by Aria Norton
Tears swam to her eyes, holding their position for a second or so before trickling down in a steady stream and into the collar of her modest dress. Freddi was all alone, a position that she never thought to find herself in so early in her life. Twenty-two was hardly a time for a young woman to lose her parents. It was a time when suitors would be found, alliances forged, weddings prepared, children birthed. It certainly was not a time for death!
Mama wished for me to be married, she wished to make my wedding dress and see my first child. Papa wished for me to leave Blackmore Estate and become a governess, to reach for greater heights. I have achieved none of these, and now they have left me.
How would she continue her life now? How would she have the courage to pursue her dreams? She had not done so thus far, for she had not wanted to leave her parents. Becoming a maid had been the only other choice, but her parents had not been happy about it. Freddi had explained to them that they were her life; they were the ones that made her life worth living. She had no one else besides them, so why should she wish to leave them and start anew at another household? And now they had left her. At least Caroline had been with her for the first few days, but she too had had to return to work, and Freddi had been alone once again.
I have two days before I am due to return to work. Perhaps Caroline would not mind if I were to pay her a visit. I cannot sit any longer in this cottage, I may grow mad.
Wiping her tears away, she looked for writing material. She would send a letter to Caroline; hopefully, her best friend would share her room with her. Caroline worked in a nearby estate as a maid, but her Master and Mistress were far kinder than Lord Blackmore. Freddi had the strongest inclination that the Marquis had only given her these two weeks to remove her from his presence. Lord Blackmore did not like her, and had not done since the accident.
Well, he did not like me before, but the accident turned his dislike into hatred.
It was the respect and affection he had for her parents that kept him from lashing out at her or even chasing her away from the only home she had ever known. The story went that her parents saved him from a horse accident during his younger years, and had rewarded them with positions in his household. Freddi had been born at Blackmore Estate; she had taken her first steps here, and had met the boy she had thought herself to marry. Of course, marrying the son of a Marquis was out of the question, but the young girl she had been had held onto dreams and fairy tales that had woven stories of simple servant girls marrying princes.
Nash was no prince, but in her eyes, he had been that and more. He, too, had abandoned her, but how could she lay the blame of his departure on him alone when she had been the one to cause the accident? If only she had listened to him and stayed where she was... Freddi shook the memory away. She did not need to recall any more tragedies; she was living in one as it were.
She eventually found an old piece of parchment and a quill that had seen better days.
“There must be some ink here. Papa always kept some on hand.”
Stationery was an expensive commodity, but her parents had kept some in the house, teaching her the etiquette of addressing letters to loved ones and officials. Freddi's parents had taught her much, more than the school village had done. She was well-learned in mathematics, French, Latin, and Greek, could speak on the topic of philosophy for hours, and knew the great composers of her time.
She could not play a musical instrument, but she could recognise wonderful music and an adept player of any instrument. Freddi knew that she had much to offer as a governess, but she could hardly think of becoming one when all she could remember was that her parents would not be around to support her.
She sat down, writing a quick note to Caroline. Freddi would send it with one of the young men who did errands for a bit of change in their pockets. She did not have much to give, but it would be small sacrifice if the visit would do her heart some good. Freddi folded the note, going to her door to see if she could find any of them close by. As she opened the door she found Malcolm, the footman, just about to knock.
"Malcolm! Did you come to see me?"
“Yes, Miss Frederica. Mrs Blunt wishes to see you.”
“Mrs Blunt? I am afraid that I do not know who that is.”
“The new housekeeper, Miss Frederica.”
Freddi's hand went to her bosom. They had replaced her mother so soon? Of course, they have, did I expect Lord Blackmore to be without a housekeeper until I was ready to accept my mother's death?
“Did she say why she wished to see me? Lord Blackmore has graciously given me some time to mourn for my parents; I still have two more days.”
“I am sorry, Miss Frederica, but she was most insistent. She said that I was not to come back without you or I could consider myself out of employment.”
Two fine lines appeared between her eyebrows. Who was this woman that she would threaten someone in this manner?
“Very well, I shall come with you. Allow me to find someone to send this letter to Caroline.”
“I shall do it for you, Miss Frederica, you need only give it to me.”
"Thank you, Malcolm. Come, let us not waste any more time. I shall see this Mrs Blunt, and you may deliver my letter."
