“Very well, my lady,” she said.
I picked up a grape from a platter and popped it into my mouth. This definitely was a working kitchen. On the far end of the room was a wall of pots and pans neatly placed on shelf after shelf of stainless steel. To the right of that wall and what looked like a walk-in pantry, there were two large commercial ovens, two huge mixers propped on a wooden block style table, a brick oven for baking, three large sinks, a center island, a huge industrial sized refrigerator, a massive freezer and one, two, three large microwaves.
“Well, I guess I’ll go see what other trouble I can get myself into,” I said, jokingly. “It was nice meeting all of you.”
“As well as you, my lady,” Maragrete replied.
I walked out of the kitchen only to hear a buzz of voices behind me as the doors swung closed.
“I liked her,” a voice said.
I thought it was Claudia’s voice.
“Yes, she is very nice, but also very American,” Maragrete replied.
“But Lord Archer is in love. Have you seen the way he looks at her?” Charlotte returned. “He looks at her like the very sun rises by her alone.”
“What do you think the Duke is going to say?” Florentine asked.
I wasn’t trying to be snoopy, but I did want to hear about the Duke so I stayed quiet, listening.
“You know His Grace,” Jenney interjected.
“Who cares what the old wind bag says. She’s the most beautiful woman I have seen in quite sometime. I swear her hair is as golden as the sun. If I were Lord Archer I would marry her tomorrow, no waiting around.”
That sounded like Max.
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed, “and did you see how she quieted that raging demon Lord Archer purchased? Even that devil of a stallion was smitten.”
Zeus is no devil.
“Maxmillian, Ethan,” Maragrete snapped. “You should not talk of such. She is engaged to Lord Archer and the Lady of this household.”
No more talk was made of the Duke, so I explored my house with girl-like enthusiasm, feeling once again as if I were inside of a dream. I stopped in the corridor of the third floor and gazed at the long line of paned glass windows. At my feet were slanted squares shining across the floor. I walked into the sunlight then gazed out the glass, feeling the warmth hit my face. The property was vast. When it became a little warmer, I wanted to explore the grounds. I smiled at the thought of exploring the grounds, because I should be frightened to explore such a vast space, but somehow this was home, and I already loved it here.
Clank, clank.
I followed the sound; it was coming from the room at the far end of the corridor. I could see the door with light shining from beneath it then shadow, light, shadow, as though something was moving behind the door. I froze for a moment, a bit frightened, thinking it may be prudent to get Ashton, but then I argued with myself and shoved the fear aside.
I walked forward, toward my fear instead away from it. I reached out and touched the cool brass knob.
Clank…
I turned the knob. The noise did not subside. When the door was fully open, I saw numerous items covered in white sheets. This really wasn’t a bedroom, but more like a storage room. To my right, a windowpane was broken. Wind rattled through the room. This explained the movement I saw from beneath the door. The breeze caused the curtains to blow in and out, and the sheets that covered all of the bigger items tussled too.
Clank…
I turned toward the sound to discover an armoire half uncovered. One of the armoire doors swung open. A gust of wind shot through the broken window, causing the door to swing against the back of a tall covered item. The door, hitting whatever was covered beneath that sheet, was making the noise.
I walked over to the armoire and pulled down the sheet. Dust stirred. I sneezed. This room hadn’t been tended to in a while. I traced the carvings on the exquisite piece of furniture before opening both doors. Inside was clothing, men’s clothing. On the bottom of the armoire sat a box. I bent down and pulled out the carved box. It looked to be carved from oak, and it was the size of a shoebox.
On the top of the box was the same crest Ashton wore as a ring, the family crest. I flipped the gold latch and lifted the lid. Inside were letters, all addressed to Ashton. I bit my lip, considering…
I picked up the top letter. It was old; however, it kept the light scent of jasmine. I unfolded the paper.
