***(I added a bit more to this chapter, instead of making it a new one. Next chapter will be from Bluff's POV)***
Whitely
I lay my cheek against Jeb's shoulder, cheek rubbing the stiff fabric of his navy blazer. My arms wrapped around him, sincerely relieved to have someone I trust near me.
But my heart is broken.
I want to hide my sadness. Don't want him to see how much I had changed in only a matter of weeks. Inside, my whole self is shifting. My soul twists and turns like it can't quite figure out how to be comfortable in a place that was once my only comfort.
This huge building, cold and stiff but intricately decorated into a juxtaposition of classic and modern fashion, was the one place I imagined my life leading to something resembling happiness.
Now when I close my eyes all I picture is the sea.
"Are you okay?" he whispers into my hair.
I know this much closeness makes him uncomfortable, but I refuse to pull away and show him the tears in my eyes. We barely touched the entire time we courted, and I could never quite figure out if it was due to fear of retribution—his mother was severe in her expectations of modesty and propriety—or if he was sincerely put off by intimacy all together.
That never really mattered though, because the value of our relationship was never in the physical, nor even the romantic. We were friends. We confided in one another. I was a shield against his parents harshness (they loved me and my father, though why was difficult to tell) and he was an escape, a way out.
My father's obsession with infiltrating high society led him to... extreme measures on occasion, and I knew those measures would include me sooner or later. A pretty daughter was a huge asset. I would be married to someone of high standing. It didn't really matter who.
More than once he'd implied a desire for me to becoming friendly with Mr. Robinson, a man older than my father and twice as cruel—if the rumors were true (and the expression on his servant's faces told me they were).
More than once, I'd considered running away. When I turned ten my father made enough money to buy a flat downtown and hired a maid who told me stories about girls living on the streets of New York, and they were not kind. But even those threats were favorable to the threat of marriage to an awful man.
Then, when he learned my childhood friend, who I spent too much time 'rolling around in the mud' with was the heir to his parents old money and well established estate, my father's focus shifted. And the moment his interest in courting me was established all that stress fell away like dirt in a warm bath.
My father's countenance changed, for a time. He was... proud. We had tea in the big house while she schmoozed Jeb's father, bonding over cigars and scotch, while Jeb and I played hide and seek and truth or dare in his massive home.
Just to have a future with someone I cared for, somewhere I felt comfortable, while still pleasing my father—was a dream I had thought lost to me.
That's why I loved Jeb. He was my hope.
But that was until I saw that there was so much more to life. So much more to this world.
And now I couldn't get it out of my head.
I finally loosened my grasp of Jeb's shoulders and he pulled away.
"Tell me what happened. I was very worried."
I swallowed. "Father got in some trouble, I guess, and he took us away to some coast town in the Carolinas. But this trouble followed us and..."
"What kind of trouble was that terrible that he had to flee? We could have helped."
Jeb's father appeared in the parlor doorway, approaching with slow quiet steps, his face flat. "No, we couldn't have," he said in a low voice.
Jeb whipped around to face his father. "What do you mean? You knew?"
"It wasn't the kind of trouble that could be fixed with a good reputation and we didn't have the money..."
"What do you mean? We have plenty of money."
"We have plenty for what we need, but you have no idea how much it would have taken to free that man from the hole he'd dug for himself. Not nearly enough to be worth..."
"It's okay Mr. Petre." I cut him off, knowing the rest of his sentence was not going to be kind for me, and that would only cause Jeb to defend me which would help no one. I take in a long shaky breath. "It shouldn't have been your responsibility to fix his problems."
He looks down at his feet. "Yes."
"But did you know they were leaving? Or where they went?" Jeb asked with a raised voice.
"No. He'd been planning his contingency plan for a very long while, that much was clear. But he left too suddenly to know much of anything. And by then, I didn't much care."
I swallowed, not liking the look on his face. Is he no longer interested in allowing me to marry his son?
Is that even what I wanted? -- No. That was actually an easy answer. But even so, I wasn't sure what my other choices were. Bluff and Rosemera were gone. I had no more allies.
If only I'd refused to leave so easily. If only I'd jumped into the sea with the sirens. I shivered at that thought. Okay, maybe nothing that extreme.
"What does that mean? You didn't care about Whitley?"
"If her father was that much trouble...she wasn't worth crossing the mob."
Jeb clenches his fist but I place a gentle hand on his forearm. "It's okay."
He turns to me. "How can it be?"
