Chapter 23
The Baron’s Daughter
Rebecca bent to drop her daughter back on the floor, but Harriet didn’t release the fingers that still clutched around the hem of her neckline. She still hadn’t raised her head from her chest.
“Harriet,” Rebecca muttered gently.
Her daughter didn’t answer. Instead, Rebecca felt her grip tighten. Rebecca didn’t have the strength to try to convince her to stay with her governess. She was drained, in more ways than one.
Her eyes were still hot, and she struggled to compose herself.
“You need to come down, Harriet. You haven’t quite finished your lessons,” Rebecca said in Harriet’s ears.
Harriet shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of defiance. Rebecca wasn’t sure she was strong enough to handle even the turmoil that was ripping through her. She definitely couldn’t add Harriet to the situation.
“Is something wrong, Mrs St George?” Miss Grundy asked.
Rebecca looked at the governess. She looked really worried. She could tell something was very wrong. Rebecca shook her head.
“No, nothing,” Rebecca replied.
She had never told a more blatant lie in her life. Her voice was weak and cracked, soaked in emotion. It was now more evident than before that something was wrong.
“Are you sure, ma’am?” she asked again.
Rebecca didn’t speak. She nodded and turned, carrying her daughter. She walked away, and when she was about to go back into the path that led to the house, she spoke.
“I would advise that you go home, Miss Grundy. You can return tomorrow. I don’t have the strength to force this girl today,” Rebecca said.
She had purposely walked far away before speaking, so as to hide how injured her voice sounded. She heard Miss Grundy’s voice, but she couldn’t make out her response. She didn’t care for her response. Rebecca just felt like running into her room and draining her heart with crying. She walked quickly, thankful that Harriet also chose to keep quiet.
Rebecca entered the house, almost bumping into Miss Wendy who was coming out of the house.
“Miss Rebecca,” Miss Wendy said.
“Wendy,” Rebecca blurted.
She dragged her daughter off her, beating her arms where she had refused to let go before dropping her into Miss Wendy’s arms. Harriet cried out, but Rebecca gave her a stern stare that made her shut her mouth.
“Is something wrong?” Miss Wendy asked.
Rebecca didn’t know how to respond. A lot of things were wrong.
“Is he gone?” Miss Wendy asked.
Rebecca nodded. He was gone, and she wasn’t sure if he would be willing to come back anymore. She had told him, and it had been a disaster. She turned away from her maid and ran into the house. She went up the stairs and burst into her room, not bothering to shut the door. She flung herself on her bed as she heard the door slam into its place.
Immediately her body hit the bed, she broke down in tears. She had thought telling themselves everything would be the solution, that it would bridge the gap in some kind of way and reduce the pain. Her heart didn’t hurt any less than it had since Arthur left six years ago.
Yes, it was good that Arthur had told his side of things. There was very little blame that she could place on him. His sister had been the orchestrator of it all. But now she had told him Harriet was his daughter, and he had acted in a way she hadn’t predicted. She couldn’t tell what his eyes read when he stared at her carrying Harriet.
He hadn’t said anything about claiming her. He hadn’t even spoken as if he believed her.
What if he thinks I am lying?
There was a gentle knock on the door. Rebecca turned back to look at the door. It opened gently, letting in her maid.
“Is she asleep?” Rebecca asked.
“What happened to your voice?” Miss Wendy responded.
“Is she asleep?” Rebecca repeated.
“Yes, she fell asleep immediately her head touched the pillow. What happened out there? What happened with her?”
Rebecca turned and sat up. She didn’t know where to begin. A lot had happened.
“Arthur happened,” Rebecca managed to mutter.
Miss Wendy walked to the bed and sat down. Rebecca saw the bed depress where Miss Wendy’s weight pressed in.
“You told him?” Miss Wendy asked.
Rebecca nodded. Yes, she had. Now she was almost wishing she hadn’t. She had expected him to take it calmly.
Female children didn’t matter. Did they?
But Arthur had behaved strangely. He had reacted like she had stabbed him in the back. He had been reeling from rehashing the deep aches of the last six years, and she had shown him her deception once again.
“What did he say?” Miss Wendy asked.
Miss Wendy had taken Rebecca’s hand in hers now. Her hands were hard. Her palms were tough and rough, calloused with years of use.
