My mind and emotions were reeling uncontrollably. I wanted to escape, get as far away from everything as possible. I wanted to cry until there were no tears left. But I also wanted to run back outside, to find out if I heard Thomas properly. What had he said again? Something about a promise and how it's his fault. But could Thomas be trusted? "No," I whispered to myself as we headed towards the back stairs, away from the prying eyes of those still lingering. What if it was just a trick to hurt me again? It all hurt too much as it was. Just seeing Thomas hurt beyond words. It hurt because he wasn't Isaac.
"Come now, Margaret," Lucy's voice was low and soothing as she tried to lead me up the stairs. I tried to focus on her but I could not stop the whirlwind in my head. She looked worried when I could not hold her gaze.
"What's going o . . . oh!" Charlotte said coming from the kitchen, "What's happened?" She rushed to us wiping her hands on her apron before she reached out towards me, taking the spot where Lucy had been earlier, "Margaret, dear, are you okay?"
She was soon followed by Mr. Nassar, whose jovial smile faltered the instant he saw us. He looked down the hall, seeing the steady line of people leaving as Patience said goodnight, "Where's Owen?"
"He's helping Freddie," Leah sniffled, "He . . . he's helping," was all that she managed and I felt her struggle a bit to keep her body strong against mine. I knew that I had nothing left, and her delicate frame was supporting us both.
"He rescued me," I thought to myself. "My friends . . ." I wanted to start crying again.
"We're trying to get her to her room," Lucy explained, "Could you . . ."
"I'll get a pot of tea straight away," Charlotte quickly turned back to the kitchen, "and . . . and . . . oh my, poor child!"
I closed my eyes tight, shutting everything out as best I could. "Here," Lucy said returning to my side, "You and I are going to have work together to get her upstairs, Leah." I felt two arms wrap around my waist and soon I was moving.
By the time we got to my room, Patience had rejoined us. She pulled back the covers and helped me sit on my bed, "I have her now. Why don't you two join the others in the drawing room, I'll be down once I get her settled."
"But," Leah started, her voice small and uncertain again.
"It's okay, Leah," Patience said softly, "you got her here, I'm just putting her to bed and we'll discuss everything that happened after."
"Come," Lucy urged, "she needs to rest."
It was quiet for a while; I heard only the sounds of Patience bustling around the room. She gathered my nightgown on the bed and then knelt beside me, taking off my shoes. The sound of sniffles caught me by surprise, "It's my fault," she whispered toward the floor before she stood. She was startled when her eyes met mine, wide and alert.
"No," was all that I could say as I tried to shake my head.
"Yes," she said as tears streaked her cheeks, "I was the one that took you to the Edgehills. I put you into all of this!" She took my hands and brought me to my feet, turning me so that she could help me out of my dress.
"You couldn't have known," I breathed. "None of us had any idea . . ."
"It doesn't matter," she said helping me into my nightgown before turning me to face her, "I have caused you far more real pain than any imaginary pain that I believed you caused me." Her lip trembled as she formed the words, "I am so sorry, Margaret."
I held onto her as my own tears returned, "I just want this to be over . . . I need to stop hurting!" I buried my head into her shoulder as she sat with me on the bed.
Patience let me cry until it seemed there was nothing left. Then just as I've seen her do so many times with Isabella, she put me to bed and left a soft kiss on my forehead. "Get some sleep, Margaret. Everything will seem better in the light of day." It didn't look like she believed it herself, but I understood what she was trying to do. I curled up under my blankets and closed my eyes as she left the room.
I was surprised when I awoke several hours later. I didn't expect to fall asleep at all, but all of the crying must have taken a toll. I lit a candle and sat in the middle of my bed, looking around my room. It was very much the same bedroom as in my youth. I however, felt very different. Different since last Christmas. Different since going to London. Yet nothing has changed here in the months since I've returned. Percival's letters were still on my desk, although most of them finally read. My journals filled with violets were scattered in several places, in fact it was hard to look anywhere and not spot one. Each time I found one, my heart ached.
I stood in front of my mirror and looked at my reflection. I did not like what I saw, I was withered . . . faded. I was far from the Margaret I was in London. If everything stayed like this, I might disappear completely. I took a deep breath, grabbed my robe and candle and went to find Freddie.