Healing Hearts (Roselund Heights Book 1)

by Miranda D Nelson

  Joanna looked around the room, searching for anything to convince herself this wasn’t happening. “But… what will I do without you?”

  Mariah scoffed. “You mean, who will you order around to do your will with me gone? I am certain you will find someone.” She held up the spencer at arm’s length, then carefully folded it and placed it gently on top of the pile of dresses in her trunk. “I wonder,” she said as she smoothed out any remaining wrinkles. “If your overbearing restraint is what motivated Father to move to London.” She laughed a short, harsh laugh. “I would not be surprised.”

  The words stabbed jagged holes in Joanna’s heart. Without another word, she turned and hastened from the room. Not even bothering to find her cloak, she hurried from the house to the Marine Parade where she stopped a few feet from the cliff’s face, waiting for the wind to soothe her. But even the salty breeze could not heal the damage her sister had done and tears bit at her eyes. She turned to the west, moving quickly along until she could make her way down to the pebbly shore. The beach was empty, the weather too cold now for outdoor bathing. She craved and resented the solitude all at once.

  Joanna stood at the base of the cliff, looking out over the ocean, her mind filled and yet empty. Even her own sister could not tolerate her. How had she not seen the hurt she was causing Mariah? Could she really be as bad as her sister had claimed?

  Joanna thought back on their disagreements the last few months, attempting to see them from Mariah’s perspective. Every time, Joanna had insisted on her own way, and most times her opinion had won.

  The more situations she thought of, the more she realized her mistake and the more guilt she felt. When she too began to wonder if her father had actually left because of her controlling attitude, the tears at last overwhelmed her and she slipped to the ground, her face buried in her arms.

  A moment later, a weight settled onto her shoulders and she lifted her head with a start to find a deep brown cloak lay across them. She looked up to see Mr. Aldridge standing beside her, his blue eyes full of compassion. Joanna’s tears were quickly replaced by embarrassment. She made to hurry to her feet, but he lay a gentle hand on her shoulder and sat down beside her.

  He said nothing, but simply gazed out over the ocean. Joanna watched him in silence for a moment before turning her own gaze to the sea, unsure of what to say or even feel. Unlike times before, the quiet between them was not uncomfortable. Several minutes passed before she spoke. “How did you know I was here?”

  He turned to her at last. “You passed me on the Marine Parade. I saw the tears in your eyes and had the impression I ought to follow after you. When you came down here, I wondered if I had better leave you to yourself.” He lowered his gaze. “However, I could tell you were distraught and could not leave you to suffer alone.” His gaze flicked to hers, but moved just as quickly to his cloak. “You looked cold.”

  She suddenly became aware of the chill in the air and her foolishness at leaving her own cloak at home. “Thank you.” She wrapped it closer around her, relishing its warmth. “Forgive me,” she said, dabbing at her eyes. “I was… overwhelmed.”

  His gaze met hers again, his expression open and consoling.

  Joanna shook her head, lowering her gaze to her hands. “My sister has just informed me that she is leaving for London in the morning to live with our father because I am too controlling.” She was surprised at her own openness, but could not retrieve the words now they had been spoken.

  “Your father lives in London?” Mr. Aldridge asked.

  “Yes, he moved there almost two years ago. Mariah and I chose to remain here, but now it seems she will leave me as well.”

  “Surely you will not be alone. Your aunt and uncle remain.”

  Joanna nodded. “Yes. They are very kind to me, but they are not as close as my immediate family has been. With my father in London, and my sister now joining him, I have no one left.”

  “And your mother?”

  Joanna bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. Her heart throbbed, yet she fought against it as she often had, willing it to be still. Once in control again, she looked up at Mr. Aldridge. His expression was too concerned, too compassionate, too knowing.

  “Has she—?” he began.

  Emotions stirred again and she could only nod.

  “I am so sorry.”

  A few tears escaped Joanna’s eyes, yet she managed to withhold the rest. After several deep breaths, she was able to speak though unable to meet her companion’s gaze. She looked instead out at the sea.

  “You asked how I knew so much about caring for someone with your symptoms and I told you I had seen them before. I had seen them in my mother. She suffered most of my life with an illness similar to yours. We came here when I was nine hoping the benefits of the sea water would aid her. She remained with us until two years ago. After that, my father moved to London as it was far too difficult for him to remain here.”

  Joanna tried to convince herself that was true and that he had not left because of her. She had never considered it a possibility before now, but she had never realized how her actions were hurting her family either.

  “I am sorry,” he said again.

  Joanna shook her head. “Near the end, we knew it would soon be coming. She was very unwell for quite some time before she passed.” Realization flitted across her mind and she finally looked at Mr. Aldridge. “Oh, I am so sorry. I did not mean to imply—”

  He raised a hand to halt her, a small smile on his lips. “Do not concern yourself, Miss Leighton. I am not afraid of death.”

  They were silent again for a time as Joanna’s mind wound around memories of her mother.

  “Please do not be offended, Miss Leighton, but why do you feel a need to be so in control of everything around you?”

  Joanna turned to him with questions in her eyes. “Do you too find me controlling?”

