by Lucia Ashta
“How many times do I have to tell you, Clara? ‘Um’ is so unladylike. Omit it from your speech.”
“Yes, Mother.”
She cast a regretful glance at the correspondence I interrupted before sitting back in the high seat of her chair and folding her hands across her lap.
Her eyes were fixed on me. A rivulet of sweat began to snake its way along the bones of my corset.
“I was thinking, perhaps it would be a good idea for Maggie to accompany me once I settle at the Court in Chester.”
Mother arched her eyebrows. I hurried on. “Maggie knows so much about the ways of the nobility, having been guided by her mother, your own lady’s maid, who learned it all from you. Maggie would help me with how I should dress and behave once I marry Samuel. She would make sure that I adjust to the Court there well.”
Mother’s face was immutable.
“I trust Maggie to always guide me in a way that supports my best. And the family’s, of course.”
Something crossed Mother’s eyes then, and I secretly commended myself for thinking to add the point about Maggie being able to guide me toward the well-being of my parents whom I represented even after I married. Maggie and I hadn’t discussed my saying this in all our rehearsals. But of course it would all come down to this. How did my actions and choices benefit Mother and Father? Wasn’t that what all my life had been about?
“Perhaps you have a good point, Clara,” Mother said, as if that was unexpected. “The ways of the court and the nobility have never mattered enough to you. It’s as if you have no idea how fortunate you are to lead the life of a lady.
“Having Maggie there with you can only help. You’ll need to be very careful to do exactly what is expected of you as Samuel’s wife. It’s imperative that everyone at Court accept you so that your transition into your future life and its titles will be guaranteed.”
Mother studied me, and I did my best not to wonder what she saw as her eyes swept me up and down. “Yes, Maggie will go with you to Chester.”
She turned her attention back to her letter. “Shouldn’t you be studying right now, Clara?” she said to her desk.
I retreated from the study, confused. I’d achieved the small victory I set out to accomplish, yet I didn’t feel victorious. Around Mother, I never did.
Maggie would have to leave her mother and everything familiar to her behind, but she thought the change of scenery might be good. She’d never ventured far from Norland.
“Perhaps I’ll meet a boy there that likes me, and he and I will marry.” She and I were behind the closed doors of my chambers, where Maggie became a different person. “Wouldn’t that be amazing, Milady?”
I didn’t think marriage was much to look forward to, but Maggie saw it as an escape from a life spent attending to others. It made me sad, and I wished I could do more for her than share encouragement I didn’t believe in.
“I will be very happy for you to meet a boy you can love and marry.” I mentioned love; she hadn’t. She considered me a romantic for thinking love played any part in marriage. But what kind of life would it be if it were devoid of love? “And I do hope you meet him at the Court in Chester. It will be so very nice to have a friend there. I’ll miss home terribly, especially Gertrude.”
I was trying not to think too much about what it would be like to leave my favorite little sister behind. Just remembering that I only had a few more weeks to share with her made me anxious.
Of course, I would miss my other sisters too, but Gertrude and I shared something that we didn’t with the others. She and I were similar. We yearned for excitement in life. We found beauty and intrigue in that which our sisters did not.
Gertrude and I had spent countless hours together—when our governesses deemed it appropriate—in the garden and lakeside. We examined plants and animals with an enthrallment our sisters didn’t understand.
“I think I’ll like to stay at the court in Chester, Milady. Chester sounds interesting, and I’ve never gone from home before.” Maggie’s eyes were dreamy. I envied that she could look forward to what I dreaded.
Even knowing that Samuel was a nice boy didn’t make it much easier to leave the only home I’d ever known and the sister I loved more than anyone else.
“I wonder what he’ll be like,” Maggie said in a wistful voice I didn’t hear often.
“Who?”
“The boy I’ll marry, silly! I mean, Milady.”
I smiled softly. I’d asked Maggie to stop calling me “milady” while in my chambers many times, but she insisted. She feared that she might get overly used to it and address me improperly in public. I didn’t like the formality between us, but I couldn’t blame her. Mother dealt with impropriety harshly, and I didn’t wish her attention on Maggie.
“Well, he’ll be handsome, of course,” I indulged her. “He’ll be kind and fun. And he’ll have lines that crinkle around his eyes from so much laughter and sunshine.”
“Yes! He’ll be all of that!”
“And he’ll like to kiss you under the moonlight,” I teased, but Maggie loved it. Her wistful eyes grew rounder, and she was lost to her dreaming.
Then there was a knock at the door.
Maggie jumped up from her usual seat next to the hearth, straightened her uniform, and opened the door with her composure properly in place.
The woman on the other side of the door looked very much like Maggie, although age had softened her features. Years of service had taught her to accept her life as it was and to find joy wherever she could.
“Hello Margaret,” she said with a smile.
“Hello Mum.”
“The Countess would like to see Lady Clara as soon as possible.”
Maggie nodded. “Yes, Mother. I’ll tell her now.”
The woman’s kind eyes clouded over. “There has been news from the Court at Chester.”
*
“Mother? You called for me?” I stood at the entrance to her chambers.
“Yes, Clara. Come in.
