Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
Geneva decided she could use a walk herself but made certain to head in a different direction than Honor and Rose.
The girls hadn’t seen each other since last November, and she wanted to give them an opportunity to talk and share their troubles without judgment or constraint.
She was halfway to the estate manager’s office when she encountered Rory.
He wore his heavy overcoat and a trilby, and a scowl worthy of Aunt Clarissa.
His expression was replaced by one of surprise, then cautious optimism when he spotted Geneva on the path.
“I was just coming to see you. Can we speak privately?” he asked.
“Of course. Is something wrong?”
“No,” he said, but it was obvious that something was on his mind. “Let’s go for a walk.”
They walked away from the house and towards the old well.
No one knew exactly how old it was or when it had last been in use, but the water was brackish and smelled of rotting vegetation.
Some said it went back to Roman times and had once supplied fresh water to the villa that had occupied the spot where Bellamy Hall now stood.
Douglas thought the well dated to the Carvetii tribe that had inhabited that part of Cumbria before the Roman occupation and had served a coastal settlement that had become extinct.
Or maybe it hadn’t been a well at all, but some sort of storage space or underground shelter that had filled with water over time and trapped falling leaves and careless animals until the contents turned into a smelly, peaty sludge.
Douglas had ordered a snug-fitting wooden cover for the opening after Geneva’s puppy had fallen in and nearly drowned.
Buckey had been rescued but had never gone near the well again, and the children had been forbidden to play nearby.
The birch saplings that had taken root near the well were now fully grown trees, and the stone stump was green with moss and barely distinguishable from the bracken and fallen leaves that blanketed the ground.
Geneva leaned against a tree, and Rory stood with one foot on the ledge of the well.
With the two of them silent, the sounds of the wind and sea and the cawing of birds filled the air.
It would have been peaceful if not for the sinister hush that always seemed to hang over the well, as if ancient spirits hovered nearby, silent but listening.
“Ye must be glad to see yer aunt and cousin,” Rory said at last.
“I’m happy to see Rose, but Aunt Clarissa is already trying to take charge.”
“Charge of what?”
Geneva didn’t want to talk about Aunt Clarissa or her plans for her and Jesse.
She was glad to see Rory and enjoyed the feeling of being away from prying eyes and unfair judgments, even for a short while.
Dinner would be a drawn-out, tense affair, especially if her father wasn’t up to joining them.
She briefly wondered where Jesse had gone.
She hadn’t seen him yet today, but perhaps he had decided to stay out of the way while they caught up with Clarissa and Rose, figuring they’d have much to discuss.
Contrary to what Clarissa had said, Geneva thought Jesse was a fine judge of character and respectful to the feelings of others without intentionally drawing attention to his own awareness of the situation.
He simply melted away and reappeared when he thought it was time, the exact opposite of the brashness Aunt Clarissa had accused him of.
“My aunt likes to order people about,” Geneva said vaguely. “Why were you coming to find me?”
Rory’s jaw tightened, as if he were about to deliver bad news. “I applied for several jobs as soon as ye told me about the situation.”
Geneva gaped at him. “You were going to leave, after we…?” She couldn’t finish the sentence and felt her cheeks grow warm despite the chill wind.
But she could hardly blame him. She had intentionally shut him out and tried to avoid him as much as possible despite his declaration of love and the promise of a future.
Rory was just hedging his bets, as any sane person would.
“Genny, it takes time to secure a new position. I couldn’t afford to wait around until I was informed of my fate. If I were to be dismissed, I had to have something lined up.”
“You might not be dismissed. Jesse will need an estate manager.”
Rory sighed heavily. “Yer cousin is not going to keep me on.”
“How do you know?” Geneva asked.
“He came to see me yesterday. He asked to look at the books, and he had lots of questions about the running of the estate, the value of the land, and the various sellable assets. I don’t think he was overly impressed with what he heard.”
“Does he intend to sell the estate?” Geneva asked, her voice cracking with the strain.
“He didn’t say, but it’s only natural that he should consider the options. He suggested I should explore mine.”
“Did he give you a timeframe?”
“No, but he made it clear that I should look to my future. And I need to work, Genny. I don’t have family money to fall back on,” Rory said, and Geneva thought he was embarrassed to admit it, even though his lack of funds didn’t come as a surprise to her.
“Where did you apply?”
“I applied for a half dozen positions, everywhere from Suffolk to County Clare.”
“County Clare?” Geneva cried.
Rory nodded. “There’s also an opportunity in Pennsylvania.”
“As in America?”
He nodded, and his gaze slid towards the tips of his boots and eventually back to her. Geneva got the distinct feeling that this was something Rory had been considering long before she’d told him of the entailment and that he was only now telling her about his plans.
“I have a cousin in Pittsburgh,” he said. “Fion and a mate are opening a brewery. They need a manager, but Fion said there will be an opportunity for me to buy into the business if the brewery does well. I told him I was interested.”
“When was this?” Geneva asked. The wave of emotion had passed, leaving her feeling strangely indifferent towards Rory’s scheme.
“October.” Rory looked apologetic. “I received a letter from Fion today. He and Connor have found suitable premises and signed the lease. They have already installed the equipment and will brew their first batch at the start of the year. Fion invited me to come over. He has a room where I can stay until I find a place of my own.”