"Because he's right. My father made his bed, and getting involved would have only dragged you down too."
He shook his head. "We could have come with you, then."
I shrugged. "Maybe. But it doesn't matter now. My father is gone, I don't know nor care where he is. I am here."
Jeb pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I knew there was a reason I liked you." I looked up to see a kind smile on Mr. Petre's face. He was much softer than Mrs. Petre, and I still worried about what her reaction would be.
"How?" Jeb asked, ignoring his father, looking me in the eye. "How did you get back? I heard something about a pirate ship?"
I smirked. "It's a long story."
"And you'll have a very long time to tell it." His father says, placing his hand firmly on Jeb's shoulder. "Let the girl rest and get cleaned up. She clearly needs it." He wrinkles his nose and I almost laugh. "We have a party planned for tomorrow night. You should both appear, pretend nothing is amiss. If you're going to continue your courtship we'll need a good story about your absence and unconventional return. If indeed The Spectator decides to print the story, as I've already heard rumors of their interest already, it will need to be well planned."
Jeb took in one long deep breath then turned to face his father. "Okay." He says quietly. He doesn't seem to have forgiven his father, but accepts his plan. I find it very forgiving, myself.
Now comes my biggest test.
Can I fit back in here? Jump back into high society life like I haven't tasted true freedom and life changing passion?
My heart aches as I close my eyes and I am met with the rock of a ship, the crash of the waves and the gentle kiss of salty air.
****
My despair only grows as the salt is rinsed from my skin and hair untangled and washed and pinned to perfection. The pins in my hair pinching, the laces of my corset pulling my body into perfect form—because its natural state isn't good enough.
I stare in the mirror, realizing how much I hate everything I see.
I don't want this.
It's the thought I can't get out of my head the entire day. Every polite conversation I force my way through, I have to fight the words from break free of the prision I've formed for my true self.
None of this is any different than before. The fashion, and snooty looks, the hidden motives and scrutiny. It's just, now, my soul has tasted freedom and I cannot seem to tame it the way I once had.
I'm barely there. As servants dote on me, as decorations are set and the music begins. As guest arrive, as the polite questions, full of thinly veiled intentions bombard me. As Jeb asks me to dance, his hand stiff in mine.
My mind is elsewhere.
"You still seem off,"
"A little," I say lightly, looking past him at the intricate fake world they've created.
"Why won't you tell me what it is? What happened while you were gone?"
"It's nothing. Nothing happened, I just..." am unhappy here.
I still care for him, he's still the friend he always was. But now, he could never fully understand. If I told him how I continually dream of the sea. Of Bluff...
I shake off the thought.
He leans in, and whispers in my ear with a low seriously voice, "If you continue to act strangely, people are going to start talking. Mother says it's already questionable, that you made it out of your... situation unscathed..."
He leans back for a moment, eyes blank as we continue to move with the music. I don't even know how my limbs continue to move. My mind is frozen, my heart still.
Jeb finally meets me gaze with a soft expression. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If something... bad happened? I wouldn't... it wouldn't change my mind."
My stomach twists. But what if it would change mine? I think.
"Jeb, why do you want me?" I blurt out. It wasn't something I ever questioned before. When this just seemed to make so much sense. But I get the feeling Jeb doesn't love me, not the way a husband would love a wife. Is he just being kind? Doing me a favor?
In truth, I found myself hoping for an excuse. To let him go and find something else, anything else, to complete my life. I didn't even care if it led to ruin. Not anymore.
It was a stupid thought, because even suffocating in this world, was better to do many of the likely alternatives. I could be happy here... right?
I once would have been. Can I really never go back?
Still, I searched for hope in his eyes. Let me go, I begged him internally.
"What?" he asked, eyes wide at my question. "You, we, I mean... it's always made sense."
I nod lightly. "It did. But—"
"Is it not what you want?" he asks suddenly, stopping even though the music doesn't and we're still in the middle of the dance floor.
I pull him back into motion and he follows. "I don't know, it is. But—"
It isn't.
"You don't know."
I shake my head. "I don't know what I want, anymore."
He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw. Finally the song fades to a close and Jeb releases me. I follow the rules of conduct I'd been trained for and walk politely back to the crowd, away from my suitor. His face is fallen the rest of the evening and I can't help but feel like the worst human being on the planet.
***This chapter turned out a little... slower than I anticipated. Too much backstory? I can probably weave some more of this into the story earlier when I revise. ***