After My Husband Died, I Became Pegnant with His Brother's Child

Barely half a year into our marriage, my husband fell in battle.

On the day we laid him to rest, a man bearing his exact visage appeared before me.

He revealed himself as my husband's twin brother.

I returned home with him.

The man was my husband's brother and thus became mine.

I respected and protected him.

Until I noticed a gentle swell beginning to form beneath my dress...

***

"Celia, how'd you sleep last night?"

I was just pinning up a clean blouse when I noticed Henry standing at my doorstep.

I swiftly turned away to cover up.

"Slept fine..." Just some odd dreams left me feeling all sticky.

"Alright then, I'll leave you to it. Got to head down to the courthouse."

Gazing at his face—so reminiscent of my late husband—I found a sliver of solace.

Robin months back, I heard the dreadful news—my newlywed husband Jack Warwick had been killed in combat.

He had died, and not even his whole body was recovered.

I wept bitterly beside a coffin filled with only his old garments.

Everyone knew Jack and I were childhood sweethearts, and our union was a tale for the ages.

But merely six months post-nuptials, my husband was killed on the battlefield.

On the day of his funeral, Henry made his appearance.

Sporting the same looks as my husband, he was Jack's twin.

Superstitions around twins abounded, leading one to stay in London while the other, Henry, was sent off to his grandparents' in the north.

Henry, the one sent away, now saw the family name of Warwick fading, their home nearly deserted.

Yet, Henry was a rising star at court, the youngest judge appointed under the new regime.

I accompanied him to the family's freshly restored estate.

Though Jack was gone, he had confided his guilt about neglecting his brother.

Thus, I decided to make amends on his behalf.

"Celia, between me and Jack, who do you reckon did better?"

His hand, burning hot, clasped around my waist, immobilizing me.

The dream came rushing back.

I forced my eyes open but could see nothing but darkness.

It was pitch black—a dream, nonetheless.

Yet, in my dreams, the man was always there... alas.

That night, I was like a leaf in the wind, restless and unsettled.

Only near dawn did I manage to fall into a deep sleep.

Today was Henry's day off. I figured he'd likely be sketching in his study around this hour.

I made some chicken soup and took it over to him.

Henry hadn't noticed my entrance into his study.

His features were stern, a small red mole accenting his pronounced nose—more refined than Jack had ever been.

As he caught sight of me, he immediately set down his brush.

"Celia."

He approached with a welcoming smile.

"Why don't you take a break? You're always running around, and even on a day off, here you are, busy as a bee."

Though Henry was a tad older than me, I always found myself fussing over him like an elder.

"You've got ink all over your sleeve. Take it off later; let Robin handle it."

Robin was Henry's loyal valet, having served him for years.

This got me thinking about his matrimonial prospects.

"You're not getting any younger. Got your eye on any special lady? If so, I'll play matchmaker. It's always better to have someone caring by your side, rather than just servants."

"If I ever find someone I like, you'll be the first to know. I promise to find a woman just like you, Celia..."

His gaze intensified, making me feel a tad uncomfortable, so I excused myself from the room.

Keeping house with my brother-in-law wasn't proper, no matter how chaste our relations. Idle gossip was inevitable.

It was up to me to find Henry a suitable match.

The Valentine's Day was just around the corner.

I had my maid, Sarah, scout out eligible young women in the city.

I prepared a list for Henry to review, hoping to set up a meeting during the day.

I went to his study looking for him, but he wasn't there.

I figured he might return soon, so I decided to wait.

Despite living here, I hadn't fully explored the grand estate, a gift from the king, crafted with exquisite care.

The study was Henry's favorite retreat; he could spend hours there, lost in his artwork.

Venturing deeper, I stumbled upon a secret door.

I had never noticed this room before.

Driven by curiosity, I gently twisted the stone dial.

The door clicked open.

Inside, it was utterly dark until I lit a candle.

Lifting the candle high, I discovered walls adorned with Henry's paintings.

Every wall was laden with his art.

I ventured deeper, candle in hand.

On one wall, there were portrait after portrait of a woman, unmistakably me.

Captured at ten with a candy apple, sitting under a maple before my wedding, adorned on my fifteenth birthday—each painting depicted a chapter of my life.

Panic clawed at my heart. How on earth had Henry seen me as a child, and why had he painted me? My knees buckled, and I crashed to the ground.

The scalding wax from the candle seared my leg, eliciting a sharp cry from my lips.

"Celia!"

Henry burst into the room, his features stern in the dim candlelight.

Gone was his usual gentle demeanor, replaced now by an icy resolve that could freeze the blood.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude. Curiosity got the better of me."

"No harm done."

"Henry, about these paintings..."

