Page 88
But break he did.
It became harder to go to bed at night, the room empty, the bed cold. It had become harder to wake up each morning to the same. Time and again he questioned if he had been a stubborn fool and if he had acted hastily and without thought. So what if she wanted another child? So what if his last experience had been tragic? They were different. They were in love. Surely, that would be enough?
But the days passed, Hannah did not return, and to Frederick, that was a sign that she agreed with his decision. She would not change her mind and did not expect him to either. That this marriage was well and truly over.
Cue the depression. Cue the anger. Cue the sadness. Cue the drinking! For three days, Frederick did little more than drink. And when his brother arrived on the fifth day following Hannah’s departure, Frederick hoped that he might join him in his wallowing, rather than doing as he was and trying to save him.
“Have you considered going to see her?” William asked as he took a seat beside him.
“I do not want to see her,” Frederick lied.
“How about a letter, then? Reach out. See how she is doing? You might be surprised.”
“I do not care,” he lied again. “What’s done is done, Brother, and I hope that you would see that. I hope that you are here to drink with me, because that is what I need from you. Not this…” He waved between them. “This attempt to console me, for I do not need it.”
“What do you need?”
“A drink!”
William snorted. “You never were much of a drinker, Frederick, and now I can see why. Go to her,” he urged. “Speak with her. It is not too late!”
“Do I need to ask you to leave?”
He rolled his eyes. “You think I would leave you in this state? You think I would leave Amelia to this?”
That had Frederick reeling back in guilt. He had not been a good father of late. Dammit, he had been a terrible one. These last three days especially, unable to deal with the tantrums and anger that his daughter had spewed at him when she had learned that Hannah wasn’t coming back, he had ordered Miss Temperton to look after her until he was able to do so himself.
That Amelia was so upset with Hannah’s departure spoke to Frederick’s decision, in some ways confirming that it was the right one. Although he had not wanted to use Amelia as an excuse, he had thought that Hannah would make a good mother. But she wanted a child of her own, and surely that would upset Amelia further?
No… even that was not an argument that he could stomach. Amelia was devastated to learn that Hannah had left, and he had no doubt that Hannah would miss her, too. Again, all Frederick could do was double down on his initial decision to never have children again.
“Where is Amelia, anyhow?” William asked. “I have not seen her since I arrived.”
“Some uncle you are…” Frederick muttered bitterly.
William scoffed. “Too busy looking after you. Now, come on…” He slapped him on the thigh and stood up. “Let us go find her.”
“Why?”
“To remind her that you are her father and still love her,” he said rightly. “For as bad as things are right now, imagine how she is feeling? The least you can do is ensure her that she is still loved and not forgotten, and that Hannah did not leave because of her.”
“She knows that.”
“Let us make sure…”
He held out a hand for Frederick to take. Frederick eyed it. William raised an eyebrow, and Frederick groaned, before taking his brother’s hand and then pulling himself to his feet.
From there, the two brothers trudged through the house, much needed by Frederick, as it worked to flush the drink out of his system. They made for the nursery, where Frederick expected Amelia and Miss Temperton to be, only to find it empty.
Next, they tried several of the playrooms and drawing rooms and areas of the house where lessons were taken. Again, empty. Her bedroom after that, the washroom, and a little nook that Frederick knew Amelia hid in when she was feeling down. Once again, empty.
Now, Frederick was beginning to panic.
“Outside,” he said, storming through the house and toward the back garden. “She is likely taking advantage of the warm weather.”
He willed himself to believe it, despite his rising panic.
The sun was just beginning to dip beneath the horizon, painting the sky in dark orange and purple and red—it seemed to match his mood perfectly.
Table of Contents
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