Clean Inspirational Romance: Escape to Paradise (Inspirational Happy Sweet First Love Second Chance Romance) (Contemporary New Adult Love Inspired Holiday Short Stories)

by Johanna Jenkins

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just as I said. I’ve caught several times, just in the few days I’ve been here, mention of things not being the same, or how things are so different now.” He looked at me. “Is it because I started to work here?”

  I smiled. “No, no. That’s not it.” I sighed. It made sense to me that he knew, but I had not expected that I would be the one to tell him. “The Honeyfield family has had a very few difficult months. Last June –” and suddenly, I found it very, very difficult to speak about. I took a deep breath.

  “Easy now, are you alright?” Concern colored his handsome face.

  I held up my hands. “No, I believe that you should hear this. It will help you to understand Mr. Honeyfield that much better.” I readied myself once more. “Last June, Mrs. Honeyfield became ill. It came on slowly at first, starting as a weakness, and growing into aches and pains a few weeks later. As the weather grew colder, her health grew worse. The doctors were puzzled, calling it a bizarre case of influenza that she just could not shake. In October, she seemed to take a turn for the better, finally able to get out of her bed and play with the children, and spend some time walking in town. Everyone was relieved.”

  I hesitated.

  “But this story doesn’t have a happy ending…does it?”

  I shook my head. “That November, she became ill once more. But this time, it came on severely. A fever came over her, one such as I had never seen. We stayed by her side all night, continually trying to cool her off. She would scream, seemingly seeing things that were not there, and refused to put anything into her mouth to help her, tea or water.”

  I looked over at the stove, the dying embers flickering quietly. “She was gone before the first rays of dawn.”

  An uneasy silence filled the space, and neither of us moved for several minutes.

  “I’m…so sorry,” he said finally. “I presumed that Mrs. Honeyfield had passed, but I had no idea that it was so recent.” He sat back in his chair. “I had no idea.”

  I smiled. “We have done what we can to help make this family’s life a little easier since then. But it has been hard, since Mr. Thomas also became ill very soon after. Seemingly with the very same thing.”

  “Truly?”

  “What was so strange is that no one else became ill. We were terrified that the children would catch it, or Mr. Honeyfield. But no one else did.”

  “I cannot even imagine the pain that the family has had to endure.”

  I nodded my head. “Mr. Honeyfield, especially. I do not know how I might handle losing a spouse.”

  “Neither do I,” he replied.

  I nodded once more.

  “Well, now I understand fully Mr. Honeyfield’s reservations with me. I have continually felt as if I am treading on egg shells around everyone since I arrived.”

  “’Tis no surprise to me,” I replied.

  He looked down at his hands on the table.

  “Mr. Thomas was a great man. He treated me quite like a member of his own family. When he passed, it was very hard on all of us, especially so soon after losing Mrs. Honeyfield.”

  “It seems I have quite the reputation to live up to,” he said.

  “You do,” I replied frankly.

  Surprise colored his features.

  “But do not fear,” I said. “Mr. Honeyfield has a keen eye. He must have seen capability in you, otherwise he would have passed you by. In fact, he was sure of you much sooner than we all expected.”

  “Hmm,” he grumbled.

  I smiled at him. “Come now, do you think so little of us?”

  “What do you mean?” he replied.

  “Surely you must realize that if the master believes in you, then we all do as well, without question?”

  He remained silent, but I noticed a small smile appear on his face in the darkened room.

  I rose to my feet and cleaned our dinnerware from the table, leaving Mr. Clarke seemingly in a bit of a daze.

  “Well, good evening, Mr. Clarke,” I said to him. His eyes had been fixed on the back wall for quite some time, so I had not been sure if he heard me speak.

  As I turned to leave the room and make my way up the stairs, he stood to his feet and said, “Wait!”

  I turned back to him. “Yes?”

  “May I walk you to your room?”

  I considered his words for a moment. “You may,” I replied with a smile.

