by Kellyn Roth
He didn’t respond for so long that she almost felt he hadn’t heard her. At last, he spoke. “I love her. I admire her. I believe that I understand her, but her feelings at present are a mystery. She is kind—but love? I doubt she could ever care for me enough to marry me.”
Well. Alice had expected to wheedle a great deal for such an honest answer. Adults almost never told her such things. “I’m not sure, either. Did you …” Could she ask an adult such a question? “Did you ask God?”
“I did. Or I’ve tried to.” Once again, he seemed inclined to stop, a light hand on the reins causing Roanoke to hesitate, but Alice wanted to continue on. The movement helped her think.
She urged Athena to a trot, and he kept pace until they reached a stream, which trickled across their path, already half-dry in the summer.
As they carefully crossed the partially dry, rocky bed, he turned slightly on his saddle. “I’ve prayed often, and I believe God is guiding me toward her. Which is what makes this so confusing. Wouldn’t God make the path easier?” Mr. Knight faced forward, and she heard a soft chuckle. “I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you all this. I don’t want to worry you.”
“You’re not.” Alice bit her bottom lip. How far could she go? “Can I tell you something Nettie has told me?”
“Of course. You need never be afraid to tell me anything.” He turned Roanoke and made him back up so Alice could safely arrive on the grassy bank.
Alice relaxed on the saddle for a moment, organizing her thoughts. “Nettie always told me that sometimes God requires us to take leaps of faith. To trust in Him even if it means stepping where we can’t see.”
“That’s wise.”
“I thought so, too.” Alice turned Athena back on the trail. “So why not take a leap? Ask her. That’s what you’re supposed to do, isn’t it?” If she didn’t need her arms, she would have crossed them over her chest. As it was, she was mildly afraid Athena would spook in this unfamiliar place.
“You’re right, of course.” His voice trembled a bit, but at least he said the words. “Does this mean I have your blessing?”
Alice laughed. “More than that! You really must ask her. You can’t leave us again. At least try. I’d rather her disappoint me once than you disappoint me again.”
She sensed he wasn’t behind her after a moment of silence and turned to find him stopped in the path.
“What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I was only thinking about all that’s at stake.” He rode forward, squinting slightly. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Alice.”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” Still, her heart sank at the idea of her mother turning her father down. God, let her heart have changed. Let us be a family. Please.
Why must she keep coming here? It was ridiculous, really. Claire shouldn’t allow some ridiculous feelings of nostalgia send her back to this fountain in one of the gardens, especially not at night.
The moonlight reflected off the rippling water, and she lowered herself onto a marble bench. Her eyes half-closed. Was it wrong to pray here? Where she’d promised her heart to a man who now couldn’t care whether she lived or died save to spend time with their children?
More specifically, Alice. A bitter little part of Claire’s heart felt strongly that Ivy was unprioritized by her father. But then, Philip never did seem to know how to talk to her. Ivy was a reserved child and a difficult one to talk to. She couldn’t blame him, truly.
But it’s all for the children, isn’t it, God? There’s nothing about me that compels him to become involved. So what do I do? Should I simply bear it for the girls’ sake? What is my place? Would you allow us to remarry? I believe I could forgive him, but can You?
“Miss Chattoway?”
Claire managed to control the impulse to jump up. “Mr. Knight?”
“Yes.” He shuffled forward. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t startle you. The gardens are usually empty this time of night.”
Midnight? Yes, she supposed that was an unusual time to come sit in a garden. “I can leave, if you’d like.”
“No, please don’t. Could I sit with you?”
Claire moved slightly to the side, and he lowered himself onto the bench beside her.
“It’s a lovely night. A bit chilly—are you quite warm enough?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She liked the cool air, honestly. It was wonderful at clearing her head. “I really can leave, if you came out here for quiet.”
“I did, but I’d much rather talk to you.” He kept his voice soft, so she felt compelled to lean in. “How have you been? Are you enjoying your stay here?”
“I’m well, and yes, I am. Pearlbelle is a lovely place.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad you’re here.” He cleared his throat. “I believe Alice and Ivy are happy here, too.”
“They are.” Alice especially, but even Ivy seemed to enjoy the peaceful house and gardens. Not that it would be too different from Starboard for her, but at least she wasn’t suffering any panic attacks.
“Excellent.” He clasped his hands together on his knees and leaned forward. “Do you think they would like to stay here more permanently? And … and you, too, of course?”
She forgot to breathe for a moment and had to force her lungs to inhale and exhale regularly. What did he mean? Was this a proposal? Inspired by what? He couldn’t be serious, could he?
“I suppose I should clarify.” She felt him shift beside her. “I’m asking you to marry me. Be Pearlbelle Park’s mistress. I think it’s … it’s the most sensible option.”
The most sensible option. A great many marriages were founded on far less. Claire wasn’t afraid of that. She opened her mouth to reply, but something kept her from responding. The silence stretched on, and Mr. Knight rose and paced to the fountain and back.
