by Abby Ayles
Joanna blinked, startled and looking at him fearfully.
“I-I’m sorry?” she asked nervously.
Francis’s heart ached. He saw then just how brusque he had been with his faithful household staff in the time since Caroline’s death, and he felt guilty.
“You have likely made the children’s night, and I appreciate that beyond words,” he said to the woman, giving her a warm, gentle smile.
The woman beamed at him and curtseyed deeply.
“My pleasure, milord,” she said, keeping her voice just as quiet.
Francis nodded gently to dismiss her, then watched his children’s faces light up at the heaping table to desserts that had been served. When he looked at Emma, she was smiling brightly at him, as well.
For that first time that day, Francis felt pleased and was proud of himself for not becoming a beast at the staff taking such liberty without his consent. It was then that he realized that his servants truly did care about him and his children and that he was more than grateful for it.
“Please, everyone,” Francis said pleasantly, gesturing to the large spread of sweets. “Help yourselves and enjoy it.”
Emma helped the children fill their plates, perhaps too much to his normal liking, with cakes and pies. Francis could not help but chuckle as Emma put a good bit of dessert on her own plate, as well.
In fact, the sweets epidemic was so tempting as he watched the others, that he had an extra slice of pie and cake, as well. After the emotional turmoil of the day, it felt nice to have something he had once enjoyed as a child, and once more he was grateful to Joanna and the rest of the kitchen staff.
After the meal, rather than excusing themselves, the children looked at him expectantly. Francis took a deep breath, knowing well that the children were aware of what that day was to all of them.
“Are you ready to prepare for bed?” Francis asked.
Winston groaned, but Rowena’s face grew apprehensively hopeful.
“Well, I was hoping that you might read us a story tonight,” the little girl said timidly.
Francis took a deep breath. The request was not an unreasonable one, and he knew that the children must be missing their mother just as he was that day. However, he was unsure of what to say.
Emma spoke before he could give them a harsh, reflexive response.
“Which story would you like to have read to you?” she asked.
“The Fox and the Lamb,” Winston and Rowena said, almost in unison.
Francis’s face grew pale. He knew that that was the story Caroline used to love to read to them, especially whenever the children were sad or restless. His chest throbbed as he thought of those evenings.
Once more, Emma proved how much of a godsend she truly was to their little, broken family.
“Would you like for me to read it to you?” she asked. She was addressing the children, but she looked up at Francis for just a moment.
His heart ached for the children’s request, and the grief they must be feeling which, he now regretted, he had ignored for far too long. But he knew that they needed him just then, just as he had needed Emma’s company at the cemetery.
More so, because he was their father, and they missed their mother just as much as he did.
He also felt an overwhelming sensation of love and appreciation for Emma. She had offered to take on the task for him, without judgment or disapproval. However, he knew what he must do.
“Thank you, Miss Baker,” he said, looking pointedly but gratefully at Emma. “But I would be happy to read to the children tonight.”
Winston and Rowena looked at him with excited disbelief.
“Really?” Winston asked.
“Of course,” Francis said, smiling.
“Oh, thank you, Papa!” Rowena said. She could not contain her excitement, and she ran across the table and hugged her father.
Francis felt tears begin to sting his eyes again, and he returned his daughter’s embrace wholeheartedly.
“Well, let us get to it,” Francis said. “Excuse us, Miss Baker.”
Emma beamed at him, and he could see tears forming in her eyes, as well.
“Of course,” she said. “I will be in my room if you need me.”
Once again, Francis felt love for her swell in his heart.
“Thank you,” he said. “But you may do whatever you wish for the evening. The children and I will be alright.”
Emma once more smiled warmly, then excused herself and exited the room. Francis called for the kitchen staff to clear the table and then escorted the children to their room.
Francis started toward Rowena’s bed, preparing to turn it down to tuck her in, but the children both leaped into Winston’s bed. He turned to the children to see what they were doing, and Rowena patted the edge of the bed.
“Come sit with us to read, Papa,” Rowena said. “Please?”
Francis began to tell them that they really should be in their own beds and preparing to go to sleep, but he changed his mind. Instead, he smiled warmly at his children and fulfilled his daughter’s request.
He eased himself onto the edge of the small bed, and his children pressed themselves as close to the other side as they could to allow him room.