“Take a seat. Warm yourself by the fire.”
Mother searched my eyes. Had I heard the news already? “We received a missive from Chester this morning.”
A flutter of hope rose within me. Maybe it was a letter from Samuel for me.
“There has been a change in circumstances with the Count’s eldest son, Samuel.”
Hope forgotten, I waited for it. I struggled to keep my body from shaking with nerves and emotion. I knew my parents’ ways too well.
Mother turned to look out the window as she continued. “One of Samuel’s earlier prospects has unexpectedly come into wealth and the Count and Countess of Chester find themselves obligated to entertain a new offer the girl’s family has made them. The family is able to offer the House of Chester substantially more than we are.”
Mother grimaced but moved on quickly, with the resilience of a good noblewoman, prepared to make the best of any situation, finding the advantage to any disadvantage.
“We can’t truly blame the Count and Countess of Chester as your father and I would have done the same if this had happened to us. It’s the smart thing to do. And since there was no written contract between us outlining the terms of the marriage, we have no recourse to hold against Chester.
“However, the Count of Chester has generously offered that you marry his second son. While this second son, Winston, isn’t set up to inherit the title of count nor potentially that of duke, there’s always the chance that Samuel will die and Winston will inherit after all.
“Also, the Count of Chester has softened the blow for us by offering the title of Earl of Lombarge to Winston. One of the Count’s relatives is about to pass without inheritors, and the title will pass on to him. The Count of Chester has agreed to enter into a written agreement that will reserve the title of earl for Winston. Hence, you will become an earl’s wife.
“Of course, your father and I find ourselves forced to accept this alternate arrangement and have already responded with
our acceptance to the Count of Chester’s proposal, before he has the chance to change his mind. This time, we’ll be sure to secure a written contract immediately. You’ll still marry in the spring, and everything will continue as arranged.”
No. Nothing would continue as planned. Nothing was as it had been moments before. It was enough to come to terms with marrying one stranger, but it was quite another to dismiss the boy I’d come to like for yet another stranger, one that I almost certainly wouldn’t like at all.
From Samuel’s description of his brother, it seemed rather likely that my marriage to Winston would be a very unhappy one in which I would be subject to his constant mistreatment. Samuel had made it clear: Winston was a cruel person who enjoyed making others suffer.
Mother turned to look at me, as if she finally remembered that this concerned me. Her blue eyes were piercing. “Will there be any problems?”
What was I to say to that? My life felt like one big problem after another.
“Clara. Will there be any problems?”
I couldn’t meet her eyes as I answered: “No, Mother. May I be excused now?” I couldn’t bear to be in her presence a moment longer.
“Yes, you may. I’ll tell your father the happy news.”
As I left the room, I wondered how she could possibly say that after seeing my reaction. But then, she and I were nothing alike.
I had only one thought: to find Gertrude. I wished we could run away together and never come back.
The Gaping Void of the Future
That same afternoon, a letter arrived, but my parents didn’t find out about it. The letter was from Samuel. He’d given it to an envoy with instructions to entrust the letter only to Maggie from Norland Manor’s staff. The messenger had followed his master’s instructions explicitly and, with a little luck, he’d arrived at a time when the Count and Countess of Norland were away.
Maggie’s mother had been standing in the entryway when the horseman arrived but agreed to keep the confidence. Still, despite the fortune that surrounded the delivery of Samuel’s letter, it didn’t extend to its contents. Maggie left me alone to read it, and when she came back, she found me crying on the bed, desolate.
“What’s the matter, Milady?”
I was unable to answer her.
Apprehensively, she picked up the letter from the bed quilt.
Dearest Clara,
It is with great regret that I write you this letter. By now, you have certainly learned of the change in our fate. We will not marry in spring. In my stead, you will marry my brother.
This news saddens my heart deeply, not only because I have learned to care for you and to look forward to the life we would share together, but also because of who my brother is. I would not wish him as a husband upon my enemy. It pains me that you will have to endure the suffering that will undoubtedly come from being his wife.
As we have no decision in this matter, I relegate to prayer that this will change. I pray for a miraculous intervention that will set things right and allow you and I to unite.
I am ever so sorry, dearest Clara, and I hope that you will keep a place in your heart for me, no matter what the circumstances. You have a spot in mine that no one can replace.
Eternally yours,
Samuel
“Oh no, Clara. I’m so very sorry.” Maggie forgot all about propriety. She sat on the bed next to me and placed her hand on my back while I sobbed.
The moments passed, long and drawn out, yet I couldn’t stop crying.
I tried to move on from the anguish. I tried to pull myself out of it, but it had swallowed me whole.
I didn’t notice when Maggie got up and left the room. I still didn’t notice when she returned with Gertrude. As soon as Gertrude read the letter, she flung herself on the bed next to me and cried too.
When her tears passed, she pulled herself close to me and held me, and I couldn’t remember ever being more grateful for my sister. She remained with me in her arms until Maggie came to retrieve us for dinner.
*
“I can’t possibly come down to dinner. You’ll have to tell Mother that I’m ill.”
