Lola was pacing when the message came. She had been expecting it for quite some time, but she didn't expect it to arrive in one packet.
India. Canada. America.
The offers were pouring in. The great Lola Montclair was currently not in a show, her theater in shambles and her heart missing the stage. Her colleagues were dead, and she alone remained the last breathing star of the great theater tragedy that had ended up saving the nation.
She needed to get out of the country, but learning she was pregnant changed everything.
“What's that?” Aaron asked, coming up behind her. She quickly pocketed them.
“Nothing. Letters of condolence,” she said quickly. He raised an eyebrow.
“You're a terrible liar, Lola, for an actress.”
“I----” she lowered her voice. He was already dressed to go to Gilles' hanging, which was due to take place this afternoon. His face was neutral about it, but she knew his heart was torn. “They are offers.”
“Offers for what?”
“To go away,” she said. “Take a show on tour. Get out of this country that has caused me nothing but pain of late.”
“Oh, Lola,” he said, softly. “I didn't realize that was what you wanted.”
“It wasn't...” she said. “And I don't want to be away from all of you. However, I do realize that this may be the last chance for me to go. Even if it's just a 2 month tour, a week in each location....after I have the baby...”
“Why do things have to change?” Aaron asked. “Have you talked to Wesley yet?”
“You'd be the first to know if I had,” she answered. “He doesn't know. Any of it.”
“You're not thinking of running away again, are you, Miss Lola?”
“No,” she said. “I will never be away from Wesley again, if I can help it. I'm just...”
“Be a little braver than you are afraid,” he said to her, something she often uttered herself. “Hmm?”
“Not now,” she said, crossing her arms. “Is Wesley dressed?”
“Almost,” Aaron said. “To tell you the truth, he seems rather...stoic this morning.”
“It's a hanging,” Lola said. “You both have a right to be stoic.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “But I trust in my lineage, that I have secured the Bamber title. Harold and I have given our lives to make sure we are not the last generation to walk the house. But as far as Wesley knows, Tannoy is gone and there is no heir. He has failed his father.”
“He hasn't failed his father!” Lola cried, and Aaron touched her shoulder gently.
“Regardless of how much he dislikes his father, that is how he will feel,” Aaron reminded her. “It's bred into every son of nobility to produce an heir.”
“I can't tell him,” Lola protested. “Not yet. Aaron, just give me time and I promise...”
“Are you coming?” he changed the subject, seeing that he wouldn't get too far with her now. “It's not the best place for someone...in your condition...”
“I will see this done,” she raised her chin high. “I just...was expecting the letters. I feel guilty, do you know...for surviving when so many of them are gone.”
“Don't make it in vain,” he said to her, and she sighed.
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, heading upstairs to change. Lola prided herself in being able to hide her emotions, in being in control at all times. Unlike others, she didn't like to be comforted when anxious and frightened, because she felt like she had lost the game of life at that point. She also felt like she had no right to have such emotions today, when there were so many others on edge.
When she had left to walk in the gardens, Wesley had still been at breakfast. They hadn't spoken too much, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. Now, though, he was staring out the bedroom window, his hands gathered behind his back.
“Hello,” she said, softly, as to not startle him.
He barely turned to face her.
“If you were any other woman, I'd tell you not to come,” he said. “This isn't a memory I want you to have.”
“But I'm not any other woman,” she said. “And you knew that from the moment you married me.”
“From the moment I met you,” he said. “I knew that you were not any other woman. Your eyes held a passion, a fire that I had never seen elsewhere. I knew I had met my match in you, Lola Montclair.”
She sank onto the bed, watching him. He was tense, and he still wouldn't face her fully.
“Are you afraid, Wesley?”
“My father used to say being afraid was for the weak; for those destined not to survive.”
“Your father had no idea what kind of hero you would be.”
He turned to face her then, and he looked as if he had lost everything.
“Wesley,” she got up at once, going to put her arms around him. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he kissed the top of her head. “Nothing. I am so glad that you are with me in this moment, though. I know the past few weeks have not been easy for you, Lola. How do you keep such hope?”
“Secrets,” she said, knowing he would just laugh and not take her meaning literally. “I have to change, but I'll be ready to leave shortly.”
“Mmm,” he sat on the bed, clearly not intending to leave. “Do you ever think of our time in the colonies?”
“I do,” she said. “It was quite the adventure. Just the adventure we needed, although not one I'd like to repeat, given that I almost lost you then. Again, here. Could you stay alive, do you think?”
“If I didn't?” he asked, suddenly, and she turned round to him.
“What are you talking about?”
“If you were to be put in a position like Lady Bamber...where you were alone, carrying the title and...”
