by Kellyn Roth
“Why did your wife die?” Alice asked.
“Alice!” Mummy snapped.
But Mr. Parker was smiling. “I am quickly learning, Claire, that Miss Alice is a force to be reckoned with. Don’t shush her. You’ll break her spirit. My wife died when our baby arrived, Miss Alice.”
“What’s your baby’s name?”
“Posy.”
“Posy is a funny name.”
“Her full name is Patricia Mariah Rose Elton Parker, but that’s a bit of a bother to say, I think.”
Alice nodded slowly. “Yes, it is a bother to say.”
“Alice,” Mummy said again in that same exhausted tone of voice.
“It’s quite all right. I agree!” Mr. Parker knelt before Alice. “I’d have named her Posy Parker and had done with it. But everyone in the family wanted to add something. Patricia for my mother, Mariah for Lydia’s, Rose for a grandmother somewhere back. Even Elton for both of us, I suppose.” He cocked his head. “Lydia and I were cousins, you see; my mother and her father were siblings.”
“Oh.” That made sense, she supposed. “I just have Alice Christina. I don’t know why.”
“Christina is for your mother’s sister. And Alice for—”
Mummy caught Mr. Parker’s eyes and shook her head, so he stopped.
Alice sighed. No one was ever going to tell her anything, were they?
“I’ll take my leave now.” Mr. Parker stood. “Claire, please send me a message when you arrive at a decision. I don’t believe that, at this juncture, happiness is something to speak of, but you could make a difference in my life—and I would make one in yours.”
“I’ll consider what you’ve said.”
Mr. Parker stepped toward the door. “I can’t be him, but in the situation you’re in, a man is what you need—someone who can sweep it all away.”
“As I said, I will consider it. Thank you for coming this evening.”
Mr. Parker nodded to her. “Thank you for letting me in.”
“Nettie?” Claire lowered herself onto the edge of her bed and regarded her confidante. She trusted Nettie’s opinion, but then, her maid had always been unfavorably inclined toward Mr. Parker.
Nettie dropped down in front of the fire and looked at Claire with a slight smile. “Yes?”
“Well, Nettie …” Why is it so hard tonight? “Well, Nettie.” Yet there wasn’t a good way to phrase her thoughts.
“Yes, Claire, I’m listening.”
That soft confirmation was all Claire needed. She blurted out, “Should I accept Mr. Parker’s proposal?”
“You’re considering it?” Nettie’s eyes widened. From the moment Claire had told her of his suggestion, she’d proclaimed it ridiculous. She’d declared Mr. Parker the least dependable man in the world, a shameless flirt, and never a friend to women.
Where Nettie obtained this information, Claire didn’t know. But she still hesitated to override her maid. Nettie wasn’t one to rely on intuition or uneasy feelings. She used cold, hard facts in her decisions—or at least she always had before.
“Perhaps.” At least she was willing to entertain the thought. After all, a respectable marriage, a regular home, and the ability to be a true mother to Alice and Ivy—and more little ones down the road—would be a great blessing.
Something she wanted more than anything else this life had to offer.
Nettie pressed her lips in a thin line. “I have stated my opinion, and now I shan’t interfere with your decision.”
“But why have you formed such a decided opinion against a man you have never even spoken to?” Claire pressed. She must know. She couldn’t make an informed decision otherwise.
“I’m not sure.” Nettie’s tone was as careful as a housemaid dusting a priceless vase. “It’s merely an impression, but a strong one, based on his actions and attitude whenever I’ve seen him or heard of him. Think, Claire. Since you were a child, he was determined to marry you. Yet, even while you were in the same house with him—those weeks at Pearlbelle Park—I saw him flirting with others. His cousin Lydia, even while she was only a child. And the maids … the maids told tales in the serving hall.”
“What did they say?”
“That he begged kisses and embraces from them. Sometimes more. He never threatened their jobs, but they feared it.” Nettie shrugged. “I cannot trust a man who would do that.”
