January 15th, 1892 — Johnstone, Scotland
Jo hadn't slept a wink. The nerves of what she was to face come the afternoon had ate at her until she could do nothing but lay in bed staring hopelessly at the ceiling. She was to see Zach again after nearly a year of separation and, while the part of her that remained in love with him was giddy at the prospect, Jo couldn't quite shake the growing sense of dread.
Everything she knew of his character stated that Zach would accept Ilona as his without question. How they would manage the future was a far more difficult question, but he wouldn't deny their daughter. However, a year apart might have altered his opinion. He might question whether he was in fact Ilona's father (a fair question) or he might deny to involve himself in her life due to her status as a bastard. There was little question in Jo's mind that he would've married her had she informed him of the pregnancy whatever the scandal. Only, those days had long since passed. Ilona was nearly two months old now and was far too old for Zach to risk the fallout.
She dressed warmly in her best dress, taking great care to look respectsble. Mrs. Ives, the innkeeper, had taken a shine to Ilona and how intrigued the baby was when awake, which gave Jo enough room to venture out without much fear. She couldn't be gone more than a few hours, not with her cow-like duties being what they were. Still, an hour or two with Zach was better than none at all, even if he would despise her for the situation they were now in.
Once Ilona was settled, Jo walked the short distance between the inn and the pub and settled herself in a back corner booth. Although they were in a muggle area with few to recognize them, she didn't wish to chance being overheard. The last thing either of them needed were their families becoming involved before they figured out what was to be done. Jo ordered a drink for them both, more because she needed something to do with her hands than a desire for alcohol. She hoped it wasn't presumptuous of her to order his drink, but if it saved them even five minutes of awkwardness wouldn't it be worth it?
After several minutes of fidgeting with her glass whilst staring at the door, she finally saw him. Standing from the booth, Jo resisted the overwhelming need to rush forward and embrace him. Instead, she remained rooted in place with a polite, albeit tense, smile plastered across her features. "Hello," Jo softly greeted. "Thank you for coming."
Everything she knew of his character stated that Zach would accept Ilona as his without question. How they would manage the future was a far more difficult question, but he wouldn't deny their daughter. However, a year apart might have altered his opinion. He might question whether he was in fact Ilona's father (a fair question) or he might deny to involve himself in her life due to her status as a bastard. There was little question in Jo's mind that he would've married her had she informed him of the pregnancy whatever the scandal. Only, those days had long since passed. Ilona was nearly two months old now and was far too old for Zach to risk the fallout.
She dressed warmly in her best dress, taking great care to look respectsble. Mrs. Ives, the innkeeper, had taken a shine to Ilona and how intrigued the baby was when awake, which gave Jo enough room to venture out without much fear. She couldn't be gone more than a few hours, not with her cow-like duties being what they were. Still, an hour or two with Zach was better than none at all, even if he would despise her for the situation they were now in.
Once Ilona was settled, Jo walked the short distance between the inn and the pub and settled herself in a back corner booth. Although they were in a muggle area with few to recognize them, she didn't wish to chance being overheard. The last thing either of them needed were their families becoming involved before they figured out what was to be done. Jo ordered a drink for them both, more because she needed something to do with her hands than a desire for alcohol. She hoped it wasn't presumptuous of her to order his drink, but if it saved them even five minutes of awkwardness wouldn't it be worth it?
After several minutes of fidgeting with her glass whilst staring at the door, she finally saw him. Standing from the booth, Jo resisted the overwhelming need to rush forward and embrace him. Instead, she remained rooted in place with a polite, albeit tense, smile plastered across her features. "Hello," Jo softly greeted. "Thank you for coming."