"Listen. Slide the weight from your shoulders and move forward. You are afraid you might forget, but you never will. You will forgive and remember." Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible
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Chapter Twenty – Three
"Forgive me," Alexandra said with disgust, "but he said 'I am sorry', just sorry?"
Imogen nodded. "He did not even know what he was apologising for," she murmured as she bounced little Elin on her lap. Imogen, Alexandra, and Elena were all in Gabriela's bedchamber helping her to pack her things. Gabriela needed to be in Copenhagen in time for Christmas as Christian did not want to miss Elin's first Christmas.
"Men never know what they are apologising for, Imogen," said Elena. "They only apologise because they believe it will make you happy." She sounded as though she was talking from experience. Imogen wondered how often her brother got into trouble with his new wife. Elena began organising her sister's scent bottles before muttering something to Gabriela in Spanish that she was unable to hear.
Gabriela laughed. "Oh si. Los hombres son tontos."
Imogen smiled. She was glad at having the support of her family, but that still did not heal the hurt she felt over how Simon had reacted upon his return. It was like he did not believe that anyone would be worried about him. How could he not see that she would be worried sick? She had woken up from a state of unconsciousness and he had disappeared without a word. It was not an unfeasible thought to think that he might have abandoned her because of the fact that caring for her would be too much of a burden.
Alexandra came to the bed to sit beside Imogen. Alexandra smiled at her sister sympathetically. "Just because he is a fool, it does not mean that he does not care about you."
"Allie is right," agreed Elena. "Simon has spent the past decade of his life amongst men. I doubt he has much experience at talking to women." Elena pursed her lips and added, "Talking to women he cares about, I mean."
Imogen was not ignorant as to the goings on of the regiment. She had seen troupes pass through the villages before now and they always seemed to leave many broken hearts behind.
"Do you know who the children are?" Alexandra asked cautiously. "Are they his?"
It was not unlikely that a soldier could have illegitimate children throughout Europe, but she could not believe that of Simon. He was too noble, too proper.
Imogen had to presume that the little boy was Harry. He was such a sweet looking boy. But she had no idea who the girl was. She was also an attractive child. Imogen could not help but feel jealously when she contemplated the fact that Simon could have known her mother. She would have had to be very beautiful.
"I do not know," replied Imogen honestly. But if he had a good explanation, the children would not bother her. How could they? They were children. She had only met them for the briefest of moments but she knew that they were excited, happy children. She could also tell by the way that Simon was fussing that he cared about them, that he loved them. Imogen respected him for that.
"Well, he had better try to make amends soon," declared Alexandra angrily, "and with a decent apology, and a decent explanation."
Elena came to take Elin from Imogen so that she could have a cuddle. Elin would most likely be a grown child before she saw her again. "Imogen, regardless of what happens, you should be very proud of yourself. You have achieved so much in Simon's absence. You are so strong now." Elena smiled at her and then began to sing softly in Spanish to her niece before returning to her sister's side.
Imogen needed to leave the bedroom. She felt guilty for whining when Elena was trying to say goodbye to her sister. "Thank you, Elena," Imogen said gratefully. "I will go downstairs and have tea brought to the drawing room. Will you join me in half an hour?"
Alexandra and Elena nodded, Gabriela joined in when she saw what they were doing. Her English was still quite poor, no matter how she tried to improve.
Imogen left Gabriela's bedroom and walked down the hallway to the stairs. She ignored her brother's stair contraption and made her way down the stairs carefully. It still gave her a thrill to be able to ascend and descend the stairs by herself.
As she walked down the stairs, Imogen could not help but feel as though her life was changing direction. She had initially thought that Simon was her future. He was the first man that had ever shown interest in her. But their course had clearly changed. The path to marriage would not be easy.
Perhaps Simon had come into her life to help her, and now she was strong enough to make a good marriage on her own. Any amiable man would take her now. She would not be so burdensome.
Imogen cursed Simon when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Yes, now she was amiable, but that did not change who her heart belonged to. Her heart belonged to the scarred Colonel who had no idea how much he was loved.
Imogen walked into the drawing room and rang the bell. She then went over to the pianoforte and began to practice her scales. She began to hum softly as she moved into a song. She removed her hands from the keys when she heard a knock on the door of the drawing room.
"Yes?" she prompted. A footman stepped into the room and she stood up from the piano stool. "Could you please ask Mrs Weston if we could have a tea tray sent up in twenty minutes or so?" she requested. "Four teacups, for myself, Lady Alexandra, Princess Elena and Princess Gabriela?"
The footman nodded. "Of course, milady," he replied. "Will there be anything else?"
"No, thank you," she replied.