  And then, when he smiled, I felt something in my heart change. It was as if I had spent my entire life in black and white, and suddenly, the world was filled with wondrous colors.

  *****

  Mr. Clarke

  I told Miss Bannerman I loved her early one morning, just as the sun was rising, on the landing of the far eastern stairwell. The sun shone in her golden hair, giving her the appearance of an angel.

  She had cried, reminding me that this was her favorite place in the whole house. I placed my hand on hers. “I know,” I had said. Her tears flowed freely once more.

  I had been employed at Greenview manor for just under a year, and had discovered a special spot in my heart quite quickly for the lady. All the staff cherished her, and it was obvious why. Mr. Honeyfield trusted her with much, including all of his children, and she was considered by many to be second only to Ms. Henrietta, the housekeeper. She was caring, and gentle, and when she smiled, it was as if the sun itself was reflected in her eyes. And she was an admirable worker, often working far into the night on mending clothes and preparing activities for the children. She taught the oldest child, Miss Judith, the piano forte, and the only son Mr. Honeyfield had, Mr. Peter, arithmetic.

  “She should be a governess,” I had commented to Mr. Honeyfield one afternoon after she and the children had arrived home from town. There she had them learning basic economics and haggling from the various shopkeepers.

  “Mr. Clarke, that is preposterous,” Mr. Honeyfield replied, but he had smiled as he said it. “That would mean I would lose one of my best staff, after all. And goodness knows she would be phenomenal at it; the king himself would likely hire her, and my children would never forgive me.”

  “Of course, sir,” I had answered. But we exchanged knowing looks.

  Life had not changed for those around us, but my own life felt entirely new. Living on the duke’s estate when I had been young seemed so very dull and monotonous. But with Miss Bannerman, I looked forward to waking each day and being able to see her face. It made work pleasant and exciting, knowing I would pass by her in the halls and steal moments with her.

  She was adamant that it would not interfere with our duties, and I heartily agreed, since I discovered that I worked far harder and with more ease when I was as happy as I was. But we certainly were not able to contain our joy.

  The rest of the staff seemed suspicious of us, speaking to each other for extended periods of time, eating dinner together on a regular basis, and silently communicating with glances.

  “Be sure Master Honeyfield does not discover your infatuation,” Ms. Henrietta warned one afternoon before tea.

  I furrowed my brow at her. “And what makes you say such a thing?”

  She pursed her lips. “I know not how he would react.”

  Her words, though simple, were quite profound, and struck a chord in me. I wished to keep my position, but much more so, wanted to protect Abigail and her position. I did not want to be the reason that Mr. Honeyfield dismissed her.

  The fear of our positions in the house had me lost in thought for several weeks, and caused me to withdraw from Miss Bannerman. What troubled me most was that a life with Miss Bannerman suddenly seemed distant, and perhaps unattainable. What would be proper, I was not sure. Surely hired staff at an estate found their spouses among the workers, and were able to live normal lives, still able to fulfill their duties. Had this never happened in the Honeyfield home before?

  Quite a few of the staff were married and had families, but they lived away from the manor, in the village outside
the estate, and came in each day to help with the various duties of the home. But Ms. Henrietta, who herself was a lady far along in her years, had taken the time to warn me. Did that mean that something had happened in the past? Would Mr. Honeyfield truly be against any sort of union between his staff members?

  The thoughts troubled me as I went about my days, but I couldn’t shake the feelings that I had for her, not even for my own security.

  The first signs of spring finally came upon the manor. Flowers began to bud on the trees all along the estate, and the dull, lifeless sky grew more and more blue each day.

  “Miss Bannerman,” I nodded my head to her in the hall as we passed by one another, the afternoon sun streaming in the open windows, the air fresh and fragrant with flowers.

  Miss Judith and Miss Marina, laughing and skipping, smiled up at me as they passed, and made their way down the halls to their rooms. She stopped in front of me and smiled wide. Her blue hat flattered her features, and she had a basket full of wild flowers in her hands. My heart tightened in my chest. She was just so beautiful.