“Nothing, he said nothing,” Rebecca said.
She remembered as Arthur had slid down the wall, falling like a man dejected.
He was opening his heart to me again, and I showed him another reason why he shouldn’t.
“Talk to me, Rebecca. You have to talk to me,” Miss Wendy said.
Rebecca nodded. Miss Wendy could provide her advice.
“When he came up into the room, we first talked about his side of the story, how and why he had left for London,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy just nodded. Always an astute listener, she didn’t interrupt as Rebecca repeated Arthur’s side to her, just the way he had told her.
“Do you believe him?” Miss Wendy asked.
“Completely,” Rebecca answered, “what is there not to believe? There is nothing that looks or sounds untrue in his account. Both of us know that Lady Teresa is a malicious woman.”
Miss Wendy nodded. She agreed with Rebecca’s reasoning.
“Did you poke holes in what he was saying? Did you ask questions?” Miss Wendy asked.
Rebecca shook her head.
“I only asked questions that I thought were fitting, not to certify the credence in his story. He was saying the truth, Wendy,” Rebecca answered.
She remembered the strewn state that Arthur’s face had been in during some particular parts of his story telling. Those were obviously the points during which he had been hurt the most, like when he mentioned how she got married just three months after he had left. Despite how he tried to hide it, she could hear the anger and raw pain behind the faux façade of calmness. That was even when he got angry and started shouting.
We had both shouted.
Yes, Rebecca decided. She believed him. And he was telling the truth.
“So when he finished what happened?” Miss Wendy asked.
“I started talking too, about some things that happened. I couldn’t keep the secret in me anymore, Wendy. A man like Arthur deserves to know his child,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy nodded. It was obvious she agreed with Rebecca’s line of reasoning.
“So you told him Harriet wasn’t the fruit of your sham of a marriage, that she was his?” Miss Wendy asked to confirm.
Rebecca nodded.
“I didn’t expect his reaction. If he had flared up and gotten angry at me, it would have been easier to deal with, but that isn’t what happened. Arthur sort of withdrew,” Rebecca said, staring outside the open window in wonder of what his reaction could possibly mean.
“He didn’t say any angry word. He said the deed was done. There was no point getting angry.”
Miss Wendy smiled.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Rebecca answered, “Then he went down.”
“He went where?” Miss Wendy asked.
“I thought he had gone home and walked to my window, hoping to hear and see his horse’s gallop, but after a while that I didn’t, I ran downstairs to meet him. I still met his horse tied, but I remembered that he had seen Harriet’s teacher come to pick her up. I quickly sought them out, and I found him with Harriet in his arms. She was struggling and wanted to drop down to her feet.”
“He carried her?” Miss Wendy asked.
“Lifted her by her waist. But I don’t know if it was because she isn’t used to him, she wanted to get back down to her feet. And Arthur was not ready to let her go,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy burst into soft laughter. She composed herself rather quickly and spoke up.
“Do you blame him? A man had just been told he had a daughter, and he runs to have her in his arms, just to really see her with his new eyes and you are upset? What are you upset about?” Miss Wendy asked.
“You don’t understand,” Rebecca answered.
“Make me,” Miss Wendy replied.
“I snatched Harriet away from him, just like I had hidden her away from him for years. I watched his eyes grow dark, and I knew I had done something wrong,” Rebecca answered.
“Did Harriet want him to carry her?” Miss Wendy asked.
“No, she didn’t want that. She was startled by his surprising behaviour,” Rebecca said.
“So why do you blame yourself for taking your daughter away from him?”
Rebecca smiled.
“You do not understand, do you?” Rebecca asked.
“Understand what?” Miss Wendy responded.
“Harriet is not just my daughter. She is his daughter too. Arthur was just coming around to appreciate that when I was there to cleave her away from him,” Rebecca said in a shaky voice.
“The girl was startled by him,” Miss Wendy said, sounding rather exasperated.
Rebecca was about to respond again when they heard a knock on the door.
“Who’s that?” Rebecca called out.
“It’s Greta,” the voice answered.
“What is it, Greta?” Miss Wendy said in a very impatient voice.
“You wouldn’t believe who is here to see you, Rebecca,” Greta answered.
“Who?” Rebecca replied.
