Authors: Johanna Jenkins
I looked down. “That winter was very hard, and very cold. We hardly made it to town, and my father often insisted that I stay at the house to help my mother with all of the chores needing to be done. I went many months without seeing this man, and in my mind, it seemed awfully romantic. I often dreamed about what our reunion would be like.”
“What happened next?” she asked, and squeezed my hands. “Please tell me.”
I squeezed her hands in return. I felt ridiculous for feeling so sad and angry at retelling this story. But I took another deep breath and carried on.
“At the first sign of spring, my father allowed me to go with him to the market. Elated, I wore my best dress and hat, hoping with every hope to see him.”
“Did you?”
“I did.” And I looked up, across the room, to the mirror above her vanity. I saw my own eyes, wide and shining, and realized how different a woman I was now from who I had been then. I felt a shiver run down my spine, the memories still clear in my mind’s eyes. The cold spring air still felt real. “And he was with someone else.”
Her jaw dropped wide open, and she looked aghast. “Who?”
I smiled at her reaction in spite of myself. “I still am not sure. He held her hand in the same way he would hold mine, and when I saw him look at her, I felt my heart break into so many pieces I was sure that I would never be able to put them all back together again.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, when he saw me, he insisted that it wasn’t what it seemed, but I knew he was lying to me. Perfectly and utterly crushed, I returned home. My father called off the wedding with his parents, who I remember had no idea about his other love, and I never went back to town with him again.”
I felt my eyes begin to well up with tears. “That summer, both of my parents became ill, and passed away within days of each other. I had not gotten sick as I had been staying with a friend and her family in Derbyshire, but the letter came from our pastor.”
Miss Judith squeezed my hands again, and then I felt her arms around my shoulders. I hesitated for a moment, and then decided to not offend her by pulling away. I wrapped my arms back around her and held her tightly. I was glad she had been there, and I was glad that I had found the strength to talk about these events. They had been such a large part of me, and yet, no one knew them. It felt freeing, in a small way, to have shared them.
“Thank you for telling me that story,” Miss Judith said, pulling away from me. Her eyes were shining too. “It was very brave to tell me.”
I smiled at her. “Thank you, miss, for listening to it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come now. Please, just call me Judith. I feel you are far too much like an older sister to me for you to address me so formally.” Then she winked at me. “It can be our little secret, sister.”
There was an inexpressible joy that swelled in my heart, and would have driven me to tears, if I had not had better control of myself.
“Alright…Judith.”
She beamed at me and hugged me once more. Then she got to her feet and faced me again.
“You still have not answered my question for earlier, however, sister.” And she pointed her finger at me. “You are in love right now though, with someone else!”
I had hoped she had forgotten that question, and now I just stared up at her and blinked.
“You are! I knew it! I have suspected it for months now!” And then she clasped my hands and jumped up and down gleefully. “Oh, I’m so happy for you!”
She leaned back down, looking at me very intently once again. “Who is the lucky man?”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly –” I said. I felt myself floundering for words, and all of my propriety had vanished.
“Please, please you must tell me! I have told you all about Mr. Gibson! Now you must tell me who this secret man is!”
I considered her words for a moment. Would it be unwise to tell her, as she might then go and inform her father? And then what? No, that would not do.
“I shall tell you all about him, but not his name, not yet,” I added, as I saw her look of protest. “This is my secret to keep,” and I winked at her.
She eventually consented, and listened to me talk about my secret love as I brushed out her long hair. I talked of his character, his wit, and how handsome he was.
She turned around and looked up at me. “Why haven’t you married him yet?”
“It’s not quite that simple,” I replied.
“That’s ridiculous! You want to marry him, right?”
The words were very familiar but very different from the first time I had heard them. “Yes, I suppose I do.”
“Then you must tell him!”
“Oh, I can’t do that, it’s not right.”
“Oh, pish posh, how else is he to know?”
In truth, we never had discussed it before, him and I. We had never discussed what the future might hold.
Perhaps we should
, I thought.
“Are you ready, Miss?” I asked as we examined her hair in the mirror together. She frowned at me.
“Judith!” she corrected me.
I smiled. “My apologies.”
She returned the smile. “Yes, I’m ready!”
We made our way from the room, and I watched as Judith skipped down the hall, humming as she went. I smiled.
As I closed the door behind me, I heard my name. I looked up to see Benjamin standing there, a bright smile on his face.
“Benjamin,” I breathed, a wave of emotion coming over me as I saw him. My conversation with Judith made me realize just how important he truly was to me.
He held a finger to his mouth to quiet me. “Not so loud,” he said, smiling.
I smiled as well, somewhat embarrassed.
Laughter carried down the hall as Miss Marina threw open her door, the ribbon on her hat flying behind her as she ran down to the stairs after her sister.
“Goodbye, Miss Bannerman! Goodbye, Mr. Clarke!”
Mr. Peter followed soon after, and in his quiet way, acknowledged us as well. And soon after, we were left alone with the silence of the vast hall.
He smiled at me, and I felt my heart tighten in my chest once more.
“Are you having a pleasant day?” he asked.
I took a step toward him. “I am indeed. And yourself?”
“I am,” his voice dropped, and he also took a step towards me.
The closeness made my face feel warm, and I couldn’t help but smile. He reached up and touched my cheek, ever so gently, with his cheeks.