Ashton, why have you stopped writing me? My heart aches for you. Your brother told me you are leaving soon, going back to school, but I must meet you again. All I can think upon is our kiss. I know you are meant for great things, while I am meant for a different life, but I am desperately in love with you. You know this, Ashton. I tell you nothing you do not already know. I also know we can never love each other freely, in the open, but I want to come to you, just once. I want to give my body, my heart, and my soul to you. Meet me in the stables or by our tree. You pick our meeting place and the time. Please Ashton, grant me my wish.
With all love, Jacqueline
I sat there, on the floor, reading letter after letter. Jacqueline poured her heart and soul out to Ashton. They were heart wrenching, filled with such pain, such longing. I recognized some of myself caught inside of Jacqueline’s correspondence. Jacqueline knew of desperate love; she had not been lying to me when she said she knew of it.
I came to the last letter…
I must see you. I am with child. Meet me at the stables, midnight tomorrow.
Jacqueline.
My hands started shaking. My eyes welled over with tears. I read and reread those four words over and over…I am with child.
I placed all the letters into the box except one, the one with the declaration of Jacqueline’s pregnancy. I placed it into the envelope, stood up on shaking legs, and somehow found the strength to exit the room.
I passed Remington on the stairs, and stopped.
“Remington, the room at the end of the corridor on the third floor needs some attention. The windowpane is broken. Will you see that it gets fixed?”
“Yes, of course, my lady,” he replied with a bow.
I made my way to Ashton’s study. I never knocked, just walked in; letter in hand, tears streaking down my cheeks. Ashton looked up from his desk with a smile, then with concern once he saw my condition.
“My dove, what is wrong?” he asked, standing to his feet, his chair making the protest as the legs skidded back from the desk. “Has someone done something to upset you?”
I marched forward, coming to the edge of his desk, wiping the tears, sniffling, trying to gain control as I set the letter down in front of him.
“I wish to know about this,” I said with a quivering voice.
Ashton looked confused. He glanced down.
“Where did you find this letter?”
“I was walking up on the third floor, and I heard a noise. The windowpane in the end room is broken. It was causing the armoire door to bang into something so I went to close the armoire door and found a box with letters inside, this letter,” I explained, pushing it toward him with my fingertips.
Ashton sat down as if he had no strength. He closed his eyes. Rubbed his thumb up the middle of his chin. Opened his eyes. Picked up the envelope, and removed the letter. He read it, then placed the letter back into the envelope quite calmly.
“Are you sure you wish to speak of this letter?”
“Without any doubt, Ashton.”
Ashton’s eyes met me. He stood up, his hands resting on his desktop. He stood there quietly for a moment before walking around his desk and taking my ice-cold hand. He led me into the small parlor where we could sit more comfortably. Once we were seated he grabbed a quilt from the back of the lounger and wrapped it around my shoulders.
“You are freezing, my dove.”
“I am upset, Ashton. Do not baby me.” I sniffed.
He reached for my cheek. I pulled away.
“Please do not pull away from me, m
y dove. You are breaking my heart.”
“Maybe you are breaking mine,” I replied, rolling myself up into a ball, my defense, my old habit of hiding away in plain sight.
I pulled my legs up to my chest, securing my arms around my knees, tucking my head, hiding.
“Trinity,” he said, finding no response. “I promised I would never lie to you. You must know I shall keep my promises. You have asked about the letter so I will give you the truth.”
From beneath the blanket I stirred. “She was going to have your baby, wasn’t she?”
Chapter Six
“Trinity, my love, please look at me,” Ashton requested. I did not move. “Trinity…” Nothing but silence rang out with no response from his wife. Ashton sighed deeply. “No, it was not my child which Jacqueline carried.”
My head popped up, searching Ashton’s face for the truth of his words. I flung back the blanket and lunged at him.
“No,” I said, needing to hear the word. “You said ‘no,’” I cried, sobbing. I started kissing his neck, his jaw, his chin, his lips. “I’m sorry, Ashton. I’m sorry I thought the worst. I’m sorry—”
He cut me off with a long, lingering, passion-filled kiss.