“And what about me? Only a few days ago, you said you would wait for me,” Geneva reproached him.
“And I meant it, Genny, but I have to make plans for our future. I can’t afford to sit on my hands, not if I want to get in at the start and become a partner in the business. I want ye to come with me.”
“I can’t leave Honor,” Geneva said.
“Except that maybe ye should,” Rory snapped.
“What on earth do you mean?”
“Only that relationships between siblings can be complicated.” Rory’s expression was pained. “Honor looks up to ye. She worships ye, but, because she admires ye so, she wants everything ye have.”
“Are you suggesting that Honor wants you?” Geneva asked. A sudden chill stole over her, and it had nothing to do with the wind. Something in Rory’s eyes unsettled her, and she knew he was about to shatter the fragile balance she’d been fighting to maintain.
“Honor came to see me last night.”
“What did she want?”
“She brought me a Christmas present.”
“What was it?” Geneva asked dispassionately.
“A bottle of Scotch. I expect she pilfered it from your father’s stock. She suggested we open it and have a drink. Get to know one another better.”
“And what did you say to that?”
“I told her to take the bottle and go home.”
“And did she?”
Geneva wasn’t just cold. She was trembling and could barely feel her hands and feet as the magnitude of Honor’s disloyalty began to penetrate the shield of denial she had erected about herself.
Rory didn’t reply, and Geneva could see in his eyes that something had happened between them.
“I need you to tell me.” She sounded imperious even to her own ears, but she was done with allowing other people to toy with her emotions or attempt to manipulate her life choices.
“Honor kissed me. She asked if she could stay.”
“And what did you do?”
“I asked her to leave.”
“I don’t believe you,” Geneva said coldly.
“Why would I lie?”
“Maybe because you want to drive a wedge between us so that I will go with you and not feel guilty about leaving Honor behind.”
“Is that what ye really think?”
Geneva felt the pricking of tears. “I don’t know what to think, or who to trust. I feel like my whole existence is coming apart at the seams. A few more weeks and I might lose my home.”
Rory scoffed. “Deep down ye know exactly whom ye can trust. Just as ye know what the people ye care so much about are capable of. There’s more to life than a moldering pile of stone, Geneva.
There’s a whole world out there, full of people, and opportunities, and new experiences.
And maybe it’s time ye expanded yer horizons. ”
“When will you go?” Geneva asked coolly.
“The first of the year.”
“I will return your ring.”
“I will not accept it. My feelings for ye haven’t changed. I must leave if I’m to seize this opportunity. Ye can join me when ye’re ready.”
“And what am I to do about Honor, especially if what you say is true?” Geneva demanded.
“She’s nearly of age. Ye can’t mother her forever.”
Geneva glanced at the house, just visible through the trees, its weathered walls mellow in the gentle light of the setting sun, and imagined walking away from her childhood home forever.
She felt an ache in her heart, but she supposed that was natural, given that this was the only home she’d ever known.
Running away to America could be exciting, liberating even, but did she want to go there with Rory, and could she see herself living as the wife of a brewer in some mean flat in Pittsburgh, which in her mind was exactly like Barrow-in-Furness?
She supposed she would welcome the opportunity if she truly loved him, but, even as uncertain as she was of what was to come, Geneva knew in her heart that this didn’t feel right, and everything inside her rebelled at the thought of leaving.
And as she gazed into Rory’s serious face, she thought that he had doubts as well.
“I must book my ticket in the next few days,” he said.
Geneva nodded. Rory seemed to think she was nodding in agreement, and reached for her, but released her just as suddenly when a shadowy figure stepped through the trees.
“There you are, Genny. I was looking for you,” Jesse said. “Mr. Sullivan.”
“Mr. Bellamy,” Rory ground out.
Geneva wondered just how much Jesse had heard and if he had interrupted them on purpose. He glanced about, and then his gaze fell on the well.
“What’s that?” He cocked his head to the side as he studied the ancient structure.
“It’s a well,” Rory replied curtly.
“Looks old.”
“It is. It’s been covered for the purposes of safety.”
“Did you need something, Jesse?” Geneva asked in an effort to dispel the tension.
The dislike between the two men was palpable, their animosity crackling like live electricity. Jesse looked from a stone-faced Rory to Geneva, who wanted nothing more than to break this deadlock and leave this place.
“I’m clearly interrupting,” Jesse said, but his gaze searched her face, his eyes asking if she was all right. “I’ll see you back at the house. Unless you were on your way back?”
Jesse was offering her a way to extricate herself, and she accepted his help, mostly because he had offered her a reprieve.
“Thank you. I’ll walk back with you. Good evening, Mr. Sullivan,” she said to Rory, who, after looking uncertain for a moment, tipped his trilby and stalked off into the trees.
“Are you all right?” Jesse asked.
Geneva nodded and turned up her face, eager to catch the last rays of the setting sun.
The bare branches of the birch trees formed a stark latticework against the crimson sky, making her feel as if she were looking at the heavens through a barred window.
It was a clear evening, the colors of the winter sunset breathtakingly dramatic, but, as Geneva accepted Jesse’s arm and they fell into step, she couldn’t quite shake the foreboding that settled on her shoulders like a heavy mantle.