  He lowered his head slightly. “Again, I do not mean offense, but I have noticed a tendency in you to seek control over your surroundings.”

  Joanna looked away as a flare of anger stirred in her chest. Did everyone see this but me? A wave of embarrassment washed over her.

  He leaned forward, calling her attention back to him. “I ask in hopes of helping.”

  Joanna picked up a handful of pebbles and ran them through her fingers as she pondered. It took several moments to work through her thoughts, yet Mr. Aldridge did not seem impatient.

  “I suppose it is because of my mother. When she was ill, I cared for her and acted as mistress of the house as well. I learned at a young age the responsibility one must take in a situation like that.”

  Mr. Aldridge nodded. “When I first became ill a few years ago, I felt a complete loss of control in my life. I was used to living a certain way and suddenly my life was unpredictable. I am never certain when the pains will come again, how severe they may be, or how long they might last. It is a terrible way to live.”

  While she had not personally experienced the pain, she understood the anticipation of waiting for it to happen again. Her heart reached out to him in sympathy.

  “Losing such control of that part of my life led me to seek it in other aspects of my life, which I did in abundance.” He shook his head. “It affected me in more ways than you might think and drove others away from me too. I had to learn that sometimes it is best to relinquish your control and let others take it for you.”

  Joanna fought against tears yet again. “You think that, because I had no control and could not help my mother, perhaps that is why I seek control over everything else?”

  He nodded but said, “I think your sense of control goes far deeper. Just in the time we have sat here, I have seen you fight for control over your emotions on several occasions.”

  “Do you find it inappropriate for me to seek to control my emotions?”

  “A certain amount of control is perfectly acceptable. But if I may be so bold, I believe you are restraining emotions that are natural and just. Emoti
ons of sadness for your mother’s passing, the pain of losing her, and essentially, your father. It seems as though you have not allowed yourself to grieve at all.”

  His clear insight and understanding left her unnerved and overwhelmed. Joanna had not cried since her mother’s death. When she met his gaze, the kindness she saw there forced her emotions nearer the surface than she had ever let them venture.

  “Relinquish your control, Miss Leighton,” he said softly.

  Something within her shattered and Joanna turned away as the emotions she had held in check for months overflowed and her body shook with sobs. Mr. Aldridge pressed his handkerchief into her hand and she took it, pressing it to her eyes. Part of her mind begged for comfort and wished he would wrap his arms around her as he had his cloak. She knew he would not, and so instead, she pulled his cloak tighter around her.

  “Are you still cold?” Even the tone of his voice held compassion, and though she felt she was providing a more than embarrassing display, she sensed he was not offended.

  Joanna shook her head, taking one slow breath after another. It would not do to continue in this manner, she had to regain control. Though she still felt broken, her tears lessened. She stole a glance at Mr. Aldridge, wondering how he would react to her sudden outburst. She was surprised to see him looking out at the sea, his expression calm, his hands clasped tightly together.

  She turned her gaze in the same direction and realized the sun had begun to lower in the sky.

  “I ought to go home,” she murmured.

  When he stood and reached for her hands she hesitated, her instinct telling her to rise on her own. Yet her instinct was what had led to pushing away Mariah and perhaps even her father. Her instincts clearly needed to change. She laid her hands in his and he pulled her easily to her feet. His strength impressed her, for she knew he had been so very ill not long ago. He held her hands for a moment longer than necessary before releasing her, and she instantly missed the feel of his hands in hers as there was a comfort there that she had not anticipated.

  Joanna dabbed at the last of her tears and handed the handkerchief back to him.

  “Are you certain you’re finished with it?” The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.

  Joanna laughed a tearful laugh. “Yes, thank you. And I’m sorry.”

  “For?”

  Joanna motioned toward the ground where she had just sat, a miserable, sobbing mess. “For that pitiful display, of course.” She lowered her gaze to the pebbles beneath her feet. “It was wholly inappropriate.”

  He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met. He pulled his finger away quickly and lowered his hand to his side, rubbing the finger with his thumb.

  “Miss Leighton, please do not feel ashamed. I coaxed you into it after all.”

  Her skin tingled where his finger had been and she resisted the urge to touch the spot. “Still… to lose control like that…” her voice trailed off.

  He shook his head, silencing her objection. “It is part of healing. I hope it helps you.”

  Though unable to think of a response, she was grateful for his kindness. She began to remove his cloak from her shoulders.

  He placed his hand lightly on her arm. “If you will allow me to walk with you, you may wear it until we reach your home.”

  Joanna smiled as best she could though the effect, she was certain, was rather miserable. They walked back to the Marine Parade and down the short distance to Crescent Street. The thought crossed her mind that many would find it improper for her to be in public wearing a cloak belonging to a man to whom she was not related or married to, but Joanna did not care. Her thoughts were too involved on the chaos of her emotions. Upon reaching her home, she slipped the cloak from her shoulders before handing it back to Mr. Aldridge.

  “Thank you again, sir, for your kindness.”

  A new emotion crept into his expression, one she could not name. “I hope you always know you have a friend nearby, Miss Leighton.” The compassion in his eyes sent her collected emotions slipping from her control again.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Good night.” In one swift motion, she curtsied and turned before entering her house and closing the door behind her.

