by Liz Botts
At the end of the ward, we entered a small room with a narrow bed. In the bed we came upon a man whose head was wrapped in bandages so that most of his face was obscured. The man’s arms both had bandages on them, as well. At first confusion gripped me with a ferocity that drew tears to my eyes. Lord Blessington stood back and nodded toward the man. When I looked up at him, confused, he said, “Lord Hawthorne, I have brought your daughter to see you.”
I gasped, for I could not help myself. How could this injured man be Father? He bore no resemblance to the staunch, refined man in my mind. No. The soldier in this bed seemed beaten and torn, as if his spirit had deserted him when he had been injured.
“Felicity?”
The sound of my name from the man’s lips shocked me even more than his appearance, for despite all my assertions, the voice sounded exactly like Father’s. My mind whirled as I tried to reconcile the two images in my mind. Lord Blessington motioned for me to sit upon the wooden stool, which was really more a cut tree stump. Then he excused himself, and everything receded into the background.
Terror gripped me as I tried to find the words to ask the questions beating with each breath I took. Hesitating only a moment, I reached out for Father’s unbandaged hand, and held it in my own. Though I could not speak, I knew that he felt the love and grief that flowed from me as tears silently trickled down my cheeks.
“My dear daughter,” Father said, his voice raspy as if he had not spoken for quite some time. “What have they told you?”
Puzzled, I replied, “Only that you were here. I… I do not remember much of what happened, and Lord Blessington thought it best if I talked to you directly.”
Father sighed. “He is correct. When they told me you were here, and reasonably well of body, I had hoped to find your spirit unharmed, as well. The good Lord has protected you by darkening your memory, but I fear that what I have to tell you shall be hard for you to understand.”
I swallowed against the growing lump in my throat. Father’s words did not inspire confidence. Nor did they answer the questions about Mama or James.
“Your brother and I fought hard, but as you can well tell, I was injured. Do you remember finding me?” Father’s voice sounded so soft, as if the bandages were muffling his voice, although his mouth was not covered.
Closing my eyes, I concentrated as hard as I could, willing myself to remember. But try as I might, I could not conjure any memories from that day other than the root cellar and the shrill screams. “I do not. Please forgive me, Father.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Father said, squeezing my hand gently in his own. “Things were grim. I could not move. A bullet had lodged itself in my side. I am fortunate that I had my wits about me long enough to tell you to get help. After the soldiers arrived, they transported me and your mother to the fort and sent out a search party to look for James.” He paused, and I tried to absorb the information he was giving me.
“But what about….?” My question petered out before I could finish. Tears surged into my eyes. I waited quietly for Father to continue, not daring to move, not even to wipe the moisture from my cheeks.
Father heaved a weary sigh. “The search party concluded that James has been taken hostage by the Americans. While we do not have confirmation, they were confident. Lord Blessington assures me that every measure has and will be taken to get your brother back.”
I let out a shaky breath. Not the news I had been hoping to hear, but at the very least it had a measure of hope to it. “And what of Mama? When can I see her?” I could not keep the eagerness from my voice. My spirit had jumped for joy when Father had mentioned that Mama had been brought to the fort. I wondered where they housed infirm women.
With a groan, Father clutched my hand more tightly in his own. Through the haze of my tears, I saw that he had lifted himself off the bed with great effort. As he gazed at me, a knot settled into the pit of my stomach. In that moment I just… knew. Something awful had happened.
Before he could open his mouth to speak, I cried out, “No. Please, Father. Do not say any more. I cannot bear it.”
Father patted my hand. “You must know, daughter, that she tried to hold on until she could see you again. It was her very dearest wish. Alas, she was injured too badly. The surgeon could not do anything.”
The sob tore out of me from some primal place. I did not want to let this evil knowledge settle in my soul. A world without my mother was simply unimaginable to me. She had been my closest confidante and friend. And I hers. Though I knew she loved both James and me in equal measure, she had always let me know how special I was to her.
I slumped over the edge of Father’s bed, wail after wail pouring out of me. How long I cried out my grief, I did not know, but finally when I was spent, Father touched my hair gently. The gesture felt strange and awkward coming from him, as he had never been one for affection. To be sure, he loved me, but he would rather play his fiddle for me than give me a hug. Yet right now, that touch was exactly what I needed.
“Daughter,” he said softly. “You must be brave. I have had much time to think these many days, and what I must do troubles me greatly.”
Wiping my eyes on the coarse blanket covering the bed, I gazed up at Father with trepidation. The loss of Mama still rang in my ears, but I could still hear the anguish in Father’s voice.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Father cleared his throat. “I have asked Lord Blessington to take you back to England with him when he returns.”
“What? No, Father. Please.” I clutched his hand harder. He could not send me away.
“I must. Your mother would have wanted it that way. You need to be safe, and I have seen that you are not safe here. I do not know what I was thinking, bringing a woman and children into this wilderness. Savage country.” Father moaned and fell back to the bed. He threw his arm over his eyes. Fear ratcheted through my already racing heart. Again this man in the bed could not be reconciled with the image of my father that resided in my mind.