Claire winced. No wonder Nettie couldn’t trust him; it struck too close to home. But at any rate, it was to be expected. “Ah well. He was only a boy.”
“That’s no excuse, Claire.”
She sighed. “I know. But surely it wasn’t bad. Is that all? Boyhood follies? I’m sure even Charlie has flirted with the maids, and he was honorable in everything else.”
Nettie shook her head. “Your brother never looked or said or did anything to make me uncomfortable, Claire. If he has spoken to me, it has been kindly. Parker is different. As I said, he doesn’t respect women. Think how he went from you to Lydia! We both know he married her because she was with child. Stop denying it. You just have to look at the dates to see the truth.”
Claire suspected that, though she hadn’t wanted to voice it. But she knew Steven had loved Lydia, too; his eyes said so when he spoke of her death and their child, even if he was afraid to admit it. “I fear that is the case, but, again, he was young, and he did the honorable thing.”
Nettie snorted. “And was disinherited for his troubles.”
“I know his uncle wanted him to marry rich and bring a new bloodline into the family. Instead, he married his sickly cousin and sired a daughter.” No one wanted daughters. Claire gripped the edge of her nightgown in her fist.
“I believe John Elton might have been tired of so many girls.” Nettie’s tone almost cracked with its dryness. “He never did have a brother—only Mr. Parker’s and Mr. Knight’s respective mothers. Then he only had Lois and Lydia, so for a male heir, there was Knight or Parker—neither of them perfect options.”
Claire couldn’t help but chuckle. “Mr. Parker or a young man who had grown up in America? Oh, I can’t believe he was thrilled with his potential heirs.”
“Yes, but at least things are settled now. I hope the new Mrs. Knight’s child is a boy.”
Claire glanced up to see Nettie watching her closely. “Yes,” she said. “I believe she may be expecting, as you have surmised. They have traveled to Pearlbelle Park now, probably so she can have the child there. Though, why Mr. Elton would condone his heir marrying an American is beyond me.”
Nettie cocked her head. “He did condone it?”
“Yes. Before his death this winter, he named Mr. Knight heir to Pearlbelle Park—and he was married then.”
Nettie nodded. “I see. Well, the late Mr. Knight—Mr. Philip Knight’s father—was an American, too. Perhaps Mr. Elton didn’t mind them as much as you seem to.”
“Hmm.” Claire reached behind her to pull back the covers. “I just find them shiftless. But let’s keep to our original subject: Mr. Parker. I think we’re stepping around the biggest issue—if I don’t marry him, what future can I offer the girls? And, further, how can they expect to go on without a father all their lives?”
Nettie ran a hand over her eyes and shook her head. “They could get on well without a father—and God will provide regardless. Besides, Claire, you must admit not everything was Mr. Chattoway’s fault.”
“It wasn’t entirely my father, no,” Claire said after a few moments of silence. “I’m headstrong—but Ivy isn’t, and Alice is at least trainable. Thankfully, they don’t take after me as far as personality goes.” She sounded more sarcastic than she’d intended, but it was true.
“Ivy inherited her father’s mild temperament,” Nettie murmured.
A lump rose in Claire’s throat that she couldn’t swallow. “Perhaps. I would like that. Nettie, sometimes I miss him terribly—do you know that? I get so lonely. I wish he were here, yet I don’t.” The tears welled, and she dashed a few away with her
hand. Still, they came. “How immature it is to think about him at all.”
“Oh, I hardly think so. There, don’t start crying! You’re only sad because it’s so late. We had both better go to sleep now.” Nettie began to rise from her place, but Claire motioned her back down.
“If it isn’t too much trouble, I’d rather talk a bit longer. I believe it helps me think. At least, it always has before.”
But she didn’t know what to say, how to express the feelings brewing inside. For a few moments, there were no more words between them, then Nettie broke the silence.
“Claire, would you like to talk about him for a time? I would understand, as I always have. You used to go on so.”
She swallowed. “I used to love him so.” He’d been the center of her universe for a brief period of time—before that, the dearest friend she had every summer.
