by GinaRJ
There were a few days she stayed in her chambers, receiving nobody, requesting to be left alone. Jacob respected this. Except on one particular day he did make an entrance, greeting her with a rather sad countenance. She was sitting on the settee and would have stood. He stopped her, taking the spot beside of her, and with an arm around her shoulders hugged her to him.
“You have been troubled,” he said, and she said nothing. He suddenly stood, placing his hands behind his back, and paced a few steps.
“My initial thought was that you may be with child.”
She shook her head. “No, I am not.”
“I realize that. So I have narrowed this depressed mood of yours down to one single, solitaire cause.”
She did not look up. His words and the possibility behind them put a heavy, sinking dread in the pits of her stomach.
“I know what troubles you,” he said, and stopped to gaze down at her.
“You do,” she said, unable to look at him any longer.
“And while the very idea of it disturbs me, I can no longer ignore it.”
She too stood and would have begun explaining herself. Just how exactly would she explain? He stopped her, placing his hands to her shoulders which he squeezed in a most comforting manner. “I have thought it over these past two weeks or so, waiting for you to bring it to light on your own. Since you haven’t, I doubt you will at all. But despite my own reluctance—and I know I would miss you terribly—I think it time you set off for Westerly and visit your friends and sisters.”
She searched his eyes. He grinned thoughtfully. “I know you miss them. It would be selfish of me to keep you here without even an offer to go see them.”
“You mean…“ Her gaze skipped from left to right before settling again with his. She felt very relieved, because for a horrible space of time she’d thought he would blame her mood on Marcus.
“Yes.” He pulled her close and held her. “You should accept. After all, you have known the place and its people all your life. It’s only logical you would miss them, and that you should see them again.”
He pulled her away and she smiled at him. “You’re too gracious.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I will arrange to have you escorted. Messages will be sent ahead of time to the nobles along that way so that you will have places to settle here and there during the night. I will appoint plenty of guards over you, and you may take your handmaidens. But if you fail to return, it will mean death to those in whose hands I’ve entrusted you.”
She laughed. He did, too, and they embraced.
“See there.” He tilted her chin. “Already you are brought back to life.”
He caressed her hair, and she leaned into him and kissed him. Later in his bed they made love. They made love as if they had never made love before.
******
The trip was quickly arranged. Dozens of guards were assembled and instructed. Tilly and Zaria had packed their belongings and would ride in a separate carriage. The morning she was to leave she said farewell to her husband, who was himself about to venture out to Port Templeton for a matter he didn’t bother discussing. They embraced, kissed, embraced and kissed again. He left fluently, as if fearing he would otherwise not leave at all, or maybe even persuade her to stay.
At the ninth hour she was escorted by Marty, also to join them, to a carriage awaiting her in the courtyard. Her steps slowed and she frowned upon the sight of Marcus hoisted upon a tall dark stallion, dressed in full attire of a guard.
Her feet halted dead in their tracks as she stopped to peer hatefully up at him. “What are you doing?” She instantly demanded.
He kept his horse still while it appeared ready to take off without warning. “Seeing to it you are properly transferred, milady” he replied, a sarcastic edge to his voice.
”I certainly hope you are merely referring to this transferal…from the palace to the carriage,” she added, paying little mind to Marty who simply observed them, some curious and elusive expression upon his face.
“It did not cross your mind he would request my services during this venture; that I go and see to it you have a safe journey? I am his most faithful subject and friend.”
“You were gone to the Commons,” she recalled.
“I returned,” he simply announced.
“When?”
“The important thing, milady, is that you have a safe journey, a safe visit, and an even safer return.”
Her chest rose and fell. She glanced at Marty and then the driver who stood holding the door opened for her. She got inside, completely exasperated by Marcus’s involvement with her travels. The carriage soon after moved onward, and after having left the city, the guards on their horses all took their positions before, behind and to each side of her carriage. It would be a long journey, she recalled. Two weeks.
They would make several stops; Some at the palaces and castles of other nobles who’d been notified of her travels, and in Iris, a place she had appreciated and wanted to stay at least one night.
A message had also been sent to the residents of Westerly. They would know to expect her even down to the day. A messenger from their convoy would ride ahead of them the day prior the arrival so as to announce an even more precise arrival time. Seeing as to how she had received no letters, she was not sure what to expect. What would the reaction of the people be to this new title and the forsaking of the old one?
The second night of their travels they stopped at Harlinger Castle where the duke and duchess happily welcomed her. It was a pleasant little reunion, for they had attended not only the announcement of her and Jacob’s engagement, but the actual wedding as well, and also the event she’d perpetuated for the sake of the poor.
She spent a couple of hours with the duchess, sipping tea and discussing the outcome of the event which had been nothing short a huge success. The duchess of Harlinger was quite charming, an excellent hostess. The servants continually offered wine and tea and pastries, and she was assigned the best quarters in the castle. The castle staff was equally pleased to have her there.