  “Mr. Clarke,” she replied. “How are you this fine day?”

  “I am quite well,” I answered.

  Cries came from down the hall, happy and innocent, from the girls as they ran from Miss Judith’s room to Miss Marina’s.

  “Have you ladies had a pleasant day?”

  “Oh, heavens yes, we spent a great deal of time selecting the perfect flowers for the ball this evening,” she answered, holding up her basket. “The girls wished for me to braid their hair with them.”

  “What a lovely idea,” I answered. I rocked on my feet and shifted my weight to my other leg. “Miss Bannerman, I have a small request.”

  She looked back at me, and some of her professional demeanor disappeared. The girls seemed occupied in their rooms, and other than their delightful shrieks, we were alone. “Yes, Mr. Clarke?”

  “How would you like to share in a small meal with me this evening? The Master and his family will be away at the ball, and the air is so mild that it seemed a perfect time to have a stroll through the gardens.”

  Her smile widened, all the way to her eyes, and she looked down at the basket in her hands. Her cheeks were the same color as the tulips in her basket. “Mr. Clarke, that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

  “Then meet me in the gardens after dusk.”

  “I will be there.”

  The day seemed to last far longer than it ever did. The duties that Mr. Honeyfield had for me seemed far too few today, and I found myself looking out the window every chance I had.

  “Something the matter, Mr. Clarke?” Mr. Honeyfield asked me as I glanced outside yet again.

  I shook my head. “No, sir. My apologies.” I smiled and offered him his smoking jacket, which he stepped into. Mr. Honeyfield had been sharing his hopes with finding a proper suitor for his eldest at this ball they were to attend.

  “Peter is still far too young,” he said, “But I suppose it is never too early to consider suitable possibilities.”

  “Of course, sir,” I replied.

  After I adjusted his collar, he turned to face me. “Mr. Clarke, are you sure you’re alright?”

  His words seemed weighted, and he was looking at me very intently.

  Did he know? I felt my heartbeat quicken, and I clenched the cloth I had used to shine his shoes in my hand. Did he know my feelings for Miss Bannerman?

  Mr. Honeyfield was an honorable man, and I was sure that I could trust him. He had never given me any reason to doubt his trust in me; truly, he put his whole life in my hands every day, giving me the responsibilities that he didn’t trust anyone else to do. I knew all of his dealings, and understood the way the household worked even better than he did some days.

  But I had to protect Miss Bannerman. I couldn’t risk it.

  “I am, sir. Truly. Thank you for your concern.” I smiled at him. “Now, we must get you your hat, otherwise Miss Judith will surely scold me for not ensuring you wore it.”

  He studied my face for a moment, then relaxed and smiled in return. “And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He turned and walked out of the room.

  I let out a breath as I followed him. I felt wretched for lying to him, but I reassured myself that I did it for Abigail.

  Even though deep down I know I did it for myself.

  The Honeyfield family left in a fanfare that would rival the king’s; the girls all adorned with beautiful fresh flowers and the gentlemen in fresh clothes from the tailor.

  “Goodbye, Miss Bannerman! Perhaps when I see you later this evening I will be an engaged woman!” Miss Judith said from the carriage, waving her handkerchief.

  Miss Bannerman laughed. “Perhaps you will be indeed! Enjoy yourselves!” And we waved them off as the carriage made its way down the drive, the first stars beginning to shine on the horizon.

  She and I nodded at one another before returning to our evening duties, preparing the home for when the family would return. We turned down the children’s beds, and I prepared everything Mr. Honeyfield might desire when he retired that evening.

  When everything was ready, I returned to the kitchens. The cook, Mrs. Gardener, was just finishing up her preparations for breakfast the next morning.

  “Would you, by chance, have an extra loaf of bread from lunch? And also some of that fabulous goat cheese from yesterday?”

  She raised an eyebrow at me. “And why might you ask?”

