Don't Speak -
Melody Crouch - January 26, 2021
January 23rd, 1891 — The Crouch Home, Swallowbury
Melody never used to consider herself the suspicious or paranoid sort before Ben came into her life. All throughout school she was motivated by knowledge, by the pursuit of something greater than herself. Then, he walked into her life like a strong wind on the sea and blew her off course. His influence led to a dramatic shift of rationale. No longer was she motivated by learning, but by love. Love and pain.
Reuben Crouch rarely brought her anything but pain.
Five days came and went without her acting on her suspicions, and in that time her unease grew unchecked. He was hiding something that day in his office, she was sure of it. Perhaps it was letters from the solicitor in an attempt to figure out how to best part ways. Perhaps it was to Arthur to discuss his plans on revealing the truth. Melody imagined a great many things except the obvious: an affair of his had produced a son.
Her search through his desk began innocently, at first. Sifting through the lose papers on his desk led to her discovering the obviously feminine script detailing a young boy. A baby. And, for several long minutes, Melody sat in his chair seething. Ben had a son young enough to still not be speaking clearly, which meant he had to be born early in their marriage. Early enough, anyway, to not have been the child of an extramarital affair. Melody wasn't naive, she knew the sort of man Ben was before their marriage. But, the discovery stung all the same. Someone else had given him the very thing she destroyed nearly a year ago.
A desperation kicked in then. Suddenly, the papers on the desk weren't enough of the story to satisfy her suspicion. Melody rummaged through his desk, tearing apart any method of organization he had as the pile of curious letters besides her grew. She looked through the drawers, beneath any books or decorations. Then, once she was satisfied there wasn't anything left to find in his office she crossed the hall into his bedroom. There, she checked each of his coat pockets, his nightstand drawers, even beneath the wardrobe in pursuit of any hidden information.
She pulled her pile of papers into her bedroom and warded the door shut, not caring in the least if Ben were to discover her snooping. Then, Melody sank into a puddle of skirts onto the floor as she pieced together the story. The woman didn't appear to be blackmailing him, as Arthur indicated Ben's thinking to be. Apparently, she just wished for Ben to know. But why? Why risk whatever gracious circumstances befell her not to be ruined by such a child? And, more than that, who was she? And why hadn't Ben told her?
The dates on the letters coincided perfectly with the morning after their passionate night. So, while Melody was no longer consumed by the thought of divorce, a new fear arose. Would Ben want to pursue a relationship with this woman? With his son? If he truly was the only one she had ever been with, then it could be assumed that she still had some sort of ... tenderness for him.
Downstairs, the sounds of the floo alerted her to Ben's arrival at home. Confronting him in her shocked state would likely only lead to another argument, another confrontation where vicious words were spat without intention. No, Melody refused to address him tonight. Instead, she dewarded her door and charmed the papers to fly back to their disarray on his desk. It was likely a neater mess than the one he left, but there wasn't time enough for her to put things back exactly as they were.
With a soft click of her door, Melody crossed to her bed and sat on the edge. Hopefully, Ben wouldn't choose to address her tonight, either.