by Ayles, Abby
He smiled. Miss Natalie’s own smile faltered a little. “You must think me callous. But I know of no other way to comfort you. Except in making you laugh.”
“I will gladly take that,” he replied.
“If you’d rather that I wasn’t there—”
“No, no, I would like you there. If it is not a bother to you.”
“It’s far from that,” Miss Natalie assured him.
John nodded. They had to get going. They had to get home…
“Let your manservant handle it,” Miss Natalie told him gently. “Come down, I’ll have some tea brought in. It will steady your nerves while we wait for the carriage to be loaded.”
“I ought to load the thing myself,” John replied.
Miss Natalie laughed. “I would be highly entertained by that. But perhaps a time when you aren’t under such duress. Nothing more can be done right now.”
He sighed. She was right. There wasn’t anything that he could do until the carriage was loaded up. Walking around his room like a mad man was not going to help matters.
Miss Natalie could clearly see that she had won, going by the triumphant gleam in her eye. “Come on, then.”
The tea was soothing, or perhaps that was simply Miss Natalie. She carried on some light conversation and had the maid bring in a bit of food so that they all ate.
In other words, she handled it far better than he would have expected.
Emma looked as bad as John felt. She looked startled, almost, like someone had jumped out from around the corner and frightened her. She kept staring into nothing.
Miss Natalie would engage her in conversation, distracting her. Emma would be drawn in and entertained for a while before she remembered again and grew worried once more.
When the carriage arrived, John almost leapt up out of his chair. “Time to go.”
He knew he wasn’t going to be the best companion for the next day while they rode. Perhaps he should simply get a horse and ride on ahead of the others.
But how could he ride on ahead and leave Emma behind? How could he sprint onward and perhaps see Father while she had to wait in the carriage? He couldn’t just abandon her.
And for all that Miss Natalie and Miss Louisa had grown to become companions to her, he was her brother. He had a duty to remain by her side.
He sat next to her in the carriage. Emma pressed herself up against his side as though she were leeching strength off of him. “Father will be fine,” he told her, although he didn’t believe it himself.
Miss Natalie could tell that he was lying. She fixed him with a stare that he could not quite decipher. If he had to guess he would say that it was a sad but loving one. As if she were wishing that she could take his pain away from him. But Miss Natalie did not harbor such deep affection for him. His grief was making him imagine things how he wished they were.
He tried to contain how antsy he was. How eager he was to get there. He wasn’t sure how well he succeeded.
At one point Miss Natalie suggested, with warmth in her voice, that he might prefer to sit outside with the driver.
He could hear the undertone in that sentence. Perhaps you will feel better if you can help urge the horses on yourself and can breathe fresh air.
It was thoughtful of her, but he did not know how much good it would do.
On their next stop, however, Miss Natalie insisted.
“I was only partly teasing,” she told him. “Sit up with the driver. The fresh air will do you good. You’re getting cooped up in the small space of the carriage. And you may see for yourself how the horses are rushing. It will calm your nerves.”
“I do not think it will be of much help,” he replied, truthfully.
“Then indulge me,” Miss Natalie said. “Consider it a concession to your intended wife. You are indulging her odd requests.”
John sighed but nodded. If she would insist, then it was easier to go along with it than to continue to bicker. He could not muster up the energy for a proper argument right now. Furthermore, he had no wish to argue with her over such a trifle.
“Very well,” he told her.
Miss Natalie smiled. He looked forward to the day when he could touch her. Then he might draw her to him and draw strength from holding her. Then she might lay a hand on his arm and offer up comfort.
Of course, this was all for naught if she did not love him. She would not appreciate such gestures. Nor would she give them out. Her consideration was appreciated but concern for a grieving person did not mean that you loved them. It was nothing more than common courtesy.
When they all got back into the carriage for the next leg of the journey, John climbed up with the driver into the outside seat.
To his surprise, it actually did do him some good. The fresh air and open space around him calmed him. He hadn’t realized quite how stuffy and confining being inside the carriage was for him until now.
Taking in the fresh air, he felt as though he could breathe properly for the first time since he’d gotten the awful news. Seeing the countryside fly by around him helped as well. He could truly appreciate how fast they were moving and how much ground they were covering.
It amazed him that Miss Natalie should know him so well as to figure out how to help him. He was immeasurably grateful but confused by her thoughtfulness.
Her thoughtfulness suggested that she was paying attention to him. A great deal of attention if she was able to understand him so well. She understood how he had been feeling better than he himself had.
But why would Miss Natalie waste so much time and attention upon him?
Surely that would have to mean that she cared about him. But…he dared not think such a thing.
Perhaps it was merely a part of her growing generosity of spirit. He had seen great strides from her. This was most likely just a part of that.
But how he wished that it meant that she cared for him. The one part about being outside that he did not like was that he was no longer subject to Miss Natalie’s kind, warm eyes and small heartfelt smile.
