Page 56
Story: Unseen
His eyes flared at the word, and he shook his head. “No, in fact, I think a rest would do you well. Perhaps even a bath.”
He strode from the room, and in his absence I felt truly for a moment, an unmoored ship tossed upon a churning sea. There I stood, a new bride, with no family to welcome me or friends to congratulate me. No wedding. No party. And now, not even a husband in the same room as I. It was almost anti-climactic, to be left thus.
What did I do now? How did I settle into this life?
And then I realised that before me still lay the task of informing my family, a task I could not very well delay any longer.
Mary was still hovering around me, her eyes moving from the doorway Azriel had disappeared through, and back to me. I cleared my throat, clutching my hands together so she did not see them trembling.
“Mary, I need a telegram sent to my aunt, today.”
Mary nodded, wariness etched into her face. “Of course, madam.”
“I shall write it down for you, and please go directly to the post office while I rest.”
She reached out and put a hand over mine, her brow furrowed. “Madam, are you…” She trailed off.
I think we both knew it was fruitless to ask if I was well, if everything was well. We both knew what lay ahead, what was coming for me, and what it meant for my family. There was hardly any point in dwelling on it.
Instead, dutiful Mary lifted her eyes to mine with a reassuring smile, and squeezed my hand.
“I shall go directly. And I promise you, all will be well.”
That letter wasthe hardest one I had ever had to write, not least of all because it was not even a letter. It had to be short, to the point. A telegram did not allow for explanations, but I needed my family to hear the news from me before it reached their ears through other channels. And I knew it would, no doubt it would. Someone had to have seen us over on Fulham Road, on a busy morning. Me, in a blue dress and having my hand kissed by my stepson.
God only knew how far the news had already travelled.
Dear Aunt,I wrote.I have accepted Azriel Caine’s hand in marriage. I am exceedingly happy. Tell Father I love him. Please come and see me soon. Your loving niece, Evangeline.
It sounded vacuous. It sounded delighted. It sounded like all the things I certainly should not be when I had barely just buried a husband. But I could not give even a hint that I felt regret, or remorse. That way lay danger. If Azriel sniffed even a hint of my attempting to paint him as the blackmailing villain…
I clenched my eyes shut and stuffed the letter into an envelope. It did not even bear thinking about.
“Mary!” I rose to my feet, the envelope clutched in my sweaty hand. “Mary!”
She came rushing in from the other room, her needlework still in hand. “Madam?”
“Please go and take this down to the post office yourself, and…” I realised as I handed her the letter that the news would arrive at the post office first. No concealed letter. A telegram that everyone in my home town would know about by the afternoon. The true weight of what was about to befall me landed squarely on my shoulders, and I staggered, clasping onto the back of the chair.
“Madam, please, lie down.” Mary took my hand, attempting to guide me to the bed.
I shook her off, clutching my hand to my chest. “I am well, please, just go and take this letter to the post office, and take it yourself. My family must… they must be informed.”
“Of course, madam.” Mary’s face spoke volumes, but she obediently tucked the letter into the pocket of her pinafore. “I will see to it at once.”
“Thank you.” I watched her leave, a door closing somewhere off in the distance. I sagged against the chair, draping myself over the back of it and holding my head in my hands. I could not even begin to imagine my father’s face when he was told. I knew to expect a visit from my aunt in the next days. The outrage would be immense.
The door opened behind me, and I sighed.
“What is it, Mary?” I asked, straightening and rubbing my neck with my fingertips.
“I just thought I’d see after my bride.”
I spun around at the deep voice, and there stood my new husband. He was still in his trousers and waistcoat, but had removed his necktie, so now his shirt hung open, revealing his strong chest.
“Are you well, beloved?” He asked as he closed the door softly behind him. “You look so pale.”
“A permanent state these days, I think.” I brushed the hair from my forehead. “I have just written to my aunt.”
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