Work Text:
Constant as the stars above
Always know that you are loved
And my love shining in you
Will help you make your dreams come true
If you asked her family, they would tell you that Kate wanted nothing more than her independence. Kate hasn’t done anything to disprove it in years, it was never the time and the place, and her dreams had no place in reality anymore. She had decided her fate the minute her father died, the minute she saw her family accounts, the minute she gave up her dowry, the minute she sent her letter to the Sheffields. Kate’s life was not her own.
But in the dark of the night, Kate remembered her dreams. She remembered the soft touch of her mother’s fingers against her cheeks and the flutter of her lips on Kate’s forehead. She remembered the tune of her mother’s lullaby. She remembered her father’s laugh and his arms around her while he spins her around. And she wept in memory because that was all she had of them.
She was loved by her parents but she didn’t have enough time to give them that love back. And oh how she wanted to give all her love.
Then she met Mary, and she was terrified. What if this woman from England hates her? Or what if she ruins this for her appa? Luckily for her she never had to think or wonder, Mary took her into her arms immediately and Kate felt loved. Only now, she could give all her love in return, because even if amma was gone… mama was here.
And when they told her mama was with child, Kate was ecstatic. A baby, a sister, a friend. And Kate stuck to her mama all the time, following her around, helping her because she was excited but ever so scared. Because the baby was mama’s … and the fear returned. What if Mary’s love ran out for her now? But it didn’t.
Kate loved and was loved. And she knew her mother, loved her even if she was gone.
She cared for her sister, in awe of how small and soft.
Occasionally, her appa would see her and remind her of fragments of her past she could never remember, “you were like that too. I swear you could fit in the palm of my hand. Except you would always be awake, always alert.”
It was the dream. The one where the love doesn’t stop. Kate; grows up and marries a dashing gentleman, one who loves her like her father loved both her mothers. She would have a family, children and animals running around a small house. Her father would stop by and chase his grandchildren, whilst she and mama and Edwina sat in the drawing room drinking tea and laughing. It was picture-perfect. She would mourn the dreams where a babe lay in her arms, loving her like she loved her mother. That sweet unconditional love, that could never be threatended, even in death.
But she doesn’t have that anymore. She's a spinster, without a dowry, and she has a family to take care of. So Kate locks away her hopes and dreams. Wanting and yearning were for the wealthy, the ones who had the luxury of time. Her family’s happiness was her own, so she takes them to England and tries to solve their problem. Waiting for them to be alright. She gave up that baby, that dream. she gave up chasing an improbable unconditional love of a child, to maintain her father’s love for her family. Besides, she had Newton now. People might think she spoils him, but Newton is who she can be honest with. She cries into his fur at night when she feels alone, she hugs him close when thunder strikes. When she returns to India, he’ll be her companion. Newton is the remnant of that future, he’s all she’ll ever have. No point dwelling on what-ifs and maybes.
If there was one thing meeting her mama taught her, you can love a child that’s not yours by blood. That it was natural, that a child can always be loved. So if she won’t have that love of her own, she’ll give it. She’ll give it to her sister’s children, she’ll give it to the little children when her life as a governess starts back home. She’ll make do. She has to, or else Kate won’t know what to do with herself.
So yes, Kate planned her future to be independent. Not because she wanted to, but because she couldn’t burden others and she couldn’t long for more than what was her lot in life.
The house was calm on a random midsummer’s day. The wind softly flowed through the trees and the birds sang above. And in the main set of rooms, past the stairs and the staff cleaning old paintings, the sound of giggles softly echoed through the halls.
“Oh, my beautiful boy.” On the bed sat the viscountess tickling her son’s belly, kissing the pudgy palms of his hand, nuzzling against his nose. In the months since his birth, Kate felt compelled to do little else but smother him with affection and watch him grow before her eyes. She would hum to him as her amma did, rock him in her arms whilst peppering soft kisses on his head.
“You are the most beautiful boy, aren’t you? I cannot believe you’re real. I love you so much Edmund, as does your father. Never forget.”
“And we love you more than you can imagine.” There he was. Her husband, the dashing gentleman who loved her and reminded her daily of it. “You’re crying…”
“Happy tears, I promise.” Of course, they were happy, she has felt little else since marrying Anthony. And Kate knows, she will seldom feel anything but complete and utter happiness in her life. She just hopes, that her amma and appa could see her now. She hopes they're proud of her. Part of her wants to tell that young girl crying in her bed, mourning her childhood and her future, to hold on.
It gets better, look how much better it gets.
Her husband looks at her with that look in his eye, the one where it seems like he can read her every thought. Maybe he can but before he can say a word, Edmund giggles again.