He refused to marry his pregnant sweetheart. His mother stood by him, but his father defended the unborn child.
He refused to wed the girl who carried his child. His mother supported him, yet his father rose in defence of the babe to come.
“Father, I’ve news,” said Thomas the moment he stepped inside. “Our neighbour, Agnes shes with child. Its mine.”
Arthur, his father, paused a moment before speaking calmly.
“Then marry her.”
“You cant be serious. Im still too young. This is no time for familybesides, we were never truly courting.”
“Truly?” His father gave a bitter laugh. “You were man enough to chase after her, but now, when faced with the consequences, youre a boy again. Fine.” Without another word, he called for his wife. “Beatrice! Come here.”
Beatrice entered the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Whats the matter?”
“Listen. Our son has got Agnes, the neighbours girl, with child, and now he wont wed her.” And with that, he crossed his arms.
Beatrice didnt so much as blink. Her face hardened.
“And hes right. Why bring the first girl who comes along into this house? These modern lasses are cunningfind a lad with prospects, trap him with a babe, then demand marriage. Whos to say the childs even his? Let him take a blood test. And anyway, we shant force Thomashes young yet. Hes a manit wasnt easy to resist. But weve no duty to raise anothers child.”
Arthur drew a slow breath and spoke quietly.
“And if it is his?”
“And if it is? Must we bear the burden? Tell him to take the test. Then well see.”
She turned on her heel and returned to the kitchen, leaving Arthur alone with his son.
“Listen,” he began. “I was young once too. I fancied one girl but wed anothernot for love, but duty. A mans life isnt just passion, son. Its choices and their weight. Your mother was with child. I didnt know if I could love her, but I knew thisthe babe was blameless. My blood, my conscience. And mark this, ThomasI never once regretted staying.”
Three months passed. The blood test gave its answer: with near certainty, Thomas was the father of Agness child.
“Well?” Beatrice scoffed when Arthur laid the paper before her. “Aye, its his. But that doesnt mean Agnes sets foot in this house. Not under my roof. Ill not have it!”
Thomas sat silent, refusing to meet his fathers eye. His face betrayed his choicehe stood with his mother. His fists clenched, but he spoke not a word.
Arthur rose slowly from the table.
“Since the two of you have made your choice, now hear mine.”
His voice was low but firm.
“As long as I live, my grandson shall want for nothing. Ill buy land, build a home, and hemy grandsonshall inherit all Ive earned. And you two? Forget my help. Ill have no part in this disgrace. Thomas, from this day, you are no son of mine. All I own goes to the boy. Not a farthing shall you have from me.”
Beatrice erupted.
“Have you gone mad? Youd disown your own flesh and blood?”
Arthur did not answer. He turned and left, deaf to her curses. Thomas stood frozen in the silence, unable to believe his fathers words. Yet he knew one thingif Arthur said it, he meant every word.