  She leaned against it, breathing deeply in an attempt to bury the surge of emotions that welled up inside. She had only just begun to feel in control again when Mariah came down the stairs.

  “You are back. I wondered where you had gone off to. Are you coming to dinner?”

  The callous tone of her voice nearly caused Joanna to lose control again, but she held firm. “Mariah, can’t we talk about your moving to London?”

  “There is nothing to talk about, Joanna. I am leaving.” She turned and walked away toward the dining room.

  “Please, Mariah,” Joanna called after her, stretching an arm toward her sister in an effort to plead with her.

  Mariah turned, one eyebrow arched.

  “Please, let me have another chance.” Joanna felt tears coming again. She whispered, “Please do not leave me here alone,” before her emotions overwhelmed her again and she slid to the floor in tears.

  “Joanna,” Mariah said, the impatience evident in her voice.

  Joanna wrapped her arms around herself, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes. It frightened her that she could not control her emotions. She had excelled at it for so long, but all her practice seemed to be for nothing.

  “Joanna?” Mariah’s voice was tentative. A moment later, Joanna felt Mariah kneel beside her. “Joanna, what is the matter? I have never seen you like this.”

  The tears would not stop falling and her heart would not stop throbbing. Mariah’s hand rubbed circles on her back. She felt like a small child again and was startled to realize that was likely when she had last let her emotions run so freely. At last she felt able to speak.

  “I am so sorry, Mariah. I did not realize the pain I was causing you, the control I was forcing you to live under.” Joanna met her gaze. “You have grown into a woman and I have not seen that. You need your independence.”

  Mariah smiled. “Thank you, but surely all these tears are not only because of our problems. What else troubles you?” There was genuine concern in her voice.

  Knowing that Mariah still cared filled Joanna’s heart with gratitude. She wiped at her eyes for seemingly the umpteenth time this evening.

  “You are not the only one suffering from my overbearing ways. I too have silently suffered. I have felt such a need to repress my emotions that I never felt free to express them. Now that I have, it seems I cannot stay them.” Joanna met Mariah’s gaze again. “Not that it excuses my actions toward you.” She inhaled deeply. “If you truly feel you must go, I will not attempt to hold you back, but if you give me another chance… Mariah, I am certain I can do better. Please let me show you I can be a better sister?”

  Mariah looked at her a long time, then looked away, clearly considering. Joanna remained silent, knowing her sister’s decision must be her own. Mariah looked at the painting on the wall, then back at her.

  “If you allow me to remove that painting, and will truly honor my opinion in the future as well as your own, then I will stay. I am not asking you to abdicate all control over our home for I know as eldest, the home is your responsibility, but I will require you to compromise with me.”

  Joanna gazed at the painting, longing tugging at her broken heart. It truly was terrible, but it was the last painting their mother had painted even though her illness had been quite intense. Joanna had kept it there as a remembrance of her mother, here in the foyer where she could see it each day. However, Mariah was right. It could be placed elsewhere and continue to act as a reminder of her mother.

  In answer, Joanna stood and crossed to the painting. She took it from the wall, then turned to see Mariah smiling at her.

  “Thank you, Joanna.”

  “I have a proposal.”

  Mariah raised her brows.

  �
��Would you agree that Mr. Aldridge’s painting would look far better here than Mother’s?”

  Mariah laughed. “I would indeed. I like that thought very much.”

  Joanna nodded. It was only a small start, but they had reached a compromise. It would take a great deal more effort on her part to make Mariah want to stay, but she would do whatever she needed to do for that to happen.

  Joanna was on the misty beach again, the vague figure ahead of her disappearing into the fog. The urgent need to be with that person returned. She ran, splashing through the water as the waves rushed onto the wet sand, unable to gain any ground on the figure. She fell, exhausted and gasping for air as the cold water lapped around her, and watched as the figure faded into nothingness.

  Joanna awoke slowly, the dream easing from around her like a wave leaving the shore. Sunlight streamed through her window, but she turned from its warming glow. The ache of sadness clung to her and she realized she was crying again. Two days had passed since that miserable afternoon at the beach. Yet she had not regained control over her emotions. On many instances and without warning, her eyes had begun to fill with tears and sobs would wrack her body. It was often several minutes before she was able to calm herself. It was so severe that she’d not even left the house. The threat of embarrassment of losing control in the presence of other company was too great to risk.

  However, she could not imagine spending another day alone in her room. By the time she was dressed and had eaten breakfast, it was late morning. Though it was far too early to call on most anyone, it was not too early to call on Edith. Joanna hurried through the streets of Roselund Heights, carefully avoiding anyone’s gaze. She felt as if everyone she passed knew of her inner turmoil and she was embarrassed just to be seen. Never had she felt so much relief in reaching Edith’s home.

  When the butler answered her knock, he greeted her with a bow. “Good morning, Miss Leighton.”

  “Hello, Stevens. Is Edith in her room?”

  “She is in the drawing room, ma’am.” He motioned in the direction, but Joanna had been there often enough she did not require a formal introduction.