“Isn’t your father the Baron Zouche?” Greta asked.
Father? Father is here.
Rebecca refused to believe Greta although she knew that though Greta was a huge gossip, she didn’t lie. She stared at Miss Wendy with mouth agape. Miss Wendy didn’t look any better than Rebecca so Rebecca turned back to the door. She jumped off the bed and walked to the door. Opening it, she stood face to face with a smiling Greta. Greta looked elated at the turn of events.
A great source of gist for a long while, no doubt.
“Are you serious? Greta, if this is a joke, please stop it now,” Rebecca replied.
“Rebecca, have I ever lied to you?”
Exactly, you haven’t.
Rebecca turned back, still shocked, to look at her maid. Miss Wendy seemed to have gathered her composure. She was on her feet and standing with arms akimbo. Rebecca placed her hand on Greta’s wrist and drew her into the room. Hastily, she shut the door.
“Where is he?” Rebecca asked.
“In the sitting room. You have a striking resemblance with the Baron, Rebecca. You really are his daughter,” Greta said.
Her eyes fleeted from point to point in the room as she spoke. They never rested on one point for too long. Rebecca knew that Greta was taking in as much information as she could now that she was in the room. She would surely use it to fortify her stories when she started spreading them. Greta’s big mouth was why Rebecca had never let her into her room before now.
“Did he come alone?” Miss Wendy asked.
Greta nodded. Her eyes seemed to have finished their stock taking and were back on Miss Wendy and Rebecca.
“Does he look angry?” Rebecca asked.
The question sounded silly the moment it left her mouth, but for a lack of an ability to withdraw it, she said nothing more. Greta burst into laughter. She placed one hand on her chest and calmed herself down.
“How does he look when he’s angry?” Greta asked.
“Don’t bother about that, Greta. Thank you for alerting us; tell the Baron we’ll be down at once,” Miss Wendy said.
She walked to Greta and with a hand in the small of her back, led the cook out of the room. She said another ‘thank you’ at the door before slamming it hard. Miss Wendy then turned and rested her back on the door. Rebecca saw at once that Miss Wendy was also unprepared for the Baron’s visit.
“What is wrong, Wendy?”
Miss Wendy grinned.
“Nothing should be, but it has been a while since I have left the Baron at home,” Miss Wendy said.
Rebecca smiled. Her father was sitting downstairs, and here were two normally very bold women, shaken to their petticoats.
“Let’s go, Wendy,” Rebecca said before walking to the door.
Miss Wendy moved to the side, resting her back on the wall beside the door now. Rebecca took a deep breath and opened the door. She took a step out before turning back to her maid.
“Wendy,” she whispered, “Father has been waiting a while.”
Miss Wendy nodded and moved to the doorway. She walked out behind Rebecca and shut the door as quietly as possible. Rebecca led the way. She measured each step, walking gingerly till she got to the stairwell. She walked down the stairwell and was already stretching her neck, trying to see around the turn before she got to the last step. Rebecca turned back and saw Miss Wendy behind her. Her face was fine now. The fear she had shown in the bedroom upstairs now untraceable.
Rebecca walked into the sitting room and came face to face with her father. This was the first time she was seeing him in five years. He had aged, but he was still graceful to look at.
“Father,” was all she could mutter.
Rebecca thought she could handle the emotions. But she couldn’t tell if it was the shock of seeing her father after so long or if it was an overflow of emotions from her episode with Arthur, Rebecca ran and fell into her father’s arms. He was still strong because he caught her well and held her tight. Tears streamed down her eyes as she held on tight to her father’s broad shoulders. He smelt of her mother’s lavender oils and that familiar scent that her house carried. Even though the bristles on his face scratched hers and made her somewhat uncomfortable, Rebecca was scared to let him go. She didn’t until he had to pull her away.
When she leaned back and stared into his eyes, she saw the minor differences. He was surely older. The crinkles at the edge of his eyes were more plentiful and permanent now. She could see a sprinkling of grey hair, hiding themselves in his eyebrow. Even the hair on his head had a greater presence of grey. His forehead formed creases much more easily, and the smooth skin behind his hands had surely wrinkled much more.
“Father,” she said and threw herself at him again.
“It’s alright, Rebecca. It is alright now,” he said.
What does he mean?
