“Mathew?” Nelle said, her voice a whisper. As he set her on her feet, Nelle was sure her face was bright red. “What’s going on?” she asked, wanting to remind him that he was an engaged man. Maybe this was part of his celebration, but he only smiled. Then he leaned down. He was going to kiss her.
Nelle placed her hands on his chest and stepped back, for she couldn’t let him kiss her, not here in public, not ever. What has gotten into him? she wondered as fear shot through her. Maybe he was delirious from the race and had forgotten all that they had so carefully constructed to keep their distance from each other.
Mathew slipped his hand into hers and tugged her toward him.
“Mathew,” she hissed. “What are you doing?”
“Come with me,” he said in a low voice, the smile still on his face.
Nelle didn’t feel like she had a choice. Something had changed about Mathew, and she needed to know what it was. He kept ahold of her hand as he led her through the crowd, then past the terrace, until they were on the side of one of the restaurants, out of the view of the crowds.
Nelle’s heart was thumping so hard, she felt as if she’d been rowing in the race herself.
Mathew turned to her and cradled her face in his hands. “Alice left,” he said.
Nelle stared at him. “Wh—what do you mean?”
“She and Lucien,” he said. “They’ve eloped.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter, crumpled and damp. “Here,” he said, handing it to her.
Nelle took the letter and opened it, recognizing Alice’s looping handwriting.
Mathew,
What you witnessed on the terrace was meant as a good-bye between Lucien and me. He proposed to me, and I turned him down. I chose you over him because I’ve been committed to you and to our families. But when you attacked him in such a rage, I knew that you aren’t the type of man I want to be the father of my children. Lucien and I are leaving to get married. We’ll inform our families upon our return to Waterbury. I’m sorry things turned out this way, but I’m sure you’ll find happiness someday.
—A
Nelle reread these words a second time, hardly believing what Alice had written. Had Alice really left? This was so unexpected, especially after her tearful pleas to Nelle the day before. Nelle felt Mathew’s gaze on her now. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, she saw a questioning look there.
He was waiting for her to declare her happiness and relief. Alice had broken off the engagement with Mathew, and now he was free.
Nelle leaned against the restaurant wall, lowering the letter and letting her eyes slide shut. She had to think, had to decide where to go from here.
“Nelle, are you all right?” Mathew asked, his voice soft. He reached for her hand, enfolding it into his. “You know what this means, right? We are free to love each other. Alice has made her decision—without any prodding by either of us. She’s probably married to Lucien by now.”
Nelle listened only half-heartedly to his words. A mere week ago, she might have rejoiced in them, but now…Although Nelle relished the warmth that spread through her at his touch, she also knew that only a few hours earlier, she’d barely been able to rise from her bed. Even as much as she craved to be with Mathew in all things, her mind continued its circle of confusion.
She couldn’t dismiss her imaginings of Pearl or why her mind had even created such a person, an entire shop, in fact. And now there was Alice’s elopement, which would surely send Aunt Corinne into a series of fits and her own despondency. How could Aunt Corinne recover from the scandal? And how would Mathew’s mother react?
Nelle drew in a breath and opened her eyes, looking into the gray storminess of Mathew’s. “I’m worried about your mother,” Nelle finally said, “and my Aunt Corinne. I’m also worried about Alice.”
Mathew slid his arm around Nelle’s waist and pulled her into his arms. “They will all recover,” he assured her. “Time has a way of softening any blow.”
Nelle knew that he was right. Even when all the blows had been softened and perhaps even forgotten, Nelle would still have her struggles. Oh, how she wished that her mother were still alive and could counsel her now. How she wished that Pearl had been real.
What if Nelle married Mathew after all? Would the years stretch ahead of her, filled with despondency, until finally, even Mathew had tired of trying to comfort and take care of her? Would she become a burden that he would regret?
Nelle nestled against the strength of his body and inhaled the scents of everything that was part of him—the soap he used, the perspiration from the boat race, and his very essence. She needed Mathew, yet she couldn’t trap him, not when her mind wasn’t healthy.
“I love you,” she whispered against his neck, and his arms tightened.
“You’re everything to me, Nelle,” he said, his voice rumbling in his chest and his breath hot upon her neck.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, hating the sound of her own words. “I’m not a whole woman, Mathew. I am not well.”
“You’ll be fine,” Mathew said, drawing away to look at her. He cradled her face with his hands, and the tender look in his eyes almost undid her. “We’ll figure everything out together,” he promised, kissing the top of her forehead. “But we need to be together to do that. Do you understand?”
“I wrote you a letter too,” Nelle said, tears building in her eyes. She reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope. “I was going to leave it with the hotel clerk to deliver to you after the race,” she explained. “But I just had to see you race. I had to see you do what you used to love.”
Mathew stared at her, saying nothing, his eyes a stormy gray.
“I’m so very sorry,” she said as she pressed the envelope into his hands, feeling greater agony every movement. She turned away.
“Wait,” Mathew said, grasping her arm. “Don’t leave. I don’t know what this letter says, but please don’t leave.”
