Sam was gone. Charlie had tracked Frank down at Gatherford Park to deliver the news. But that was not all.
Please, brother and sister, I know you have both done well for yourselves. If you could only provide me a modest allowance for a few months...
Violet turned to Frank, her wide eyes filling with tears that had no definitive source. Even as they spilled down her cheeks she did not know if they were tears of sadness that one of her brothers had died or tears of rage that the other would immediately beg Frank for money after contacting him for the first time in years.
Frank sipped at a glass of water that Mrs. Baird must have brought for him. He breathed rapid and shallow, still processing the letter as well. Of course, Frank had spent much more of his life with Sam and Charlie than Violet had and they had treated each other as brothers.
“Frank...I am sorry to hear about Sam.” Violet’s voice cracked as she reached a hand out to comfort her brother.
Though he had often denounced all of their actions against Violet, she knew the news of one of their brother’s deaths must take a toll on him.
“I must admit I am not sure how to feel right now. You know after I joined the army I lost contact with both of them. I can’t say I ever expected to hear from them again for better or worse.”
Frank rubbed a hand over his face. He suddenly seemed exhausted and aged.
“And Charlie is only a day’s ride away?” Violet asked quietly.
She should not have been so surprised by this. If one brother managed to find her, surely anyone else would be able to. But Frank was a different matter. As far as she could tell from Charlie’s letter, he hadn’t changed much.
“That is what he says, yes. I’m shocked that he bothered to contact me after all this time...” Frank stared into the depths of his water glass and Violet instantly knew that he was afraid to look at her.
“Frank, you cannot mean that you will go to see him.” The words felt disgusting in Violet’s mouth as she said them but she could see from the way Frank flinched at the harshness in her voice that she was correct.
He looked at her with desperation in his eyes. “Violet, he sounds like he’s in a bad way. He needs help.... And he’s lost Sam now. You know those two were always thick as thieves.”
Fury threatened to overtake Violet as she stared at her brother. She trembled with it, her heart beat with it, her tears flowed with it.
It took all her strength to hold herself together. She had been abused by her father and her brothers for years. Frank had done what she’d thought was impossible and had grown into a better man. He’d sought her out to apologize and put their future as a family in her hands.
Of course Violet did not wish any of her brothers harm and she had been saddened to read the news of Sam’s passing. But Charlie wasted no time in his letter to pester Frank for money. He had confessed that he and Sam had never found steady work and had bounced from village inn to village inn for the past twelve years. And now that Sam—who had always been the craftier of the two—was gone, Charlie had slipped deeper into poverty.
And now he tried to force his way into her life again. And Frank, her long-lost brother whom she’d worked so hard to forgive and accept again, seemed to see no problem with this.
“They were thieves indeed, Frank. They helped steal the joy and love I should have had in my childhood. And I’m sure they have stolen much else since. And yet you will go to him, after everything he put me through?”
The words slipped through Violet’s clenched teeth. She feared that if she opened her mouth any further all she would be able to do was scream.
Frank blanched and his eyes darted about uncomfortably. He seemed torn as he took a moment to decide what he would say.
“Yes. I think I will go to him.”
Violet took a deep shuddering breath. “Frank, I implore you to burn this letter and leave that man to wither away wherever he has landed himself. He has only reestablished contact with us now because he needs financial help. If he’d had any money to sustain himself I doubt he would have written at all, even to tell us about Sam.”
Frank gave an exasperated sigh and dragged a hand down his face again. “I simply cannot say I am opposed to reconnecting with him. That has been my mission these past few months since I’ve been here, in the past year that I searched for you. Family and forgiveness has been my mission. Surely you can understand that better than anyone.”
Violet’s anger could no longer be controlled. She stood so quickly from her seat that the chair toppled backwards. Frank jumped at the sudden movement, staring at Violet in shock.
“How dare you suggest there is anything even remotely similar to these situations? I did nothing wrong. I was just a child and yet you all put the blame on me for causing Mother’s death and sinking our family into ruin. You’ve come here to ask my forgiveness for the part you played and I granted it. But you were never the instigator or the worst offender. I know that now. You were barely more than a child yourself.
“But Sam and Charlie were relentless. They knew well enough that what they and Father did was horrid. And now he seeks to take advantage of us to avoid taking responsibility for the poor choices he and Sam made.
“Can you so easily forgive that? Forgive the years of my misery he participated in? I thought you came here because you realized what happened in our family and what you all did was wrong. Are you truly going to forgive someone who did not even write a single word of remorse?
“Perhaps you have forgotten in your time here, but I am under no obligation to forgive anyone after what I’ve been through. And I cannot fathom that would you say you care for me and regret our past in one breath yet run back to Charlie the moment he comes calling looking for money as if it can all be swept under the rug so easily.”
Violet’s voice echoed against the stone walls as she unleashed her pain and fury upon her brother. Her tears streamed down her cheeks in hot angry rivers but she did not care who heard or who saw this appalling scene. Frank’s eyes were wide as he simply sat and watched her tirade.