The footman bowed his head and departed the drawing room. Imogen returned to the piano and began playing notes at random, jumbling the keys into a tune.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the drawing room door again. Imogen furrowed her eyebrows. That was awfully quick for a tea tray to arrive. "Yes?" she prompted again.
This time it was not a footman that appeared. It was Simon. He was still wearing his travelling clothes, suggesting that he had followed her quite soon after she had left. He looked out of breath, as though he had ridden very hard to get to Ascot quickly.
Imogen recalled him once telling her that horse riding was not a strenuous activity as the horse was the one doing the work. Clearly not, if one was racing toward a target.
Imogen wondered if he had let himself into the house as usually Mr Clarke would announce a guest. "Colonel," she said formally, rising from the stool once more to receive him.
"Imogen," he breathed, "there is so much that I need to say to you."
Please say the right things, she prayed.
Simon extended his arms and invited Imogen to sit down on the settee with him. "Please?" he asked.
Imogen obliged him, but kept an appropriate distance between them. She neatly folded her hands in her lap and took a deep breath.
"Imogen, I am so sorry for everything that I have put you through these past six weeks," he said sincerely. "It did not occur to me that you would be so worried."
"Of course I would be worried," Imogen all but growled. She was holding her tongue to stop herself from being rude. "You disappeared for six weeks. Anything could have happened to you."
"Imogen, I am not used to writing home about my whereabouts and my wellbeing. I am resourceful. I have been in battle numerous times. Disappearing for six weeks is not out of the ordinary for me." Imogen could see that Simon was trying to get her to see the rational side of his disappearance, to show her that worrying was not necessary, but he was unsuccessful.
"Simon," Imogen said calmly, "you do not get to disappear again without telling me where you are going. You are not in the military anymore. You live in Derbyshire with your family. You have a responsibility to tell them where and how you are. You have a responsibility to tell me where and how you are."
"I know that –" Simon began to reply but Imogen interrupted him.
"Do you?" she challenged. "Maybe I am just a silly girl to you, Simon, but when you kissed me, I believed that you cared about me. Am I wrong to believe that I have a right to know you?"
Simon's eyes softened. "I do care, Imogen," he promised. "You must believe that. Please forgive me. I am simply unused to familial communication. I will do better, I promise you."
Imogen believed him. She believed that he cared about her. But did he truly understand what she had been through over the past six weeks?
"You must have thought that I abandoned you," Simon said knowingly. Perhaps he did understand. "You must have thought that once I returned you to your family that I left because I did not want to have to care for you anymore."
Imogen had thought that several times. "I would understand," she said quietly.
"It is not the case," he said fiercely, seizing her hands and edging himself closer to her on the settee. "I only left once I knew that you would be alright. Imogen, I do not think you are a burden. I never have. Just look at you! You are the strongest woman I have ever encountered. You are remarkable and beautiful and challenging. I am completely in love with you. Can you not see this?"
Imogen's lips parted and her mouth dried as she tried to comprehend what Simon had just said. His eyes were on hers. He would not look away. One of his hands left hers and he pulled something from his coat pocket. It was a leather wallet of some kind.
"My brother told me that I needed to make a gesture of some kind," said Simon softly, "a symbol of my honour and fidelity." Simon opened the wallet and revealed his war medals, a dozen or so, all neatly aligned in order. "These medals represent my honour and fidelity. I was so ashamed of myself, of what I did to deserve these for so long. You have changed that. You have made me proud of myself, proud of what I have done for my Queen and my country. These medals define me. They are every part of my past, my present, and who I will be in my future. These medals, just like every part of me, are yours."
Imogen exhaled loudly, letting out a sound of happiness and shock. "Oh," she gasped, "that was a very good apology."
Simon grinned and cupped her face with his right hand. "Do you forgive me?"
Imogen nodded helplessly. "Of course I do. But you do not need to give me a gift to earn my forgiveness. Just knowing that you are here and that ... and that you love me is enough."
Simon pushed the wallet into her hands. "It is a symbol, Imogen, and I want you to have them, to remind you that I will never leave you, and that you will always have my loyalty, fidelity, and love."
Imogen felt the soft leather in her hands and felt all of her inhibitions melt away. She cuddled into Simon's side and smiled. "Tell me about your children," she said contently.
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Hope you liked it :)
I had another lot of assignments to so this week, hence the late update.
I tripped up the stairs at my sport stadium today. I'd just coached both my little girls' games and I realised I'd left the drinks carrier at the court so I ran back up the stairs, tripped, my ankle gave way and I got a cut down my leg. Typical me. I didn't get to play netball today :(
But I hope the gesture lived up to expectations :) I thought it was quite romantic :)
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