Tears fell onto her cheeks. Nelle knew that she was moments away from becoming a sobbing mess, for the darkness had already reached her edges. But Mathew was too wonderful, too beautiful, to be saddled with her broken mind. She looked at his hand, which gripped her arm, his strong fingers, his tanned skin from time spent in his beautiful corn fields, the muscles on his forearms, which provided a living for his mother…
“Don’t wait for me,” she said.
Then Mathew was holding her again, and she clung to him. She felt his hot tears against her cheek, and this only tore into her heart faster. She turned her face toward him and kissed him, then kissed him again, over and over, until she felt as if she were in the middle of a fire, consumed by the hottest of flames. As Mathew’s mouth moved against hers, seeming equally as desperate as her own, Nelle knew one thing for sure, even if she lived a hundred more years, she would never forget this man. He was everything to her. And that is why I have to leave.
She broke away from Mathew, her breaths coming in gasps. He didn’t release Nelle, but stared deeply into her eyes as his took his own ragged breaths. His gaze seemed to plead with her, begging her to stay, and she felt her heart flip over once, then twice.
It’s time to set him free. The pain will not lessen if I delay this.
“Don’t wait for me,” she whispered again and stepped away from his arms.
His hands fell to his side, her letter fluttering to the ground between them. She turned away from him then, her vision blurred by new tears. One step, a second step, and finally a third, and she was back inside the crowd, surrounded by other people’s happiness and excitement, all the while knowing that she’d just left the only bright thing left in her life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The events of this day felt like a cross between a nightmare and a numbing blur for Mathew. In the space of a few hours, he’d received letters from two women—both of them rejecting him. He was once again a lone man, but now, one with a broken heart.
After Nelle left the boat harbor in tears, Ma
thew picked up and read the letter she’d written him.
My dearest Mathew,
My hand is shaking as I pen these words. I know if I don’t write them down, then my courage will fail me. You have been my light in a time of great darkness, but that darkness continues, and I cannot ask you to continue carrying me.
I was once given the advice to not think so much on my sorrows but to focus on my blessings. I have been trying in vain to do that, but my melancholy persists. I don’t know what else to do but find a place where I can be quiet and can heal.
I’m returning to the city and will depend on the good graces of my uncle. I will make every effort to find my way back toward the light. I cannot ask you to wait for me, for I don’t know if this is even possible.
I do not regret loving you, but I must let you go.
Always yours,
—Nelle
Mathew shoved the letter into his pocket and hurried to Nelle’s hotel. He had to convince her to let him help her. He could take her to the city, make sure she was settled, and then find the right doctor to treat her. And even then, he would marry her.
By the time he reached the hotel, Nelle had already left. When he ran into Dottie in the lobby a few minutes later, he showed her the letter.
“She’s had more than one shock lately,” Dottie said. “Let her settle in at her old home with her relatives. After a few weeks, maybe she’ll be ready to see you again. I’ll check on her often.”
Perhaps he should give Nelle some time before contacting her. Mathew could only hope Dottie would keep her word. What other choice did he have now but to trust that Dottie knew what was best for Nelle?
Over the next three days, the nightmare and numbing blur continued for Mathew. As he rode up the long drive to his Waterbury estate, he knew his mother would be waiting for him in the parlor, having already heard the news from Alice’s mother that the engagement was at an end. He could only hope this news hadn’t affected Mother’s health, for her sake and for Nelle’s, since Nelle would then think herself responsible for one more devastation.
He’d finally sent Nelle a long letter, mostly contradicting what her letter had said, and telling her he was a patient man. He only hoped she would believe him and that in a few weeks, like Dottie had suggested, Nelle would be willing to see him.
As Mathew had suspected, his mother was waiting for him. With more gratitude than ever, he embraced her. Her coloring seemed healthy and her eyes bright. He couldn’t ask for anything more.
“I have been worried about you. How have you been, dear?” she asked, the sympathy heavy in her voice.
“I’m all right,” Mathew said. All right as far as Alice and Lucien went. Mathew was actually quite amazed by his mother’s good health, for he’d fully expected to find her in her bedroom, feeling melancholy. Perhaps Mother and Nelle have this melancholy in common. He hadn’t made this connection until now, which only made him miss Nelle more. She and Mother had been good company together.
“I suppose it’s better to find out now where Alice’s affections lie rather than after the wedding,” his mother continued in a matter-of-fact voice.
Mathew settled into a chair near her and peered at her. “I’m surprised you are not more upset, Mother. I was worried about how you’d fare upon hearing the news.”
“Oh, it was distressing, I can assure you,” his mother said. “I had two letters sent to me the same day that I heard from Corinne.” As she picked up two envelopes from the side table next to her, Mathew’s curiosity was definitely piqued.
One letter was from Alice, and the other from Nelle. Alice’s letter was a true apology, sounding much more sincere than what she’d written Mathew. He was actually impressed she’d write to his mother at all.
Holding his breath, Mathew began to read Nelle’s letter next. It was an apology as well, although in a different vein than Alice’s. There was no mention of Mathew or of what had happened between them, but it explained that Nelle regretted that she hadn’t been able to say good-bye in person before returning to her old home in the city.
