Chapter 9 #2
“I think I will leave the two of you to catch up,” he said. “Mr. Marrow, when Her Grace is ready, please show her to her room.”
“It will be done,” Mr. Marrow said.
“Violet… Lucy…” He smiled at them. “I will be seeing you both later.”
With that, he turned, at which point he expected to go to his office and pour himself a drink. It had been a long day, he had much to think about, and he did not want it to appear as if he was hanging about to try and impose his presence on the two of them.
However, it was as he made his way across the foyer that Violet called out to him.
“Rhys…”
He turned and frowned when he saw her coming. And that frown deepened because for once she did not scowl, nor did she glare. In fact, she looked somewhat embarrassed, even regretful.
“Violet, is something the matter?”
“I wanted to…” She hesitated, biting her lip. Behind her, Lucy stood with Mr. Marrow, but not right beside him. “Lucy will come around, I am sure. She just needs time.”
“I know,” he said with an appreciative smile. “But thank you for saying. I never expected this to be easy, but I am willing to try. Whatever you might think of me, Violet, know that Lucy is why I do this.”
“I asked you this already, and I doubt it will make a difference, but can I ask why?” She looked back at Lucy, indicating for the girl to wait. “If I know the reason, I might be able to help.”
“I doubt that,” he chuckled bitterly. “If anything, such a story might make it worse.”
“So, there is a story?” she pressed. Not with aggression, but with tenderness and concern. “You do not have to tell me, but I would appreciate it if you did. If you trust me, that is.”
It was the last thing that he wanted to talk about. And not just then, but always. Such a story always brought with it pain and sorrow, the type that was better left forgotten. And what had already been a long and difficult day would be made no easier by opening up about that particular heartache.
And yet… perhaps I should tell her? If I want her to trust me, ought I not to give her a reason?
Was that not the entire point? Rhys was so desperate to gain Violet’s trust, but he had not given her a reason that she should yet. But with one small truth, his reasoning laid bare, it might just be exactly what they needed. For Lucy… for the two of them… for their marriage.
“You wish for the truth of it?” As he spoke, he watched Lucy; a reminder of why he did this. “Lucy reminds me of my sister, is why.”
“Oh.” Violet blinked. “I did not know that you have a sister.”
“I did, once,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “Sadly, she passed away a few years ago.”
“Oh, Rhys…” Pain passed across her face, the first time she ever looked at him with anything close to emotional understanding.
“It was my fault too,” he continued, still staring at Lucy as if he needed that to give him strength.
“She fell in love with a man who I believed was beneath her. When I demanded that she leave him, they ran away together to spite me. It took months for me to track them down, by which point my sister… her name was Eleanor... had…” He smiled at that, an image of her face passing through his mind. “She died in childbirth.”
Violet gasped, and she reached out, resting her hand on his arm.
“Worse still, the husband vanished. Worse again…” He grimaced. “The child, who I was told had lived, was nowhere to be found. I searched for him, looking all over England, but he has disappeared like a ghost in the night.”
“So, the orphanage…”
“I thought I might find him at one,” Rhys admitted sadly.
“I did not, but as I searched, I came to realize that there were so many children who were desperate for care… for a home. I could not help them all, but I could help some. And then I saw Lucy…” He smiled again, still watching the little girl.
“I know that she is not my sister, and I know that I cannot bring her back. But that changes nothing. I want to give her a better life, Violet. You must believe that. I want to do something… anything that is right.”
Violet squeezed his arm, and it felt good; a small showing of comfort it might have been, but it meant more than Rhys could say.
“Thank you for sharing,” she said. “And thank you for trusting me.” She smiled sadly, tears in her eyes, and he returned that smile.
For a moment, nothing was said, but Rhys felt something pass between them.
For so long now, she had been at his throat, distrusting, sure that he was in this for himself.
But that single look that she held him in dismissed those concerns, and finally he was certain that she was at least willing to trust him.
It is a small step forward, but a needed one.
Violet returned to Lucy after that, taking the small girl’s hand and leading her away. Rhys watched them go, not feeling nearly as sad as he should have been, nor feeling alone.
This was a good thing… it was the right thing.
For the first time in so many years, Rhys felt that he had a purpose again.
If he stayed the course, and if he did right by Lucy, then maybe, just maybe, he could finally move on from his guilt and his grief and that haunting feeling that he was responsible for Eleanor’s death.
Maybe then, somehow, I might find it in myself to be happy.