Chapter Text
The Duke of Hastings had never pictured himself as being a family man. In his youthful days of rakedom, he vowed to himself to never have children, to never procreate, to let his father’s precious line and precious blood die with him. As such he never considered what fatherhood would be like, so when he found himself a father he had to take it one day at a time, never knowing how he would feel until the moment came to pass.
He remembered the pure joy that came when his eldest son took his first steps. It was identical to the joy he felt when each subsequent child took shaking steps on the rug of the same nursery. He remembered the fear he felt when his daughter was constantly suffering from earaches and high fevers for months during her first year of life, and the doctors warned it could be a symptom of deafness to come later in life. He remembered the relief he felt when that same precious, first daughter, only daughter, of his turned her head at the sound of her mother playing the piano. Her eyes lit up and as Simon bounced her on his hips in the sitting room, he knew she could hear and would forever be as enchanted by music as her mother was.
It was only fitting that she was named Cadence. As their third child, her name had to start with the letter C and Daphne had picked it. She named her only daughter for the music she played lovingly throughout each of her pregnancies. And did Cadence ever love music? As a child, she would sit under her mother’s piano and press the pedals for her. She grew to love the viola and mastered it and singing with loving grace. Simon took great pride in listening to the music his wife and daughter created.
Of their five children, Cadence remained the only girl, in the middle of four rambunctious boys. While her older brother Albert and Benjamin were too mature to play, her younger brothers Daniel and Elliot grew up rolling around on the rug as Cadence mastered every piece of music known to man, and began creating her own. Her presence and her musical skills were such a norm that the Duke of Hastings took for granted the idea that they would always be there, a constant presence that would always uplift his house, as he taught Albert everything there was to know about their land.
But as has been said, the Duke of Hastings never considered fatherhood and the various moments that would come with it. He was blindsided by each of his children’s milestones, but none were as shocking to him as the one that started the night a knock came at his door.
-**-
They opened without waiting for an answer, as he knew they would. His wife had long since stopped asking permission to enter his room. They shared a bed still more nights than not, and her room was kept up mostly for show. Though they had not been blessed with a child in years, their “spirited endeavors” as she still liked to call them, had never abated.
He was undoing his cufflinks, watching her closely, planning how best to let events unfold when he caught the look in her eyes. She sat on the edge of his bed, pulling her nightgown around her shoulders. He turned watching her, giving her his best-crooked smile.
“My love?” he said simply, knowing after years of marriage this was the best way to approach her when she had a thought. He was prepared for her to begin telling him about a villager who had approached her with a problem that had upset her greatly. His wife was a caring duchess, and the people had learned over the years the quickest way to the Duke’s ear was through his wife’s bleeding heart. What she actually said brought him up short.
“I think it is time for Cadence to lower her hems, just around the house. So she can get used to them.”
Simon blinked. “Whatever for?”
“So when she comes out this season or next she does not stumble in public.”
“Come out? Daph, she is not coming out anytime soon. She’s too young.”
“Simon,” Daphne could not hide her laugh. “She’s the same age I was when I had my first season and you courted me.”
“No, she’s not, you were much older.”
“I was 21 Simon, the same age our daughter will turn in a fortnight.”
“I meant in experience. You lived life, but all Cadence does is learn instruments. She is not ready.”
“That is perhaps the most ridiculous thing you have ever said. You clearly have forgotten the young girl you married had no idea what was meant to happen in a marital bed. Cadence is at least aware of how babies are made, and you forget she assisted on that birth two years ago when Mrs. Codwell was away.”
“And how did our daughter learn such things,” Simon snapped, suddenly distracted from her original point.
“I told her,” Daphne said casually, undoing her hair, and letting her red locks cascade down her back.
“You what!”
“Well, you could hardly expect the girl to help cover for the midwife during a birth and not have questions. And I vowed when she was born, that I would never make the same mistakes as my mother when it came to our daughter’s education about her body.”
“Daphne!” Simon said, turning back to his dresser and tossing his crovet violently down. “I do not wish to think of our daughter’s body in that manner.”
“You do not have to, my love. You simply must tell me your thoughts on lowering her hems.”
“No. She is too young.”
“I see. And when do you propose we lower them? When she is old and grey? She has to find a husband for security unless you want her brothers to always care for a spinster sister.”
“Daphne! Do you hear yourself! Do you understand what would happen to our daughter if she married? What husbands do to wives?”
“I believe I remember what husbands do to wives, vividly,” she said with a coy smile, getting to her feet and walking to Simon. He turned to embrace her. She placed her hands on his chest.
“Don’t you think,” she said, tilting her head, looking up at him, staring deeply into his eyes. “She deserves a chance to find what we have?”
“Most are not so lucky as you, Bridgertons. Love matches are rare.”
“Hmm,” she said, casting her wide eyes off to the side of a moment before bringing them back to his serious face. “I hear, they are especially rare if you are never even allowed to look for them.”
Simon huffed, looking at the ceiling, feeling his wife smooth down his shirt, brushing away the wrinkles.
“It is simply a small step Simon. We are not introducing her to society. We are simply lowering her hems around the house, so she has a chance to practice, learn to walk in them and such.”
Simon shook his head. Another milestone in his children's' lives had caught him completely by surprise. He leaned his forehead into his wife.
“She’s not leaving us?”
“She will never leave us, my love. Even when she is married, we will see her as often as I see my own family. That is what happens when you are raised in a home with love. Even in married life, you choose to come back to it.”
Simon sighed. “Just around the house?”
“Just around the house your grace.” She said his title with a rye smile and he cracked under her calm demeanor and joy.
“I suppose. If you think it's time.”
“I do.”
“Then you should take her to the modiste.”