Nicholas ~
I know I am small and foolish and silly and many other unfortunate things. I know my hair curls much too tight, and I know I am much too short, and I know I am only fourteen years of age. But I am quite in love with you, and wish to know if you will ever feel the same. I will grow older soon. In fact, I am growing older even as I write these words, and even as you read them (but you will never actually read them because I am disposing of this note at once). Even if you never love me, please stay beautiful. Stay kind and honest and good. You said that I deserved the very best, but the only best I can think of is you.
With kind regards,
With all my heart,
Lucy
But when I finished writing I didn’t dispose of the note. I tucked it inside my glove where it would be safe. One doesn’t simply go disposing of their heart. They keep it safe and nearby in case they ever find the strength to let it be seen.
THIRTEEN
I was surprised to find a short note at the base of my door when I awoke the next morning. It had been the most restless sleep of my life, and I arose early, arranging my hair in a simple style and wearing another of the dresses that had been lent to me by Kitty. It was far too long, so I gathered the fabric in my hands as I stepped into the hallway. Scooping up the mysterious parchment, I retreated back into my room and closed the door.
I unfolded it and read the words.
I’ve arrived as promised. Meet me at the trees on the west side of Rosewood at noon today.
It wasn’t signed, but I knew who it was from. My heart flooded with relief. Nicholas was here. And he wished to see me. I closed my eyes and pushed my hopes down with a firm hand. I had felt this before. I had allowed myself to feel as if I were important to him. It always made rejection more painful when you weren’t expecting it. Or even when you were expecting it, but had even the smallest drop of hope. Hope made expectations soar to dangerous heights.
I tucked the note away and checked my reflection in the mirror. But Nicholas had called me lovely. I puzzled over that encounter over and over in my mind. He wasn’t prepared to part from me, he had said. My stomach erupted in fluttering wings of excitement. What could he have meant with those words?
After breakfast, the morning passed slowly. Mrs. Tattershall tried to convince me to join her and Kitty in the music room to showcase our talents, but I had very little musical talent and I was too distracted to listen. I kept my eyes fixed on the clock, pacing the halls and my room when I couldn’t sit still. At last noon came and I secured my bonnet to my head and rushed out the door to the back property.
The west trees were the ones bordering the Bancroft’s home—the new ones that met with the fence to form an obvious barrier. As I approached them, I could see Nicholas stretching his head around one of the small trees, motioning with his hand for me to hurry. When I stopped in front of him, he smiled as if he couldn’t help it.
“What?”
“If I know you at all, I am wagering that you will trip on the hem of that dress before day’s end.”
I looked down and lifted the dress, clicking the toes of my shoes together. “Might I remind you that I am a fully grown lady now? My days of ungainliness are in the past.”
His eyes brimmed with laughter, but I could also see a weight in them, an uncertainty and weariness.
“Are you well?” I asked in a quiet voice. “How is your family? And do not tell me all is well because I can see by your face that all is not well. I am tired of being lied to.”
He gave a sad smile. “My mother’s health is declining still. She is very ill of the mind. I should not have left.”
“Why did you leave then?”
He was staring straight ahead, his brow firm. He looked down at me and my heart skittered at the raw emotion in his eyes. “I thought they needed money more than they needed me.”
It felt like the day his horse had died, when I had come across him and hadn’t known what to say. “There are other ways to earn wages, Nicholas …”
“I know.” His eyes snapped into mine. “I never intended to do what I did. Since my father died we have struggled to pay expenses. I maintained our grounds on my own, but Mrs. Rossington always ensured that the Rosewood staff assisted me. She was very kind to us.”
“My aunt Edith,” I whispered. He nodded, pausing on the sadness that was likely showing in my expression.
