Chapter 43 Jahleel—The Daring Duo
JAHLEEL—THE DARING DUO
Lydia follows me outside the drawing room. The sensitive child suspects I’ve tired myself or knows everything is not festive at the party.
She’s right. I have an appointment at ten, and it won’t be pleasurable. Trying again to use my cane as a decorative aesthetic, not support, makes me slow. My steps become shorter and heavier.
Not good. However, the little one catches me more easily. I wish she’d stayed at the party. The meeting is dangerous.
“Papen’ka. Papen’ka, I think we need to talk.” The cherub’s serious face draws my concern and a little-needed humor.
I look for Steele or a sister to escort her back to the party, but I don’t want her wandering into trouble. “You shouldn’t have followed.”
“This is important. It could not wait.”
I must take her seriously. She must never forget that I always had time for her. Against my better judgment and a bit fearful that she’ll interrupt my appointment, I say, “To my study, Lady Lydia.”
Frowning, she follows. We head inside, but I leave the door cracked.
Then I sit on the edge of my desk and take in the emptiness of my leather blotter.
My desk looks so wrong, so lost without the jade chess pieces.
Safely put away in my hidden room, an errant guest or blatant thief won’t claim my sets.
And if anything goes wrong tonight, they will be safe for Lydia and my Wilcoxes.
I glance down at my little princess. “So tell me what has you fretting, Lidochka.”
“Papen’ka, we’ve known each other for a few years.”
“Da. Several. Almost immediately, when I came to Ground Street, you singled me out. And I, you, as the companion of my future life.”
Lydia’s button nose wrinkles. She blinks. “Does all those words mean you agree with what I said?”
Clearly, no one has read her A. Lady’s works. Lydia must come to enjoy Pride and Prejudice later. “Da, Lidochka. I’ve known you three years.”
“Well, that’s a long time. About half my life.”
The innocence of her expression doesn’t capture how precious this time has been. “You should trust my opinion,” she continues. “I don’t ask for … for too much. Well, not for too big of things.”
“You’re an angel. Your requests are modest, except for the elephants.”
“But you brought them for my last birthday. You can do anything.” She frowns for a moment. “That must mean Mamen’ka not being your wife is my fault.”
Her bodice rustles as she puffs her chest up. “My fault. I take the blame … my fault. You don’t know that I’ve forgiven Katherine. I mean my mother.”
“That’s excellent. She needs—”
“Nyet.” She points at me. “But you haven’t. That’s why you haven’t danced with her at all. You’re talking to other ladies.”
The accusations in her tone are sharp. She sounds betrayed.
“I’m social, Lidochka.” I shift on the desk, trying to figure out how to explain why two people who love each other aren’t together.
“Katherine hasn’t indicated that she wishes to partake. She seems content sitting with my mother. I must have consent. I can’t assume.”
“Scarlett used to tell me boys were stupid. I didn’t want to believe her. You could simply ask Mamen’ka.”
The clock over the mantel says 9:45. There’s enough time to walk her back and make my meeting. “So you want me to dance with Katherine? Will that make you happy?”
“It’s a start, Papen’ka. You should marry her again. That’s my birthday wish.” She waves her hand to me as I do servants. “Now go on, go and do it.”
If it were only that simple. “One day, you’ll understand. One day, you’ll want to marry. You’ll pick someone who loves you so much that you never want to part …”
My daughter’s eyes have reddened. She looks so upset.
“Dorogaya, my dorogaya. What is wrong?”
“I thought you liked me.”
I’m off the desk, kneeling, scooping her into my embrace. “I love you. You’re my girl. Please tell me what I’ve done wrong.”
“How can you want me to have something you can’t make work? And you can do anything.”
Oh goodness. Her words stab me through my worn-out heart. “Don’t cry. Your mother has chosen me. She loves me, and us, but that’s not the same as choosing me to be her husband again.”
“Why not you?”
“I’ve disappointed her. I forget that she is as strong willed as me.” Katherine pressed for a new deal, but I was concerned about the ball, my master plan. “And our timing has been difficult.”
There are many other words about cross-purposes and concepts about assumptions and forgiveness that are too big for my little girl to understand. I offer the simplest thing I know. “I failed, Lidochka. I failed, and maybe the best we can be is friends.” Friends with baths and sheets. And bare feet.
Wide-eyed and wild with tears, Lydia tries to stop sobbing. But I hold her, hold her tightly to me until she quiets.
I gaze at her countenance. “Do you understand?”
She nods and sniffles. “Must be too tough to love.” Her sigh is long. “Too tough so you quit.”
Defeated and prideful, prejudiced of the past, fearful of the future—this love I have for Katherine is too much for merely me. “I’m sorry, Lydia. Maybe if we love her together, we can make everything work.”
“Papen’ka, what am I to hope for beyond birthdays, when either you or I aren’t here? We both have the sickness. Does that mean we’ll always be alone?”
My broken soul rips to pieces, like it’s been sliced with a jagged cutlass. “I don’t—”
“Papen’ka, I’m sorry. I’m talking like a quitter. You fought to live for me. That should be enough.”
“Nyet. Not enough. We must change our circumstances.”
Hope rises in her irises. “Papen’ka, are you saying there’s still time?”
“You and I work here. We work together. The two of us … we are unstoppable. Katherine won’t refuse such a powerful pair.”
She hugs my neck. “We can save joy together. We can give it to Mamen’ka.”
Surely, mindful of my waning strength, she gives me my cane, steadying it so I can lift from the floor.
My child holds her breath as I struggle, but I rise.
Then I hear footfalls from the hall. My appointment may start early. “Lydia, we work together now. Hide under my desk. No matter what you hear, don’t come out until I say so.”
She gives me a wink and scoots. Lydia makes it before the door to the study fully opens. Without knocking, Mr. Palmers enters. The rude man is here to collect a debt.