“What… what will happen to you?” I asked after a silence that stretched for an eternity.
Father looked at me, seriously, in a way that made me feel like an adult for the first time in my life. I supposed without a mother any more, I had to grow up.
“Once I am well enough, I shall resume my duties here at the fort, and I will continue to look for your brother. If he has been taken hostage, then I shall do whatever it takes to secure his safe return.”
I could not stem the panic that rose like bile in my throat. Though I knew negotiating with Father would be for naught, my mind worked quickly to stop him from sending me away. “Perhaps I could be of use here. I know that I could do the work.”
Father shook his head once, and in that movement I knew all my ill-placed hope had been foolish. Once Father had made up his mind, the decision was final. I tried a different argument. “And where shall I be going once I am in England?”
“To your mother’s parents. They will welcome you warmly. I can promise you that. When your mother agreed to accompany me to the colonies, your grandparents were heartbroken. Their dearest hope was always to have us return. It is a bittersweet reunion.”
“Will I see you again before I go?” My voice sounded tiny to my own ears. I almost did not recognize the sound.
“Of course, my dear. But now I must rest. Lord Blessington will be waiting for you outside.” Father squeezed my hand once again, before sinking back to the pallet.
Chapter Three
“I do not want to go,” I said. The sun slanted across the path to the woods. Though this was the first day I had been allowed outside, it was also my last day here. That very afternoon Lord Blessington and I, along with three other soldiers, were scheduled to depart. The journey over land would take us many days, and when we reached the docks, the sea voyage would take many more.
Lord Blessington tossed back his head and laughed. Despite my general annoyance at the situation, I found that I liked his
laugh. Very much.
“Your father warned me that you might be stubborn. I see he was correct.”
We walked in silence, save for the twitter of birds in the trees. A stick crunched nearby and I froze. Suddenly I remembered a snippet of something. Crouching behind a tree. The heavy booted footsteps of American militiamen.
“My lady?”
I felt my eyes widen as I turned toward Lord Blessington. “I cannot go home. What if they return?”
“Who? The vile cretins that terrorized your family? Lady Felicity, I assure you that you are quite safe with me. I have had many units patrol these woods. The Americans have retreated for the time being.” Lord Blessington took my hand in his own, and for a moment the shock of a strange man touching me made the rest of the situation melt away. I could feel the heat of a blush rush up my neck. Perhaps he noticed because he dropped my hand quickly. “We should continue on.”
The rest of the way to the cabin, I felt the mounting dread. How would I manage to gather my things without the weight of what happened overwhelming me? I tried to play the game Mama had taught me as a young girl when fear of the unknown threatened to overwhelm me. As we walked, I counted my steps. When I got to ten, I glanced around surreptitiously to find the one thing that was different from the rest of my surroundings. Mama had said that this would help me focus on something real, rather than the fear, which she cautioned could take on a life of its own.
I’m not afraid, I told myself. But that was a lie. I was terrified. No solid memories had come back, but I could hear Mama’s screams. I did hear them every night in my sleep. The days had spun together with no word of James. The only bright spot had been Father’s recovery. I had spent my days sitting in the tiny room, which I learned had been hastily put together just for me. The hard-backed chair by the window had been my only outlet. By day I had stared hard at the tiny courtyard with its green grass and tiny sprouting wildflowers. As the soldiers came and went, the tiny flowers had been trampled. I could feel a little of my hope being trampled as well.
Now as I walked through the familiar woods with Lord Blessington, my heart hammered in my chest. The clearing where my family’s cabin stood was just ahead. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. I took a deep breath, so deep my lungs ached. Six. Seven. My feet felt heavy, so heavy I did not know if I could take another step. Eight. Nine.
“I cannot do this.” The cry ripped from my throat as I crumpled to a heap on the path. The perfect dress I had donned that morning with the help of my lady’s maid would be tattered and snagged on the rough branches that covered the path. I did not care.
Sobs wracked my body. I could not fathom how I would find the strength to walk into our home, knowing that the American swine had brutally slain my mother, grievously injured my father, and stolen away my brother. What things did I have to gather that would draw me from my pathetic place on the ground? Mama’s Bible. I should get the Bible to take with me. This thought pounded against my temples as I drew in a shuddering breath.
A hand on my shoulder caused me to start. I looked up into the concerned face of Lord Blessington. His eyes held a kindness which threatened to cause the tears to flow once again.
“My lady?” His deep voice shook me to the core. “What can I do to help you?”
I shook my head. There were no words that I could say that would express what I needed. Instead, I simply accepted his hand, momentarily stunned by the contact of our palms. I retracted my hand as quickly as I could. The contact stirred something deep in my stomach that felt improper somehow.
With new resolve to find Mama’s Bible, I set off again down the trail, leaving Lord Blessington to follow behind. A momentary lapse in courage must be forgivable, I told myself as I focused my eyes straight ahead. Each step that took me closer to the cabin seemed to bring with it another memory of that horrific night. I could not shut them out, in much the same way I could not wake up from the nightmare that now composed my life.