“Lady Bamber has a child,” Lola said, softly. “A child gives you a reason to survive, when everyone you love is gone.”
“Aye,” he said “But I assumed....you would not want that. It would limit your career.”
“That it would,” she said, looking at him carefully.
“I would never try to limit your career, Lola,” he said. “Not after last time. It nearly tore us apart...”
“My career is proving rather dangerous of late. What if something happened to me?” she asked. He shook his head.
“You gave me a reason to live again. I couldn't be apart from you.”
She nearly sobbed at that, but instead looked away, keeping her composure.
“I'll be down in a moment,” she said, keeping her voice even. “If you wouldn't mind waiting for me? Aaron could use some company, I think.”
“Is he alright?” Wesley rose at once.
“I think so,” Lola assured him. “He just doesn't like to be alone, at the best of times.”
He kissed her on the top of the head at that, taking one last look at her before heading down stairs.
It was only then that Lola looked in the mirror, taking a deep breath. She put a hand on her stomach, which she knew was starting to bulge.
“What am I going to do?” she asked her reflection, softly.
Lola had always known what to do. Choices were always easy, and obvious to her. Until now, at this moment.
She changed as quickly as she could, not wanting to feel her body in the cold air. She didn't want to acknowledge the changes anymore; whatever would be, would be.
She didn't know what Wesley wanted, not really. She barely knew what she wanted anymore.
Eventually, she could pace her bedroom no more. At the bottom of the stairs, the men were waiting. Harold was in his dress blues, while the others in their best clothes. The mood was odd. Not quite a celebration, for death should never be celebrated, but this was the end of a reign of terror.
“I'm glad Father isn't here to see this,” Annabelle lingered in the hallway, to say goodbye to her twin brother. She was staying with the children, the heirs to the Bamber throne, as they eliminated the only other line.
“Are you sure he wouldn't be proud?” Aaron asked. “He would understand that sometimes, one has to do what is necessary.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But he wouldn't have liked that you would witness it. He was kind to us, always wanting our days to be happy.”
“We leave that behind in our childhood,” Aaron said, his tone flat. Lola touched his arm, and he nodded, closing his eyes. “Shall we be off?”
“Don't leave the house until we return,” Harold said, firmly to his wife. “Do you understand?”
“He'll be dead in an hour,” Annabelle said, bravely, as he kissed her. “Then there will be no more danger.”
“Still, just in case,” he said. “You are now our last and best hope.”
“Go,” she said. “Less you miss the whole event.”
The waiting carriage was cramped as they got in, but none of them was in a state of mind to take separate ones. The ride was mostly in silence; the occasional remark to lighten the mood falling flat, until they reached the courthouse. The sentence would come down in 20 minutes, but the gallows was already built, and the crowd was already gathered.
“I didn't expect such a crowd,” Aaron said, as they watched out the window.
“Word has spread,” Harold said “These people know how close they came to death because of Gilles.”
“They give him too much credit,” Aaron said, after a few moments of silence. “This was a giant orchestration. He is a scapegoat and he is the first to be brought to justice. That's all.”
“Aaron, you aren't regretting this, are you?” Harold asked, and Aaron shook his head.
“No,” Aaron said. “I just know what it's like, to be in that position. It doesn't get any easier.”
“Aye,” Harold said, and Lola cleared her throat.
“We don't have to watch, Aaron.”
“We do,” Aaron took a deep breath. “After you, Countess Rippon.”
“I'm still not sure I want you to watch,” Wesley said, as he got out first and helped Lola out. “Death is...”
“I know death,” Lola said. “Don't forget that. I have not lived an innocent life. And death reminds me that we need to be grateful for life.”
“Aye,” he squeezed her hand. “I can see that. Shall we?”
“Harold,” Aaron stopped his best friend just before they walked into the courthouse. “Thank you. For all of this.”
“For what?” Harold asked.
“You took care of my title, of my family, of my house,” Aaron said. “And you didn't punch me when Peckard gave me my life back and therefore took awhile your title.”
“Aaron,” Harold shook his head. “It was never mind. I was always safe guarding it for you. And if you think you should be thanking me, you have clearly forgotten the years that you gave up your freedom for me.”
“Right,” Aaron grinned at him. “The last knock on the head, it did me in.”
Harold rolled his eyes.
“It is good to see you smile again, Lord Bamber, and to walk beside you in public. Welcome back.”
“Aye,” Aaron agreed. “It is good to be back. Shall we put this to rest?”
Harold held the door for him, watching as he headed in. Aaron was slower than he used to be, and a bit thinner. However, he was alive, and that was all that mattered.