Zelda said you know, but it took Alfred a moment to make any sense of what she was saying. Certainly she must have meant something, even though the actual words leaving her mouth were rather inarticulate. It wasn't as though this could have been a surprise, though. Having children was what married people did, and her relatives had been talking around the issue for long enough that they'd both thought about it. For Alfred, thinking it through had only made the idea more comfortable and more appealing, the same way that he'd gradually come around to giving up his flat in London for the seaside house at the Sanditon, and his ship (at least half the year) for a life on the docks. Apparently when Zelda had thought it through, she'd come to a different conclusion.
She didn't want children. At least: she didn't want children with him. Whether it had something to do with the concept of children themselves, his supposed parenting abilities, or all of Roslyn's talk about sea widows — she didn't want children. The conclusion stopped him short and for a moment he just stared at her, trying to adapt to this new information. He tried to convince himself that maybe he'd reached the wrong conclusion, but the way Caroline responded cemented it in his mind. She'd interpreted it the same way and was trying to be conciliatory. A nursery for Alfred, a guest room for Zelda.
Well, then.
"I, uh. Down the hall," he supplied in response to Caroline's mention of the study, with a vague gesture towards the door. He made no move to lead the way there, hoping that maybe the two women would forge ahead and give him a second to regain his composure — he wasn't sure what emotion was showing on his face, but he was sure it was something.
She didn't want children. At least: she didn't want children with him. Whether it had something to do with the concept of children themselves, his supposed parenting abilities, or all of Roslyn's talk about sea widows — she didn't want children. The conclusion stopped him short and for a moment he just stared at her, trying to adapt to this new information. He tried to convince himself that maybe he'd reached the wrong conclusion, but the way Caroline responded cemented it in his mind. She'd interpreted it the same way and was trying to be conciliatory. A nursery for Alfred, a guest room for Zelda.
Well, then.
"I, uh. Down the hall," he supplied in response to Caroline's mention of the study, with a vague gesture towards the door. He made no move to lead the way there, hoping that maybe the two women would forge ahead and give him a second to regain his composure — he wasn't sure what emotion was showing on his face, but he was sure it was something.
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER