Price of Privilege

by Jessica Dotta

  Henry and Edward met with near animosity. Heads bent, they began a heated discussion. A harrowing uncertainty filled me as I watched.

  “What do you suppose?” Mr. Addams asked quietly.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what catastrophe warranted the groom and the best man tearing through the countryside looking for the vicar less than two hours before the wedding. I glanced at the cottage, glad the turn in the lane would keep Elizabeth from viewing the brothers. Every muscle in Edward’s body was taut. Their muffled tones carried notes of anger, but it was Edward who looked truly dangerous.

  Dread coiled through me as I picked up my skirts and sprinted toward them. The first words I made out were Edward’s. “Do not,” his strained voice choked out. “Do not ask that of us, Henry!”

  “Be reasonable,” Henry pleaded, then, noting my arrival, greeted me with a slight nod.

  “I am the reasonable one!”

  “Ed, please!” Henry attempted to touch his brother’s arm.

  Edward’s face grew feral as he threw it off. “Touch me again, and we both leave now! So help me, Henry, I mean it.”

  Behind me, I heard Mr. Addams’s footsteps stop some distance away.

  Henry held up his hands. “Be fair. We sent the curate home last night. Please try to understand this.”

  “I understand.” Edward’s voice was tight. “You would have me deny my own flesh, my own wife.”

  Henry’s nostrils flared as he threw his hands up in exasperation.

  Eyes wide, I approached. “What’s happening?”

  “Yes, tell her, Henry.” Edward’s tone was antagonistic. “If this is nothing but a bit of char work that someone must do, let’s see if you’re beastly enough to voice it.”

  A slight hitch in Henry’s breathing as he stared at Edward was the only indicant his anger was beginning to match his brother’s. Of the two, he was more likely to remember to size up his opponent before tackling him.

  “Henry,” I pleaded, sensing this argument was far different from their others. “Whatever it is, it’s all right. Just tell me.” Then, glancing at Edward, “I swear, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters,” Edward countered.

  “Why don’t we allow her to decide.” Henry angled himself forward.

  “Because you know as well as I do why she’ll concede.” Edward’s granite voice wedged between us. “This is my last warning that I’ll not tolerate this.”

  Henry’s chest heaved as he glared.

  A sheet of cold rained over my body. Until that hour, I believed our foursome unbreakable, but I now saw it was a soap bubble, quivering, ready to burst at the slightest touch. The thought spurred me to action.

  “It’s all right,” I whispered to Edward, stepping between him and Henry. With cool fingers, I reached up and touched one side of Edward’s face, wooing him to look at me. Borrowing Isaac’s polished expression and tone, I met his angry gaze, willing every bone in my body to communicate that I was genteel—as noble as Isaac, a lady in my own right, capable, calm, otherworldly. That whatever had him this out of sorts regarding me was unnecessary.

  To my astonishment, it mellowed Edward immediately, and just as Lady Beatrice had once shrunk from Isaac’s gaze, Edward drew a ragged breath and backed down from his protective stance. His face knit in grief as he moved several steps away, eschewing further eye contact. He gave us his back, where I felt certain he struggled to compose himself.

  I willed my movements to remain cultured as I turned and fixed my tranquil gaze on Henry. I took care to appear serene and devoid of emotion. But in truth, fear and anguish undulated through me, further enhanced by the realization that if I could appear this unaffected while emotions raged within, what roiling turmoil might have been concealed beneath Isaac’s mask?

  Had I transformed into Queen Mab, Henry could not have looked more staggered. His eyes grew round, but before he could speak, I placed a finger over my lips, warning him to wait until Edward had recovered.

  Henry, however, always refused instructions. “I’m sorry, Juls, but here’s the short of it. I told my parents this morning about you and Ed, you know, to prepare them in advance. Only it didn’t go as planned.”

  “Have any of your schemes?” Edward demanded.

  “My parents somehow knew that your father was Lord Pierson and want to distance themselves from all knowledge about you,” Henry continued, ignoring him. “And if you’re in attendance at the wedding, my parents refuse to come.”

  And Edward won’t participate in anything where I’ve been shunned, I mentally finished.

  Edward faced us again. “Tell the whole truth. It’s not only today. They refuse to ever meet you. Today sets the precedent, and by allowing them to shun her, you’re accepting it! You’re taking their side!”

  I struggled to maintain a placid expression. Not trusting my voice to manage the ruse, I focused on Henry, wearing the bland yet patient expression I’d seen time and again on Isaac’s face. It was the one that invited the other person to expound.

  “I know it’s rotten.” Henry’s voice was low. “But if my parents refuse to be there, it means there’ll be no father at the wedding.”

  An odd but familiar anguish crossed my soul. My throat thickened as I tried to manage the distress that his words stirred. What Henry was asking was painful but made sense. Lord Auburn was the only father Elizabeth would ever know. Like as not, she’d expressed her excitement to Henry about their relationship, and he now felt it was his duty to ensure it blossomed.

  As penance to Isaac, I played his part to the hilt, allowing no emotion to ripple over my features, yet there was unending heartache within. Was it only months ago I’d practiced curtsying before a mirror, envisioning that my new position as Lord Pierson’s daughter would gain Lord Auburn’s approval? To keep from showing unhappiness, I clasped my hands and squeezed until my fingers smarted. Apparently I was destined never to love stepfather, father, nor father-in-law.

  “Please?” Henry laid his gloved hand on my shoulder. “For me?”

  I crumpled inside, knowing I had no real choice. No one could force Lord Auburn to accept me. How could I not be the one to forbear?

  To plead that this event was more precious to me than they could guess—that outside of our foursome I had no family—would make me sound gluttonous. After all, my own actions brought about these horrible circumstances.

  Yet I ached in an unexplored region of my soul, whose pang kept expanding with no terminus in view. I’d given another piece of my heart to something that couldn’t support it. If at the first test, the first crossroad, Henry had chosen to distance his association with me, what else loomed on the horizon?

  All at once, I felt weary and chilled.

  “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t for Elizabeth,” Henry urged.

  I tucked my arms tightly about me and glanced at Edward. He stood like a pillar of marble. The decision was solely mine.

  My throat aching, I nodded. “I’ll stay at the cottage this morning.”

  Henry exhaled a breath of relief and approached to kiss my forehead. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “Make any demand! Shall I name my firstborn son Julian?”

  I was expected to laugh or tease back by telling him to name his first girl Edwina instead, but I couldn’t move or speak.

  “I’ll perform the ceremony—” Edward’s voice was flint as he approached—“but tell our parents not to approach me. I am no longer their son. Because of this, I vow to never darken the door of Auburn Manor—”

  “Edward,” I managed in a choked whisper, looking over my shoulder.

  “Oh, that’s fine coming from you.” It was Henry’s turn to be antagonistic. “What happened to it being our duty to honor them? Or what about not making rash vows you cannot keep?”

  “Rash or not,” Edward said, his words harsh, “I assure you, Henry, I will keep this vow.”

  “So what? Does that mean you’ll never call on me or Elizabeth either?”


  Edward crossed his arms. “I didn’t insist on this; you did.”

  “Don’t.” I turned and slid my arms around his waist. “Not today. If for no other reason, for Elizabeth’s sake. She’s had no say in this.”

  But Edward did not soften. He kept his stance and glared at Henry. The pair reminded me of two bristling dogs. Henry broke away first. Keeping his mouth jutted and his eyes locked on Edward’s, he retreated a couple of steps backwards, then turned and marched silently down the carriage lane. “Come on, Dev.”

  Mr. Addams looked as though he wished to give comfort. His mouth opened and his face was sympathetic, but he only fingered his cap and tramped after Henry.

  “Edward,” I whispered, a plea for him to end this.

  “No, Juls.” Edward clamped his hands on my shoulders as the pair turned the corner to Am Meer. “He’s allowed his choices, and I’m allowed mine.”

  I looked down the now-empty lane, half-tempted to believe this wasn’t real. “And what about me? And what I want?”

  “Visit Henry and Elizabeth if you wish. Try in vain to win my parents. I’ll not stop you.” Edward’s voice was low. “But I’ll not allow my wife to be insulted and continue on as if nothing happened.”