“You need not be sorry, my dove,” Ashton assured. He brushed back some of the damp curls from my tear stained cheeks. “Calm yourself, and breathe.” I shook. “Shh…” I nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck. “I will give you the answers you seek, Trinity. Do not worry, my dove.”
“My Lord,” Remington called, “I must apologize for the interruption, but your father has rung. He is on the line, and insistent.”
“Tell my father I shall ring him back. I am unable to come to the phone presently.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Trinity, my love, you are cutting off my air with the grip you have around my neck,” Ashton said with a chuckle, however strangled it sounded.
“Sorry,” I said, rolling my body onto his lap so he could hold me. I rested my ear against his chest, completely lost in the sound of his heartbeat, and wrapped my fingers into the material of his shirt. “I’m sorry I moved from you when you tried to touch my cheek. Will you forgive me?”
“Yes,” he said. “I understand the hurt, my dove. You read the letter which stated Jacqueline was with child so you assumed—”
“I should not have assumed. I should have let you tell me the story instead of jumping to conclusions. Besides, even if you had slept with Jacqueline it was a long time ago. You and Jacqueline both lived a life that I was never part of, so I shouldn’t be so jealous. I know you have loved women before me.”
“You are wrong,” Ashton assured. “I only love you, as I shall always only love you, Trinity.”
“Will you tell me about Jacqueline? I know some of the story, but I thought your brother, Gavin, raped her, taking her virginity in the process.”
“My brother did take her virginity, as well he raped her, almost killed her,” Ashton said with a harsh grimace.
“But she was pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t…”
“My dove, I shall start at the beginning.” I shook my head in agreement and watched Ashton’s face. “Jacqueline’s father, Gerard Rousseau, was employed by my father. Gerard was in charge of the stables here. My father dabbled in horses. He bred some chestnut bays and some Welsh ponies, but nothing too seriously. I guess you could say Jacqueline and I grew up together; however, after I turned ten I attended the private boarding school. I have already spoken to you about that.”
“Yes. The one where you were almost expelled for smoking the headmaster’s cigars with your friend Thaddeus?”
Ashton smiled tenderly. “Yes, my dove.”
“So were you friends with Jacqueline growing up?”
“If my father would have had his way, no, however my mother truly liked Jacqueline’s mother so we did spend time together, much to my father’s disapproval. I was two years older than Jacqueline, more interested in other pursuits like hunting, horses, and reading, not really interested in girls. The year I turned sixteen though, things changed. I had come home for the summer, and Thaddeus, who was to join me, could not.”
“Why?” I asked.
With a half smile Ashton said, “Thaddeus broke his arm in a riding accident so he spent the summer in England. That summer my family and I traveled to France; we came here to this chateau.”
“So Jacqueline was here that summer?”
“Yes. Jacqueline had changed from the little girl to a young lady. I can still remember her long, flowing, golden hair—”
“Golden hair? But her hair is raven.”
Ashton tapped the tip of my nose. “Yes, her hair is raven, but she colors it. Her real color is close to yours, my dove.”
“Oh.”
“Jacqueline was beautiful, so I noticed her in the way a boy notices a girl,” Ashton said. “We did spend some time together. We went riding, we talked, we kissed, but we never did more than kiss. When my father found out I was spending time with her, he flew into a fury and threatened to cease her father’s employment if my relationship with Jacqueline did not cease. I could not allow her father to lose his employment, his family’s only source of income, so I stopped seeing her.”
Ashton looked far away as he spoke. I reached up, touching his face. Ashton’s gaze fell to my face.