Once everyone was comfortable, Winston handed his father the book. Francis’s heart ached again as he looked at the cover. He had not seen that book since before his wife died, but it was apparent from the wear and fading that the children had never stopped reading it.
“We have never asked Miss Baker to read this one,” Winston said sheepishly.
“No,” Rowena said. “This one is our special book.” The little girl gestured to indicate that she meant just the three of them.
Francis understood what they were saying, and his eyes began to burn. He pretended to study the cover of the book more closely, so his emotions did not betray him.
After a moment, he blinked back the tears and cleared his throat.
“Are we ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” the children cried enthusiastically.
Memories flooded Francis’s mind as he read. This was one of the children’s longer books, so Francis would sometimes read it to the children with Caroline. They would take turns so that neither of their voices got too tired, and it would sometimes take them a couple of days to finish it.
This time, however, as Francis acknowledged the memories that came, he felt less sadness. Instead, he recalled the happiness he had felt as they sat together as a family, reading.
He even found himself doing some of the old voices, like he and Caroline used to do when they read that book, and the children clapped and giggled happily.
After some time, Francis noticed that the children had fallen silent. He looked beside him, expecting to see them asleep. Instead, he saw them hugging one another, tears silently falling down their cheeks.
He did not need to ask them what was wrong, nor did he need any prompting to comfort them. He picked up Rowena and put her on his other side, and moved closer to Winston so that he could embrace them both.
He pulled his children close to him and stroked their hair. None of them spoke for a few moments, and Francis suddenly realized that he had never comforted his son and daughter like that after their mother’s death.
He sought words of comfort for his children but discovered that he could think of none.
“I miss Mama,” Rowena said, hiccupping.
Winston sniffled softly, and Francis felt his shoulders heave.
“So do I,” he said, his voice breaking, and Francis’s heart along with it.
Unable to hold back his own tears any longer, Francis allowed them to fall once more. He still could not muster any words to give his children any comfort, so he decided that honesty would be best.
“I miss her, too,” he said, his voice cracking as his son’s had. “I miss her so much.”
“You do not hate us, do you?” Rowena asked.
Francis was shocked, but once more he knew what
was bothering his daughter.
“Of course not, sweetheart,” he said.
“We thought you did,” Winston said. “Especially since you never spend time with us since…” Winston trailed off, sobbing.
“Oh, son,” Francis said.
The temptation to try to explain himself to his children was great at that moment, but he felt nothing but shame. He now knew that no reason he gave, no matter how justified he once felt it was, would ever excuse his cold, indifferent behavior toward his children.
So, he said the only thing he could say. The one thing they needed to hear the most.
“I am so sorry,” Francis whispered. “To both of you. I love you very, very much.”
At this, his children hugged him tighter. They both buried their faces into his sides, and he held them like that for half an hour, before he realized that their weight against him was growing heavier.
He glanced down and saw that both his children were fast asleep. He quickly realized that he would not be able to ease his way out of the bed without waking them. He also realized that he did not mind.
He thought about the things that Emma had said to him. She was right when she had told him that Caroline would not tolerate the man he had become since her death.
Emma was also quite correct whenever she had told him that Caroline would be very upset with him for the way he had treated their children. She would be furious with him for taking out her death on the children, especially when they needed him so desperately.
He was finally able to admit to himself that his previous attempts to spend time with the children had been, at least partly, just for show. He did not want Emma to think ill of him, so he had tried to spend time with them to show her he was not the terrible ogre she thought he was for avoiding his children.
However, he also had to admit that he had very much enjoyed the time he had spent with them, even though it had still been a bit painful for him.
He also knew that, even though they had loved each other very much in life, she would not want him to mope for the rest of his days. It would break her heart to see him suffer so terribly forever, and she would want him to move on and be happy.
Then and there, as he cradled his sleeping children, Francis made a very important decision.
He would, at last, begin making a true effort to do exactly as Caroline would want him to do. He knew that he must try to move on, not just for his sake, but for the sake of his children. While they would always miss their mother, they would never be able to work through their grief and move on with their own lives if he did not do the same.
And he knew with whom he wished to move on, although the deal with his father-in-law made that extremely difficult.
He could not dwell on that just then, however, although he did not intend to just give up on the hope just yet. It would only serve to make him more miserable still, unless he found some miracle by which he could say to hell with that business deal and pursue Emma.