“Dash it all, Claire. That wasn’t at all what I meant to say. I-I think I love you. No, I do. It’s not the same mindless passion as before, no, but it’s based on who you are as a person—the care you give to our children, the diligence you put into your every effort.” He stood facing her, hands outstretched. “I don’t know if that’s enough. I don’t know if anything I can ever offer will ever be enough again. But I want to try, and I pray that you can forgive me.”
Claire’s chin jerked. “Philip, it’s not about your being enough. You … you’re a good man.”
“Am I?” He offered the barest glimmer of a smile. “I abandoned you. Unwillingly, but there was a great deal I could’ve done to keep us together. You’ve gone through so much—and though my life hasn’t been easy, it at least appeared honorable. I didn’t suffer the consequences.”
“And I haven’t lived a blameless life. Nor has anyone.” After all, there were still things she kept from him. But how could she share them? Claire placed a hand on his arm, lightly, not wanting to seem too forward but needing to comfort him. “God has blessed me despite it all. I don’t pretend to be aware of all His plans, but He has certainly done work in my life. I can see that He’s done the same in yours.” He has dealt generously with us.
“Then would you consider …?” Philip paused. “I suppose it’s not fair to ask that much of you. But I believe I could make you happy. You would never want for anything, and I would be devoted. We could still live all the dreams of a dozen years ago.” He turned to her. “God has given me the ability to make them a reality. The children, the home, everything.”
Claire placed a hand on his shoulder and let herself be drawn closer. “We already have half of the children we wanted, too,” she whispered. Alice—you must tell him about Alice.
“Yes.” His gaze flicked down for a moment before returning to her eyes. “And the home—we didn’t think we’d live at Pearlbelle, didn’t know it would be my inheritance, but this is better than what we imagined.”
“It is.” Her fingers found the nape of his neck. “We’d have to work so hard to build a marriage from this rubble. There is so much I must tell you first, and I’m afrai
d. I won’t ask you if you still love Hazel as I could never compete with a dead woman. But, even so, there is a great deal for us to contend with—the past, the present, the future.”
“I concede that.” Philip cupped her face, and his thumb stroked her cheek. “But I believe God can get us through it. Alice calls it a leap of faith—that’s why I’m proposing.”
“You feel this is a God-honoring decision?” She wasn’t sure. There was reason to hesitate, certainly, after all this time and all they’d gone through, all they’d done, and she must share the whole story before committing. Still, he was free now.
“I do. And you?” His eyes searched her face. “What do you feel, Claire?”
Attraction, a bit of doubt, some regrets, and a handful of worries. But affection remained, and she believed that God had changed Philip as much as He’d changed her. “I feel a great many things, but I believe you are right.”
He was silent for a long moment. “Then you will marry me?”
Claire’s fingers tightened in his hair, and she kissed him. But before she could let herself go, she remembered and drew back. “Philip, there is something I must tell you—and you will be angry. You have every right to be.” She bit her bottom lip. “You may change your mind about us.”
Of course he protested. “Never! Darling, nothing you can say would change this.”
She stroked his cheek then stepped back. She would give up if she kept touching him. “Philip, eleven years ago, I conceived and carried your daughters, twins. They were born on the first of January, 1862—but the first, who I had called Flora, only lived half an hour.”
He stepped back, and she saw the wariness growing in his eyes. She wanted to about-face, to make believe she’d been joking, to tell him everything would be all right.
But that wasn’t fair to either of them. Especially to him.
“I … I lost her, and Ivy was weak. The babe was buried in an unmarked grave in Yorkshire, an illegitimate waif no one wanted. I told them the stillbirth was not mine, but my maid’s.”
Philip didn’t speak. His eyes were vacant.
“Philip, Nettie was … attacked. She has chosen not to share all the details with me, but Alice is the product. Nettie couldn’t offer her what I thought I could. An identity. A life. So I gave her the name you chose—Alice Christina—and took her as my own. I had to—Nettie had to.”
He turned away and walked toward the fountain, his shoulders slumped.
“Philip, Alice is like you—do you see it? Perhaps it was meant to be.” Claire followed him, trembling, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Please say something. Tell me to leave. I don’t mind—I know what I’ve done, and I don’t regret it.”
Well, that wasn’t quite true. Perhaps she could explain a little better than that. “I never thought … I thought you would come for me, and I would tell you as soon as I saw you. If we had been in contact, it wouldn’t have gone so far.” She dropped her arm and stepped back. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.”
“You did what you thought was right.” Philip’s voice was a dry rasp. “I can’t punish you for that. Perhaps this is what I deserve.”
“Oh, Philip, no.” She circled around him and reached up to cup his cheek once more. “Darling, no. This isn’t a punishment. I’m the one who lied—we both know what God says about that.”
“But you wanted to protect Alice.” Philip’s face twisted. “I can understand that. I wanted to protect her, too.”
Claire closed her eyes. “I know. I love her as my own. Which is why I can’t give her up, even if it means giving you up.”
Philip’s chest rose and fell heavily, and he placed a hand on her arm. “No. You won’t have to do that. I love Alice—and not being her father won’t change that.”
Claire blinked up at him, her eyes taking a moment to readjust to the moonlight. “Philip, I’m not asking you—”
“You don’t have to ask; I’m offering. I’ll raise Alice as my own, gladly.” His face melted into a smile, and he squeezed her arm slightly. “Be my wife.”