Aside from this stay and one outside of Harvard Plains and Gnovis, the most intriguing of all was with the duke and duchess of Tarot. She was pleased to arrive there earlier in the day as she was anxious to spend more time with the duchess. As usual, she was a delight to be around; solemn, yes, but she did actually manage to smile a bit on this occasion.
The palace, one of the oldest in all New Ebony, was nearly as extraordinary as that of the Great City, but not quite as large. The duchess was pleased to give her a tour while a barrage of guards and handmaidens followed behind. They dined together alone…well, except for the guards. Just as with any lady, they were never left completely alone, only in the comforts of their private chambers. Not that Rachel hadn’t found a rare opportunity to be alone at home. It’d become easier done with the passing of time…she could even persuade Nicholas and Caleb and the maidens to simply leave her be. Of course she knew Caleb and Nicholas either one were never far away.
The trip was an overall success.
She felt a bit nervous as the distance shortened, and especially as she realized she was only minutes away from entering Westerly.
She wanted to see up ahead, but could not…only after the stagecoach had come near the town. For some reason, the caravan had come to a complete stop—guards and all. She wondered why. Marcus rode up to the window, which she opened to ask, “What’s wrong? What is it?”
“It seems you’ve stirred up quite a crowd, milady,” he said with a very serious and professional tone of voice.
“What…?” She went no further, but reached for the door handle, pushing the door open. Marcus guided his horse away a few paces, giving her room to exit and to see for herself what the holdup was all about.
She could hardly believe her eyes, for so far as she could see there were people. Lots and lots of people, and standing ahead of them all, the most admired person of all. Sister Agatha.
Sm
iling big, almost laughing, she took hold of her skirts, lifting them from the ground, and began making her way toward the elder and her companions. Soon she was almost running, her eyes skipping about each smiling, thoughtful and happy face.
Yes, these were her dearest friends. And she had worried in vain. They did not despise her. They would not reject her. Of course not. The entire town, even more people than she recalled or imagined, had gathered outside the town to greet her.
It was a remarkable reunion.
She and Agatha embraced, the elder squeezing her close, pulling her away and then squeezing her again. Her aged, wrinkled face glowed while her old grey eyes welled up with tears.
“Oh, my child,” her old voice cracked. “I was certain I would never see you again.”
“Oh, Agatha, surely you knew I would…” She stopped, hugging her small, frail shoulders again. Her own eyes welled up with tears.
“I was certain you had abandoned us for good. But then it all made sense. The money and the deed. It all made sense.”
“Then you are not disappointed in me,” she happily realized.
“Disappointed?” Blinking her tears away, she turned Rachel about so that they together faced the crowd. “Do any of us look disappointed, child?”
She shook her head, almost crying, feeling like running to every single person and embracing each one of them. There would be plenty time to visit them individually. She could stay as long as she wanted, and she decided then and there that she would, indeed, stay a while.
******
The change had been and was completely accepted. The entire town celebrated her return. She couldn’t say she’d ever saw the people happier. Festivities planned in her honor were to begin the following day. It was now close to evening, and it often said how tired she “must be from” her journey. Yes, she was. But unlike before, she’d had plenty places to stop and spend an evening, in some cases much of the day and evening, such as with the duchess of Tarot,
She hardly had room to breathe, for she was surrounded by people, and one by one everyone she remembered welcomed her with tight embraces. Young and old alike, sick and healthy…she was greeted with huge smiles and piercing words of commendation. The money achieved by her hand was declared; the deed and the additions to the land…the changes they’d made and were making. The people had not wasted any time. She could see for herself. New structures had already been erected, although she couldn’t be sure what they were upon first sight. Old ones had been restored to their former glory. The town was growing for certain.
Agatha was finally the one to shoo them all away, and to take a ride with her in the carriage. You would’ve thought the elder had done this many times before. She suddenly seemed so cultured.
Once inside, Rachel’s smile faded and she thought out loud, “Where are my sisters?”
“They are awaiting you, child, at my place. There you shall stay. I will have it no other way.”
Who was she to argue, although she did think about her small room adjacent the chapel and how she would like to stay at least one night there.
As said, her sisters were awaiting her, and with lots of hugs.
“Sorry I did not meet you outside the town with everyone else,” said one. And then the other, “When we realized what a crowd would gather we did not want to be caught in it.”
She hugged them both, and they held her at length, inspecting her appearance which was certainly a strange sight in Westerly.
She spent the first two days taking part in a celebration. The citizens when it came to anything major always celebrated outdoors, and only during times of celebration would they put off the usual chores or customs.