It was all merely in sympathy for him over his father of course. But he could pretend that it was more. And he basked in them.
In front of Miss Natalie, he didn’t have to be strong. He had to be for Emma and Edward. He had to be the big brother. The one who knew what to do and would hold their course steady.
But if a man could not be vulnerable around his wife, then with whom?
He knew that Miss Natalie was not yet his wife. He also knew that he did not truly have any connection with her. But he felt safe with her. And he had to be vulnerable around someone or he would fairly lose his mind.
Night had fallen an hour or so before they reached Mountbank. He doubted that the ladies could tell, both from being inside the carriage and their lack of familiarity. But despite the darkness what he could see from the light of the lamp immediately struck him.
The formation of the trees, the rolling hills, the few houses they passed—they were all those of home. He would know them anywhere.
The carriage fairly skidded to a halt as they pulled up. John tipped the driver generously for his trouble. The man had ridden the horses hard all day. It took skill to drive so quickly without overturning a carriage or getting a wheel stuck.
“If you enter through the servants’ quarters you shall have a good meal and a bed for the night,” John told him. “Be sure to let them know their lord sent you and you will be well taken care of.”
The driver thanked him, but John was already moving to help the ladies out.
Emma was first. Her face was almost white in the lamplight. “Go on up to him, I shall be there in a moment.”
Miss Natalie emerged next. He had to take her hands to help her out of the carriage. He could not help but squeeze them slightly. Miss Natalie squeezed back, her blue eyes warm and reassuring.
“My sister and I shall manage ourselves quite nicely,” she told him. “Go to him.”
“But—”
“I thi
nk I must learn how to manage the servants here anyway,” Miss Natalie teased. “If this is to be my home then I must find my own way around it. Go on. Do not trouble yourself about me.”
He wanted to protest that it was impossible for him to not trouble himself about her. It felt as though his every other thought was about her. It was as impossible to not worry about her as it was to not require food or sleep.
But this was not the time for such romantic declarations. Even if Miss Natalie would have welcomed such declarations.
“Thank you,” was all that he said. All that was appropriate to say.
Miss Natalie smiled at him. “It will be all right,” she promised him.
He wished that he could believe her.
Chapter 33
Natalie watched as Lord Ridgecleff hurried into the house.
It felt as though her heart was going with him. She wished that she could join him. Sit with him. But it was not her place.
She could see the gratefulness in his eyes. It tried to trick her. Not on any fault of his, of course. It was her own foolish heart.
It tried to tell her that he truly cared about her when all that he felt was understandable gratitude. Lord Ridgecleff was gripped by fear for his father. Of course he would lap up and welcome any support that he received.
No, this wasn’t about her right now. This wasn’t about false hope. This was about doing whatever she could to help Lord Ridgecleff.
“We ought to go up to bed,” Louisa said.
Natalie shook her head. There was no way that she was going to go to sleep while Lord Ridgecleff was going to be up. He might need her. She didn’t know how. He might not want her at all. But she would rather be awake and have Lord Ridgecleff not need her than the other way around.
“You cannot possibly stay up,” Louisa replied.
“I have stayed up until many an early hour at a ball,” Natalie replied. “Why should I not do the same now?”
“You will have nothing to do but sit,” Louisa warned.
“Then I shall sit.”
Natalie squared her shoulders and Louisa sighed, wilting before the determination she saw in her sister’s eyes. “Very well. If you insist. But I am going to bed.”
Louisa gave her a small, fond smile. “I do love you and you are my sister but I’m afraid my affection does not extend to staying up all hours struggling to keep awake.”
“No, you should go to bed,” Natalie replied. “There is no point in you staying up. You ought to get some rest.”
“You need rest as well.”
“But I might be needed. I see no reason why you will be.”
“I see no reason why you should be needed either,” Louisa pointed out.
Natalie could not fully articulate it herself. All she knew was how Lord Ridgecleff had been the entire drive home. It had been as though the carriage was a prison to him.
She wanted to be readily available. Just in case.
The servants helped to carry up the luggage and Natalie settled herself in the library. She had a fire drawn up and some tea brought. She did feel bad about that bit, except the servants assured her they were already awake. They were expecting the master’s son and daughter back home at any time and half of them were up taking care of the master in any case.
Natalie sat herself down on one of the chairs. She had a bit of tea and some cold food to refresh her. She had a warm fire.
Now what to do?
She looked around. Well, she was in a library after all.
It was always difficult when reading to Lord Ridgecleff. Not that she was illiterate. But if she had never read the book before she could be tripped up by the words that were coming.
Perhaps if she read one or two that she would later read to him she would be better prepared. She could make the story sound better that way.
Natalie picked a couple of books off the shelf and settled down to read.
It wasn’t…her favorite pastime. She would choose dancing or a game of cards over reading, any day. But she had grown to not detest it as she once had. She kept finding things she wanted to read aloud to Lord Ridgecleff.