His wife? After all these years, even given Alice, even given all the changes to both of their lives, he still wanted to marry her? It seemed nothing short of miraculous that his heart hadn’t changed toward her.
Claire blinked back tears as she whispered the word: “Yes!”
Epilogue
August 1873
Nettie slid her fingers into her husband’s hand. “It’s a lovely day for a wedding, isn’t it?”
Tom smiled and shifted Malcolm against his shoulder. The boy wriggled, wanting down to try crawling once again. “Yes, it is.”
Her eyes took in the lawn at Pearlbelle, dotted with the few guests there to celebrate the nuptials of her dearest friend. “I’ve had my happily ever after, so I’m glad she’s having hers. And it’s made my Gracie so happy.” Even now, the child was dashing from friend to friend, parent to parent, all smiles, ready to throw herself into this new life with gusto. My little Grace. Look at the beautiful family God has given you.
“Are you sure …?” Tom put his free arm around her waist and brought her close to whisper into her ear. “Are you sure this is best? For Alice?”
“The truth would hurt her too much.” Nettie took Malcolm from her husband and placed him against her shoulder, enjoying the warm solidness of him. Already, he was growing so fast—she couldn’t believe how quickly his eight months on earth had flown by.
“Perhaps for a bit. But, in the end, it could be healing. Especially for you.” Tom drew her onto a bench next to him, and she snuggled against his shoulder. “I would love her as my own, Nettie. I wouldn’t be ashamed—not for a moment.”
“I know that.” Tom was a good man, and in every way, he matched her. Strong where she was weak, tender when she needed a friendly shoulder to cry on, and accepting of her—all of her. Even the parts she couldn’t tell anyone else but Claire.
Now Mr. Knight knew—Claire had told him shortly after the engagement—but even with his protection, Nettie had chosen to remain silent on a few points. In truth, Tom was the only one who knew the full story.
The desire to reveal everything came strong upon Nettie at times, but her loyalty to Claire, her love of Alice, and her desire for peace had always silenced her in time.
Now Alice, her very own Gracie, had the life she deserved, the life she must have. Nettie thanked God every day for His providence—for allowing even the demons of her past to be lost in a charade that had seemed impossible at the time.
How could she rip Alice out of the safe haven she’d created for her? No. She’d made the right decision. Even if her heart ached every time she looked at her child—even if Alice lived out her life never knowing.
“You’ll not tell her, then? Never?” His protective arm about her gave Nettie the courage to speak of it, but her insides felt weak.
“‘Never’ is a long time.” She sighed. “But I think not. Not unless it becomes obvious that God is directing me that way.” Please, God. Let the past remain where it is. Let my Gracie have the moon and the stars. And let me bear it from a distance, quietly and bravely.
Her son fussed, tugging at her bodice. “I should feed him.”
Tom glanced toward the garden party, his eyes flicking from man to man, seeking out a tall one with dark hair, a beard, and a charming face that hid the evil within. “I’ll come with you. I don’t know where he is.”
“Thank you.” Tom understood, as always. He had from the beginning, when she’d confessed it to him, afraid to tell Claire more yet needing a confidant. And she’d loved him the moment he’d pulled her closer instead of pushing her away.
As they walked back toward the big house, Alice’s laughter echoed in the distance. Nettie smiled into her son’s hair, pressed little kisses to his forehead and cheeks.
No child deserved the life of little Grace Atwater, the natural child of a maid and a man who’d taken his pleasure and left without a second thought to a life ruined and another
begun. And, in Nettie’s eyes at least, Alice’s place was at Pearlbelle Park, loved and prized, the petted eldest of a country gentleman and his wife.
Too much was at risk, and Gracie came first. Always.
Yes, Nettie would keep her secrets.
A Note to the Reader
Writing a novel is not easy—and I can honestly say this is the hardest novel I’ve ever written.
It’s gone through over twenty-five drafts, many of which had completely different endings, characters with widely variating stories, and even first to third person shifts (which, though not familiar to some, will immediately strike fear into the heart of any writer!).
I didn’t think the editing was ever going to be well and truly over sometimes. When I published a draft in January 2016, I made the mistake of calling it “finished” (published books usually are), but was I ever wrong!
God had very different plans for this story. The version you just read it grittier, more real, and probably harder to read than that January 2016 draft, or even a July 2017 draft that floated out there for a while.
This draft, originally released in January 2020, is my boldest, my brightest, my best-edited, and my personal favorite (as well as the only one that’s actually canon to the series).
I hope you enjoyed it! Perhaps you will consider posting a quick review on Amazon or Goodreads to let me know your thoughts.
Or … if you want to absolutely make my day … shoot me an email! You can find me at [email protected]–and I’m actually pretty quick to respond, so give it a try!
As I’m writing this, book 2, Ivy Introspective, will be published the following summer. If you liked this one, well, you’re going to love reading from Ivy’s point of view. She’s a fan favorite.
And you’ll also get to hear from Nora Chattoway, Claire’s mother! So that’s something to be excited for. (She’s a sweetie, too.)