She could not recall having enjoyed herself so much. She laughed heartily. Tilly stood beside of her, passing cups of wine in secret…well, it should have been secret, but she was certain the elder, Agatha, knew exactly what she was doing. Zaria kept disappearing…probably to seduce some young man, she decided. Marcus was present from afar, so it was not likely him.
The music was entertaining. The dancing entertaining. The communication was all the more cherished than she’d ever even known. She was often approached by men and women who brought back to mind the situations they’d been in, and seemed bent upon letting her know how things had worked out just right.
Following this, she spent several days catching up with her friends and her sisters, and a few taking a tour of the lands, the extensions and what’d been accomplished with them. Marcus was forever at a distance, sitting astride his horse and watching her every move. Despite the tension between them, they only had one spat during the entire visit.
She had heard some sort of commotion while sitting with Agatha in her small and pitiful but cozy home having tea. While Agatha merely turned in her seat, Rachel leapt from hers to see what was going on from outside the window. She pulled the curtain aside to find two men. They were twins and she recognized them. There was some sort of quarrel between them and Marcus whom, for the first time she could see, had actually dismounted his horse.
Rachel came out the door, peering from one to another and then finally Marcus. “What’s this commotion about?”
“We needed to speak to you, Sister Rachel, but he will not let us.”
She peered at Marcus, whose eyes were hard just as they had been since leaving the Great City. “And why is that?” She looked about. “Where is Marty?”
“Guarding the back door which has been equally as hard to keep these people from.”
She barely shook her head. “Keep these people…what are you talking about?”
“If anyone needs to speak with you, milady, they may do so out in the open.”
“These people are my friends,” she madly returned to him. “And you haven’t a right to turn them away from me.”
“The doors of whatever place you occupy will be guarded so long as you are here, and the people kept away from them. If so many wish to speak with you about their matters, they may do so in a public place.”
It was their only confrontation. And such a meeting was set up. She wrote a letter and sent it away with a young lad who seemed eager to go about from place to place reading it.
As for Marcus…he and Marty and one other guard named Andrew stayed directly in town. There were places to sleep. The other guards had taken off to the Isles under the instruction of Marcus. The town was too small for them, and the people felt a bit intimidated by their attendance, so he sent most of them away.
Recalling Marcus’s visit from before, he, too, was well received, especially by Agatha after she had recognized him.
“Come down from there, now,” she would coax upon seeing him every single time in some short distance hoisted upon his steed. It was days after their actual arrival when she recognized him at all. Then again, her sight wasn’t what it once was. “Come down from there, now,” she would command as if speaking to a child. “Come inside and eat with us.”
Rachel was thankful to Marcus for turning down the many invites to dine with or accompany them or simply sit and chat. “He is such a dashing man,” the elder recalled. “And the way he came into Westerly with your gifts, and kind as kind could be. Five days he stayed. If not for him I don’t think the mayor would have had a clue what to do with the money or the land. But he sent people too who could help guide him and, well, and all of us.”
“What people?” She prodded.
“Oh, nice ones. The guards we don’t see much of them, but they are decent young men, and two fine gentlemen…Percy and Jonas. Fine, fine, fine men.”
“Who are these?”
“I couldn’t say for sure what you would call them, dear, but they are good with figures and such.”
She considered these two men. Marcus hadn’t mentioned them. But what did she care? The town had so quickly made use of the money and the land, and she was pleased by this.
Overall, the visit went very, very well. Such joy, not the reaction she had at all expected.
Ind
eed, the citizens of Westerly were a forgiving people, just as she’d said to Father Nelson.
“Not long, you’ll be baring children,” said Agatha’s niece, Sophie.
She instantly raised a hand to her stomach. “Could it be?” Agatha aloud wondered with glistening, hope-filled eyes.
“No,” she corrected, feeling peculiar about this mention of children, for the lovemaking she and Jacob shared would surely bring children about…unless her womb was cursed forever. She actually felt a bit saddened by the fact that after all this time she had not become with child.
Her sisters teased her, especially the married one who in a way suddenly reminded her of Zaria, the things she said. Despite her sister’s attempts, she did not get so much as a flush of the cheeks.
“Dear, dear sister…no longer a virgin. Tell me, how did you so quickly adapt to becoming a lover?” And then later, “of all people I would not have guessed.”
“We just thought you’d been called upon for some religious affair in the city,” said the other. The three of them had been strolling along, simply enjoying the scenery outside of the town, travelling along a path that led from her Agatha’s home to the brook. Of course, they were not entirely alone. For Marcus and Marty were off in the distance seeing to it she remained safe. Tilly and Zaria, also, strolled along with them, enjoying the scenery as they trailed along behind, saying nothing, not caring to interrupt this time their mistress was having with her sisters. Zaria had actually said little, anyway. Rachel would not have imagined she was even able to be so silent, especially with so many opportunities to say something clever. But she knew she was enjoying herself, and although at times mischievous, she also knew how to be respectable.