Maggie looked at me, still crumpled across the bed. “I understand, Milady, but you know how much the Countess dislikes it when you don’t dine with her.” I could already hear Mother’s words: A proper family should have a proper dinner.
“Are you certain that’s what you want me to tell her, Milady?”
“I’m certain.”
Not even five minutes later, Mother came to my chambers. “What’s the meaning of this, Clara? Are you truly sick? You looked well enough this morning.”
“I am sick. I can’t come down for dinner.”
“Nonsense. You’re just throwing a fit. Gertrude, go down to dinner immediately.”
Gertrude was a strong-willed eleven-year-old, but I didn’t blame her for cowering at Mother’s harsh tone. She slid off the bed, leaving Mother and me alone.
“Clara, you will go to dinner right now.”
I always obeyed or, at least, I was mindful to give the appearance of obedience. But today had been too much. In that moment, I couldn’t obligate myself to be someone I wasn’t—yet again.
I rose on the bed so that I could face Mother. I noticed her startle slightly, although she kept her implacable expression firmly in place.
The anger and sense of injustice I normally kept within boiled up and over. “No, Mother. I will not go down to dinner tonight.”
Mother gasped at the insolence. I gathered more courage than I would have thought necessary to continue. “You and Father have doomed me to a life of wretched unhappiness. Winston is a horrible boy, and he will treat me terribly. You’ve condemned your flesh and blood for selfish reasons, for enough wealth to maintain Norland Manor.”
I couldn’t be certain how terrible of a boy Winston really was. I was basing all of my impressions of him on Samuel’s opinion of his younger brother. However, Samuel and I had connected. We seemed to share a similar view on people. I suspected that I’d find his determination of Winston’s personality all too accurate.
Besides, the moment Mother told me Samuel was to marry someone else instead of me, my heart had squeezed in upon itself in anguish, and it still hadn’t released its overpowering grip on my emotions. With a heart that felt every one of my crushed hopes at a pleasant life with Samuel, there was no talking reason. I only experienced the vise-like grip of grief and agony.
Ending up with Winston seemed very much like the end of the world. It was the end of my world.
I looked Mother in the eyes, with a blazing fire in my own, and when I spoke, my words could cut through metal. “The least you can do is leave me alone for one night to grieve the loss of my future happiness.”
To my great surprise, Mother left the room without response, and I didn’t see her again for several days.
Had she not done such a good job of avoiding me, perhaps she might have done something to prevent the illness that overtook me. But by the time she realized how gravely ill I was, there was little anyone could do to help me.
Stay or Leave
“Is there anything we can do to save her, Doctor?” Father asked of Doctor Whittling.
“I’ll bleed her to drain the sickness from her body. If we’re in luck, I may still draw the illness from her before it completely consumes her. I brought leaches with me, prepared for just such an event. I’ll encourage leaches onto her and cut her as well. The faster she bleeds, the better our chances.”
This was the beginning of a long litany of experts my parents hired to see me. Doctor Whittling, the second of them, bled me out and weakened me gravely. I came perilously close to dying from his treatment.
Twice, I grasped at elusive alertness as the fever undulated, snake-like, through my consciousness. I glimpsed a moment outside of its hypnotic swirl only for that alertness to notice my spirit wavering within my body.
A single breath, a single thought or gust of wind, could extract me
fully from my shell.
But somehow I survived another day, though I don’t think it was my strength that did it. The circumstances of life dictated my fate. I didn’t choose to stay any more than I chose to leave.
I was an impartial observer. I floated in and out of awareness, each time curious, yet unconcerned, as to what was happening to me. If I died, then I died. My parents had already condemned me to a slow and gradual death as Winston’s wife.
The next doctor, a man with a few greasy strands of hair that he kept rearranging across his shiny scalp, made me drink the most horrible tinctures. Even though they made me vomit, he insisted that they would save me, so Mother ordered me to drink them from her place of safety at the threshold. In my still-feverish, frail state, my attempts at resistance accomplished nothing more than exhausting me further.
The fourth and fifth doctors did nothing innovative, but concurred with the previous expert opinions: There was neither much hope nor much time. My parents called the minister to pray over me.
The minister arrived with the sunrise and stayed all day. He left at sunset to rest so he could begin the routine anew the following day. He became a regular fixture at my bedside. His round, middle-aged belly told me he spent much of his time praying over lost causes, and his kindness told me that he believed in what he did.
The Count and Countess of Norland had their legacy to think of. Even as they anticipated my death, they approached no closer than the threshold.
I was relieved they stayed away.
That Which Was Dormant Awakens
It was on one particularly difficult afternoon, in a thick fog that made everything appear illusory, that I considered that I might just go ahead and die that day.
Then a new face showed up at my bedside. It hovered at the periphery of my consciousness like a strong feeling I couldn’t shake off.
Dark hair faded into the dark of a cape the man kept wrapped around him despite the heat of a blazing fire. Blue eyes that looked as febrile as my own examined me. His stare was sharp and penetrating. I felt bare, like I couldn’t hide anything from him, had I had the will to hide.
But even he, as captivating as he was, faded to the morass of no thought. From that place, I didn’t realize what desperation had driven my parents to do.