The agony of Mama’s screams haunted me. I could not imagine what those vile men had done to her, but I knew it had to have been horrible. No one screamed like that just out of fear. A violent shudder raced through my body, and once it had begun I found that I could not stop trembling. I wrapped the shawl that I had brought along tightly about my shoulders.
I stepped into the clearing, unsure what to expect. The cabin looked deceptively calm, with golden beams of sunlight streaming through the trees. While I hovered at the edge of the woods, I realized I was waiting for the American militiamen to storm toward us, perhaps take us prisoner as they had James.
“It is perfectly safe,” Lord Blessington said, his voice soft but full of something wonderful. Compassion, perhaps. “Our men have made several patrols through the area in search of your brother. We believe the militia retreated to the American side of the border. Would you like me to enter with you?”
With a deep breath, I turned to face him. “Yes, please. I do not think I can manage it on my own. The memories are coming quite fiercely now. I am not certain what will happen when I cross the threshold.”
We walked to the entrance of the cabin, and Lord Blessington opened the door before standing aside to allow me to enter first. Light streamed in through the windows, illuminating the horrific mess that had been made of my home. Bedclothes and our straw tick mattresses had been ripped to shreds, the remnants scattered on the floor. Furniture had been smashed and overturned. Nothing looked at all as I had remembered my neat and orderly home.
“Oh, dear.” The words left my mouth as a murmur, the horror I felt evident in my tone. I could hear the fear in my voice.
Lord Blessington took my elbow to guide me around the mess of what had been our table. “What would you like to take?”
“Mama’s Bible,” I replied, my eyes scanning the room for anything else that might be worthy to accompany me on the journey. My quilt would certainly go, but that was already at the fort. I allowed myself to lean against Lord Blessington briefly for support before I compelled myself to cross the cabin to the chest where Mama had stored her treasures. The miniscule contact with the strong man beside me seemed to infuse me with strength of my own. I knew that my brazenness might be shameful, but standing in the midst of the upheaval of my life, I could not bring myself to care about proper etiquette. Lord Blessington seemed to understand inherently what I needed as he patted my arm with the very briefest of touches.
Drawing a shuddering breath, I made my way through the debris in the room and knelt before the chest. I ran a tentative hand along the smooth wood, intricately carved with roses and leaves. Mama had loved this chest. When she opened it, I always felt like a whole new world opened up to me. The trunk contained things from her former life before she had accompanied Father to this savage wilderness. No one, most of all my grandmother, had understood why she would reject the life of nobility to be impoverished. Certainly Father had a dignified career, but I could hardly imagine the stark contrast between the life we lived here and the one Mama had left behind.
The lid creaked in a familiar way that brought tears to my eyes. Suddenly I wanted to bring everything, all the contents contained within this trunk, even the trunk itself. I knew that was an impossibility so I forced myself to think of things that could easily be wrapped in my quilt. I reached into the trunk and withdrew a nightdress that Mama had worn as a girl. My fingers curled around the soft cotton. Perhaps I could wear this under my dress. That wouldn’t add anything to my bundle.
“Lady Felicity? Might I do anything for you?”
I dropped the nightdress back into the trunk, startled by Lord Blessington’s voice. He stood just inside the cabin’s door, keeping a respectful distance. Tears blurred my vision as I shook my head. The nightdress would have to come. I decided that as I rubbed a hand across my eyes to dash the tears away. Digging deeper under linens and a china tea set I had never seen before, I found a small wooden box.
The lid of the box had an intricate carving on it of roses and a crest in the cente
r. I could fit the box in the palm of my hand. Twisting the lid open I found a beautiful necklace with a red stone at the center. Another thing that would be added to my pile. The fact that Mama had such fine things that I had never seen did not surprise me. That was a part of her life I had never been privy to. She had certainly planned to share these things with me when I got married. The thought caused a momentary halt to my sadness, and I glanced at Lord Blessington, who was watching me intently from the doorway still. Heat burned along my neck. I was certain he could read my thoughts, which seemed to be traveling down a rather inappropriate road. He was quite a handsome man.
I turned back to the trunk. Of course I needed to hurry and finish. Despite Lord Blessington’s assurance that we were quite safe, I could feel the creeping fingers of fear closing around my heart. I would never feel safe in this space again, but I needed to take a few things from my past into my future. Laying the lovely nightdress on the floor beside me, I added Mama’s Bible along with the box and necklace inside, wrapping them in the soft fabric. Along with my quilt, these were the mementos that would accompany me on this journey.
“I am ready,” I said. “Perhaps…”
Lord Blessington took a step forward. “Yes, my lady?”
“Perhaps we could find my mother’s grave? I would like to leave flowers, if I might.” Clutching my bundle, I kept my eyes downcast. After my myriad inappropriate thoughts, I could not bring myself to gaze upon this perfect gentleman.
“Anything you desire, Lady Felicity. I hope that such a visit will give you some peace despite these horrible circumstances.”