Unsure of what he meant by it being alright, Rebecca moved backwards from him. She walked to the chair and sat down, waiting for her father to take a position opposite hers. Miss Wendy walked to her father and curtseyed.
“My Lord,” Miss Wendy said as she curtseyed.
“Wendy, you look good,” the Baron replied.
He sat down, not opposite Rebecca but beside her. Rebecca could feel the smoothness of his silk shirt rub against her elbows.
“Father, is something wrong?” Rebecca finally asked.
“What do you mean?” the Baron replied.
Rebecca smiled.
What do I mean?
“Well, we haven’t seen each other for the past five years, Pa. You have never been here once.”
The Baron smiled.
“Oh, that was what you meant. Can’t I pay my daughter a visit?” he asked.
“Pay your daughter a visit?” Rebecca said.
She repeated it as anger started to plant itself in her. Her father decided after five years that this was the right time to pay her a visit. He was right on time. She forced a smile.
“Well, you picked a very good time to do so,” Rebecca said.
Her tone had been hard, and she was unable to keep her displeasure away from her voice. Her father looked at her, and though she saw that his face was serious, his eyes were twinkling.
This isn’t funny. Why is he finding it funny?
Rebecca turned to her maid who was staring with a very serious look. She didn’t open her mouth but her eyes pleaded with Rebecca to calm down. Rebecca turned back to the Baron.
“You seem upset,” her father said.
“Upset?” she said. Her voice was now higher than it had been since Arthur left.
“What is there to be upset about? Is it the fact that you left your daughter to face life alone with her daughter? Or the fact that you do not even seem apologetic about it? I shouldn’t be upset,” Rebecca said.
Her father just stared at her. He didn’t respond.
“Miss Rebecca, please calm down,” Miss Wendy said.
Rebecca didn’t like the fact that Miss Wendy seemed to be taking the Baron’s side.
Why won’t I be upset?
Rebecca nodded. If her father was just here to see how she was faring and manage to irk her at the same time, then he had succeeded and should really be taking his leave.
“I know there is a lot to get angry about, Rebecca,” the Baron said.
Rebecca looked at him from the corners of her eyes.
“There is a lot to be sorry about too,” he said.
Rebecca dropped her gaze to the ground. He should never have let her face life without his help. That was what hurt her most, that when she needed her parents’ guidance, they had decided to let her be.
“I spoke with the Countess. She sent for me, secretly, asking me to come so she could explain some things to me. Open my eyes, as she called it,” Baron Hugh Fitzroy said.
Rebecca looked into his eyes and broke down. She covered her eyes with her palms and wept into them. The Countess had surely told him everything.
“What did she tell you?” Rebecca managed to say between sniffs.
“She explained a part of your side of the story, the part she had deciphered. She told me to speak to you, so I could listen to your side of the story,” the Baron said.
Rebecca nodded. She had no handkerchief here. She had left it due to her lack of composure when leaving her room to see her father in the sitting room. The hurt of being left alone started to creep back into her. She thought she had buried it deep within her, but now it was starting to resurface again.
“So if she didn’t talk to you, you probably would never have come,” Rebecca said.
“Rebecca,” Miss Wendy said, in a warning tone.
“No, leave her be, Wendy. She has every right to be angry,” he said.
“Yes, I do. And you don’t know how angry I am,” she said.
There was a bit of silence. No one wanted to break the quiet. No one wanted to go first.
“I was also angry, Rebecca. You refused to come home no matter who I sent to you. Then I learnt that you were getting married to an old clergyman, and I decided you were just out to stain the family name. You have to understand how I felt. My daughter, the daughter of a Baron was getting married to a widowed clergyman. You were one of the smartest chits I knew in the entire of England, and you were settling so low. I was hurt and angered,” the Baron said.
“That is just what it looked like Father. That isn’t what it is if you understand the story from all sides,” Rebecca said.
“Yes, I know that now. I should have been more discerning. I was planning to come and whisk you away even still, but when I heard you were pregnant with his child, I decided to leave you be.”
Rebecca shook her head. She felt bitter inside. No one should ever leave his offspring.
“Did the Countess tell you why I refused to come home?” Rebecca asked.
“She didn’t. All she asked is that I listen to you, that I hear your side of the story. Please daughter, talk to me,” the Baron said.
