The luxury of being a woman meant that Ursula knew exactly how many bastards she had begotten and exactly what had become of them. Of course men could simply walk away after the deed was done and shoulder no further consequences so it was hardly a luxury in the greater scheme of things. Had she not had every confidence that Phineas and Belvina were her only living illegitimate children then it might have crossed her mind that the boy was hers. Had Elladora not reacted so cagily she would have solely placed her suspicion with her siblings.
The final nail in the coffin came after the woman corralling the grubby urchins greeted Ella by name.
Ursula stared at her sister-in-law with a mixture of shock, horror, and just a hint of admiration. She could understand why the spinster - referring to her as an old maid was apparently a technical inaccuracy - wouldn't have told her, but it still dismayed her that she'd never had so much as an inkling, that they'd been through similar difficulties and yet never commiserated together. It was like finding out about Rufina all over again, albeit with some bitterness. How could Ella have treated her with such disdain knowing that she was no better? The nerve of it! Also, how had Ella hidden it so well? The boy certainly didn't predate Ursula's marriage which meant Ella had hidden the whole thing while living under the same roof. What magic had she found to suppress the physical signs? Could she have been so distracted by her own life drama that she'd managed to entirely miss her spinster-in-law growing plump? How many years of carefully preserved secrecy had just been ruined in the space of a couple minutes?
She wanted to ask who the father was but a horrible idea that it might somehow be her own brother made her hold back the question, also a regard for decorum and what was appropriate and not appropriate to discuss in public. Instead she settled for an emotionally laden, "I had no idea."
The final nail in the coffin came after the woman corralling the grubby urchins greeted Ella by name.
Ursula stared at her sister-in-law with a mixture of shock, horror, and just a hint of admiration. She could understand why the spinster - referring to her as an old maid was apparently a technical inaccuracy - wouldn't have told her, but it still dismayed her that she'd never had so much as an inkling, that they'd been through similar difficulties and yet never commiserated together. It was like finding out about Rufina all over again, albeit with some bitterness. How could Ella have treated her with such disdain knowing that she was no better? The nerve of it! Also, how had Ella hidden it so well? The boy certainly didn't predate Ursula's marriage which meant Ella had hidden the whole thing while living under the same roof. What magic had she found to suppress the physical signs? Could she have been so distracted by her own life drama that she'd managed to entirely miss her spinster-in-law growing plump? How many years of carefully preserved secrecy had just been ruined in the space of a couple minutes?
She wanted to ask who the father was but a horrible idea that it might somehow be her own brother made her hold back the question, also a regard for decorum and what was appropriate and not appropriate to discuss in public. Instead she settled for an emotionally laden, "I had no idea."
Thanks to Bee for this magnificent set <3