Birds in a Storm

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(image: stephen packwood on unsplash)


The funeral was not so lavish an affair as many of the others which Edith had attended in her life, but it was dignified and fitting of the man who had arranged and set aside the money for it long ago. She and her siblings wore somber black and kept watch over their father's body in the days after his death, kept company by a handful of their father's friends and a few officers Jack knew, who were very kind and attentive. On the day of the service, they followed the carriage which carried the coffin to the cemetery. They stood with the vicar as the modest casket was lowered to the earth and the final prayers were said and they lingered there together for some time amidst the fog and the headstones, huddled close like birds in a storm.

In the month that followed, Edith moved as if in a trance, making arrangements and writing letters while sitting at her father's old bureau. The smell of pipe smoke and cologne still clung to his chair. Grace was quiet and morose. When she was not at the piano playing quiet, forlorn melodies, she moved from room-to-room like a specter wrapped up in Father's old dressing gown with her red hair wild and undone.

Their father's sisters lived in Brighton in the luxurious townhouse once owned by the eldest's deceased husband. In Edith's experience, they liked nothing more than making those around them just as miserable as they were and she hated the idea of leaving Grace with them.

But they had already answered her letter, both offering their condolences and readily agreeing to take Grace into their home, writing that they eagerly anticipated hers and Grace's arrival in the coming weeks. It was impossible to tell how much of the letter's flowery wording was sincere, but Edith knew that they wouldn't make such an offer without intending to see it through. Since all that mattered to them was their reputation, appearing charitable and giving could only be a benefit..

Now there was just the matter of settling her own affairs.

Edith placed an ad in the Chronicle at the beginning of the month, but did not receive any promising offers from it. She also scoured the papers every day and answered as many of the ads as she could. In return, she received a handful of politely-worded rejections on the basis that they were seeking someone with experience while others demanded she take half the offered wages or even less, accompanied by a laundry list of unreasonable demands. Frustrated, she threw the letters into the fire and settled down at the desk to begin again.

She spent a long while contemplating her options and found none of them particularly appealing. She could bow to fate and ask her aunts for help, whether that meant going to live with them herself or having them reach out to their various friends and familiars. The idea alone was enough to leave a sick taste in her mouth. She could also just choke down what was left of her pride and accept one of the offers she'd already received–regardless of how insulting the pay was or how degrading the demands.

Then she struck upon another idea. She did not like it any more than she did the others, but not for the same reasons.

She'd known Nicholas Hart since they were children and while they had not met in person in some time they still exchanged letters semi-regularly and she still considered him a friend. More importantly, his family was wealthy and well-connected. It was very likely that they knew someone who needed a governess.

Maybe it was taking advantage of their friendship and the affection she knew he still had for her. But what other choice did she have?

Edith sighed and then reached for a pen and a clean sheet of paper.

*

Edith was prepared to wait maybe a week or more for Nicholas' answer. He lived near Brighton, but he traveled so frequently to attend to his family's business that his letters and responses were often quite delayed, depending on when he actually received them. So she was very surprised, and relieved, that his response came within just three days.

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