Miss Wendy stood up. She looked to be about to leave.
“Where are you going, Wendy?” the Baron asked.
“I decided to give the two of you privacy sir,” Miss Wendy said.
“Stay,” Rebecca and her father said simultaneously.
Miss Wendy broke into a wide smile when she saw this.
“I am sure you know most of what we are going to discuss, so there is no point in you leaving. You are a part of the family,” the Baron said.
He stretched his hand and held his daughter by her hand. His fingers slowly moved until they were interlocked with Rebecca’s.
“I couldn’t come back home, Pa. I was pregnant,” Rebecca said.
The Baron’s eyes jumped, but he said nothing and still maintained his composure.
“If I had come home, I would have brought disrepute to you and the Baroness,” Rebecca said.
“Before you got married?” he asked.
Rebecca smiled snidely.
“Long before I got married,” she said.
She went into a long explanation about why and how she had decided to leave home. She explained, baring all her heart to him on how hurt she had been when she realised that he was going to leave her to her life.
“I understood that you were angry, Father and that you felt that I was just a disobedient daughter, but you should have given me the iota of doubt. You should have realised that I have always been a sensible girl,” Rebecca said.
“Yes, you have. Yes, you have,” the Baron said, squeezing her hand tightly.
By the time she was done speaking; his eyes were shining with tears that refused to fall. He kept shaking his head.
“I am sorry, Rebecca.”
Rebecca turned to her father, amazed that those words had found their way out of his mouth. She had already forgiven her father. She had done that long ago and had admitted that she might never hear him apologise. Now he had come all the way to the church and still said the words that she had never expected to hear. Rebecca couldn’t hold in her emotions anymore and wrapped her hands around his neck. Her father moved closer to her and held her by the waist too.
He pulled her closer till her head rested on his shoulders.
“I am so sorry,” he repeated.
Rebecca shook as the emotions started to wash over her. She felt light inside and suddenly free.
“Mother,” a small voice said from behind her.
Rebecca released herself from her father’s arms and turned around to see Harriet. Miss Wendy was holding her. Harriet was staring, wide-eyed, obviously surprised to see her mother in such a state.
“Are you alright, Mother?” Harriet asked although she didn’t come closer.
Rebecca rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm. Failing to dry her face of the tears, she stopped trying.
“I’m fine, Harriet. Your mother is very fine,” she replied in a shaky voice.
“If you are so fine, why are you crying? And who is that man?” Harriet asked, looking up to the Baron.
“I’ve stopped crying now, haven’t I?” Rebecca said, even as a rebellious sniff found its way within her words.
“And this is Grandpa,” Rebecca said, tapping her father on his shoulders.
“Grandpa?” Harriet said.
“Yes, Grandpa, he’s come to pay us a visit,” Rebecca said.
“You told me Grandpa lived on the other side of the town, and we might never get to see him,” Harriet said.
She was out of Miss Wendy’s arms and was halfway across the room. She looked completely intrigued by the presence of a man her mother was now calling Grandpa.
Rebecca turned and met her father’s gaze as Harriet said that. He smiled so Rebecca smiled back.
“That has changed now, Harriet. You are going to get to see a lot of him and Grandma now,” Rebecca said.
Harriet walked into her mother’s arms and stared at the Baron from the security of her mother’s embrace.
“Now, go meet Grandpa,” Rebecca said, gently nudging her daughter to move to meet her father.
Harriet moved gingerly, eyeing the man suspiciously at first. But she soon overcame her fears and walked into the sturdy arms of the Baron Zouche.
Rebecca was still watching, mesmerised minutes later when her daughter’s giggles were all that could be heard as her grandpa tickled her by the sides.
Everything is almost perfect.
About an hour later, Rebecca was walking alongside her father out of the house.
“Why don’t you come over? Even if it’s not permanently but just for a visit, just to see your mother,” the Baron said.
His eyes pleaded with her, and Rebecca did yearn to see her mother. Her mother had never been staunchly against her, but she had to bend to the will of her husband. Rebecca was about to say a big yes when she remembered. She still had unfinished business.
“I am sorry, Father, not today.”
She turned to her daughter.
“Would you like to go with Grandpa, Harriet?” she said, stooping to her daughter’s height.
Harriet’s eyes lit up like a shooting star.