  I looked around. Everyone seemed to be far more curious than I was comfortable with today.

  She smiled. “I figured as much. Here,” she reached behind her and put a basket down in front of me, full of fruits and meats and even a bottle of wine, still half full.

  I just stared at it. “How –”

  “The food is from a picnic the girls took this afternoon, what was left of it. And Mr. Honeyfield didn’t care much for that particular wine. I think he said that it reminded him too much of the Mrs.” She frowned. “If I may be so forward, you aren’t the most subtle man. It has been quite apparent to me what has been going on.” She patted my arm. “Take care of her, will you? She means too much to me to see her hurt again.”

  Again? I wondered.

  She pushed the basket toward me. “Bring whatever you don’t finish back to me, and I will put it to use.”

  “Thank you,” I managed to say, incredibly touched by this gesture, unable to believe her generosity.

  She nodded. “Now get going.”

  I made my way out to the gardens and took a deep breath of the night air. It was cooler than I had expected, but the air was heavy with the rich smell of roses and lilac.

  “Mr. Clarke?” I heard. It was almost as if it was a dream, with the enchanting moonlight on the fountain, the water dancing and bubbling, and the stars bright and numerous overhead.

  “Abigail,” I said, unable to help myself.

  She smiled as she crossed the space between us. I took her hand in my free one, and I couldn’t take my eyes from her face. Her blue eyes appeared almost as silver in the moonlight, polished and perfect, and her hair like watery starlight, flowing over her shoulders. I ran my fingers through a long strand of it.

  “You are so breathtaking,” I said. “I love you.”

  “And I love you,” she replied.

  I took a deep breath to steel myself before my emotions took complete control of me, and I showed her the basket in my hands.

  “What a feast! Mr. Clarke, you spoil me,” she said.

  I smiled and I offered her my arm, which she happily accepted. We wound our way through the hedges to the edge of the gardens, where a long stretch of yard cascaded down to the edge of a wide pond. I had noticed a blanket tucked in the basket, which I pulled out and stretched out onto the silvery grass.

  As I began to pull food out, I realized that this basket was very intentionally packed. There were glasses, cutlery, and even a trimmed rose at the very bottom. It was almost as if Mrs. Gardener had known my
plans, and had…helped me?

  “What an extraordinary woman,” I said under my breath.

  “What did you say?” Abigail asked me.

  I smiled at her. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking out loud.” I showed her the bottle of wine.

  “That’s what Mr. Honeyfield was drinking with dinner yesterday,” she commented. “How did you get that?”

  I told her what Mrs. Gardener had told me. “Oh, how sad,” she replied. She looked up into the sky. “Mr. Honeyfield always has a very sad look in his eyes, wouldn’t you agree?”

  I considered her words. There certainly always seemed to be a reservation in his character towards us, but I always assumed it was simply a separation between master and butler. “Perhaps. I suppose I never knew him before he lost his wife.”

  “He was always so happy before she passed,” she said, looking at me. “Always laughing and always playing with the children.” She looked down at the blanket beneath us. “I think the children sometimes are too painful of a reminder of their mother.”

  We sat in silence for some time. I pulled out some food and we shared some easy conversation while we enjoyed the simple meal and a wonderful, dry wine. The moon continued its languid arc across the sky, the clouds passing in front of it the only suggestion that time was passing.

  “Can I share something with you?” she asked me.

  I leaned back on my hands and looked over at her.

  “Anything at all,” I replied.

  She beamed. “I have never been this happy in my entire life.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “Truly?”

  She nodded her head. “Never have I enjoyed life more than I do right now. I am excited to wake up in the mornings, I enjoy my job so much more, and I find that very little upsets me anymore. And it is all because you are in my life now.”

  Pride swelled in my chest. “I completely understand how you feel. That is exactly how I feel as well.”

  She swirled the little bit of wine that was left in her glass, examining it closely. “There’s something else I should tell you. Something I haven’t told you yet, but I think it is time that I can.”