Freddi handed the letter to the young man, knowing that the only reason why he wished to make the delivery was that he was sweet on Caroline. Malcolm had to be no more than twenty, and Caroline was twenty-one. It was only a year difference, but her best friend was set on marrying someone older than her. However, Malcolm appeared to be the sturdy type because he had not given up. Perhaps he will win her over, only time will tell.
They arrived at the main house, a massive building of many rooms and spaces. It was a mansion to house a family, not one bitter man and his wife. Lady Blackmore, unfortunately, did not have children of her own, as all of her pregnancies had resulted in miscarriages or stillbirths. It was a source of embarrassment for the Marquis as his only son and heir refused to return home, not since their falling out all those years ago.
From the little she had heard about that fateful day, Lord Blackmore had removed his son from his will, withholding his inheritance from Nash for defying him. It was Nash's grandparents, his mother's parents, who had promptly taken him with them to find the best surgeon on the continent. That had been the last she had heard of him. Nash had not bothered to write her a letter in all the years he had been gone, and Freddi had learned to live with it. She still felt some remorse for that day, blaming herself for the accident, but her parents had assured her that the fault had not lain with her alone. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the appearance of a large and robust woman.
“Miss Frederica Dunn, I presume?” she asked.
“Yes, Mrs Blunt. How do you do?”
“I daresay better than you. Lord Blackmore has asked me to inform you that he has terminated your employment. You are to vacate his estate in two weeks.”
Freddi felt as though her breath had been knocked out of her. Surely what she was hearing could not be right? Lord Blackmore may not like her, but she had never given him cause to do this to her.
“I do not understand, Mrs Blunt. Did his lordship give a reason?”
"If you are worth your grain of salt as a servant, you would know that we do not question our betters. I suggest that you find employment elsewhere, or you shall find yourself on the street. Good day."
The woman turned away from her, her foot surprisingly light for such a large frame. Freddi had half a mind to march into the Marquis' study and demand an explanation, but that could result in a bad recommendation. Would he give her one at all? If he could dismiss her in such a cold manner, there was a slim chance that he would do such a thing. What was she to do now? Freddi decided to go to the only place where both peace and pain dwelt in harmony.
Her parents' graves were still fresh. She had yet to lay a stone to mark their resting place, but she had placed two wooden crosses with their names carved into them. She stroked their names, whispering
them softly to herself.
“Here lie John and Martha Dunn. Father, mother, and the kindest of friends. I miss you both so much, you cannot imagine how much.”
A soft breeze had picked up, a fresh spring wind that softly caressed her cheeks. Freddi imagined them to be the hands of her mother, loving hands that had held and comforted her during the most trying of times.
“Where are you, Mama? I need you now. And Papa, where are you with your words of wisdom? I do not know what to do! Lord Blackmore wishes to remove me from my home. I do not know where to go or who to turn to.”
Tears that always seemed ready to fall made their way down her cheeks once again. Though she tried, she could not be strong, not at that moment. You have left me, and I shall leave my childhood home. How shall I manage? If only you had not left me! Lord Blackmore must have waited for the perfect chance to remove her from Blackmore Estate, as he had never been particularly fond of her.
“I know that he has laid some of the blame at my feet, he thinks that I caused Nash's accident.”
She had been but a child, and she had not known that there had been a snake. If Nash had only told her, they would not be in this position right now. He would still be here, and he would have never allowed her to be removed from her home. Perhaps her parents would still be alive had he still been here. At that moment, Freddi blamed Nash for all that was happening to her. It had been his decision to defy his father, and that had landed her in this terrible mess.
"I shall be happy if I never have to see him again!"
A harsh sob escaped her lips as she lay down beside her parents’ graves. If only she could close her eyes and be with them.
Finally! Finally, he had a way to remove that foolish woman from his midst! Really, two weeks was pure generosity on his part, she deserved to be kicked out immediately for what she had done to his son.
If Nash had listened to me, he would not be where he is today. He is also to blame for this sorry state of affairs.
No, she had been the one to entrap his son, to convince Nash to go against his wishes. It was just like a woman to do such a thing, even if Frederica had been only twelve. A woman was never too young to bewitch a man. Have I not married a woman who cannot give me any children? Abigail, pretty Abigail had entrapped him with her beautiful smile and come hither eyes.
William had been looking for a mother for his son at the time, as it had become more and more apparent that he needed a woman to take care of his son and household. Therefore, two years after Bridgette's death, he had married Abigail Rothschild, and what a mess that had become. Ten years, and still he did not have a backup heir.