“Yes, yes, I would like to go. I’ve always wanted to see what a big house looks like. Can I go, Mother?” Harriet asked.
Rebecca nodded. She looked at her father who could barely hide his wide smile.
“Yes, you can go,” Rebecca answered.
“You are coming along, right?” Harriet asked, looking up to her mother.
“I’ll come and meet you there. I have something I need to do,” Rebecca answered.
“You do?” Miss Wendy asked from behind her.
“Yes, Wendy, I do,” Rebecca said.
*******
Rebecca stood by her windowsill and watched as her father’s coach rode out of the estate and down the road. She could still see Harriet’s tiny hands, shaking from side to side. She hadn’t stopped waving. Rebecca couldn’t take the smile off her face. Despite how sad and sombre the day had started out, it had turned out pretty well.
I had never imagined that the day would come when my father would ask me for my side of the story.
Rebecca moved backwards as the coach was now out of eyesight. She hoped she could solve the other problem as quickly as possible so she could join her daughter at her house in Zouche.
The room’s door opened, and someone walked in. Rebecca knew it was Miss Wendy.
“Why didn’t you leave with them?” Rebecca asked without turning back.
Miss Wendy walked up to her, taking a place beside her. Rebecca could see her staring out of the window too.
“I was hired to be your maid, Rebecca. Harriet doesn’t need a maid. And I still wasn’t sure that you didn’t need one,” Miss Wendy said.
Rebecca laughed and turned back to her. Miss Wendy really knew how to throw those verbal jibes.
“She’ll be okay at home. My fear is even that Mother will suffocate her with too much care,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy laughed.
“Yes, your mother is perfectly capable of that,” she replied.
“Harriet is an independent one, though. She’ll handle herself,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy sighed. Rebecca turned to her maid. Miss Wendy was still looking outside.
“What are you staring at?” Rebecca asked.
“The sun.”
Rebecca chuckled.
“Why are you looking at the sun?”
“It’s on its way down. The night is less than two hours away,” she replied.
Rebecca didn’t know what that meant.
“So?”
“You mentioned some unfinished business,” Miss Wendy said.
“Yes,” Rebecca answered. She did have.
“Arthur?” Miss Wendy asked.
Rebecca nodded.
“What do you want to do?” Miss Wendy asked.
“Father’s visit made me realise that nothing is unsolvable. Arthur was unpleasantly shocked when I told him the truth, but I needed to tell him. He deserved to hear it,” Rebecca answered.
Miss Wendy turned away from the window and went to sit on the bed.
“I agree. But that hasn’t informed me on what you want to do,” Miss Wendy said.
“I want to talk to him. He still thinks I am a liar, that I cannot be trusted,” Rebecca said.
“How do you know that?” Miss Wendy asked.
“I saw it in his eyes. He was so hurt that I couldn’t bear meeting his gaze. Even if he doesn’t forgive me, I couldn’t bear the thought that I didn’t do my best to make things right.”
“Can you accept it if he doesn’t forgive you?” Miss Wendy asked.
“I have to try,” Rebecca answered with a small voice.
“But you have to admit that there is a possibility that he doesn’t forgive you. That he throws out everything you have told him as lies. Can you bear it?” Miss Wendy asked.
I can’t.
Rebecca closed her eyes shut. It felt better not to think about such things. She couldn’t take it; she knew she couldn’t. But knowing that Arthur was right there and she didn’t try to fix things with him would surely kill her faster than his rejection.
“I prefer not thinking about that,” Rebecca answered.
Miss Wendy cleared her throat.
“You still love him, don’t you?” Miss Wendy asked.
Rebecca turned and looked at her maid. Not once since they had been together had Miss Wendy ever asked her that question. She didn’t even ask it when it was glaring. Now that there was no stable ground, Miss Wendy was asking her what she felt for Arthur.
“I don’t know,” Rebecca whispered, even though she knew. She knew exactly how she felt for Arthur deep down inside her. She knew and it had never changed.
“Of course, you do. I think I do too, but I need you to admit it. Facing your fears is better than letting them have the run of you.”
Rebecca took a mighty deep breath and sighed. She looked at her maid’s eyes, and they were unyielding. Miss Wendy wasn’t going to let this go.
“Do you still love him, Rebecca?”
