"Saying his name stabbed my heart, like someone had ripped through my carefully stitched up world and exposed the infected, pulsing red tissue that I thought was healing." Colleen Houck
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II.
Grace shared a bedroom with Claire, and Kate had slept in with them, too, before she had married Jim Ellis. So many years of being in such close proximity to each other had ensured that the sisters were in each other's confidence.
So much so that Claire was watching Grace carefully as she filled an old carpet bag with every possession that she owned, which wasn't very much.
Mrs Denham knew what had happened, of course, but Claire and Kate were the ones who cuddled Grace as she cried herself to sleep for weeks, months.
"Really, Claire, I wish you would not hover so!" cried Grace as she folded her church dress. "This is a good thing! I will be earning twice what I made working for the Slicksons. You will have food in your belly. Besides, are you just upset that you no longer have an excuse to call so that you might get a peek at Arthur Slickson?" Grace teased. It was a little joke within their family that Claire fancied the Slickson heir, Arthur. Grace thought him a little self-centred, but he was traditionally handsome, and the type of man to set Claire's heart alight.
Claire blushed immediately. "Hush!" she scolded bashfully. "Besides, I am not hovering," retorted Claire. "What if he comes back for a visit?"
"He won't," said Grace sharply. "That was made perfectly clear." Sighing, she added, "Will you go and start dinner? Peter will be home soon, as will Jem, and they will be starving. I need to finish packing."
Claire reluctantly nodded and she left their bedroom, and Grace felt a pang of guilt for being short with her sister. She knew Claire was only looking out for her best interest. Just as Grace would if their roles were reversed.
Grace went to the armoire and pulled open her drawer. There were three, and the first drawer had always belonged to her. In it, she kept books, ribbons ... and treasures. She pulled open a stack of letters, fixed together with a white ribbon. On it was a little golden signet ring. The ring that had been gifted to her in promise so many years ago.
It was silly, really, to feel a hurt from a promise made by a child. Grace didn't feel it as keenly as she once did. Time had helped. But never once could she have born the thought of parting with these letters, with the ring given in good faith to her by Adam.
When he had gone away, he had kept his promise. He had written for a little while. In his letters he had complained about his teachers, his classmates, and his parents, blaming them for sending him away. He claimed to miss her and to love her.
As it came time to mark a year since Adam had gone away, and the Beresfords had left Ashwood House, Grace had received a letter from Adam. The last letter he would send.
Grace untied the ribbon, carefully unthreading the ring, and slipping it onto her thumb loosely so that she would not lose it as she selected the letter on top. She unfolded it, and saw it was dated September '96.
Grace, it began.
Just Grace. Every other letter was addressed to his dear Grace, or his beloved Grace, but this letter was just plain Grace. She could remember reading it and knowing just from the way it was addressed that something was wrong.
I am sorry that this message must be relayed through letter, and I could not tell you in person. I must end our understanding.
What we agreed can never be, and you must know why.
I have grown up this year, and I cannot fool myself any longer. I cannot pretend that I can do whatever I like. I have been forced to face who I am, and that is the heir to one of the richest titles in England. Who I marry, and who I concern myself with, must be carefully considered.
As much as our friendship has meant to me, it must cease. We cannot be friends, or anything else, as it is not proper. You must understand that we are cut from two very different pieces of cloth.
This will be my last letter. I will not write to you again, and I must hereby consider you a stranger, just as you must consider me a stranger.
I wish you good health.
Sincerely,
A.B
Grace felt a sudden frog in her throat, startled at how his words could still affect her. She could still see where the ink had run from where she had cried over this letter.
Oh, how this had killed her heart when she was a girl. Each word had been like a knife, stabbing her over and over as the letter went on.
He had changed. But what had she expected? Adam made a promise to her that he could not very well keep, even if he'd wanted to. Grace hadn't known what his true duty was when she had known him, and she doubted that Adam even knew. It was only had she had grown up into an adult that she realised the vast wealth of the Beresfords, and Adam was heir to it all.
He was destined for greatness and would surely have a bride who would equal it.
"Enough," she told herself, though she had told herself this many time over the years. She would not even be seeing Adam, so she did not know why she was forcing herself to relive these memories. Grace didn't know where he was, but he certainly was not going to be at Ashwood House.
Grace finished packing, including the letters, and the ring, reluctantly, and brought her bag down the stairs to place it at the door, ready for her to leave in the morning.
Claire had made stew, and it smelled divine. It was boiling on the stove with Claire tending to it diligently. Her brothers, Peter and Jem, her sister, Kate, and her husband, Jim Ellis, were all seated around the table, conversing jovially.
