Chapter 13 #2
Euphemia’s smile faltered slightly, a sudden weight dropping into the pit of her stomach.
She looked at the two eager faces waiting for her, and for a terrifying moment, her mind went completely blank.
The truth was, she did not have a fond childhood.
Her early years were not filled with light, laughter, or the gentle, sunlit memories most children enjoyed, they were clouded by rules, and a deep, aching absence.
Desperate to keep the mood light and exciting for the twins, she scrambled to invent something out of thin air.
“Very well,” Euphemia said, as the girls sat by her side.
“When I was about seven years old, my sisters and I decided we would climb the highest oak tree we could fine. We spent hours ascending the branches until we could see the entire world, and then we —”
“But how could you climb a massive tree at seven?” Cordelia interrupted, her brows knitting together in immediate skepticism. “You would have ruined your finest gowns, and the governess would have locked you in your rooms before you even reached the first branch. “
“Well...” she said. “I climbed all the way to the top.”
Georgianna sat forward. “How high?”
“Very high. Higher than the roof of the house.” She was warming to it now. “I could see for miles. The whole county spread out below me like a —”
“How did you get down?” Georgianna asked.
Euphemia paused. “I — climbed... up.”
“You climbed up but you do not know how you climbed down?”
“I know how I climbed down. I climbed down the same way I climbed up.”
“How?” Cordelia probed. “Oak trees are high.... and you were seven. When I was seven I had tiny hands.”
“Well... not me. I had large hands at seven,” Euphemia stuttered.
Georgianna looked down at Euphemia’s hands and then looked back to her face, an unconvinced look crossing her features that said, very clearly, that she was not sure she believed that.
“Your hands are rather small now, Your Grace,” she said. “How could they have been bigger when you were seven?”
Euphemia looked at them both. Georgianna had one eyebrow slightly raised. Cordelia was waiting with her head tilted. She sat back and looked down at her fingers. “All right. I didn’t climb any tree,” she said.
“We know,” Cordelia said simply.
Euphemia paused, catching her breath as the twins neatly pulled apart the holes in her poorly constructed story. She let out a soft, defeated laugh and sat back against the cushions of her chair, realizing she could not fool these two.
“You are entirely correct,” Euphemia said gently. “That was a terrible story, and it was not true. Allow me to try again. I shall tell you a real story instead... one that I keep very dear to myself and rarely ever tell anyone else, because people might read too much meaning into it.”
The twins instantly leaned forward, completely captivated by the promise of a real secret.
“I was raised by a Dowager Viscountess. Lady Byron. I was the very first child that she brought to live at her estate,” Euphemia began, her voice dropping.
“I was entirely alone in that massive house for a time, and I was an exceptionally quiet, reserved child. I kept to myself, preferring the silence. But then, the next person to arrive was Seraphina. She was a little older than I was, but goodness, she talked and talked, and she liked to worry about absolutely everything. Because I was so quiet, her constant chatter and persistent whining drove me absolutely mad at first. I simply did not understand why someone had to occupy so much space with their voice.”
Cordelia giggled softly, but kept her eyes glued to Euphemia.
“And then, a short while later, Leonora, my younger sister arrived,” she continued.
“Leonora was even more quiet than I was. She was so terribly small, and she did not understand a single thing about why her life had changed or why she suddenly had to live with Lady Byron. It was an immense hassle to get her to speak even a single word. I tried multiple times to talk to her, to offer her comfort, but she simply would not respond to me. She completely ignored my existence, which, I confess, made me quite resentful of her at first.”
“Did you fight?” Cordelia asked, her eyes wide.
“No, we didn’t fight,” Euphemia murmured.
“But over time, we began to take our lessons together. We had to eat together, sew together, and spend every waking hour in each other’s company.
We were being raised in the exact same way, and very slowly, we learned to depend on one another.
You see, we all came from the very same background.
We had all survived the exact same tragedy, and as the years passed, we realized that nobody in the entire world understood the weight in our hearts more than we understood it ourselves.