  I placed my hand over my heart, hurting. Desperately I tried to think of what Isaac would do. Nothing came to mind. People like Isaac didn’t get themselves entangled in messes like this. Besides, it was one thing to act like him, quite another to be him.

  Within minutes, Henry and Mr. Addams rode past us. Pockets of dust kicked up beneath the hooves of their steeds.

  I turned with them as they passed. “What shall I tell Elizabeth?”

  Edward sighed as he crammed his hands in his pockets, following Henry’s dust line. “Whatever you choose. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  I wished I could feel as certain. Thus far, my past decisions had borne consequences that kept rippling out beyond anything I could have imagined. Today they’d fractured our foursome and divided my new family.

  Little could I have guessed that this was just the first swing of the splintering axe.

  OUR MOOD WAS somber as we again approached Am Meer.

  Like two monks on a pilgrimage, we trekked toward our sacred city in silence. Who could bear speech? Our merry band, our Knights Templars, had dispersed. Henry, our fearless leader, had chosen life outside our circle. My nose stung with tears I would not shed. All I could think was that on the very day our foursome should have become unbreakable, we’d shattered. I swallowed, wondering if all dreams turned to dust the moment they were nearly realized. Or if I’d been born fated to bear this painful fetter of irony.

  I marvelled that my feet did not stumble beneath me. Like those returning from the Crusades in the days of yore, they carried my weight, one heavy step at a time. I felt crushed that Henry had asked me to recuse myself from his wedding. Yet logic would not rest. For by the same token, had I not once abandoned our foursome too? How dare I expect Henry to behave better than I had? Did I not deserve this?

  And yet my mind vehemently argued back that Henry’s request must have been offensive. For I felt anguished, as if I’d come to dust, and Edward had been so affronted, he’d cut ties with his family. His anger made me wonder if I’d been wrong to agree to be left out.

  As we neared the cottage, I wrapped my shawl tightly, unable to resolve anything. Was I so blind that I needed Edward’s anger to recognize I’d been treated unjustly? Or had Henry been within his rights?

  I drew in a breath, realizing that most people didn’t seem to suffer from this malady. As a rule, Elizabeth knew exactly what she desired. Similarly, Henry would have boldly declared what he thought, whether it was offensive or not.

  My thoughts were so vast and frightening, I forced myself to focus much, much smaller. I started with the way the pebbles sounded as they crunched beneath Edward’s boots, and then expanded to the birdcalls that varied between two and three notes. Eventually the sound of frantic barking pricked my consciousness.

  I touched Edward’s arm. “Is that our dog?”

  His head jerked as he awoke from his own thoughts.

  We found our canine was at the rabbit hutch, where Hannah had cornered him with a broom. He was just small enough to fit beneath the wooden frame, where he alternately barked at Hannah and bared teeth at Harry, who was attempting to grab his hind legs. To my utter dismay, a bloodied rabbit lay between his paws.

  Edward doubled his gait and I followed.

  Hannah turned at our approach. Our faces must have communicated all she needed to know. “This your dog?”

  “It is.” Edward’s voice was iron.

  She turned and gave the dog a hard jab with the bristles of her broom. “Go on,” she ordered Harry. The dog barked harder with each shove of the broom. “Go change for the wedding. If it’s the vicar’s dog, we’ll let the high-and-mighty vicar fix his own problem.”

  Puzzled by the animosity with which she referred to Edward, I cast him a questioning glance.

  His face was livid. “Hannah!”

  Her eyes flashed as she faced him.

  “If you’re angry at me,” Edward roared, “hit me with the broom! What is the meaning of this?”

  Harry held on to the corner of the rabbit hutch as he hoisted himself up. Clumps of mud clung to his knees and elbows. He gave Edward and me a nod, then anxiously glanced at Hannah to see if he was in trouble for it. She paid him no mind.

  “Your dog killed one of our rabbits.” Hannah’s face was red as she jabbed the dog again—hard.

  “Oh, Hannah, I’m so—” I began wringing my hands.

  “What makes you so certain it’s one of your rabbits?” Edward demanded.

  Hannah swelled like a toad. “Are you daft? The evidence is right there, though it’s too late to save it.”