He stepped forward, taking my arm and securing it around his. Stepping into the trees, we walked along the white fence until we reached a stone bench that rested against the side of the small house. He gestured for me to sit and took his place beside me. I tried to ignore the way his leg pressed against mine as he turned to face me. “My mother’s health had been growing worse, and due to a set of terrible circumstances, it deteriorated faster. I took her to a specialist in London, but the bills were too great. I promised the man money that we didn’t have, and now I am struggling to repay that debt as well as feed my family and maintain the household.”
I remembered the strangeness of Mrs. Bancroft’s behavior. I had heard whispers of the late King George and the madness that had claimed his life. The illness she had was a condition of the mind as well, and I couldn’t help but picture the way her face had been that night I had seen her in her armchair six years ago. Her eyes had been glazed and her face sullen. She had lunged at me and Rachel, telling us we were not welcome there. The memory had been buried deep and for a good reason.
The pieces of Nicholas’s story were falling into place; my head was beginning to make sense of them. “But what led you to the highwaymen? Why did you convince so many that you were married?”
The moment I finished speaking, the shattering of glass caught my attention from above where we sat. Before I could comprehend what was happening, a large pot was falling from the window near the top of the house. It was too fast. My eyes followed it for a brief moment before I jumped away from the direction it appeared to be falling. From the corner of my eye I saw Nicholas stand in alarm, moving as if to shield me. I ducked out of the way just as the pot shattered on the bench where I had been sitting.
I gasped, jerking my gaze to the window. What looked like a hand retreated behind the curtains. Had it been Mrs. Bancroft? My heart raced as I squinted at the window. The hand had appeared too small and frail to belong to her.
“Lucy, are you all right?” Nicholas had both his hands wrapped over my shoulders, pulling my gaze back to his.
“What was that?” My voice swam in the air, making me feel as if my head were encased in glass rather than a straw hat.
“He doesn’t know how to behave.”
My ears sharpened. “He?” Nicholas had a sister, Julia. And his mother. There was no he to speak of. “Is there someone else living in your home?”
“No. I’m sorry, I meant to say she. My mother.” His eyes shifted away from mine as he spoke.
“But the hand that I saw … it looked very much like a child’s, Nicholas.” I had recovered enough to fix him with a look of suspicion.
“My mother has grown quite frail.” His voice was blunt. I didn’t quite believe his explanation, but I didn’t want to argue with him.
“May I see her?” I asked. He shook his head, holding me steady as we walked away from the house. We stopped at the place we had met, at the edge of the trees between the two properties.
“You cannot see her, I’m sorry. At least not yet. She doesn’t take well to visitors.”
“Has she been receiving any medical assistance? Surely there is a doctor that may perform tests and administer antidotes of some sort that will not create the same cost as the specialist in London.”
Nicholas breathed out, long and slow, and rubbed the side of his face. He didn’t need to answer. I knew he couldn’t afford it. If Aunt Edith knew of the situation, surely she would help. But she was gone. I couldn’t imagine Mr. Rossington, flaunting his riches as he was, being willing to sacrifice any money to assist Nicholas. Or that he would in any case, given their secre
t dispute.
I wanted to reach up and comfort Nicholas in some way, but I didn’t know how. My heart blossomed with understanding. At least I knew why he had convened with such wicked men, even if I didn’t know when and how. He had been desperate for money—not for greed—but for the purpose of maintaining his family. He regretted every moment, I could tell, and it hurt me to see it. My throat tightened for his sake, and I reaffirmed my commitment to help him. To show him that he was indeed good and kind.
“Perhaps you should go back to the Rossingtons. They will wonder where you have gone.” Nicholas’s voice was hoarse and soft. “I will walk you back.”
I nodded in understanding. “Will you join us for dinner this evening? The Rossingtons are not aware of your return.”
Nicholas bristled. “I cannot imagine anything worse than spending the evening with Mr. Rossington.”
I threw him a puzzled look that made his expression smooth over. He had spoken too frankly and he knew it.
“Please, Nicholas. Because I, too, cannot imagine any worse way to spend an evening. If you are there we may share the discomfort and it will not be so severe.” I smiled in an effort to lighten the expression on his face. I was still not accustomed to this brooding, serious side of him.
