Chapter Ninety-Seven "Forget-Me-Nots"

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I got to the top of the stairs and stood there warily. I had no idea which room would be mine. The coachmen hardly had time to unload the carriage let alone bring up my trunk. I started down the hall, hoping to find a maid when I heard a bustling. I turned to find Aunt Catherine looking apologetic, "I'm sorry dear, we should have let you freshen yourself first after your long journey." Her arms swept around me as she ushered me past several doors, "I have you just a door away from us. That way you won't feel so isolated!"

I marveled at her as she spoke, like nothing that was said moments ago ever happened. "If you want to change your room, just let me know and I'll have it settled immediately." She opened the door slowly, "This was always my favorite room for girls. It would have been perfect . . ."

"Thank you, Aunt Cate," I smiled following her, wishing for some sort of distraction.

"I'll have Dorthea look after you, I think you'll like her," she said opening the draperies. The sunlight streamed into the room illuminating the delicate pink and blue flower pattern in the bedding. I stopped and let my finger trace them. "Forget-Me-Nots," I heard Aunt Cate say, "aren't they charming?"

"Yes," the word came out of my mouth, but it was barely a whisper.

"Oh, perhaps you'd like the room across the hall better?" she asked hesitantly, standing beside me. "It's daffodils."

"Excuse me, Mum," a soft voice came from the doorway. The woman standing there must have been Dorthea as she had a pitcher and stack of towels in her arms, "They're bringing up the young Miss' trunk."

I looked up and saw Aunt Cate smiling warmly at me, "This room should be fine," I nodded. They're not violets, I reminded myself. I tried to smile when I turned to watch the servants bring in my things.

"I'll let you and Dorthea get acquainted," she said as she directed where my trunk was to go, "and then I'll be up with some tea shortly."

"That's not . . ." I began.

"I'm sure you're about to say necessary, but it is," she wrinkled her nose with a grin, "besides I have a few things for you!"

Aunt Catherine swept out of my room followed by the coachmen. "Would you like me to unpack for you, Miss?" Dorthea offered after she started a fire in the hearth.

I looked around the room again, "That's all right," I sighed, "I think I shall like the time to myself."

Dorthea curtsied and stopped beside the door, "If you require anything, Miss, just pull this," she tugged on an ivory colored sash. "It will ring for me." I smiled and nodded, waiting for her to leave.

I sat for a moment beside the window and gently rubbed my temples, "Maybe this wasn't the best idea," I breathed.

There was a quiet knock at my open door, "Do try to cut her some slack," Uncle Arthur tilted his head, "she always wanted a daughter and you've come all by yourself this time."

"Oh, it's nothing like that," I stammered, "it's just so much has happened lately . . ."

"I'm beginning to see," he let out a wry chuckle. "Never the less, she means well."

"I know," I said walking towards him, "and thank you for letting me come again." I gave him another hug, he reminded me so much of Freddie.

"Let?" he burst out laughing, "There was no time to send a reply, my dear!" He looked down at me and when I began to pout for my own rudeness, he lifted my chin with his hand, "You've always been welcome here, Margaret. You always will be."

There was a clinking noise coming from the hallway and when we looked, there was Aunt Cate fussing after one of the maids as she pushed the tea cart towards my room, "You'd think we don't entertain much," Uncle Arthur clucked.

"Hush Arthur!" she swatted at him as he made clear the way into my room, "Go find one of your new botany books. Leave us be!"

He gently caught her arm and looked at her lovingly, "I shall, but first . . . kiss me, Cate." Their antics caught me by surprise and I looked away as she willingly obliged. "Supper's at seven thirty," he reminded as he left us.

"Never mind your uncle," she said closing the door, "he's excited in his own way."

She began setting the tea cart for us near the window. "You still love him very much," I mused.

"Oh yes," she did not look up from her task, "he has always been my one great love."

I flinched a bit, her one great love. "Here, Aunt Cate, let me help," I offered, it was more of my place to serve her tea.

"Dear child," she laughed, "I know my way around a serving set. Your uncle and I were not always Lord and Lady Ashbrook."

I laughed with her, "But still, it is the least I can do to thank you for allowing me to come under such circumstances." She nodded and I finished setting out our tea.

Aunt Cate took a quiet, fond look about the room before she stood. As I sipped my tea she opened my wardrobe and then turned to my trunk. "You didn't bring much."

"Um . . . I brought only what I needed."

"You've spent too much time with your brothers," she shook her head at me, "a young lady should travel with more than just four dresses."

I jumped up and ran beside her, "That can't be all I packed!" Leafing through the trunk's contents I found that she was correct. "I must not have been thinking . . ."

"That's very clear," she looked me over again. "The dresses can be remedied," she took my hand in hers, "but I'm not sure your heart can." I pulled my hand away and returned to my chair, staring at my half empty tea cup. "Well, that speaks volumes," she breathed.

"You don't understand," I muttered, letting my nails run over the edges of the napkin.

"Then why don't you help me to?" she offered pouring more tea into my cup. "You've come here for a reason, Margaret. To get away from so much . . . I forget how your brother put it. But if you need to ready yourself to move forward, you can't let you heart stay in shambles." I felt a tear roll down my cheek, just one tear. I knew she was right. I looked into her sympathetic eyes, and nodded.

The sun was still looming above the trees when we I began with last Christmas in Somerset, when Percival and Faith first came to visit. When I ended with my journey to Kensington, the moon was readying to make its appearance. "Well . . ." Aunt Cate breathed, "no wonder you needed a safe haven."

"So, I left everything that happened behind," I said walking towards my trunk, "To ready myself to accept Percival."

Aunt Cate shook her head again, "But you said you're not in love with him, so why . . ."

I reached into my trunk and brought out the stacks of letters from Percival, "He is a good man! He wrote me countless times even after I broke with him in London!" I could feel my voice shake as it rose.

"Yes, but . . ."

"I haven't heard anything from Isaac in over four months! Not a word! Nothing from him nor his father!" I could feel my shoulders fighting to keep me together, "Nothing."

Aunt Cate moved to sit on the bed, looking over Percival's letters. She looked into the trunk again and reached for the journal that Owen gave me, "I thought you said you left all of your journals behind?"

"All of the journals of pressed violets," I corrected, "Anything that would remind me of Isaac." I sat next to her, looking at the journal, "Owen gave me that . . . to keep only happy things in it," I sniffled. "He said that everyone should always have a happy place to go to."

"Ah," she nodded, gingerly fanning the pages, "only happy things." I nodded wiping my eyes. "Then perhaps that is why this is in here?" I looked at her as she held up the token Isaac gave me for my birthday, the pressed violet.

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