When he finished reading it, Mathew set both letters back onto the table.
“Nelle is a dear girl,” his mother said, assessing him. “I guess I didn’t realize the differences between Nelle and Alice,” his mother added, “until you were all gone and, suddenly, there were so many changes. I just didn’t see it at first.”
Mathew’s neck was feeling hot at his mother’s scrutiny of him. “What didn’t you see?” he asked.
“That Nelle is more suited for you than Alice,” his mother said bluntly.
Mathew felt his stomach tighten. If he’d known his mother’s feelings earlier, much earlier, what might have happened? He would have been able to calm Nelle’s fears and…He dropped his gaze from his mother’s and released a sigh.
“You’re in love with Nelle, aren’t you?” his mother asked.
He might have withheld the truth from his mother before, but he’d never outright lied to her. “Yes.”
She clapped her hands together. “Wonderful!”
He lifted his gaze. “You don’t understand. I also received a letter from Nelle.” He had never imagined himself sharing this letter with his mother, but Mathew did so now. He watched her face as she read it.
His mother went very still as she read Nelle’s letter. Long after she had finished it, she continued to gaze at the words. Finally, she looked up at Mathew. “She loves you, too.”
Mathew’s eyes stung. Hearing his mother speak these words made them feel all the more real. Now that another person knew of the pain he was feeling, it felt magnified somehow.
Mathew found himself telling his mother everything—about the time he had found Nelle lost in the woods, how she’d cried on his shoulder in the fields one day, and how devastated she had been when they’d found the apothecary shop all boarded up.
His mother’s expression was sympathetic as she listened intently. Mathew concluded by saying, “She’s afraid her mind will never recover and that her grief will never heal.”
His mother reached over and grasped his hand. “Son, I’ve lived a long time,” she said. “And I’ve learned that some things can’t be easily explained and may never be explained.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know if Pearl is real in the sense that we might think of as being real, but she was real to Nelle, and that might be enough.”
Mathew could only stare at his mother. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean that Pearl has helped Nelle through a terrible tragedy,” she said. “And it’s not for us to judge whether or not the woman exists.” She patted Nelle’s letter. “Nelle is a sweet and wonderful woman. Don’t give up on her, Mathew.”
His throat constricted with emotion. He’d never imagined he’d be having this conversation with his mother. If anything, he would have thought she’d be more upset about Alice and would hope things fell through with her and Lucien.
Mathew sat back in his chair and released a breath. It was a relief to hear his mother’s opinion, yet he now wondered whether he’d made a horrible mistake. If he’d never asked Alice to marry him in the first place, where might he and Nelle be now? Certainly not miles apart. Perhaps they’d be engaged, and then Nelle wouldn’t have locked herself away in her uncle’s home.
“I must go to her,” Mathew said in a raspy voice. He cleared his throat, his determination taking hold. “I must go and speak with her, tell her that I love her no matter what and that she is everything to me.”
His mother’s smile was triumphant. “And I will come with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nelle looked at the stack of letters and reread the letter Mathew had sent her the week before. He’d been writing her each week, but she had yet to reply. He wanted to visit her and to bring his mother as well. Mathew explained that he had confessed everything to his mother and she was completely accepting of their relationship and harbored no ill feelings. Nelle knew she should feel elated. Instead,
the numbness that had engulfed her since the boat races persisted. Another letter that she wouldn’t answer. For how could she? It would only give him hope.
Today, she had received a new letter from Mathew, one that she had yet to open. She knew it would contain the same message of well-wishes, of expressed desires to visit her, and of questions she couldn’t yet answer.
She’d been meeting with a psychiatrist the past few weeks, and he said that grief had caused her delusions, and that her grief might take years to heal. After each appointment, Nelle only felt more discouraged. What if the doctor was right, and it took years before her mind righted itself? Or what if that never happens? she worried.
She tucked the letter into a small satchel that also held her book as she walked through the gardens behind her parents’ home…Now my uncle’s home, she reminded herself. The weather was changing, and autumn had begun in full force, the green leaves already changing to yellow, red, and orange.
Nelle’s trust fund had recently come in, so she had access to her own money. It was not the comforting thought she’d expected. Living at her uncle’s and being under a doctor’s care, Nelle hadn’t wanted to insert herself into social functions again. Her existence had become very lonely. She’d only seen Dottie twice. And the wedding plans with her fiancé, Simon Richards, were in full force.
Tomorrow was Dottie’s wedding day, and then what?
Nelle would go back to her quiet walks in the garden and long afternoons in the music room, picking away at new melodies on the piano, never feeling the joy that music used to bring her. At least in Waterbury, when she’d had Mrs. Janson for an audience, Nelle had found some purpose in playing.
Nelle stopped in front of her favorite bench, the one that she’d carved her initials in as a young girl—for which she was reprimanded. But her father had left them there. After all of these years, the memory still filled her heart. Nelle sat upon the bench. Instead of reading Mathew’s new letter, she pulled out the book she’d brought—Wuthering Heights.
Love is Come (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 17