The moment Kate saw Grace, she jumped up from her chair, racing over to give her a hug. Kate looked wonderful, a little flushed, but well. She looked to be wearing a new lavender dress, with a silver pin at the collar. Her good husband was talented at forging such trinkets. It was how he had won over Kate in the first place.
"You are bound for the lion's den!" she hissed under her breath, her blue eyes flaring.
"Hush," retorted Grace. "I am a servant in a house is all," she said dismissively. "Really," she insisted, knowing that Kate's mind was exactly where Claire's had been. "The wage is good, and there is nothing to fret about." She took her sister's hand and led her back to the table. "How was your day, Jim? Peter?" prompted Grace, cheerfully changing the subject.
Jim Ellis was a tall man, wide with animal strength, and looked quite the giant next to Kate. Or perhaps, it was Kate that looked like the elf beside him. His skin always seemed to be tinged a little darker thanks to the soot that never fully seemed to wash away. He looked like brute, but he was kind and soft, and very tender in his affection for Kate.
If it were not for him taking on Peter as his blacksmith's apprentice, the Denhams would simply never have been able to afford it.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," replied Jim. "A few wheels. Peter shoed a horse by himself."
Peter Denham was fifteen, and the physical labour was already showing in what were once skinny, lanky limbs. He smiled proudly. "It was nothing," he said dismissively, though Grace knew he was proud to have ownership over tasks.
"It doesn't sound like it. I certainly would have no idea how to shoe a horse," enthused Grace. "And what did you get up to today, Jemmy?" she asked her twelve-year-old brother.
Jem's hair was always scruffy, his knees were always scraped, and his clothes were always covered in grass stains, and that was exactly how Mrs Denham, and indeed Grace, wanted him to be.
"I went fishing," he replied, "but I didn't catch anything. Then my friends and I went swimming in the pond, before we climbed trees this afternoon."
"Swimming?" remarked Grace. "You are quite mad. I am sure the pond is freezing."
"Oh, it is," confirmed Jem with a wicked grin. "The first one to get out has to sit in the front row when we go back to school. It wasn't me, of course," he assured her proudly.
Claire served them their supper, before taking a bowl up to their mother, and Grace committed herself to enjoying her last meal with her family for a while.
Everything was going to be alright. It simply had to be.
***
"I am furious!" seethed Cecily Beresford, for about the nineteenth time that morning. "Utterly and completely humiliated!"
Her ire on this particular day was aimed at Adam's younger brother, Jack. Jack had had quite a night, it seemed, and had spent the remainder of it in a London gaol cell. He had been collected quietly by his father before dawn that morning, and a fine paid, along with generous compensation to ensure that nothing reached the papers.
Jack sat in the carriage opposite his mother, his head leaning back with a handkerchief over his eyes as he suffered a headache from all the alcohol that he had indulged in.
Adam's nineteen-year-old sister, Susanna, sat in between her two brothers, with Adam on the other side, sitting opposite his father, Peregrine.
Adam did feel keenly for his brother, and perhaps would have been more sympathetic were this a rare occurrence. It was rarer that Jack was not finding someway or another into trouble. He had a knack for recklessness and impulsivity, and often defied their parents on purpose.
Adam could hardly remember a time that his parents had meant for Jack to become a clergyman. Jack was about the farthest thing there was to a clergyman.
But that didn't mean that Adam did not try and look out for him. With their mother the sort of woman she was, it was important that he looked out for both of his siblings. It was a responsibility that he took pride in.
"Mother," said Adam firmly. "Leave him be."
"Yes, Cecily, we have had enough of this for now," agreed Peregrine. "I want to enjoy today."
"Five hundred pounds worth of damage!" hissed Cecily to Peregrine. "And two unspeakable women."
"Mother," snapped Adam. Susanna did not need to be hearing such things.
Adam's parents were seated apart, or as apart as two could be in a carriage. They were not particularly close or loving, nor had they ever been. But they seemed to quarrel most over their children, and what they believed was best, without consultation, of course.
Adam did agree with his father, however. He wanted to enjoy this day, too. They were finally going home. After twelve long years.
Adam had completed his studies at Eton and Cambridge, as had Jack. It was only now that Susanna was finished that Cecily conceded that it was time to return to Ashwood House.
He still remembered his childhood home in vivid detail. Every memory he had was precious, innocent, and good. He had been his happiest when he had lived at Ashwood, and Adam sincerely hoped to regain some of that now that he was returning.
Adam had most definitely grown up while away at school. He had to. Someone had to be the one to get Jack out of trouble. He had matured, most definitely, and his view of the world wasn't as simple as it once had been.