Violet’s energy was nearly spent. She needed to escape.
“If you think we will ever be a happy little family again you are sorely mistaken.” Her voice dropped to a near whisper, cold and resolved. She turned on her heel and rushed out of the servants’ hall.
“Violet!” She heard Frank try to call after her but she was too fast, propelled by the final burst of her outraged strength.
She thundered up the stairs, oblivious to the other servants and anyone else who passed her by. She could hardly think about manners at a time like this and she had not a care in the world if anyone thought her disgraceful or discourteous.
Once back to her room, Violet slammed the door shut and leaned her back against the hard wood. Her lungs gasped for breath from her wild dash through the house and from the shock of all this terrible news.
As her senses slowly came back to her, Violet realized that she still held the letter in her hand. She brought it closer to her face and her eyes wandered over the various offensive phrases written in Charlie’s shaky, most likely drunken, handwriting.
Violet’s stomach churned as she read over his one line about Sam’s death and all the following lines about his pathetic position.
She felt utterly confident that the man would never have attempted to find her or Frank unless he thought he could get money from them. He had discovered somehow that Frank was a lieutenant now, and even lieutenants in half-retirement received a comfortable enough payment—and that Violet had secured a position in a large, wealthy house though even a lady’s maid did not often have any income to spare.
But perhaps this development would have been easier to bear had it not been for her brother’s reaction.
Violet still could not believe that Frank would be so willing to meet with someone who had caused her so much pain for so many years. He even wished to help him despite every indication that he was being used.
The sickening r
ealization nearly knocked Violet to the floor. She had been betrayed by her family once again—by someone who had claimed to regret his actions and the suffering she’d gone through. Violet could see it no other way. If Frank went back to Charlie and gave him what he wanted it must mean that he still sided with that horrid man.
Violet had been cast aside yet again. She thought she’d escaped the cycle long ago, when she started life as a maid. Frank reappearing in her life had shaken her deeply and she realized that perhaps her past could not be escaped so easily. But she slowly learned to trust Frank again and she thought she’d escaped the cycle again, that she could learn to forgive and offer her brother a place in her life.
But she had not escaped the cycle. It would be impossible to escape, she realized. This was Violet’s fate—forever being chased by the nightmare that haunted her.
If Violet could not escape this cycle from her past, how could Violet be sure that she would escape it through her future? How could Violet be sure that any man she married would not mistreat and abandon her and their children? Or perhaps her children would turn into tyrants as well.
No matter how hard Violet tried to build her life, her past would find her and crumble it again. She could not let this cycle repeat. She could not suffer it again or allow another generation to suffer it.
A warm tear landed on Violet’s hand and brought her attention back to the cursed letter she still gripped in her hand. The words were blotchy in several places from where her tears had made the ink run.
Another wave of anger swept through her and she tore the letter into shreds.
Chapter 14
Owen closed the heavy double doors behind him, shutting out the wind that had picked up toward the end of his afternoon ride. He shivered and brushed a few flakes of snow off his coat.
A rapid clacking of shoes against the polished wood floor caught Owen’s attention. He walked a few steps further into the back foyer and a smile spread across his face when he saw Violet coming toward him. She had been busy with work again so they hadn’t had a real word between them since he’d caught her on the staircase. And he was pleased to see that she seemed eager to approach him.
But his smile quickly disappeared when she came closer and he saw the ice in her eyes. She looked more tired than Owen had ever seen her.
Owen made a note to himself to speak with Lady Neil soon about returning her duties to their usual load or asking one of the other maids to pick up extra tasks.
Of course, Owen knew that the news of her other brothers must weigh heavily upon her as well. He’d heard it from Frank and if the news affected Frank this deeply, he could only imagine how it affected Violet. But she had continued her work and Owen hadn’t had a chance to speak with her about it yet and offer his comfort.
“Violet, I’m so very happy to see you,” Owen said cheerfully when Violet stood before him. He hoped to bring a smile to her face or at the very least let her know that he still thought of her constantly and missed her dearly.
A chill swept over Owen and for a moment he thought that someone had snuck behind him and opened the doors again. But this chill was even colder than the wind outside. It came from Violet.
His attempt at cheer quickly fell away. “I’m terribly sorry to hear about your—”
“Enough. I do not wish to speak of that.” Violet interrupted him with a sharpness Owen had never heard in her voice before. It took him aback and sank his heart. He had hoped that Violet would see him as someone she could confide in.
“I understand the situation may be too raw to speak of right now but I am here to listen whenever you are ready. Always.”
Anger twitched over Violet’s face. It seemed that her anger was not directed toward the news about her two eldest brothers but rather toward Owen himself.
“I am sorry, Owen, but I do not feel it is prudent to speak to you about anything, including my family, because I cannot trust what you will do with that information,” she spat, her voice quiet and cold but conveying her displeasure loudly enough.
