Chapter 18
Edith sat in the townhouse’s parlor and watched the rain pour.
England had decided that wet and overcast weather would be an appropriate choice. If nothing else, she could at least say even the elements sympathized with her.
She had been holding her needlework for nearly an hour, watching raindrops drip down the windows.
It could not truly be said that she was working on it; she hadn’t made a single stitch since she’d sat down.
The embroidery of a red carnation had remained untouched since the night Laurence had sealed their fate.
A lump formed in her throat as she thought about that night.
In truth, she still couldn’t think about what Laurence had said without bursting into tears. During the day, she could hold herself together for Tilly’s sake, but at night, it would all pour out of her, and she would cry herself to sleep.
Another deluge of rain crashed across the windows, pulling her out of her thoughts. The town was sodden, causing the streets to be quieter.
Truly, she was glad. It meant that not many people had made house calls. She did not know how she would have coped with having to appear presentable to others.
She heard Abigail walk into the room, quietly cleaning, and glanced over at the maid. In return, Abigail gave her a sad smile.
“Can I get you any refreshments, Your Grace?” Abigail asked.
“No, thank you. I don’t seem to have much of an appetite at the moment,” Edith replied.
“I am not surprised, considering recent events,” Abigail said. She picked up Edith’s teacup and paused. “You didn’t drink any of this?”
Edith looked up at the cold cup. “It seems to have slipped my mind.”
“I will get you a fresh one,” Abigail said.
Edith watched her go. She knew she could not continue like this. Something had to change.
“Abigail, could you do something else for me?” Edith called out.
“Of course, Your Grace,” Abigail said, turning back to her. “What is it you need?”
Edith hesitated and turned to look at the rain again, but her mind was made up.
“Pack a small trunk for me and Tilly,” she instructed.
There was a pause. She knew Abigail was processing what she had just requested.
“A… trunk?” Abigail echoed nervously.
“Yes, please.”
“Your Grace, where will you go?” Abigail asked. Her expression was filled with worry, her hands holding the teacup so tightly it was at risk of shattering.
Edith knew the staff worried greatly about her and Tilly.
“We will go to visit the Duke and Duchess of Richmond,” she replied.
“I see,” Abigail said stiffly. “Do you know how long you will be away?”
Edith paused. That, she had not considered. Ava and Christian had always been open and accommodating with her, but she also never wanted to be an inconvenience to her friend.
“I’m not sure,” she sighed. “Pack enough for a few days at least.”
“A few days…” Abigail whispered.
“It should only be temporary,” Edith said, but she wasn’t sure if she believed it.
“Of course.” Abigail nodded, before quickly walking out of the room.
Once Abigail was down the hall, Edith let her shoulders drop. Her eyes welled with tears again. She tried to wipe them away, but it did not seem to have any lasting effect.
She hadn’t felt so low since her parents died. Back then, she had at least had a reason to warrant sympathy. It wasn’t as if she and Laurence were divorced and she would never see him again. It wasn’t as if he had died.
He had just gone back to their original arrangement.
She felt foolish for believing she could ever mean anything more to him. He had made it clear that he only needed her and Tilly to access his father’s fortune.
She hated that Tilly had also been hurt by Laurence’s rapid change of mind. She had noticed that Tilly had begun to consider Laurence her father and had heard her refer to him as ‘Papa’ while talking to a maid.
She dropped her head in her hands and let out a soft sob.
“Your Grace?” Tilly called from the doorway, interrupting her thoughts.
Edith immediately wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. She looked up.
Tilly looked smaller now. The little girl hadn’t smiled for several days.
“Abigail has gone to pack my belongings,” she mumbled.
“Yes,” Edith said. “I’ve decided we should visit the Duke and Duchess of Richmond.”
Tilly nodded, then pursed her lips. “Is… Is it because of something I did?”
Edith’s eyes widened, and she walked over to Tilly. “No, no,” she assured.
“Is it because His Grace hates me now?” Tilly asked, her voice cracking.
“His Grace does not hate you,” Edith said, pulling Tilly into her arms so the little girl couldn’t see her face.
She picked Tilly up and sat with her in the chair facing the window.
“He just needs some time,” she added, holding Tilly a little tighter.
Tilly nodded, burying her face in Edith’s shoulder and crying quietly.
Even to Edith, her words sounded hollow.
The carriage ride to Richmond Estate was quiet. Tilly sniffled on occasion, looking out the window or at the floor.