“I assure you, if I am there your discomfort will be quite the contrary.”
I planted both my hands on my hips. I had taken quite enough of the deception and secrets. “Tell me what has passed between your family and the Rossingtons! I must know.”
He took a step backward, but I followed. My own confidence surprised me.
“Lucy …” He shook his head. “It is better that you not know. At least for now.”
My cheeks flamed with anger. “Is it because you think I am a child? That I cannot bear any troubling news or—or that I cannot possibly comprehend the consequences of quarrels and scandals or whatever this may be? I am not a child.” I shook my head. “Not anymore. I wish you would see that. I might have been a foolish girl the last time I was here, but time has passed and I have changed. I am tired of being protected by lies. Lies build barriers and break hearts.”
In this moment, Nicholas looked very much like a child himself, being scolded for a wrong he already realized he had committed. I had pulled the very words from his mouth from all those summers ago. Foolish girl. He remembered them as well as I did. They were scarred on my heart and I could see them on his. He had apologized to me, two nights ago when I had slept under the trees. But I had pretended to be asleep. Perhaps I truly had been. It wasn’t enough.
I stared up at Nicholas, my breathing fast and angry.
“Lucy, I wish I could tell you, but I can’t, not yet.”
I uncrossed my arms and smoothed my dress. “Thank you for coming back. I suppose I will see you again when you are prepared to be entirely honest with me.” I gave him a nod, and as I turned my back to walk away, I saw him scuffing his boot in the dirt, tracing frustrated circles.
I found Kitty in the morning room, and she was eager to take me to the nearby village to have me fitted for a small new selection of clothing. Until I returned to Craster, I would have nothing to wear. As we walked, Kitty spoke of the generosity of her father. He had insisted that I be equipped with proper dresses and other pieces of clothing that fit me correctly, taking the bills upon himself. The walk seemed short in comparison to the walking I had done in the last week. We were approaching the cobblestones of the town roads. Green leaves were just beginning their transformation to warmer tones. I tried to imagine how beautiful they would be in a few short weeks. The golden red, orange, and yellow of autumn.
“Would your father not consider using the funds they are allotting to me for a different purpose instead?” I asked.
Kitty loosened her grip on my arm and turned toward me. Her hair had blown over her face and she pushed it away. “What is this alternative purpose you speak of?” Her left eyebrow arched in question.
I took a breath. “To pay a doctor to look after Mrs. Bancroft. Her health is very poor.”
Kitty gave an exasperated sigh. “I cannot imagine that would be allowed.”
“By the Bancrofts?”
“No, by my father.”
I watched my feet as we walked, disappointment dropping through me. I was tired of asking questions, so I just accepted her words. At least for the moment.
The village here was much larger than the one in Craster and even the one Nicholas had taken me to in our travels. The shops were taller, the roads wider, and the people passed in greater numbers. Through the crowd of passersby, a familiar face made me stop.
“Kitty!” I pulled her back the step she had taken ahead of me. “Do you see that man standing by the tan horse? The one holding the hat? Oh, he just put it on his head. Do you see him?”
I watched her eyes land on Mr. Parsons. “Yes, who is he?”
“I met him on my journey here in a village much like this one.” My mind wandered back to that day, when Mr. Parsons had pulled me away from the oncoming chaise. He had flirted with me, and Nicholas had seen it. Mr. Parsons had indeed told me that he lived in Dover.
“He is very handsome,” Kitty observed. “Are you going to speak to him?”
I studied him standing there by the horse. “No … it was rather embarrassing the circumstances in which we were acquainted. I would rather not speak to him.” I turned my feet to the opposite direction but Kitty stopped me.
“You are speaking to him. I will not allow you to flee.”
I gasped at her and she laughed. “He sees you.”
“He does not!” I jerked my eyes in his direction and met his eyes immediately. Drat. He had certainly seen me.