“We wrote letters, which my brother Gavin passed between us. When my father discovered I was writing to her, I stopped. I had to. I could not allow her family to suffer due to my father’s blind way of thinking. Social status was important, so of course the daughter of a stable hand would not meet his qualifications. Gavin started consoling me, assuring me everything would be fine, but somewhere along the way Gavin started partaking in more illicit endeavors. Drugs became a god to him. Crack seemed to be his drug of choice, however just about any drug he could get his hands upon seemed to give him pleasure within the endeavor.”
Ashton stopped talking for a moment. His face took on a harshness with the memory of the past.
“It was the night of my seventeenth birthday. My father had been drinking so he excused himself from the festivities, retiring for the night. My brother had joined him in the drink, but did not call it a night. Jacqueline showed up. Mind you, she had come without an invitation. I told her she needed to leave, but never once did I explain myself, tell her why. I should have told her, explained myself, and my attempt to keep her father from losing his job, but I did not. She, not understanding, became extremely upset and started to cause a scene.”
“ ‘Stop this, Jacqueline,’ I told her. “ ‘You are causing a scene. I do not wish this. You need to leave.’”
“ ‘No. Tell me why you are being so cruel, Ashton.’”
“ ‘Go, Jacqueline. You will find nothing but pain here. I have nothing to offer you.’”
“I watched as she ran out the doors, out into the night. I wanted to go after her, but my brother stopped me, saying if father found out, Jacqueline’s father would lose his employment. Gavin assured me he would take care of her, take her home. He grabbed two bottles of wine on his way out. He caught up to her, soothed her, offered her a drink, of which she partook. He took other things that night as well. Once she was inebriated, he took her virginity as his own.”
“Gavin was the father, wasn’t he?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes. Jacqueline wrote me the letter you brought to me. Of course my brother read it. He read every letter we ever wrote to each other. The night I was to meet her was her fifteenth birthday. Fifteen is too young to be with child. I was going to meet her, help if I could; however, my brother had other plans. Gavin drugged me. He slipped something into my food. I slept while he went to meet Jacqueline, here in these stables. He beat her, raped her, hurt her so badly she was hospitalized for weeks. She lost the baby.” Ashton closed his eyes. “She lost the ability to have children. Gavin took so much from Jacqueline, and he almost took her life. For a time
, I believe she wished he had.”
I reached up to touch the deep scowls upon Ashton’s forehead.
“You know it’s not your fault, Ashton.”
“I should have done more, explained my actions. I should not have cowered to my father, but I thought I was helping by staying away. I should have never trusted my brother,” Ashton said in a rush.
“Should haves do us no good, Ashton. Trust me, I know.”
“You sound just like Jacqueline.”
“You did what you thought was right. You didn’t want to cause Jacqueline pain or embarrassment. You were trying to keep her father employed. You could not believe your brother whom you loved would betray you or hurt Jacqueline. It was not your fault, Ashton.”
“I know,” Ashton said brushing the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “You are a wise woman. Has anyone ever told you?”
“Alec told me once, but he was just being nice. I’ve done some very unwise things in my life.”
Ashton smiled. “Ah … yes,” Ashton said in a teasing tone, “I imagine you have in all the long life you have lived.”
“Are you saying I’m too young?”
“You are young as well as a tiny bit,” Ashton said tapping my nose.
“So not only am I too young, but I’m too small!”
“And stubborn, do not forget stubborn,” Ashton added.
I jumped up from his lap, my arms crossed and my chin set.
“So you think I am a tiny, stubborn child! You are trying to piss me off?”
“Is it working?”
“No,” I lied, turning on my heels. “I will not give you the satisfaction, Lord Archer.”
Ashton sprung to his feet in one live move, up and off the lounger. He snatched me up within his arms and began kissing my neck.
“Then, may I give the satisfaction?” Ashton kissed my jaw, then bit that spot which sends pleasure through me. “So we are without misunderstanding, I do not believe you to be a child. You are amazing, wise beyond your years, and invigorating. The fire within you calls to me, entices me, and your body is sheer perfection. You must know how I burn for you, Trinity.”
The Good Sister: Part Two Page 7