Chapter 23 #2
“What does Mother have to do with this?” Marce’s pensive stare settled on Payton, and for a split second, she was sorry she’d brought up the subject at all. “The baron could not be more different than our mother.”
“It is just, all the time I’ve worked for Lord Ashford”—Payton had to still herself from calling him by his given name—“he’s seemed lost in the depths of despair, unable to see any future for himself, not even to provide for his children.
” It had been the case…before their kiss.
“He shuts himself in his study and ignores his entire household day in and day out. When he does venture out, he is irritable, gruff, and downright contradictory.”
Marce’s brow lifted. “But he is taking his children on an outing today.”
“No—I mean, yes, but he will retreat once more, I am afraid.” She’d nearly misspoken.
“I am certain his wife meant much to him, and he’s become a near recluse since she passed.
He barely knows his children, and they know him not at all.
I suppose my question is, how did Mother deal so wonderfully with loss?
After your father died, Mother quickly purchased Craven House with her dowager settlement.
She went on to have Jude and Sam…and, eventually, me.
All this after losing her husband so suddenly.
She did not hide away from us. She did not give up on life or her future, but she moved on.
Why cannot others do the same, especially when they have been afforded the means to do just that? ”
“What means does the baron possess that you think Mother lacked?”
“A title…healthy coffers…a nice home.” She ticked off the list on her fingers. “And much more. He even has a sister in town, though she doesn’t visit often.”
“Mother had a title and a small allowance, though she lacked a home and had no relations to speak of. At least, none who would assist her and two small children.” Marce sighed. “I do not think she so easily moved on.”
Payton scoffed at her sister’s absentmindedness. “Your father, Lord Beauchamp, my father, and the Duke of Harwich—and likely more that we never had occasion to meet. What of them?”
Lord Buckston, Marce and Garrett’s father, had died long before Payton was born.
Viscount Beauchamp, Sam and Jude’s estranged father, had only been spied across a crowded ballroom and lurking in the shadows at Sam’s wedding.
Even Payton’s own father, Nigel Samuels, was unknown to her.
The only suitor her mother ever allowed near her children had been Julian Delconti, the Duke of Harwich, and after all these years, Payton had trouble bringing the lord’s visage to mind as he’d disappeared as suddenly as the men who came before him.
Payton noted her sister flinch at the name Harwich, but she continued anyways.
“Certainly, she must have loved them all at some point, but when they no longer fit into what she wanted in life, she moved on. I never noted her retreating into herself, she was never in the throes of despair or so sad she slept her days away. She was no stranger to the cruel realities of life…and society. But she had the strength to move on. I remember her always with a smile and a laugh.”
“Yes, life is unpredictable. Many obstacles landed solidly in Mother’s path; however, that did not mean she did not mourn each man when they left, or when she had to push them away.
” Marce inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly, her eyes landing on something over Payton’s shoulder.
“Mother kept us close because family is the only thing that is certain. That did not mean she did not suffer immensely from bouts of loneliness. She was a single woman with a horde of children to raise and not many funds to do it. She did what she thought was best and, in the end, she suffered because she’d died, essentially alone.
And you, Sam, and Jude suffered for never having the opportunity to know your fathers. ”
“I am certain there was a reason Mother kept my father away,” Payton said with mild indignation. “And we know Lord Beauchamp for the fickle man he is. He told Sam he chose another woman, a suitable match, over his twin daughters.”
“The fact of the matter is that Mother kept such a tight hold on us so she wouldn’t be utterly alone.
” Payton saw the immense pain that entered her sister’s eyes at admitting such a thing.
“It is why I have never fought any of you when you set your mind to a future. Sam and Jude selected fine husbands, and Garrett moved to the Albany. When you came to me with the notion of taking a position in the baron’s house, while I was hesitant to allow it, I acquiesced because I knew you were ready for such responsibilities.
To be fair, I am looking forward to a future of my own choosing now that all of you have set out on your own. ”
“What will you do?” Payton asked, though her chest ached to think of a day when Marce would not be waiting at Craven House, her arms wide for Payton to return home.
“Oh, I have not given it much thought.” Marce glanced back at the stack of papers on her desk. “There is plenty of time…plenty of time.”
Once more her sister, while only a few feet away, was not at Craven House—or, Payton suspected, even in London.
“Do you think I made a wise choice?”
“You have made many choices, Payton,” Marce said. “What choice in particular?”
“To undertake the position as the Ashford governess.”
Marce’s eyes settled on her youngest sister, and Payton couldn’t help but lean closer as if whatever her sister said next would hold the key to solving all her dilemmas.
“You have been the baby in our family—” When Payton made to argue the term, Marce held up her hand to silence her.
“I was referring to your age, nothing more. While I had my reservations about you taking the post—truth be told, I still have reservations—this is a time for you to spread your wings and discover what makes you happy. There is much to life that you were unable to explore while living at Craven House. I fear that is my fault for keeping such a tight hold on you. I think I found myself to be much like Mother in some ways.”
The loneliness in Marce’s eyes was enough to bring Payton nearly to tears. How had she never noticed her sister’s isolation at Craven House?
“But none of that matters overmuch as you are doing well in the baron’s employ and remaining out of trouble.” Marce smiled. “I suppose my fears were for naught.”
Payton longed to share all her troubles with her eldest sister, but something kept her from voicing anything.
Perhaps it was Marce’s exhausted slump over her desk or the hollow way she gazed across the room at her.
Something was troubling Marce, and Payton would not complicate things any more than they already were.
She would have to admit at some point that she’d quit her post and would be remaining at Craven House indefinitely, but not today. Today, she’d allow herself some time to grieve—and readjust.
“I will let you return to your work.” Payton stood and hurried to give her sister a peck on the cheek before departing the office to return to her private chambers.
Damon and the children would go on as they always did.
Payton had never been part of their family despite everything.
In quick order, he’d hire another governess, and it would be as if Payton had never been there.
Her room, next to Abram’s private chambers, would be filled with another woman’s possessions.
The baron would, hopefully, at some point allow his guard down and dine with the children, perhaps even go so far as to invite the new governess to his study after Joy and Abram found their beds.
Payton quickened her pace as she climbed the main stairs, keeping her head low as she passed Darla, their housekeeper. Only a few more steps and she’d be in the safety of her bedchamber.
Payton needed to focus on what she’d been meant to do all along: find her own future, forge her own path, and discover what happiness awaited her.
Her time as a governess had served her well to help her determine what that future would entail and the strength she’d need to achieve all she desired.
Missteps, mistakes, and hardships would come her way.
However, one day, when she found a home of her own, she’d look back and know it was all worth the journey.