Forcing a smile to my lips, I took several steps forward to meet him as he approached, dragging Kitty beside me. “Mr. Parsons,” I nodded, “I thought we might see one another again.”
His eyes truly were striking as he glanced over my face. “Miss Abbot, I have not forgotten you. I sincerely hoped to see you again.”
Kitty poked a gloved finger discreetly into my ribs. The faintest giggle came from her lips; any observer might think it was nothing more than a breath, but I knew her too well. “This is my cousin, Miss—er—Mrs. Kitty Turner.”
He gave her a polite greeting and turned his attention back to me. “I am glad you have arrived to Dover in safety.”
“You as well.”
He smiled.
“Mr. Parsons,” Kitty cut in, “we would be honored if you would join us for dinner at Rosewood this evening.”
I twisted my head to give her a look of dismay that only she could see.
“The honor would be mine, Mrs. Turner. I was just now thinking that I had no engagements to speak of for this evening and would likely sit in my solitary chair in loneliness all evening.”
Kitty laughed. “We will welcome you at six.”
“Thank you.” He shifted his gaze to me again and offered one final charming smile. “I will look forward to seeing you again.”
I was baffled by his attention. Rarely had men ever given me attention, especially one so kind and charming. It was strange, but I quite enjoyed it. If only Nicholas were here to observe such behavior. “And I you.”
When Mr. Parsons took his leave, Kitty turned to me with her mouth gaping open. “He is quite smitten by you, I daresay!”
“Do not dare to say it one more time, Kitty.”
“I will. He is smitten by you!”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Keep your voice down!”
“And he is coming for dinner.” She wiggled her eyebrows and threw her head back in delight. “Do you know of his family? Background, station?”
I shook my head. “We only spoke briefly. I know nothing besides his appearance, charm, and that he seems to be somewhat agreeable, although I cannot claim to know his character further than that.”
“And we know he seems to fancy you,” she added.
I bit my lip, waiting for the excitement I expected to
come. I was flattered, but found myself not caring as much as I wanted to care. He was not Nicholas. Would any man ever compare? My steps were heavy as we went about our business in town. I found several simple dresses that would suit me well until I returned home to Craster.
Since arriving in Dover I had missed my family more than I thought. I wished so badly to speak to my mama and papa about the mysteries of Rosewood. I didn’t quite understand why they had kept away for so long, but I was beginning to, which also made me more and more aware of my guilt. How childish and disrespectful I had been, running off alone against their wishes.
The note I had written wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t arrive for nearly a fortnight. Mama would sit and worry until then. I thought of Mrs. Bancroft and Nicholas. His devotion to her was admirable. He would risk his life and reputation to acquire money to help her. I didn’t condone the circumstances, but he was desperate and he loved her. How could a heart not forgive that? He had seemed regretful to the highest degree, and intent to change. I wished there were a way I could help their situation, but I didn’t know how. I wanted to visit Mrs. Bancroft, but I was afraid. Perhaps all she needed was a female companion to fill her life with gentleness. Nicholas was loyal and loving but not the epitome of gentleness.
I puzzled over the idea as I walked home with Kitty. She was speaking endlessly, telling me of her courtship with Mr. Turner, but I could only listen with half an ear. I imagined myself in Mrs. Bancroft’s position, living alone with her young daughter and relying on her son to provide when he was nowhere to be found. Kitty had said that Nicholas had been away for years, but it could not have been possible. He must have sneaked back often to tend to the grounds and take care of his mother and younger sister, Julia.
Julia had always been shy. I had nearly forgotten that she lived there. Why had she not made an appearance? The last time I had seen her she had been only nine years old. How lonely she must feel.
By the time we arrived at Rosewood, I made the quiet decision that I was going to see the Bancrofts whether Nicholas liked it or not. The entire family needed a friend, a supporter, someone to love them. If the Rossingtons would not do it then I must.
Road to Rosewood Page 14
