Chapter 40 Katherine—My Daughter and I
KATHERINE—MY DAUGHTER AND I
Lydia sits in my bedchamber. We’ve read a story together. It calms her after today. The procedure sounded scarily quiet, except for Livingston’s occasional bumbling.
“Katherine,” she asks as I brush her soft hair. “When will Mr. Thom see?”
I love that she doesn’t ask if, but when. Everyone needs the certainty that children possess. “Lydia, we’ll know more when he awakens, and the bandages come off. Your aunt and uncle might wait a few days to ensure no infection.”
Her lips mouth Infection, as she tries to master the new word.
Whenever Lydia feels sick or is scared, she curls up on top of me. I know it comforts me, and I’m glad I can be that for her.
“Have you seen the dress my Papa Duke has for me to wear tomorrow?”
“A new one? Don’t you have a closet full of them?”
“Not like this one. It’s pink.”
Lydia, in fact, has dozens of pink gowns. I bend and kiss her cool forehead. “Well, I’m sure it will look beautiful. And you deserve to have something special. This is to make up for missing your birthday.”
“I think Papen’ka tries to make up for missing many of them. I don’t want him to tire himself doing too much.”
I lift her face to mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Papen’ka is so good to me. Papen’ka is good to all of us.” She looks up with sheepish eyes. “He seemed a little extra tired and sad. I get scared sometimes.”
Holding her in my arms, I whisper, “He’s strong. And he knows how much you love him. He’ll do his best to remember to keep on his socks.”
“And not go barefoot. Or catch a cold.” The wiggle worm smiles a little more. For one second, it’s Jahleel’s smile.
“How did you meet Papen’ka?”
The way she says Papen’ka over and over, it’s like she doesn’t want either of us to forget. “A long time ago.”
“Tell me more, Katherine.”
Her eyes are large even in the bright candlelight. And she was so good about being still waiting for Thom’s surgery to finish. “I will tell you. It was at a ball.”
“Like Cinderella, or Papen’ka’s Vasilisa?”
“Sort of, but there were no wicked stepmothers. And I wasn’t poor. In fact, I was such a rarity that some thought I was a princess.”
“I knew it. I knew it had to be special.”
“Yes, he rescued me from the guards trying to keep me out. They told me I didn’t belong. He let them know differently. Then we danced. And I knew I was in love when he spun me in his arms.”
The wiggle worm leaps from my lap and spins like she’s dancing with someone. Then she stops in front of me. “Then why did you let him go?”
I swallow hard. “I forced myself to stop loving him. I believed the lies people told.”
“That’s horrible. Lies are bad. Other Grama and Princess Grama would agree.”
“They are, baby, but I was young and free and afraid of losing someone who is sick. I wasn’t very brave. I thought our life would be nothing but sickness. I didn’t want my world to be just us and sorrow.”
She nods, but I don’t think she can understand. I look back now and don’t understand how willingly I threw away happiness and years Jahleel and I will never get back. Yet I guess I just did it all over again.
“Princess Grama said you thought he didn’t tell you on purpose about being sick. Someone you marry has to be honest.”
I fold my arms over my beating, hurting heart. “I know now the duke didn’t truly know. And it was selfish of me to blame him for getting sick sometimes.”
“Yes. It’s not his fault. I don’t want to be sick either.” She pouts a little. Then she peers up at me. “Is that why you didn’t want to be my mother? Because I get sick?”
I lift her into my arms and hold her so tightly. “I always wanted you. I ache every time you’re sick. And I thought your being ill was punishment for how I treated your father. I should be punished, not you, not him. I am so sorry. Sorry.”
“Why should you suffer?” She puts fingers in my tears. Then those little arms go around my neck. I feel her little heart beating, stronger than when she was born. “Why should anyone suffer?”
“Don’t know. Not fair.”
I kiss her cheek. Her birthday was weeks ago, but we haven’t celebrated enough that she’s lived another year. “People have different burdens. Your Aunt Georgina can sing like an angel, but she’s one of the shyest women. No one but Lord Mark will ever hear her voice.”
“Lord Mark is nice. He loves Georgie, so that’s a gift to him.”
“Your Aunt Scarlett has a burning desire to heal the world. But there aren’t enough cures.”
“But new uncle lets her try. That’s a gift, too. If you think long and hard enough, you will see that you and Papen’ka have gifts for each other.”
I set her down and finish plaiting her last braid. “Did he ask you to say that?”
“No. I’m smart. I come from both of you.”
“You are our miracle. I love you, Lydia Jahleelovna Charles. I’m so grateful that you are my daughter.”
A cough makes me look at the door. One of Princess Elizaveta’s servants has opened it, and she stands there. “There you are.”
“Enter, ma’am. Were you looking for Lady Lydia? She’s been with me.”
“Yes, Princess Grama. I’m with Katherine. I really like her again.”
“Her name is Mama, or Mamen’ka, Lydia. You’ll show her respect and address her as such.” The princess’s tone sounds firm.
Lydia sits up straight. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Princess Elizaveta.”
She nods. “My son has told me of the agreement you two have to find new spouses. I disapprove. No marrying strangers. You don’t know what you get with strangers. I’d rather keep you.”
“Nyet.” Lydia stomps her feet. “Mamen’ka and Papen’ka marry each other. No one else. Why can’t we ever be normal?”
“Lydia,” I say. “Calm. No one is marrying anyone.”
“That’s still not normal. Mamen’ka and Papen’ka are supposed to be married and in love.”
“I disagree with and disapprove of these wagers and gambles, too.” The princess comes closer to the vanity. “Did your mother raise a coward?”
“No, Patsy Wilcox did not raise a coward.”
“Hey, that’s other grandmother.” Lydia folds her arms. “She was nice.”
“And she had one husband, four children, one precocious son and three healthy but annoying girls.” The princess frowns at me and lifts my chin.
“That’s normal. And you never know what life will give you.
Don’t let the unknown frighten you. You’ll never be burdened by more than you can bear. I pray for that.”
She comes to me and extends her hand like a scepter. “You make my son happy, crazy, and thoughtful. Go make him joyful and want to keep living.”
“Jahleel is fine. He’s strong.”
“I left him in his study, packing away his treasured chess sets. Jasha lost his faith. Go help him find it. Come along, Lydia.”
“There’s too much …” I want to say hurt, but Lydia’s giving me her sad eyes.
“You gave away Lada. Can’t we keep Papen’ka?”
“Katherine,” the princess says, “you are tied to him regardless. A new husband won’t solve anything. And why burden another woman and her mother with the scandal you made? Fix it. Fix it for me, for Lydia.”
She might as well have added fix it for mother Russia.
The princess kisses my cheek. “You both deserve to make things right finally. Be brave for Patsy and me.”
She takes my daughter’s hand and waves me into action. Lydia crosses her fingers on both sets of hands and mouths Normal.
I sit looking at the doorway to Jahleel’s adjoining room. I stay seated, then dig into the vanity for the papers Lord Ashbrook gave me. I read through them again and find the place with the missing date. If I dated it to Tavis and my wedding or even today, legally, this arrangement would be over.
Perhaps the most normal thing is to put a date on it and make my freedom official.
Yet with the quill balancing in my hand, I can’t write a jot. Instead, I crawl into bed, make a wish, and pray to see the future, to find my missing faith. Then I blow out the candle.