Chapter 13 #2
Again, Caspian looked between the two women as if he did not understand what he was seeing. Mrs. Roberston had worked for Caspian for years; few knew him better than her, but even they did not have the level of companionship shown between the two women.
What is going on?
“It is Master Timothy,” Mrs. Roberston said. “It seems that he is missing.”
Arabella laughed. “Missing? Or in hiding?”
“Likely the latter,” Mrs. Roberston laughed along and shook her head. “You know how that child is.”
“I am starting to learn.”
“He must be somewhere in the manor,” Mrs. Robertson pressed. “But we have looked everywhere. In truth, we are starting to worry.”
“Excuse me.” Caspian cleared his throat. “I do hate to interrupt, but let us not waste time. Do you have any idea where Timothy might be hiding?”
He spoke with a sharpness that he did not intend. And while it might have been nice to have pretended that it was his concern for Timothy that caused it, he knew that jealousy was the true reason.
He was jealous of how at ease Arabella was with the staff. He was jealous of how quickly she had bonded with them. Most of all, he was jealous that he was not included in such familial ties. His fault, of course, but that was not the point.
Arabella turned and looked at him plainly. If his tone upset her, she did not show it. In fact, she hardly seemed affected by him at all. It had Caspian leaning back a little, forced onto the back foot. For three days, he was gone, and somehow, his authority had vanished entirely.
“He knows that you are looking for him?” she asked simply.
“Does that matter?”
“It does,” she said. “If he is indeed hiding from you, then it means that he does not wish to be found. Perhaps it is best to leave him be? Likely, he will come out when he is bored.”
It was good advice, and Caspian ought to have taken it.
However, he had felt out of sorts since his return to the manor.
Things had changed, the people had changed, and his authority, the command he had in this house, had wilted because of it.
It was petty and vindictive, but Caspian was taken by a sudden urge to assert himself and to remind his wife, especially, who was in charge.
“Ah, so your advice is to encourage his bad behavior?” he said to her.
Her lip twitched. “No, that is not what I said.”
“It was implied,” he spoke over her. “For too long, Timothy has been given free rein to do as he pleased, always without consequence. Did I not marry you so that you might help bring him under control?”
“That is not…” Arabella clenched her jaw, tempering her anger. “You asked that I develop a relationship with him, which I have done. If I reveal where he is hidden, it will destroy all the hard work I have made.”
“So, you know where he is hiding?”
Her eyes widened in realization. “No, I… I suspect where he might be. But that does not mean he is there. As I said, it is best to leave him be, and he will come out when he is ready. Please…” She looked pleadingly at him. “Trust me. Forcing him out will only make things worse.”
For the briefest of moments, Caspian considered relenting. The pleading look in his wife’s eyes and the fact that she was asking him permission were almost enough to persuade him. He did not want to cause her angst or upset her, or make things worse between them. Truly, he did not.
But that thought lasted only a moment.
Caspian was stubborn; he was determined to remind his wife who was in charge, and jealousy at seeing how close she had grown with the staff, not to mention Timothy, burned a rage through him that was destructive.
Oh, how proud my father would be of me…
“Tell me where he is,” Caspian said as he stared down Arabella. “Now.”
He saw the anger flare behind her big eyes. He saw the defiance. He saw her about to stand up to him and deny his order. But he held her in his warning stare, daring her to argue, almost wanting her to do so.
“There is a crawl space upstairs…” Arabella bowed her head. “On the third level, underneath a table. He is likely in there.”
“Good,” Caspian said as he stood up. “Now, let us go and collect him.” With that, he strode from the dining room.
“Please!” Arabella chased after him. “Do not tell him that I told you. He will never forgive me! Please!”
Caspian stormed ahead, determined to feel proud of himself for what he had accomplished. He had managed to assert his authority, proving to the staff and Arabella that he was in charge. That was what he had wanted!
And yet, when he reached the third floor, something came over him. The last thing he expected, and certainly the last thing that he wanted.
It was guilt. He stopped on the top floor, turning back to see Arabella following him. She looked utterly bereaved, a shell of the woman who had walked into the dining room just moments ago, and it stabbed through Caspian like a blade aimed for his heart.
He did not want to hurt her, and he definitely did not want to damage her relationship with Timothy.
Most of all, what Caspian wanted the least was to be like his father.
A marriage built on fear and hate, one in which he pushed his wife to the edge of sanity, even to the point of death.
Avoiding marriage altogether might have been better, a sure way to prevent ending up in this situation. But that no longer mattered.
Caspian looked at his wife, really looked at her. She did not glare. She did not scowl. She pleaded silently, hopefully, willing to do what he said, while praying that he might change his mind.
He was not his father… He had to be better.
“I have changed my mind,” Caspian found himself saying as he turned away.
“You have?” Arabella perked up.
“You are correct,” he continued, unable to look at his wife. “To come between you and Timothy would be reductive and… and the opposite of why we married. I will leave you to find him, and to instruct him to come and see me at once.”
“Thank you,” she said with a sigh of relief. “I will. As I will tell him that he cannot hide when you ask for him. I will make sure he knows it.” She smiled, a subtle one, but bright enough that it lit up the room.
“Good,” he said, firming himself, trying his best not to smile with relief and pride. “I will be in my study. Good night.” With that, he stormed away.
Caspian had undoubtedly lost whatever point he was trying to make, and once that might have upset him. But as he walked away, he could still feel Arabella’s smile, the radiance of it, and how grateful she was for the small thing he had done.
She had changed so much in such a short time, proving that such changes were possible. And while Caspian told himself that he desired no such changes for himself, while he claimed to like things the way they were, he knew it was nowhere near that simple.
He was married now. He had come dangerously close to being just like his father. To disprove that, he knew he would need to change. He would have to become a better man, someone that even people like Arabella could come to respect.
I need to do better…