She found a throw that she tucked over herself to add some more warmth. The book was a bit interesting, but she found herself struggling to keep her eyes open.
Funny, wasn’t it, how traveling made one so tired. She hadn’t done anything except sit. Yet she felt exhausted.
It was just from worrying about Lord Ridgecleff and Miss Ridgecleff all day. That was all. She simply had to push through it.
As she continued to read, however, she couldn’t keep her eyelids from feeling heavy…
She ended up curled up, asleep, in front of the fire, the book still open in her lap.
Chapter 34
John hurried up to his father’s bedroom. He took the steps two at a time, not caring that it was undignified.
Emma was right behind him, her hands full of her skirt as she held it up so that she might move quickly. They said not a word to one another as they moved. John felt as though the entire household was holding its breath.
Edward was there when they entered the room. John felt no shame in hugging his brother. Poor Edward looked a wreck. He was pale, like Emma, with heavy circles under his red-rimmed eyes.
“How is he?” Emma asked, embracing Edward after John had pulled away. “Is he asleep?”
Edward nodded. “For now. He sleeps badly, lightly, only in fits and starts. The fever takes much strength from him.”
“What happened?” John asked.
Emma was already moving towards the bed. She sat down on the chair beside it. The chair, John was guessing, had been where Edward had been sitting all this time.
John looked at his brother. Edward sighed. “You know now that he has been ill for some time.”
John nodded. “Yes. He would not speak of it much to me. Insisted that he was fine. That I shouldn’t worry.”
“I think that he liked to tell himself that as well.” Edward looked over at where their father rested on the bed. “But there was a reason he called you back here.”
He looked back at John. “It’s partially simply failing health in general, the doctor said. Father’s old. His body has a hard time dealing with things now. He caught a chill some months back and I think that was the beginning of the end.
“This…I’m not sure. Perhaps it is something that has been quietly eating away at him and has now decided to rear its head.
“But in any case, he collapsed just yesterday. I fetched the doctor at once and had him brought to bed. Then I sent the letter for you.”
“I appreciate it.” There was nowhere else that John would rather be in such a circumstance.
“I feared that it would be too late by the time you returned home. He was quite feverish. I stayed with him the entire time.”
“You look exhausted,” John commented. “You should rest.”
Edward shook his head. “I should not like to risk it.”
“I will have you sent for if the final moments draw near. But you will collapse where you stand if you do not get some proper sleep.”
His brother had been up for nearly an entire day. Goodness even knew if he’d eaten during that time. The last thing John wanted was to finish worrying about his father only to have his brother then fall ill because he refused to take care of himself.
Edward maintained his stubborn look for a moment, then sighed. His shoulders slumped. “Very well. I shall retire to bed. But you will get me the moment that things seem to be taking a turn for the worst.”
“Of course. You have my word.”
John opened the door and made sure that Edward was actually heading down the hall to his room.
He then approached the bed.
Father was lying there quite still. It was awful to see him like that. Each breath seemed to be labored. He looked nothing like the powerful man that John had grown up with. The man with whom he had fought near-constantly.
John took a chair and p
ulled it up to the other side of the bed. Emma was still sitting, watching him breathe.
“You know it’s quite silly of me,” she whispered, “but when I was a child I thought that he should never die.
“Mother had died, of course, but Mother was so sweet. You remember. Father was so tough. It felt like his control over this estate was absolute.”
“It certainly did,” John said, smiling to remember. He had once thought his father was a king, when he was very little. It was just the way that Father carried himself.
“I thought that nobody that strong could ever die,” Emma said. “It just seemed not in their nature. Other people would give in. But not Father.”
She gave a kind of bittersweet huff of laughter. “I thought, if death were to come for him, he would turn away from it. Tell it to shoo and that it ought to have made an appointment.”
John could not help but laugh a little himself at the thought. It really did seem like something that Father would do. Demand that death make an appointment and chastise death for its lack of manners and impertinence.
Emma quickly dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Of course, it’s silly. And I haven’t truly thought that for some time. But still it seems a shock.”
She took a deep breath, and when she next spoke, her voice was shaky. “I thought that he should at least live until I was married. Until I had a grandchild or two to give him.”
“I thought so as well,” John admitted.
He paused, thinking of his regrets.
“Emma…I wish to apologize.”
Emma looked up at him, startled. “What for?”
“For leaving you all for so long.” John forced himself to look her in the eye although shame made him want to turn away. “I had a quarrel with Father. It is true. But that led me to abandon my duties here and to abandon you and Edward as well. That was not fair to either of you.”
“You needed time to find yourself and to explore the world. It is understandable. Many young men do so.”
“But I left many things unsaid. I never specified when I would return. I did not write you as often as I should. And I…I let my pride keep me away. I should have sought reconciliation with Father. It should not have taken an ultimatum to bring me home.”