by Abigail Agar
“Miss Philips, I would like to ask you something,” he said.
“Yes?” she asked, still not looking at him directly.
“I wondered what your plans are once I am recovered. You know that Miss Stevens is leaving us to be married. Are you willing to remain in her stead? Or … or do you have some reason to leave? I am not sure if you, as well, have plans to marry soon,” he said, hoping that she did not misunderstand his question.
Or, perhaps, it would not have been a misunderstanding. After all, he really did wish to know whether or not she had a betrothed. It was none of his business, and he could not understand why it was so important to him to have an answer, but he was deeply curious about it.
But she simply bit her lip for a moment and then answered.
“I have no other plans. I should like to remain here, if at all possible. I was not entirely sure if it would be an option for me, but if it is, that is what I would like,” she said.
“Oh, it is an option. Most definitely,” he insisted.
“Thank you, My Lord. I am glad to know that you are content to have me here,” she said.
“Of course. You have made all the difference, Miss Philips. You are welcome to stay as long as you are able. And, if you need anything at all, my mother will hear your petitions,” he said.
“You would not say this to another maid,” she said, observing a truth that caught him off guard.
For a moment, Ronan spluttered, but then he found his excuse.
“No, I would not. But there is no other maid who helped me during a season of extreme pain and sadness. You have been like a doctor to me, and that means something, you must understand. So, I can do nothing but share my gratitude with you and tell you how thankful I am that you have helped,” he said.
“It has been my own honour to help,” she said as if it was painful to say those words.
He wondered if she was struggling because he had been so rude and she still hated him, or if it was something else. There was something in her demeanour that he found hinting. It hinted that she was hurt by something, curious, maybe. But Ronan did not wish to pry. Rather, he wished to but did not think it would do him any good.
It would only further reveal the interest which he was trying to ignore.
“Well, I suppose I ought to give you a bit of freedom this afternoon. Shall we return inside?” he asked.
“Are you quite certain? You have been out for only half an hour or so,” she said.
“Yes, for now, I am happy to return. You ought to have a bit of time to rest,” he said.
Miss Philips helped him back inside, and by now, they were able to get him back in his bed, just the two of them, without any other assistance. Then, she departed from the room, and he was on his own.
A short time later, his mother came in to check on him.
“Ronan, my dear, how are you feeling?” she asked.
“I am very well, Mother,” he said.
“I am glad to hear it,” she said.
“Yes, it has been a good day. I was able to go out to the balcony for a little while and will likely go out again, later,” he said.
“Yes, I know you were out there. I was in the garden,” she said.
For a moment, Ronan was filled with panic.
The balcony hovered over the garden. And there was a bench just under it. If Ronan’s mother had been out there, and he had not seen her, most likely, she had been sitting on the stone bench.
She must have heard every word that he had shared with Miss Philips.
“I see …” he said.
“I heard the conversation between you and Miss Philips,” she finally noted.
“You did?” he asked.
“Indeed. And I found your behaviour to be exemplary. That is the young man that I tried to raise, you know,” she said.
“I am sorry that it has taken so long for me to begin to show that side,” he apologized with a wince.
“Yes, well, I understand the pressures on young men of society. You wish to show that you deserve your status, which is why you behave like such a boar. But you ought to have known better sooner and, perhaps, it was my own fault for doting on you the way I did,” she said.
“No, Mother, it was all my own fault. And I am sorry for how I was after the attack. I am embarrassed about it,” he said.
“It is in the past now. But I do wish that you would continue this change that has overcome you,” she said.
“I am trying,” he replied.
“I have noticed. And I do think your maid, Miss Philips, is helping,” she said.
“Yes, she has done a great deal,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to sound as casual as possible. After all, he did not wish his mother to think that he had any other sort of interest in Miss Philips.
“You know, she really is an excellent young woman. And she is from very good English stock,” she said.
“I suppose so,” he replied.