But now, that friendship was in the past. Oh, life was so horridly unfair.
Nettie sighed. “Claire, you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Her head snapped up. She couldn’t admit that and keep her pride intact. “No, most certainly not. I have more sense than to go on loving someone who doesn’t care whether I live or die. Besides, it was all a juvenile infatuation. I’ll go to sleep now. Good night, Nettie. Sweet dreams.” Claire hastily cast aside her dressing gown and snuggled under the covers.
Best to stop talking before she fell apart completely.
Nettie crossed the room and took her friend’s hand. “Don’t think too much tonight, Claire. Go to sleep right away. I know you are hurt, but I want to remind you: if you are lost, the only One Who can find you, redeem you, is our Lord, Jesus Christ.”
Claire’s throat tightened with promises she couldn’t accept. If she were a different sort—and if God Himself were a different sort—it would be possible.
But she wasn’t, and He wasn’t.
“I don’t deserve what you say is offered, Nettie,” Claire said. “Please don’t bring it up again.”
But Nettie wouldn’t be put off tonight. “I’ve told you time and time again, but you won’t hear it. Jesus can heal you; He can wash you clean! If you could only believe.”
Claire gritted her teeth and turned her face away. “Good night, Nettie.”
“Good night, Claire.”
Chapter Five
The next evening, Claire entered Alice and Ivy’s bedroom as Nettie closed a book, and the girls begged for just one more story.
Nettie glanced at the small watch pinned to her bodice. “I suppose there’s time.”
“Of course there is.” Claire cleared her throat. “I’ll tell the last story. Would that suit?”
“Yes!” Ivy clapped her hands together. “Please, Mummy, tell us a story.”
Alice nodded enthusiastically.
“Very well. Nettie, would you leave us?” As her maid left the room, Claire took a seat on a chair near the fire and pulled Ivy down onto her lap. “There.”
Alice curled up with her chin resting on her mother’s knee and passed the storybook to her.
“No, not these stories. Tonight I’m going to tell you a true story. Would you like that?”
Alice’s brow wrinkled, but she nodded. “All right.”
Staring into the fire, Claire whispered, “I thought I’d tell you something about your father.”
Ivy showed no reaction, but Alice jumped. Those black eyes, flashing and full of curiosity, met Claire’s sharply.
“Mummy.” Her elder daughter’s voice was hushed. “Oh, Mummy.”
Claire swallowed. “I know you’d like to know more, Alice. I think it’s important that you understand … some of what happened.”
Tears trembled on Alice’s lashes. “Why isn’t he here?”
“He can’t be.” That much was true, at least now. “I’m terribly sorry, darlings, but he can’t be.”
Ivy smiled and wrapped an arm around Claire’s neck. “I don’t want him anyway. I love you and Alice most—and Nettie—and Kitty.”
That was her little girl. She didn’t really like people beyond her own circle.
Alice scowled. “Why is he a secret, though? I don’t understand!”
“If people knew about you and Ivy—”
“I know that, even though I think it’s silly. But what about our father?”
Claire sighed. How should she explain it to her girls? No easy way presented itself, but they needed to know some of the answers or they would be helpless.
“He isn’t able to be a part of our life anymore. I’m so sorry, but that’s how it is. However, I’m willing to answer questions about … about him. The man himself. And I believe it might help to tell you a bit about how we … how we met.”
“Can we ask questions?” Alice pressed.
Claire wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. That’s my Alice. Keep that inquisitive mind. It’ll take you far. “You may.”
Alice paused, and Claire could almost see the gears of the child’s brain turning like a clock preparing to strike the hour. “Did he love us?” she asked at last.
Claire sucked in a breath. “He never knew you. I … I regret that he didn’t get to know you, both of you, because he loved children. He wanted to be a father—and he would have been proud to be yours.”
Alice nodded. “Good. Being our father would be a good job, I think. What did he look and act like?”
Claire half-closed her eyes. Vague is good. Things that apply to a thousand men. Don’t think of him as the exception but the rule.