To this very day, I still firmly believe that no one on this earth understands my sisters better than I do, and absolutely no one understands me better than they do. ”
The drawing room fell into a silence. Even Cordelia had stopped bouncing, her small face turning thoughtful.
“But why did you all have to live together in the first place?” Cordelia probed eagerly, her curiosity thoroughly piqued. “What was the tragedy that happened to your families? Where were your —?”
“Ah, no,” Euphemia interrupted gently, raising a single finger to halt the barrage of questions.
“Our agreement was for a single story, and I have given you a true one. Perhaps, when the two of you and I are even closer than we are right now, I shall answer all of your other questions. But for today, that is all you get.”
Cordelia pouted, her arms crossing over her chest as she let out a little huff of disappointment.
Even Georgianna looked slightly dejected, her fingers tightening on her doll as if trying to squeeze the remaining secrets out of Euphemia.
For a moment, it seemed they might protest and demand to know more right then and there.
But Cordelia finally shrugged her shoulders.
“Very well,” Cordelia declared, leaning forward until her nose was practically touching Euphemia’s. “We shall move on to the third task. This one is very simple, Your Grace. You must tell us exactly why you married our papa.”
The question caused Euphemia’s eyes to widen. Her breath caught completely in her throat, her jaw dropping just a fraction. In an instant, the memory of her actual arrangement with Nathaniel flashed vividly through her mind.
Obviously, she could not possibly reveal the sobering reality of that calculated business transaction to his young daughters.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, quickly gathering the pieces of her scattered thoughts before offering them a soft smile that came straight from her heart.
“Growing up, I always dreamed of a household filled with life and warmth,” she explained.
“I always wished for a home overflowing with children who loved to play, who would run through the gardens with me, and who would want to sit together for hours sharing their favorite storybooks and talking about all the wonderful things they love. I simply wanted to be part of that kind of beautiful relationship. Marrying your father gave me the grand privilege of having both of you in my life, and I am so deeply grateful for that.”
Cordelia’s little face softened completely, and before Euphemia could even register the shift in the room, the girl lunged forward and threw her arms tightly around Euphemia’s waist.
Euphemia gasped softly, her arms hovering in the air for a second, utterly surprised by the sudden embrace. A wave of emotion rushed through her chest, and she slowly lowered her arms, wrapping them securely around the young girl’s shoulders.
“So,” Euphemia murmured as she gently rubbed Cordelia’s back. “Does this mean I have passed your grand tasks?”
Cordelia broke the hug, sitting back with a bright grin, but she did not answer right away. Instead, she looked over at her sister, waiting. Georgianna sat perfectly still for a beat, her small hands loosening their tight grip on her doll. Then, slowly, she gave a firm, decisive nod.
Cordelia looked back to Euphemia, her eyes dancing. “Yes. You have passed.”
“We can go and play in the garden now,” Georgianna added.
For whatever reason Euphemia’s heart leaped with such joy, it felt as though she had won a grand prize.
She moved closer to the two girls, a brilliant smile lighting up her entire face.
She leaned down, her fingers gently stroking the soft curls of Cordelia’s hair before reaching out to tenderly tuck a stray strand behind Georgianna’s ear.
“I should like nothing more in this world,” she whispered.
As they gathered their things and began the walk downstairs toward the garden, the twins trotted slightly ahead, murmuring to each other about which path to take. Euphemia followed a few steps behind, watching them, completely overwhelmed by how happy she was.
She thought to herself that she had never expected any of this when she first agreed to the marriage, but winning the trust of these two girls was easily the best thing that had happened to her since her arrival at the estate.
Just when everything was starting to work out, and the confusing fog of the past few days was beginning to lift, it felt like a true sanctuary.
With Georgianna’s hard-won approval finally secured, Euphemia felt a deep sense of relief settle into her bones.
She figured she could simply dwell on this joy for now, using it as a beautiful means to fill her days.
She would play with them, read with them, and pour her heart into being the companion they needed.
It would be more than enough to occupy her mind, keeping her safe from her own spinning thoughts up until the time came when she and Nathaniel could finally face one another and figure out where they were.
Or what they were doing.