“Your eyes are red. Have you been…crying?”
I bowed my head. “I –”
“What happened?”
I smiled up at him. “It’s nothing, truly. I just…”
How else is he to know?
“Mr. Clarke,” I whispered. My heart continued to pound, and I wasn’t even sure what I might say, but I had to tell him what was on my mind. “Do you ever wish for things to change?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
I swallowed hard. I couldn’t possibly just ask him; that would be incredibly disrespectful. But I had to know. I couldn’t bear to have what happened to me ten years ago to happen again. If he loved me, I wanted it to be fully and completely. If he had no interest then…
Then I would have to part ways and move on.
“With us. With our future.”
I couldn’t believe I had said it, and out loud, to him, at that.
He blinked at me a few times, unable to form words it seemed. He swallowed, and looked away, taking a step back from me.
This was not the reaction I had anticipated, and my body seemed to turn to ice. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t blink. And my frantic heartbeat seemed to cease all together.
“How could you say you wish for something to change, Abigail?”
His use of my name hurt me even further, and I felt my eyes well up once more with tears.
“Everything we have now is perfect! I am the happiest man in the world, and I would never want to change a thing between us!”
“You wouldn’t want to change anything?” I asked, my hands beginning to shake.
His face paled, and he placed his hands on my shoulder. He searched my face.
“No, of course not. I would be happy the way things are for the rest of my life.”
I pushed away from him, turning my face away.
“I don’t understand, why does this upset you?” he asked, attempting to see my face.
I took another step back and held up my hand to stop him. “No! I thought that you were different. I thought that all of this…we…”
I stopped, breathing heavily. I wiped the tears from my eyes and turned back around to face him. I would have to one way or another, and it might as well be now so as to get it over with as soon as I could.
“Mr. Clarke, if that is truly what you believe, then I must inform you that I do not share those feelings.” The tears came fresh, as my heart told me that I was making an incredible mistake, while my mind urged me to walk away. “Goodbye, Mr. Clarke.”
And I walked down the hall into the bright beams of sunlight streaming through the windows, the hot tears cascading down onto my face, my heart once more a shattered mess.
*****
Mr. Clarke
“Mr. Clarke?”
I shook my head, my cheeks warm and my head swimming, and looked over at the large walnut desk. Mr. Honeyfield sat behind it, a book open on the polished surface, an oil lamp flickering lazily between us.
“Yes, sir?”
“I asked you if you had heard about Ms. Henrietta’s sister?”
“Oh, yes.” I stared ahead at the bookshelf against the far well. The spines were all well used, some of the golden and black letters faded almost beyond recognition. I had spent the last hour reading them all attempting to memorize them, and find the pattern that Mr. Honeyfield used to organize them; anything to keep myself from thinking about…
Abigail.
“And? What have you heard?” he asked.
“I heard that she was recovering well, sir, and that Ms. Henrietta would be home before the week was out.”
“That’s quite a relief.”
For a time, the only sound was the occasional turn of a page as Mr. Honeyfield read his book. I patiently stayed by the door, unable to move, and unable to control my own thoughts.
I continued to read the spines of the books over and over again, and every time her face passed through my mind, I began again. I didn’t want to think about what had happened in the hallway. I didn’t want to believe that something had gone terribly wrong, and that somehow I had ruined perhaps the best thing to happen to me in my whole life.
“Mr. Clarke, is something troubling you?”
I stood up straighter and shook my head. “No, sir.”
Mr. Honeyfield sighed, closed his book, and removed his spectacles placing them on the desk in front of himself. “Mr. Clarke, do not think so little of me that you believe me to be naïve to your struggling.”
I turned to look at him. “Sir?”
He smiled up at me. “Something has evidently happen that has distressed you greatly.”
I looked down at the embroidered carpet beneath my feet.
“Does this have anything to do with Miss Bannerman?”
I did a poor job hiding my surprise as I gaped at Mr. Honeyfield. “Whatever do you mean, sir?”
“Come now, Mr. Clarke. You must realize that I know about the two of you.”
I felt my face grow very hot, and I felt like a mouse caught in a trap. How in the world had he found out? I was certain that we were being very careful to hide our relationship from others. But, Mrs. Gardener had been aware of it…
“I would be an unwise man, indeed, to not be aware of the matters going on in my own home,” he added, but not unkindly.
I bowed deeply towards him. I felt so foolish. I had promised myself time and time again that I wouldn’t do anything to upset Abigail’s position here at Greenview manor. I had to protect her. I knew that I had to ensure that she would not be punished in any way for my actions or my feelings. It was my responsibility.
Even if there wasn’t much of a relationship left to hide.
“Mr. Honeyfield, I humbly apologize if –”
“There’s no need, Mr. Clarke,” he interrupted.
I gasped.
What did he just say?
“I wish that you would have come to me sooner, to be honest. There was no need to sneak around behind my back.”
Again, I felt foolish.
He stood to his feet, and walked around the desk to stand in front of me. “It is in my best interest to take care of my employees. I would much prefer them to be happy and healthy than struggling and keeping things from me.” He smiled, and held his hands behind his back. “And I need my staff to be at their best so as to perform their duties to the best of their abilities. Does that make sense?”
I nodded, relief almost palpable as I let his words sink into my mind. All of the effort and time wasted. There had been nothing to fear all along. Mr. Honeyfield was incredibly kind and understanding.