The house was quiet, far from the festivities of earlier. Most of the decorations had been taken down and furniture returned to their rightful places. The only sure sign of Leah's birthday celebration was the stacks of presents still in the library. My stomach dropped at the thought that I ruined something for Leah . . . again. Poor Leah did not deserve the life she has come to know. I was trying to do something nice for her, to show her what she meant to me. I stopped when I saw a peach colored flower tucked under the ribbon of one of her gifts and smiled, she hadn't even opened the one from Owen. She surely knows how dear she is to me. It wasn't me that ruined the party, not really. It was the lady and son that came uninvited. They intruded where they were not welcome. Yet it was me that ended the night. Even if everyone contested it, it still felt that way.
As I slipped down the back stairs and walked towards the front of the house, I stared at the main door, remembering the excitement I felt as I turned the doorknob. Even the main hall was void of any adornment. All of the work I had done was erased. I'm sure my family just wanted to make everything as normal as they could for me. To try to sweep away the unpleasantness, but the pain found me again. It came into my one solace, my home. Maybe I would never be safe from heartache again?
I heard a rustling followed by a thud. That could only mean that in true Freddie fashion, he was pacing in his study. Actually, he was probably tearing at everything on his desk in frustration. I knocked gently before opening the door, "Care for some company?"
"Margaret," he startled, running his hands over his hair to tidy it, "What are you doing up at this hour?" he hurried towards me, gingerly wrapping an arm around my shoulders as if I could fall apart at any moment. "You should be in bed."
"So should you," I said as I took a seat, looking up at him. His lips flattened into a line instead of any sort of a reply. He moved the other chair so that we could sit and face each other. "I know why you're awake."
"I was trying to find a way to press charges . . ."
"No, Freddie," I tried to smile, "You're worried about me and how what happened tonight will affect me when I was already so . . ."
"Fragile," he finished my thought. I nodded in acceptance of his word choice. "I would still like to press charges," he mused. "But with Leah in our care, I just don't know."
We sat in silence for several minutes, not even looking at each other. Even this felt odd, Freddie had always been the one person I could turn to, about anything. Now I was having a hard time putting my thoughts in order. "What did Thomas say?" I finally blurted.
"It's of no consequence," Freddie said with a flick of his wrist.
"But it is," I urged moving a bit closer, "He said something about it being his fault, I heard him, Freddie." I looked at him pleadingly, "Please tell me?"
He stood abruptly and started pacing again, running his hand through his hair, mussing it again. "He didn't say much, Margaret. Just that everything was in the letter, that he was sorry and that," he let out a hard sigh, "that it was his fault."
"What was?"
"I don't know," Freddie replied, "he wouldn't say anything more. In fact he just rambled that several times before I had the carriage leave." He came back and sat beside me, "It doesn't matter, Margaret. They just keep hurting you, don't you see?"
"What about the letter?"
"He said he had to give it directly to you," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I would not let him. I was not going to put you through that again!"
"So that's it. All of that pain for nothing?"
"Magpie," he leaned forward and squeezed my shoulder. "I would take it all away if I could."
I nodded solemnly. "It's been so long," I sniffled. "I haven't heard anything and the way Thomas acted . . . I don't think I shall ever see Isaac again."
Freddie sat up and looked at me with bewilderment, "Margaret?"
"I don't think I could handle even the chance of seeing any of the Edgehills again," I just kept nodding as I spoke, my eyes trained on my clasped hands.
"What are you saying? What about Leah?"
"Leah's different, she's . . . well, she won't be an Edgehill forever, will she?"
Freddie smirked a bit, "No, I think it's safe to say, not for long."
I stood up and went to the window, looking out into the blackness of the November night. "I would like to go to Kensington," I breathed.
"Of course," Freddie eased, "We'll be going next month."
"No," I turned to him briefly, "I would like to go alone . . . and soon."
He stood and came to stand beside me, looking out into the night, "I see."
"If I can be away from everything . . . everyone," I paused, "I can settle myself before Percival returns."
I kept my eyes on the window; I saw Freddie's reflection look at me affectionately. "I will write to Uncle Arthur immediately. Can you wait until we get a reply?"
"I would prefer not to," I sighed, "the longer I'm here, the harder it is."
"I'm so sorry, Magpie," Freddie pulled me into an embrace, "As soon as you want to leave, I will make preparations. I will send a courier at once, letting Uncle Arthur know to expect you within days."