Chapter 7 #3
He began to twist the ring again, remembering the earlier days.
“It’s odd, when I married her, she seemed so sensible.
Looking back on it now, I see that the things she said to me were just words.
Even if she knew what was sensible and what was not, she could not control her emotions.
We married too quickly. She had known about Diana, and I don’t think she ever believed for one second that I was over her.
I believe that is what made Jane unbalanced. ”
Madeline continued to hold his hand, accepting what he had confessed without pushing him for more. He felt a weight lift inside his chest.
“I cannot believe I just burdened you with all of that,” he said, hoping to lift the somber mood that had descended in the kitchen. “The melodramatic regrets of an old man’s life.”
“You are not old, Adam, yet you keep saying it.”
It was true. He had been feeling his age more than usual lately. Ever since Madeline had arrived.
How could he tell her that she, in all her youthful splendor, by bringing forward the past, had forced him to look inside himself at the man he had become?
Gazing across the table at her cheerful, tender countenance, into eyes that actually saw the old Adam—the young man he once was—he found himself wanting to be that man again. Could he?
For the first time in many years, he felt the scattered remains of his old self bucking within.
Then he reminded himself that Diana was coming, and she was the reason for all this, even though Madeline had been the one to help awaken him and make him see that he could be carefree and happy again, and that he still had much to look forward to.
He began to tell himself that Madeline’s arrival here—and his surprisingly strong responses to her—were happening for a reason.
God had intended it, because if Diana had arrived first and seen the empty shell of the young lover she remembered, she might not have stayed long enough to see things come around right.
That realization disturbed Adam more than he could say. Did he have no confidence in Diana? Did he not trust her to be different this time? To hold true to her commitments?
Suddenly the kitchen door swung open, and both Adam and Madeline jumped. Mrs. Dalton stepped inside, her gaze falling to Madeline’s hand upon Adam’s.
Madeline pulled her chair back and stood, returning to her bread dough which sat like a dry lump of clay on the worktable. She began to knead it again, while asking Mrs. Dalton about the weather.
Mrs. Dalton hinted at nothing untoward—she never would—and rambled on about the hogs being in an awful tizzy over the water trough.
Adam stood up to leave, but Mrs. Dalton stopped him. She wrung her hands together with an uncharacteristic nervousness.
“Mr. Coates, before you go, I wonder if I may have a word with you.”
“Certainly. What is it, Agnes?”
Adam hoped that she did not intend to chastise him for sitting alone in the kitchen, holding hands with his future bride’s younger sister.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but may we speak in private?”
Ah. She was going to chastise him.
He gestured with a hand to lead her into his study.
She followed him inside and paused by the door, still wringing her hands together. “I have something difficult to tell you, Mr. Coates, and I hope you will not be…I hope you will not be…”
Adam fumbled for his handkerchief and offered it to her. She took it and blew her nose. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. You have seen enough of that in your life, sir.”
She was referring, of course, to Jane.
“Nonsense, Agnes,” he replied softly. “What is upsetting you?”
She collected herself and lifted her gaze to meet his. “I am afraid I must leave you and the children.”
The words came at him as if through a tunnel filled with echoes. “Leave us, Agnes? But why? You’ve been with us forever.”
“I have indeed, Mr. Coates, and my years with you have been good ones, the best of my life. I love the children like they were my own, I do. But I have a chance to live in my own house now. I’m to be married, you see.”
Adam had to sit down. “Married? To whom?”
“To a man from Maccan, sir. We’ve been meeting every Wednesday at the market in Amherst.”
Adam took a moment to digest this news. “I have noticed that you’ve been late returning on Wednesdays. I thought you were simply taking more time for yourself.”
“Well, I have been, sir.”
He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Yes, of course you have been. He’s a good fellow, is he? Dependable? Trustworthy? I won’t have you marrying any dangerous or unscrupulous character.”
“He is a good man, Mr. Coates. A widower like you. He owns his own farm.”
Adam leaned back in his chair as the news settled upon him. “The children won’t be happy to see you go.”
“Nor will I be happy to leave them, but I will visit often. I promise you that.”
Adam stood. “Well then. I suppose congratulations are in order. I am very happy for you, Mrs. Dalton. You deserve every joy in life.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her. She buried her face in his chest and wept for a moment.
They stepped apart. “When will you be leaving?” Adam asked.
“The end of the week.”
He felt an ache in his chest. “So soon?”
“Yes, sir. I thought it a good time, since Madeline is here and taking such good care of things.”
“But she’s not staying,” Adam reminded her. She is leaving in a few days.”
Mrs. Dalton blew her nose. “Yes, but I doubt you’d have any trouble convincing her to stay, if you explained the situation.”
His stomach turned over with dread. “But I’ve already offered her a position, and she’s dead set against it. And she’s headstrong, Mrs. Dalton. Surely you’ve seen that.”
“I have, but she’s only headstrong in the face of what she doesn’t want. And she wants to stay here.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just know,” his housekeeper replied. “Any fool can see it.”
Adam shook his head. “Any fool but me. Honestly, I’ve tried to convince her.”
“I reckon you’ll have to try harder, sir.” With that, she walked out.