“He was tall, a few inches over six feet. His eyes were kind and his smile bright. As a gentleman, he always lent a helping hand where needed, and he was a friend to everyone. He was soft-hearted, sometimes even emotional, but he possessed a gentle strength.”
If only he had come back …
“Where is he now?”
Claire pressed her lips together. “If I tell you, you’ll try to go to him, no matter how impossible that is.” She cocked her head. “You’d only be hurt.”
Alice blanched. “He’d hurt me?”
“No! No, darling. Not purposefully. He’s not a frightening man—quite the opposite. But you would be hurt by the circumstances. Trust me.”
More hesitation, but Alice slowly nodded. Claire breathed a sigh of relief.
“You said you’d tell us a story, though.” Ivy tugged gently on Claire’s sleeve. “Mummy, this is not a story. This is like schooling.”
Claire chuckled softly and kissed Ivy’s cheek. “I know, dearest. And I am going to tell you a fairy tale—it’s about a princess who was foolish.”
Alice sighed. “Mummy, is this going to be one of those lesson things again? I’d rather just be told.”
Ivy cut her eyes to Alice. “I like Mummy’s stories.” Her arm tightened around Claire’s neck. “Even the lesson ones.”
“Shush, girls. No quarreling. Yes, Alice, it has a bit of a lesson … but not much of one. It’s no fable. I don’t think Alice was trying to insult me, Ivy dear.” Claire smiled and squeezed Alice’s shoulder. “Let’s see. Where shall I begin?”
“Once upon …” Ivy said.
“Right. Once upon a time, there was a princess who lived in a wild moor in the north. It was beautiful there, but she hadn’t many friends. She had a younger sister, who was very unlike her, and they never got along. And she had a big brother, who was a rough boy she didn’t like playing with anymore—now that she was a lady, I mean. And she had a maid, who was her dearest friend, but … it wasn’t the same.”
“Nettie is a maid,” Ivy observed.
“Yes, Nettie is the same as having the very dearest friend!” Alice said, folding her arms.
I’d forgotten how much they talk during bedtime stories. It’s been too long. “You’re both right. She did have a very good friend in her maid, but she was still bored. There wasn’t much to do, and her parents—especially her father—were difficult to get along with. So it was time for an adventure, as it often is in fairy tales.�
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“I don’t think I’d like an adventure,” Ivy said. “Please don’t make me have one, Mummy. I’d rather stay with you.”
Claire laughed. “Perhaps you’ll want one someday, love.”
Ivy shook her head emphatically. “Never. Alice will have adventures, then she shall tell me about them. I’ll like that! It’ll be like a story, only real.”
“You can come with me,” Alice offered. “I wouldn’t mind sometimes.”
“No … I don’t think so.” Ivy glanced across the room. “Unless Kitty could come.”
“Oh, she can’t come. She’s too noisy.”
Claire was curious to know more about Alice’s proposed adventures—of which she had heard nothing before now—but the minutes ticked away. Soon it would be late, and she wanted to finish this story first.
“Well, much like Alice, this princess was an adventure-embracer.” Claire tangled her fingers nervously in Ivy’s hair. How could she say this? Even in fairy-tale format, it was difficult. “So off she went to the south, to an estate. And while she was there, quite by accident, she met someone. A prince, of course.”
Alice cocked her head. “Was it love at first sight?”
“Oh, I don’t believe in love at first sight!” Ivy exclaimed. “I would only fall in love with someone who I knew. I don’t like strangers. Mummy, why don’t you change the story so they can be best of friends before the adventures?”
“I can satisfy you both, darlings.” She bit her lip, trying to remember the excitement of first love before broken hearts and empty longing. “They had been friends for years, Ivy, as children, but now that they were almost adults, things changed between them over the following weeks.”
“Oh, all right.” Alice shrugged. “Love at first sight just speeds things up a bit, and you can get to the good parts.”
Claire tried to conceal a grin. “And what, pray tell, are the good parts?”
“The happily ever after, of course.”