“I am grateful for her and the help that she has given to us all during your recovery. Of course, she has made all the difference for you, but she has been an asset in the home, overall. I think she was quite necessary for us,” his mother said.
“Yes, I agree,” he replied.
His mother looked at him with a strange sort of approval. There was a unique expression in her gaze, something that told him she was thinking along rather different lines than what would be custom.
“What is it?” he finally asked.
“Nothing at all, my boy. Only … only I do hope you know that I wish you to be happy. And happiness does not always look the way society says that it should. You are a good young man, and you have proven that you do not need to be what you think society expects of you. You have changed, and much of that is because of this young woman,” she said.
He tried to read into what she was saying, but he was frightened of what he thought it was.
“Anyway, my son, I do hope that you know I will be proud of you no matter what. I just want you to make the choices that will keep you happy and give you true peace. Know that you are the greatest young man I could ever have hoped to raise, and I am at peace knowing that you are learning what it is to be a good man,” she said.
“Thank you, Mother. I hope to make you proud as I continue down this new path,” he said.
“It has been a stark and sudden improvement,” she said with a laugh.
“And it shall continue,” he promised.
Ronan’s mother departed, but her words stayed with him. He understood what she had been saying, even if it made him nervous to acknowledge it.
She was giving her approval of Miss Philips. Whatever that approval meant, whatever it meant for the future, he had it. He had her permission to… to care?
But how could he begin to care for her? They were very different people. Perhaps he was only thinking these things because he felt so guilty about how he had treated her from the start.
Or, maybe, he really did think of her as something more than a maid.
Chapter 11
Melora was sketching out what she hoped she would look like on her wedding day and babbling on and on about her plans.
“So, if you see here, this is where the flowers will trail down through my hair,” she said, showing Lavender.
Lavender tried to picture it on Melora’s head as opposed to the strange drawing. She could mostly understand what her friend wanted, although it still appeared as though it might look a little bit strange. Lavender simply wasn’t sure how Melora intended to keep the flowers pinned in her hair.
“Will they not come falling off? How are they meant to trail downward?” she asked.
Melora opened her mouth to answer before closing it again, apparently realizing that she truly had no answer.
“Oh, dear. I suppose I just imagined them floating there,” she said, groaning.
“I do not think it works that way,” Lavender said.
Melora sighed in frustration and shook her head.
“You need not get upset about it. I do not doubt that you are going to be a masterpiece up there. Regardless of how the flowers lie, you shall be the most beautiful bride in all of England,” Lavender said, trying to encourage her.
“I do hope so. I only worry that I shall be a disappointment to my husband,” Melora said.
“What? Why would you think such a thing? He is going to be so overjoyed when he gazes upon you,” Lavender insisted.
“There is so much pressure, Lavender. I want to be a good wife … only I do not know how,” Melora said.
“You have one very great fortune, Melora,” Lavender said. “You may learn from your mother. I know that she shall not steer you wrongly.”
“Yes, you are right. But it is still difficult to believe that I can do things the way I ought. I may find that I am a terrible wife, that I leave my husband with great disappointment. I do not know what I would do if that were the result of all of this,” Melora said.
“It shall not be. You have no reason to fret, my dear,” Lavender said again. “Now, tell me something else about it. Something that will get your mind off all these nonsensical worries,” Lavender said.
“Well, we are going to have it at the church he attends, rather than my own. I believe we shall attend that one together as man and wife as opposed to the one I have attended with my family,” Melora continued, giving Lavender all manner of details about the wedding.
It sounded like a beautiful ceremony, followed by a reception with all of their favourite people. Friends and family alike would come to celebrate once the wedding had concluded.
“And the wedding itself will see just you and your husband and a few others?” she asked.
“Oh, yes. We are going to have a very standard wedding. The reception will be the grand event with all our guests,” Melora confirmed.
It sounded wonderful to Lavender. Still, she had to ignore the pang in her chest, knowing how much she would miss her friend at the estate once Melora moved on. Lavender would have no one with whom she was close. While she was still pleased with this opportunity, that part was difficult to accept.