  “Did you count them?” Edward yelled. “Because if you’re beating an animal beneath my care, you better well have counted the rabbits inside the locked hutch before you began. Harry, count them. How many are supposed to be there?”

  Harry clutched his cloth hat, looking between Edward and Hannah, saying nothing.

  Breathing hard, Hannah turned her gaze to the rusted metal lock, which was fixed in place. The hares inside skittered back and forth, but Hannah seemed able to track them as she counted beneath her breath. Her mouth pursed as she lowered her broom and turned to Harry. “Go on with you. Change, then make sure the basket of corn to throw is at the church.”

  Edward placed a hand on his hip and glared as Harry remorsefully passed. “Hannah?”

  But Hannah did not apologize as I expected. Instead, her eyes flashed as she took in the gold bands that had once belonged to Lady Josephine and my grandfather. “So it’s true? The pair of you are calling yourselves married.”

  Edward was frightening to behold. “It is.”

  “Have you not an ounce of shame? Showing up with Mrs. Macy! Ruining your brother’s wedding and Miss ’Lizabeth’s!”

  I’d lived so long with fear of discovery that I retreated a step backwards. Edward, however, reached out and pulled me to his side with a firm grasp. “Does Mrs. Windham know you’ve taken it upon yourself to accost her guests and their dogs?”

  Hannah’s lower lip pushed out as she gave a defiant scowl.

  “I thought not!” Edward’s voice went from stern to fierce. “Have the kindness to go inform the lady of the house we’re here; then fetch Nancy. My wife and I desire a word with her.”

  “Nancy!” Hannah glowered in disbelief. “Aye, and I’ll get you an audience with an Indian raja afterwards. I can’t fetch Nancy. The girl’s long gone.”

  “Gone?” My stomach hollowed. “Where?”

  Hannah gave me her blackest look, shrugging one shoulder as if I were too low to be addressed.

  Edward’s jaw tightened. “As the vicar responsible for placing her here, I demand to know where Nancy’s gone!”

  “How should I know?”

  Edward’s nostrils
flared. “Surely you sent references.”

  “References!” Hannah’s hands tightened over the broom handle. “What would I do a thing like that for?”

  “Because it was our explicit agreement.”

  “Agreement!” Hannah’s chest puffed out. “Reverend Auburn, when you approached me about the girl, I warned you I didn’t hold with taking in rabble from the workhouse. One chance. That was the agreement. And I warrant half of the inmates would have cut off their right thumbs for that opportunity. She knew that with the first shenanigan, I’d turn her out on her ear.”

  Reminded that Nancy worked at Am Meer because of Edward’s efforts, I moved my gaze to him.

  He, however, was too roused to notice me. “And what,” he ground out, “what was the reason for dismissing her without references? You yourself said she worked twice as hard as any other maid.”

  “You know as well as I do what she did. She helped that one there flee her husband.” Here she finally faced me and unleashed her fury. “And let me tell you, missy, he was fraught with worry. Thought you had been murdered, he had. Never seen a man more shook up.” Tears choked her voice. “Had you witnessed it, ’twould have broke your heart.” She patted her chest. “It certainly tore right through mine.”

  “He is not her husband,” Edward said.

  “And Nancy just sat there,” Hannah continued over him, “as cool as you please, while he begged and pleaded for your whereabouts.” A tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. “Never in my life have I been so moved. And this—” she gestured to Edward—“this is how you treat the man who cherishes you? By taking a lover.”

  Normally I would have steeled off emotion, but I’d ingested more than I could handle, which somehow translated into my losing that particular ability. I intended to meet her eye with a cold look that carried the message that I didn’t care, but found I was unable to do more than skate over her face, feeling shamed.

  As if aware I was drowning, Edward rested his warm hand on my shoulder in a show of support.

  Hannah’s gaze followed the motion before her face gnarled. “But it’s you,” she said to Edward, her voice dropped with huskiness, “’tis you, Reverend Auburn, that crushed us. We never expected better from her ilk. But you! Here we all believed you. But in the end, you were worse than the whole string of vicars before you. For you preached a kingdom worth finding, worth dying for, and then yanked it all back from us!”