Owen was so surprised that he took a step back. Confusion rippled through him. “I’m sorry, Violet, but I do not understand. What have I done wrong?”
“You told His Lordship that I wished to publish my poetry.”
A small frown tugged at Owen’s mouth. “I thought you would have been happy with my gesture of encouragement. I thought I was doing something good for you.”
Violet scoffed and shook her head. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought. If you had, you would have known that publishing is the last thing I want and that I would not appreciate you discussing such matters with His Lordship behind my back.”
Owen’s head spun from the venom in her voice, but he could not let this go by without defending himself. His pride bristled and he stood straighter as he spoke.
“I am sorry you feel that way, Violet, but I assure you my intentions were good. I think you need a bit of a push sometimes. You have so much talent and you should pursue that which makes you happy. I mean truly happy. I fear that if I don’t encourage you, you may not take action to seek a better life.”
He tried to keep his voice as calm and rational as possible, but he could feel the hurt bubbling up and threatening to spill over.
Violet simply stared at him, her expression nearly blank as she processed his words. Owen immediately knew that he had said something even worse and almost wished her anger would return. Anything would be better than the barely interested way she looked at him now.
“You have no right to assume what is best for my life or what will make me happy. Serving this family is my true purpose in life. It may not seem very noble to you but I am honored to have this position and do this work that you seem to think is so beneath my dignity. I do not need to be pushed in any direction by anyone. I’ve made my choices in life and I am proud of them. What I need is to be left alone.”
Her quiet, calm words ripped through Owen’s chest but she turned on her heel and walked away before he could fathom a response.
His head still spun as he watched her leave, unable to do anything but stand in his spot as he replayed the scene in his mind.
Owen was not much in the mood for company after his confrontation with Violet so he had kept to himself in his guest room once he’d snapped out of his confused daze long enough to drag himself upstairs.
He’d sat on his bed, in the chair, stood by the window, and paced all around the room. His nervous energy cried out to be released with a walk, a run, a gallop, a boxing match, a hunt, anything but being trapped indoors. But he did not wish to risk running into anyone else lest his thoughts betray him. And her certainly did not wish to run into Violet until he was ready.
The more he’d thought about her words, the more Owen understood his error. While he still felt correct in his assessment that Violet held herself back, Owen could see that he had gone about encouraging her the wrong way and he certainly hadn’t helped matters with his word choice.
Finally, Owen’s anxiety built up so fiercely that he felt he might burst if he stayed in his room a moment longer. He knew Violet likely did not wish to see him or speak to him right now, but he could not stand to leave them in this state.
He stormed out of his room and through the house straight to the servants’ hall. Mrs. Baird, the kind housekeeper, was just on her way back to the servants’ hall as well and she looked surprised to see Owen walking her way with such determination.
“Captain Jessup, there is hardly any need for you to come down here. Surely I can have a footman or maid bring you whatever it is you require,” she explained, eyeing him curiously.
“Thank you, Mrs. Baird, but I need to speak with Violet right away. I thought I might look for her here.”
The housekeeper sighed, her eyebrows drawn up in exasperated surprise. “That’s twice in one day our honored guests have come to the servants’ hall looking for Violet. Come this way, Captain.”
Owen followed her into the servants’
hall and immediately spied Violet sitting by the fire on the far wall. She had her small notebook in her lap and she frowned down at the page, her eyes narrowed as she methodically placed each word.
He paused for a moment to enjoy the scene, the turmoil in his heart easing just a bit. He almost did not want to disturb her but he knew he must say his part. After that he would leave her alone as she wished. Owen stepped closer and coughed.
Violet looked up in surprise and quickly hid her book when she saw Owen.
“Why have you come down here? You could summon me just like anyone else.”
“But I am not just anyone else, am I? I needed to see you right away. I’ve been thinking all afternoon about our...discussion earlier today. It does not sit well with me and I seek to resolve it.”
Violet bit her lip but nodded and stood before Owen. He could see that she guarded herself when she looked at him and his heart sank. He had never meant to make her feel as though she needed to protect herself around him. In fact, he’d tried to do the exact opposite over the past few months. And all it took was a few poorly chosen sentences to build those barriers back up.
But even worse, Owen could see the hurt in her eyes that she tried but failed to hide. He may not fully understand her reservations, but he knew he’d caused her pain and that could never be acceptable.
Owen sighed and this time chose the words he’d carefully planned in his head while he’d paced about his room all afternoon.
“Firstly, I want you to know that I am terribly sorry for the position you and the lieutenant have been put in with this news of your other brothers. I can’t imagine how shocking and distressing it must be. You have all my support and prayers.”
Violet’s jaw clenched when he mentioned her brothers and her eyes turned dark. Owen did not wish to push her to speak of it if it would distress her too much.
And in any case, Owen had come to the conclusion that perhaps he should not be the one she should confide in after all.
Healing the Captain's Heart: A Clean Regency Romance (Resolved In Love Book 2) Page 17