“What is it? You look sad,” Melora noted.
“No, not at all. I am happy for you, just sad for myself,” she said with a laugh. “You know, I shall miss you tremendously.”
“And I shall miss you as well, Lavender. If anything, this ought to inspire you to marry as well. You would not be on your own anymore. You would have the freedom to move onward and be happy,” Melora said.
“Thank you for that, but it isn’t what I wish for,” Lavender said.
“Truly? I know that you say that you do not need marriage, but are you really so against the idea of it?” Melora asked.
Lavender paused, trying to think through her response. She had spoken with Melora about these things in the past, of course, but things were different now. There had been so many shifts in her life, from one to the next. Each day felt as though it had a measure of both uncertainty and adventure.
And each day held both loneliness and the fear of letting in another person.
“I cannot pretend that I never wish to be married, and I would not say that I feel that way. It is different from that, Melora. Instead, what I feel is a constant sense that things would be better if I am patient. I just do not desire to go out and search for a husband,” she said.
“But you do not have to do that. Just be open to it,” Melora said.
“I know myself. If I allow myself to be open to it, to think about it, I shall be consumed by it. There are days when the loss I have experienced drives me to desperation to be on my own. And other days, it drives me to search for companionship. I honestly do not believe there will ever be a day in between those two things,” she explained.
Melora nodded, although Lavender could not be certain that she understood what it was she was trying to say. It struck her, thinking about marriage. She did not detest the idea. Not at all.
But she remained frightened by it, and that was not going to change quickly.
“Perhaps, one day, things shall be different,” she said.
“I hope so. What about before? Back when you had status, and you were a woman of society. What did you want then?” Melora asked.
Lavender winced. She still hated to think back to that time. It always left her wanting to return to it.
“In those days, I wanted what every young woman in British society desires. I wanted to find a husband who was of my class or, perhaps, above it. But after I lost my father, I also lost my prospects. I lost the possibility that there would be a man out there who could love me and marry me because I have nothing now,” she said.
“Nothing? You have so many wonderful aspects to who you are,” Melora refuted.
But Lavender shook her head and gave her friend an appreciative smile.
“You know what I meant. Thank you for trying to make me feel better about it, but we both know that I am poor. I have no dowry, nothing that would make me worth any man’s time,” she said.
“You speak so poorly of yourself. Imagine if you simply accepted what a wonderful woman and friend you are. Many men would happily leap to hold you in their arms,” Melora reasoned.
“I fear that you believe me far more desirable than the gentlemen of England might consider me,” Lavender said, laughing.
“You ought not to think about it that way. I firmly believe that you are far better than you think you are. You may not have the same position you had when your father was alive, but what of it? Can you not see that you still have worth and value? There is no reason to believe that you are anything less now than you were then,” Melora reminded her.
It was true that she was the same person, regardless of her station in life. No matter how much Lavender fought to believe that truth, she struggled. No one else in society saw it that way. She had lost even her friends from before, as their mothers and fathers wanted them to be friends only with others of a similar station.
But even if she tried to convince herself that she was the same person—and even if she was desirable for a good man—how was Lavender meant to meet anyone? She never came across good men. There were scarcely any to whom she would wish to be married. So what was she meant to do?
“Lavender, you keep doing that,” Melora said.
“Doing what?” she asked, snapping back to attention.
“You keep drifting off into your thoughts as I am speaking to you. Tell me what is on your mind. What are you thinking about? Do you see how you could be having a far happier life than the one which you are living?” Melora asked.
Lavender shrugged, not entirely sure of the answer to that.
“I am happy with my life, Melora. Just because I am not searching for a husband does not mean that I live with dissatisfaction. You ought to know that it is difficult for me to think about these things. When I am trying to do my utmost to live with contentment, the idea of finding a husband is just unappealing,” she said.
“And that is all there is to it?” Melora asked.