One thing he did realize as he thought about helping the children, and himself, move on, was that Caroline still very much haunted his home. Caroline’s belongings were still all throughout the house, exactly as she had left them before she died.
He could not get rid of her things, because he and Caroline both would wish for the children to have what they wished of hers when they were older, especially Rowena. However, he knew that he needed to pack up everything and put it away, somewhere easily accessible, but not in constant view.
Indeed, being surrounded by things that reminded them all of Caroline was much like living with her ghost, and he knew that was not healthy, for any of them.
As he drifted off, still holding his children to him, he decided that he would begin the task as soon as possible.
Chapter 25
Emma found herself struggling to fall asleep that night. She thought about everything that had transpired earlier that day.
She had known that Francis desperately grieved for his late wife, but she could have never imagined just how much so. His tears had broken her heart, and it was all she could to not begin to cry along with him.
Emma sighed and turned over in her bed. Not for the first time, Emma thought about how little it mattered. They may care for each other, but he still must marry Rosaline.
Emma had told Francis that it would not hurt her whenever it happened, but as she lay there struggling to sleep, she wondered just how true those words were.
She said a quick prayer to the heavens, thankful that she had the next day off from the children’s lessons. At this rate, if she slept at all, it would be until the time lessons normally ended.
It felt as though she had barely blinked her eyes when she felt someone gently shaking her. She opened her eyes and saw one thin streak of sunlight weakly beginning to peek in through her window.
She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes.
“Emma,” a woman’s voice whispered loudly. “Emma, are you awake?”
“Margaret, what time is it?” Emma asked.
What on earth was Margaret doing waking her so early, and so urgently? What had happened?
The idea that something might have happened to Marcus took hold of her mind, and her eyes flew open. She was fully alert.
“What has happened?” Emma asked. She did not wait for an answer before she swung her feet out of bed and got up.
“You just received a letter, just a moment ago,” Margaret said hurriedly. “The messenger said it was quite urgent.”
“I should say so, seeing as it is just now sunrise,” Emma said, taking the letter. She hoped that Margaret did not see her hands shaking as she turned over the envelope.
She read the name on the front carefully and sagged with relief. It was not from Marcus, or from anyone who was helping her look after him. It was from Rosaline.
Confused, she opened the envelop and read the letter.
Emma,
I need to meet with you on a most urgent matter. I do not wish to discuss the details in this letter but know that it is of the utmost importance.
I have found a way to help us all with our current predicament. I trust that I do not need to say anything more.
Please, Emma, I need to see you as quickly as possible. I plan to be at Bea’s Café in London around lunchtime, and I do hope that you can get away to meet with me then.
I hope that this letter reaches you in time, and I do apologize for the short notice of it all. Just know that it is quite necessary, because time is of the essence.
Sincerely,
R.
Emma sat back down on her bed, her heart still working to slow itself after the fright she had given herself thinking that the letter might be about Marcus.
Margaret was watching her anxiously, and Emma reached out and took her hand.
“Thank you very much, Margaret,” Emma said. “It is nothing terrible. Rosaline just wants to meet me about something important today.”
Margaret visibly relaxed, but her brow remained furrowed.
She could not tell Margaret what Rosaline had been up to, trying to fix Emma up with Francis, so she gave the nanny her best reassuring smile.
“I will meet her for lunch today,” Emma said. “She said she merely wants to discuss something with me.”
Margaret seemed satisfied with Emma’s confidence and response. She smiled back at Emma.
“Very well,” she said. “Would you like me to ask the butler to arrange a carriage for a trip into town around noon?”
Emma nodded.
“Yes, thank you very much, Margaret,” she said.
Margaret’s smile broadened and she nodded. Then, she left, closing the door behind her.
Emma dressed slowly, wondering what new plan had stricken Rosaline now, and what it was that she could be up to.
It occurred to Emma that she had not gotten the chance to tell Rosaline about her talk with Lucius, and she hoped that the meeting would not be the result of Rosaline plotting under the assumption that the s
hips actually existed.
Once she was dressed, and the sun had risen a bit higher in the sky, Emma sought out Francis, who she found taking breakfast alone in the breakfast room.
“Good morning, Miss Baker,” he said, rising from his seat when she entered.
“Good morning,” she replied.
“Would you care to join me for breakfast?” he asked, walking around the table to pull out a chair for her.