"Those were sketched by Jack long ago in the old manor. I found them recently among his belongings and decided to hang them up."

"I see."

I struggled to maintain my composure, though my voice shook.

Having grown up alongside Jack, I knew well that although he was a master with the bow, he never once wielded a paintbrush.

Yes, Jack, skilled as he was in archery, how could he not have left even his entire body intact?

Henry walked me back to my quarters.

Seated on the bed, my trembling form was a testament to the shock, the sting on my leg a brutal reminder of reality.

Yet, in all my memories, there was no place for Henry.

As the night deepened, that eerie dream visited again.

He clutched at my ankle, his thrusts filled with a desperate ferocity.

"I pine for you daily, think of you always, yet what of you?"

Powerless in the dream, all I could do was dig my nails into his back with all the strength I could muster.

...

When morning came, Henry had already departed for the courthouse.

According to Sarah, he'd be tied up for a while—several young ladies had vanished under mysterious circumstances around the capital, and the king had tasked Henry with the investigation.

To be honest, the less I saw of Henry the better; he seemed to be concealing something from me.

Better he stays busy, hopefully for a fortnight or even longer; the house would be better off without him.

It would give me the perfect chance to find him a suitable match. As his sister-in-law, it was almost like being his mother.

Marriage might help trim his branches if there were any.

Sarah mentioned that the second daughter of the Lancaster house was known for her gentleness and virtue, which was an ideal choice indeed.

I acquired her portrait, planning to show it to Henry once he was less preoccupied.

Suddenly, nausea overwhelmed me, and I bolted outside, retching uncontrollably.

"Milady, what's the matter?"

Sarah brought me a cup of water, urging me to take a sip to settle my stomach.

"It's nothing, probably just something I ate."

"Then I'll have the kitchen prepare some bland soup for supper."

"Disaster, milady! The young master has been injured!"

"What?!"

I hastened to Henry's quarters, where a circle of physicians had already assembled.

"Is he severely hurt?" I asked Robin anxiously.

"The physicians say the arrow was close to his heart but did not pierce it. His life is not in danger."

"Sarah, quickly, fetch the healing salve!"

Henry had been injured during a raid to apprehend the kidnappers of the young women. One of the culprits managed to shoot him with an arrow.

Relief washed over me, thankful that the arrow was not poisoned and had not struck a vital area.

"Milady, I have brought the salve."

The healing salve was part of my dowry, sourced from the Far East, extremely rare and highly effective; money could not buy it anymore.

As Henry lay unconscious, I worried that Robin, a burly man, might apply the salve too harshly. I took it from him and entered the room myself.

Observing Henry's bloody wound brought thoughts of Jack to my mind.

Had he suffered in the same way?

I gently lifted the bandage, opened the jar, and sprinkled the fine powder over his wound.

After applying the medicine, I fetched a fresh bandage and carefully wrapped it around him.

As I wrapped the bandage around his back, I noticed a scar, barely healed, starkly visible.

The placement of that scar coincided almost exactly with where I had clawed at him in my dream.

I scrutinized the wound repeatedly—it was definitely recent, from the last couple of days.

No, it couldn't be. He was Jack's brother, and I was his sister-in-law.

It had to be a coincidence, perhaps a mishap.

Flustered, I hurried out of Henry's room.

A fortnight passed, and the man from my nightmares did not appear again.

Henry spent these days recuperating.

Each time I had those dreams, it was always when Henry was at home.

I had resolved to leave the estate. Whether it was true or not, I could no longer remain here.

"Celia, thanks to your healing salve, I'm nearly well again."

Henry, nearly back to health, came to thank me formally.

"Henry, there's something I must discuss with you."

"Please, Celia, speak."

"I'm returning to my mother's home. My grandmother is unwell, and I need to be by her side."

"Rest assured, Celia, go with peace."

"I don't know when I'll be back. This estate lacks a steward, and I've already found a suitable match for you—the second daughter from the Lancaster household. You can propose whenever you're ready..."

Henry clenched his fists, his voice strained as he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Thank you, Celia."

He left abruptly, slamming the door behind him.

I had never seen him so disturbed; it unnerved me deeply.

Suddenly, another bout of nausea hit me.

Life has been a whirlwind. Once I'm back home, I'll consult a physician to help restore my health.

I returned to my chambers to catch up on rest; I've been unusually sluggish lately.

"Celia, have I not been good enough to you? Why would you think of leaving?"

It was just another dream.

Yet today, the dream felt shockingly vivid.

"Don't leave me... I forbid it... What if I were to keep you here, and cherish you daily, dear sister-in-law...?"

Overwhelmed, I bit fiercely into his neck.

Then darkness claimed me once more.