Adam had also known considerable pain, and that had practically forced him to leave his fanciful, childish ways behind him. He was smart, savvy, and quick. He worked closely with his father on school holidays, learning all that he could.
And in the three years since the completion of his studies, he had grown up romantically as well. His mother treated the London Season as though it were a mission and was cunning in the way that she operated a ballroom. It was she who had orchestrated the introduction between himself and his new fiancée, Lady Sarah Ashley. Sarah was an heiress with twenty thousand pounds, and boasted a connection to Earl Ashley, her father, and the wealthy Fitzmartin family through her mother.
Cecily had not found fault with Adam in the three weeks since he had proposed. Poor Jack had borne the brunt since. Adam was certain his antics the night before were as a result of Cecily's incessant need to be criticising something.
Adam knew that his decision to propose was the right one. It was the done practice. Thousands of marriages had been society matches, just as his would be. As the heir to his father, he would be the Duke of Ashwood one day, and it was his responsibility to marry advantageously.
Love was not particularly important nowadays anyway. One only had to look at his mother and father to be sure of that. While he once might have thought he had found it, Adam now knew he was wrong, and had been entirely foolish.
"I hardly remember Ashwood," remarked Susanna, in as cheerful voice as she could muster.
"And whose fault is that?" grumbled Peregrine.
Adam rolled his eyes and looked out the window, squeezing his sister's hand to let her know that he knew she was only trying to break the tension in the carriage. They could not arrive soon enough. Adam needed a break from his parents, as did Jack.
The wilderness of Hertfordshire was a welcome sight after so long in London. It was so good to see natural clusters of trees again. There would definitely be many good rides to be had, and the thought of being gone for a whole day on the ride was ridiculously tempting.
He kept his eyes firmly fixed on the landscape, finding a memory attached to nearly every distinctive tree and boulder that they passed. He had spent much of his childhood outdoors, running about, chasing her.
It had, of course, crossed his mind that he might encounter her upon his return to Ashwood. But it had been a long time since their acquaintance had been ended, severed, utterly annihilated. Adam was entirely unsure of what he would do or say should he ever see her.
It was hard not to imagine her now as the memories played over in his head. She would be twenty-three. He knew her birthday. Was she married? He didn't know. Would she have children? Was she happy?
Even though it had been so many years since he had last known her, for a very long time, Grace Denham had been at the centre of Adam's existence. Whatever their encounter, should there even be one, Adam was determined to be indifferent.
They were no longer children.
The final few miles felt like hours as his mother continued to grumble on about her grievances over Jack's behaviour the night before. But the road that led to Ashwood House could not be mistaken, and the enormous, pearl white house soon came into view.
Peregrine, too, managed a smile as he peered out the window and took in the great estate.
The gates were already open, and the carriage took them down the long drive that was lined with perfectly groomed hedges. They were earlier than expected, and so the household were not all waiting for them outside the house.
They had been due to return in a week, but Cecily had hurried them out of London in a rush after Jack was collected from the gaol.
"I will organise baths for everyone," Cecily decided. "Jack, you stink of whiskey. You are then to go to bed immediately."
Jack let out a loud groan.
The carriage pulled to a stop, and Adam heard the footmen jump down as they prepared the step and opened the door. Adam and Peregrine climbed out first, and they assisted Susanna and Cecily out. Jack reluctantly stumbled out of the carriage last. Cecily was quick to start barking orders as Adam looked up at the house properly, a smile quickly teasing the corner of his lips.
"Come on," Adam urged his brother and his sister to follow him. "Let us go and surprise Miss Hayes."
The mention of their childhood nanny brought out exactly the enthusiasm that Adam had wanted to see in Jack and Susanna, and the three siblings took off in a run towards the side of the house, ignoring the protests of their mother behind them.
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Hope you enjoyed it!
What a week!
Planned for home learning once again. Filmed and edited videos, planned some more, had a few mental breakdowns. The kids were allowed to come into school yesterday to collect their things and oh my God it was so hard seeing them for the briefest of moments knowing I might not see them again until September/October more likely.
One of them brought my flowers and a card as it's going to be my birthday while we're at home learning and my heart just melted. I love them so much and I am just freakin over this pandemic.
If people could just do the bloody right thing, we would be back at school!
I'm also getting a stye in my eye on top of everything gah! Does anyone know how to get rid of them? I tried a warm compress but its on the inside of my lower eyelid and it wasn't really working. It's so bloody painful to blink.
Damn you 2020.
Anyway, that's enough ranting! I want you guys to come here for an escape! Same as me!
Vote and comment!!