The Spells of Paradise

Chapter 7: Autumn's Pastorale

Chapter 7: Autumn's Pastorale

Lucy turned the study over multiple times when she returned home, but there was no letter among her father's things. She began to suspect that Bertha Denning had lied. At that point, she was so tired that she was willing to accept it, and so she retired to her freshly turned-over bed and went to sleep. She didn't hear Beatrice be escorted in, but when she woke up that next morning she saw her friend sitting at the table, breaking her fast.

"Well look who it is," Beatrice grinned. "Are you feeling better?"

Lucy frowned and nodded slowly. "I was just tired from the journey here, I suppose. And then being all but harassed by Mrs. Magistrate and her miniature did not help," she sat down across from her friend as the servants lowered a plate of freshly-cut fruits in front of her. "Did James see you home?"

"He did," Beatrice replied. "And he was kind enough to give me an invite to the ball at his estate later today. Dawn-Bridge, right?"

"Yes, that's his family home."

"Is it as lavish as his title?" Beatrice smirked.

Lucy smiled back and nodded. "It's a very beautiful estate. Huge, in fact. I still remember everything about it. I used to play there with James and my sister when we were little children. It was... A second home to me."

"And by the way that James was eyeing you last night, it could very well be your permanent home, if you wanted," Beatrice sighed. "But then again you spoke on about how marriage need not be a woman's priority."

"Is that what I said?" Lucy bit into a grape. "I meant to say that not all women should have to live to marry, and not all women want to. I am one of them."

"Shame, because you are very beautiful, Lucy. Men want you, and you know it."

"Beauty fades with time, as do base affections," Lucy sighed. "I have to find something that will last forever, or long enough to feel like forever. I can't do that if I'm focused constantly on who I am going to marry," she studied her plate for a moment, then looked back up at her friend. "I do love James. I always will. But he wants a wife, and I do not want to be one. Our ships will always pass in the dark, never to converge, but always close enough to where it's painful enough to feel, at least for him. To me, he will always be a friend."

Lucy knew that the way she spoke sometimes caught people off guard. London life did well to polish her shell, but often her inner self seeped through the cracks. Only those that knew her for a long time were used to that. She couldn't build that wall between who she was and who she had to be, that wall that everyone, including her sister, Lydia, found so easy to build. She often said things that made people uncomfortable, she knew that, and many times her emotions and feelings got in the way of decorum.

Thankfully, Beatrice was one of those people that was used to Lucy. Her disposition was the reason why they were such good friends.

"James Boatwright would make a good husband," Beatrice noted, gently patting her mouth. "Even if marriage is not what you want, it is what you need, now that your father is gone. Your home will go to your Uncle Robert, will it not?"

"That is what he had planned," Lucy mumbled. "Uncle Matthew as well, but he made it clear that he wants none of it. He and Aunt Anne have a good life with their daughter, he doesn't want to be tied down to Lanfore. Uncle Robert will have no problem in taking everything for himself, such is his disposition. You're right," she laughed bitterly. "I have to marry. So does Lydia."

"I know you value your freedom, but James seems the sort to give it to you. Think about it, Lucy, it's either James, one of your many suitors back in London, or whomever your dear uncle sees fit to hand you over to, and from what you said, it could only be someone that will benefit him and not you."