and as they grow, they are naturally energetic. Bastian was no exception. Nor was Rosie when she arrived.
The children were a great joy to Judith, but they did not improve her marriage. Life became a constant struggle to allow them the necessary freedom, while maintaining tranquility in the house. It was an impossible situation which led to fretful complaints from her husband, and increasingly sharp bursts of his peevish temper.
It wore away the romance until there was none left.
Judith had realized one day that she didn't love Sebastian anymore, and perhaps never had. She didn't even like him, and perhaps never had. She thought his precious poetry sentimental nonsense, and his affected looks ridiculous. When she saw him in his curling papers she was hard-pressed not to laugh.
There was, however, nothing to do about it. She had made her bed and must lie in it. She could at least be grateful that he rarely joined her there, for the fascinating activity that had been the subject of endless girlish, giggling debates had turned out to be a tedious, rather messy business with no pleasure attached. The only wisdom she had seen in Sebastian was his disinclination to indulge in the first place.
The failure of the marriage wasn't even Sebastian's fault, for he was generally kind and generous, and his poetry evidenced his love. It was hers for being such a romantic twit at sixteen. So she continued to do her best to create a home for all her family, regarding Sebastian as another child rather than a mate.
In public she carefully maintained their reputation as a devoted romantic couple, for there would be no advantage to anyone in disturbing it. Sebastian didn't seem to be aware that there was anything false in it and continued to produce the verses that made her the envy of many women.
At least after Rosie's birth the marital duties ceased entirely, and Sebastian once more restricted himself to kissing her cheek, or occasionally cuddling her on his lap. Things being different Judith would have liked more children, for they were now the light of her life, but not at the price of yet more disharmony in the home.
Her life had been stable and not particularly unpleasant until Sebastian developed pneumonia and died. Her first reaction, she had to confess, had been a sense of liberation of which she had been ashamed ever since. Like a canary in a cage, however, freedom had been a frightening shock, and in the first days she had numbly obeyed the pressure of everyone's expectations and acted the part of the inconsolable widow. Her distress had become real when she had discovered he had left her almost destitute.
Her poor father had had the task of arranging her affairs, and it had taken its toll on him, too.
Judith had allowed herself and the children to be taken back to
All Sebastian wanted was peace and quiet and her company.
Even if she played the piano, which was not a favorite occupation of hers, she must only play slow, dreamy pieces. Lively music, laughter, and running were all forbidden for they would disrupt the flow of words in his head.
It took her some months to find the courage to question the physical side of her marriage. Though she was hazy as to details, she was country-bred and knew there had to be more than kisses if there were to be children. Children had become increasingly attractive as something to occupy her time.
The subject had embarrassed him, but he had come to her bed that night, and at regular intervals thereafter, and eventually she had conceived a child.
At first Sebastian had been delighted by the thought of children. He wrote a number of anticipatory verses about sleeping cherubs and tender mothers. Not long after Bastian's birth he had written "My Angel Bride." But children are not by nature peaceful. They are noisy, and as they grow, they are naturally energetic. Bastian was no exception. Nor was Rosie when she arrived.
The children were a great joy to Judith, but they did not improve her marriage. Life became a constant struggle to allow them the necessary freedom, while maintaining tranquility in the house. It was an impossible situation which led to fretful complaints from her husband, and increasingly sharp bursts of his peevish temper.
It wore away the romance until there was none left.
Judith had realized one day that she didn't love Sebastian anymore, and perhaps never had. She didn't even like him, and perhaps never had. She thought his precious poetry sentimental nonsense, and his affected looks ridiculous. When she saw him in his curling papers she was hard-pressed not to laugh.
There was, however, nothing to do about it. She had made her bed and must lie in it. She could at least be grateful that he rarely joined her there, for the fascinating activity that had been the subject of endless girlish, giggling debates had turned out to be a tedious, rather messy business with no pleasure attached. The only wisdom she had seen in Sebastian was his disinclination to indulge in the first place.
The failure of the marriage wasn't even Sebastian's fault, for he was generally kind and generous, and his poetry evidenced his love. It was hers for being such a romantic twit at sixteen. So she continued to do her best to create a home for all her family, regarding Sebastian as another child rather than a mate.
In public she carefully maintained their reputation as a devoted romantic couple, for there would be no advantage to anyone in disturbing it. Sebastian didn't seem to be aware that there was anything false in it and continued to produce the verses that made her the envy of many women.
At least after Rosie's birth the marital duties ceased entirely, and Sebastian once more restricted himself to kissing her cheek, or occasionally cuddling her on his lap. Things being different Judith would have liked more children, for they were now the light of her life, but not at the price of yet more disharmony in the home.
Her life had been stable and not particularly unpleasant until Sebastian developed pneumonia and died. Her first reaction, she had to confess, had been a sense of liberation of which she had been ashamed ever since. Like a canary in a cage, however, freedom had been a frightening shock, and in the first days she had numbly obeyed the pressure of everyone's expectations and acted the part of the inconsolable widow. Her distress had become real when she had discovered he had left her almost destitute.
Her poor father had had the task of arranging her affairs, and it had taken its toll on him, too.
Judith had allowed herself and the children to be taken back to
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