Edith hadn’t been able to bring herself to look out the window. She didn’t want to see the townhouse disappear or their street become smaller. So she had pulled out her embroidery, which sat in her lap for several miles before she gave up and put it away.
“Will we be staying long with the Duke and Duchess of Richmond?” Tilly whispered.
Edith looked at her and then looked down. “We will stay for as long as we need to,” she replied.
Tilly nodded.
Silence stretched between them until Tilly’s shoulders started to shake. Edith couldn’t take it anymore. She pulled Tilly into her lap and held her tightly, gently kissed the top of her head, and let her cry.
Eventually, the carriage pulled to a stop before Richmond Estate. Edith caught a glimpse of Anthony in one of the windows before he quickly disappeared. Moments later, Ava and Christian opened the door.
“Edith, it’s wonderful!” Ava started, until she took notice of the expression on Edith’s face.
Tilly was still in Edith’s arms, clinging to her.
“Edith?” Christian asked as he took in their state. “Miss Tilly? Is everything quite all right?”
Edith hesitated, opening and closing her mouth. Eventually, she gave up trying to explain.
“Could we stay… for a little while?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Both Ava and Christian looked shocked.
Ava stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Edith, holding her and Tilly tightly. “Stay as long as you need,” she whispered.
Edith nodded, trying to hold in her tears.
“Miss Tilly, why don’t you come this way?” Christian suggested. “I think Luke and Pudding are in the parlor, and Anthony will join you.”
Tilly glanced at Edith, who nodded, encouraging her to go. The girl nodded, and Edith put her down.
“Thank you,” Tilly whispered, before walking away with Christian.
Edith held onto Ava tightly. Once Tilly and Christian’s voices were far enough away, she broke down in her friend’s arms.
“Shh… shh…” Ava said softly, rubbing her back. “It’s safe. You are fine. Christian and I will take care of you.”
“Th-th-thank you,” Edith hiccupped into her friend’s shoulder.
“Of course. Come on, you’ll catch a cold out here,” Ava said, taking out a handkerchief and handing it to her.
Edith wiped her eyes and stepped inside with her friend.
None of the servants had alerted Laurence when Edith left. He only found out two days later, when he overheard the maid informing Tilly’s governess.
That had hurt. Leaving was understandable, and he could not blame Edith for that. But it was heartless that none of his servants had bothered to inform him.
Truthfully, he couldn’t blame them either. He had felt them retreat. Their conversations ceased the second they realized he was within earshot. The townhouse was reverting to its previous state.
England’s perpetually wet landscape was also not helping his mood. He was sure that it had not stopped raining since the charity event.
He had spent another day trying to work, only to be thwarted by his mind. He had been looking out the window for several hours, watching the rain stream down the glass in thick sheets, obstructing his view of the gardens.
He wiped a hand across his face. Work could not distract him. The weather could not distract him. Did he have any hope of overcoming this challenging time?
His eyes were drawn to the red carnation. He had kept it in a small vase in a vain hope of keeping something from that night alive, but it was wilting.
“I need a break,” he sighed, standing up.
Before he could second-guess himself, he picked up a novel from his shelf. His body was moving of its own accord. He stepped into the hallway and flagged down his valet.
“Have the carriage prepared,” he ordered.
“Where are you going, Your Grace?” the valet asked. “To Richmond Estate?”
Laurence felt his stomach sink. The valet was not the only one hopeful that he would go to see Edith and bring her back home. He could see maids pausing their cleaning and other servants watching.
“No,” he said. “I just need to get some air, and I have no intention of getting wet.”
The valet nodded, but the hopeful smile vanished from his eyes. “I see. I shall have everything prepared,” he replied.
Laurence watched him leave. It was as if he could see the man’s steps getting heavier as he walked down the hallway.
He leaned against the doorframe, tapping his head against it rhythmically. Not with the intent to injure himself, but perhaps knock some sense into himself. He desperately needed it.
Eventually, the carriage was prepared, and he stepped inside.
Taking out his book, he tried to lose himself in the pages. For a few minutes, he was able to forget about the charity event, Lord Hargrove, Edith, and Tilly. Maybe this was just what he needed.
But then the carriage hit a familiar bump, and he was flung forward.
“Sorry!” the driver called back, but Laurence was too stunned to speak.
How is it that this woman has permeated my life so completely that a bump in the road reminds me of her?