After Nash had left, William had thought to have another son to take over the estate, but that had not come to pass. The woman was just a headache to him! It was just as well that he had not informed her of his plan to remove Frederica from his employment, or she would have likely given him a mouthful. The foolish woman had a soft spot for the servant girl, going so far as to have their cook prepare meals for her when her parents had died.
I only kept her here to please her parents. Martha and John had been loyal servants to me for many years, I could not simply kick out their only daughter, foolish girl that she is. They would have been better off with a son.
The knock at his door brought a smile to his face. Now to put into action the second part of his revenge. William knew exactly who that was, for the man had not knocked on his visible door, but on the one he hid behind his portrait. He pulled out a book, watching his hidden door swing open to admit his visitor.
“Mr Carbunckle, I have been awaiting you.”
“Yes, my Lord. I came as soon as I received your message.”
“Good, good. Take a seat, will you? Would you like a refreshment?”
The greedy man's eyes drifted to William's alcohol cabinet, but he said not a word.
“Aha, I see. Would a drink of the finest Scottish whiskey serve you well? You proved yourself a resourceful man when you procured this fine specimen for me.”
“It was a piece of cake, my Lord.”
“For you, I am sure it was.”
William poured the drink, handing it to the man. His lips curled a bit when he saw how dirty the man's nails were. Carbunckle was always in need of a bath, and William doubted that the man saw one more than once a month. The man took a healthy swig of the drink, his yellowing teeth showing as he grinned, smacking his lips together.
“Fine whiskey, this, fine indeed. Now, Lord Blackmore, you did not call me to exchange pleasantries. What is it that you need doing this time?”
“This is why I hire you and you alone, Mr Carbunckle, you understand me well. You are right; I have a job for you, one that will pay handsomely should you do it well.”
The man leaned into the leather chair, and William made a mental note to have it thoroughly cleaned as soon as the crafty man had left.
“That goes without saying, my Lord. You may pay me now as you know that I will complete the job well.”
"Yes, yes. I would like you to besmirch the reputation of one of my servants. Well, come two weeks, and she will no longer be my servant. You must make sure that she will not be able to find employment anywhere in Alfriston, do you hear me?"
“That is surely not a difficult thing to do, but which servant has angered you so greatly that you wish to destroy them in this manner?”
William opened his desk drawer, taking out a cigar and lighting it. He felt good, he felt good indeed.
“Miss Frederica Dunn,” he finally answered.
***
Nash had his carriage drop him off outside of Blackmore Estate. He did not wish anyone to know of his arrival until he was ready. His luggage would arrive later on, but for now, it was just him and his home. He gave a bitter laugh.
Home, if I can call it that after all that has happened.
Nash resented Blackmore Estate, he resented it with every fibre of his being. England itself, the land that he had loved as a young man, had come to remind him of the place that had caused him much pain both physically and emotionally. It was a place of loss, of regret, and broken promises. France had become his new home, where he had rebuilt his life and become the man that he was today.
A long-ago conversation came to mind, the last time that he had seen his father. Nash had been sixteen, and he had been happy to show his father his progress. He was now walking, but could only do so for short periods. His surgeon had warned him that he may never walk again, but Nash had been determined to prove him wrong. His father had come, and instead of the heartfelt welcoming he had prepared for his father, they had argued.
He wanted to blame Freddi for my injury, but I could not let him do that. I was the one to blame, I could have handled the situation better, but I had been terrified that she would get hurt. Pushing her out of the way had been the only way.
The horse had kicked him with such force that his leg had broken in several places, rendering him unable to walk.
He was furious that I still wished to defend her, promising that I would never have my inheritance. I do not know why he insisted on telling me anything of the inheritance as he had already told me three years earlier that I was no son of his.
Nash did not think that he would ever return to England, as he had a good life in France. His grandparents had returned some years ago, but he had remained behind, finding whatever employment he could to survive. He had not wanted to take a cent from his grandparents. Nash had wanted to be independent, to prove to himself and his father that he did not need the inheritance of the great William Blackmore to survive.
In time, a Frenchman had taken him under his wing, a lawyer by profession. Mr Jacques Theroux, a well-known man of the town that Nash lived him, gave him board and food, also training him to take over his practice as he had no surviving children of his own. Nash had become his apprentice, just recently completing work as an article clerk. He had been set to become a partner to Mr Theroux when a rumour had come to him concerning Bla
ckmore Estate.