Rebecca tried to speak, but her lips could only manage to tremble. She couldn’t manage to form the words. She knew it wasn’t rational. She had endured too much pain and hurt. She had been rejected and had lost her status and her family. She had only been able to see her father today again, after five years of separation. All these she had suffered because she had dared to love a young man whose sister had a perfect hatred for her.
Even with all this suffering, she still loved the man. She loved his dark hair and his hairy face. His moustache didn’t hide the young boy she had fallen in love with more than a decade ago. And when he had shown the soft side of himself earlier that day in her room, her heart had gone out to him. She had wished she could dip her hands into his heart and scrape away all his pain. Whether she still loved him was not in doubt. If she could admit it was what she wasn’t sure of.
“I cannot answer that, Wendy. Please don’t ask me,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy shook her head.
“I don’t want you getting hurt,” Miss Wendy said in a voice that was hollow with fear.
Rebecca looked at her maid with an intense love for her. Miss Wendy would always look out for her.
“I’m already hurt, Wendy,” she said.
Even to her, her voice had never been sadder, but her words had also never rung truer.
“I don’t want you walking into a situation from which you would only come out more damaged than this,” Miss Wendy said.
She gripped Rebecca’s hands and drew her closer.
“You need to accept things the way they are. You are back on good terms with your father. You are once again the Baron’s daughter. Please do not hurt yourself anymore,” Miss Wendy said.
She didn’t use any pleading word, but Rebecca had never felt so inclined to respond positively to someone begging her. The only thing was her mind was made up. She drew her hands away from Miss Wendy’s grip.
“You don’t understand, Wendy.”
“Then explain to me, explain why you are willing to open yourself to years of pain that should have been sealed in a vault inside here,” Miss Wendy said, pointing her fingers to the middle of her chest.
“A vault that should have been shut permanently by now so you can move on with your life. Shut so you can remain unhurt for the rest of your life,” she continued.
Rebecca chuckled. It was a painful laugh, but that was the best reaction she could manage.
“Well, the vault is open now, isn’t it? I thought I had moved on from Arthur until he came back into this town and I found myself running to his father’s burial. You would think I went there because of the intense respect I have for the late Earl. Yes, that’s a good excuse that can work. But I knew inside me why I was going. I knew Arthur would be there, and I knew even if no one recognised me, Arthur would. That was me, when I thought I had moved on and had everything in the vault you were speaking so dearly about,” Rebecca said.
Her voice was shaking now, and she was feeling very emotional. She expected Miss Wendy to speak, but Miss Wendy didn’t look like she had anything to say.
“Father showed me today. The best way to deal with your fear is to face it. I’m going to meet Arthur,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy’s eyes cringed as she stared at her ward in apparent wonder.
“You want to go to the Earl’s house in the middle of the town. How would you get to him without his evil sister finding out?” Miss Wendy asked.
Rebecca thought about it, and even to her, her plan sounded completely foolish. Where was she to meet with him? If she got to his estate, how was she to communicate to him that she was where she was? How would she avoid his sister?
“I can see that you are starting to see how foolhardy your plan is,” Miss Wendy said.
Rebecca agreed with her on that point.
“You are right,” Rebecca admitted.
“It doesn’t make a difference, though. I am still leaving. And I am going today,” Rebecca said.
“This is crazy,” Miss Wendy said.
“Yes, I know, very crazy,” Rebecca admitted.
Miss Wendy looked outside the window again.
“If you are going anywhere, isn’t it high time you left? It’s almost nightfall,” Miss Wendy said.
Rebecca shook her head.
“I’m going to wait a bit. I don’t want to be recognised by unfriendly eyes when I get there; it is better I leave close to dusk or by dusk,” Rebecca said.
Miss Wendy was shocked.
“Are you hearing yourself, Rebecca? You are a woman for goodness sake.”
Rebecca nodded. It didn’t matter that she was a woman. Her gender had never stopped her from doing anything.
“I’m going to talk to Arthur tonight, Wendy. The least you could do would be to pray for me.”
Miss Wendy walked to the door and turned the knob, opening the door.
“You’re going to need much more than prayer, Rebecca,” Miss Wendy said.
She shook her head and let herself out of the room. Rebecca turned back to look at the sinking sun. She had never felt so unsure in her life.