Page 49 of Miss Hawthorne’s Unlikely Husband (The Troublemakers Trilogy #3)

When Elodia had opted to visit Aunt Theo, the last person she’d expected to be there was her father.

The last time she’d visited her father, the female he was currently courting had been there and Elodia was not interested in spending more time with her.

Not solely because she was effectively replacing her mother, or because she would unquestionably make her father unhappy, but because she actively disliked her as a person.

She disliked the way she spoke about Richard and the assumptions she made about Elodia and her mother.

She was wildly prejudicial if not outright bigoted and she hid it all behind a mask of propriety and politeness.

Even Lady Sterling wasn’t that unseemly.

Not knowing if she was lurking made her father’s house off limits, but she could still visit her aunt.

She was so old with more bad days than good, and when she and Richard left for their honeymoon, there was no telling if she would still be alive when they got back.

With Richard out of town on business, staying in their home made her too morose.

So instead, she decided to bring her aunt fresh flowers as a way to thank you for all the help she’d given both of them.

She’d driven over in her phaeton with a variety of flowers she bought from the market.

With her collection of hydrangeas, violets, irises and daffodils, she climbed down from her vehicle and walked in.

The first footman she passed nodded to her.

“Hello, Miss Elodia,” he greeted her then stopped short, shaking his head. “No, it’s Thornfield now, isn’t it?”

She smiled widely. She would never tire of hearing herself called that. “Yes, it is.”

“Congratulations, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

“Are those flowers for the missus?”

“Yes, I shall need around two large vases full of water brought to the garden salon, please. And a pair of shears,”

“Very good, ma’am.”

She strolled into the salon and stopped short when she saw her father reading his paper in his shirt sleeves and spectacles. “Lord Melbroke,”

He looked up and blinked at her and then at the flowers in her arms. “Mrs. Thornfield.”

“Where is Aunt Theo?”

“Resting. She wasn’t herself today.”

“Oh,”

“She’ll appreciate those flowers you brought her.”

“I didn’t know you would be here.”

“Were you avoiding me?” he asked.

“No, I was bringing Aunt some flowers. What are you doing here?” She set down the flowers on the side table and took a seat on the sofa.

“My fiancée has a habit of calling unexpectedly. And the conversation at my club is… tiring.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“How is married life?” he asked with a small smile.

“I am enjoying it. Richard had some business at Durant Mills but he is returning soon.”

Her father frowned. “He is already back to work?”

“Not exactly. He just needed a few days. We are preparing for our honeymoon and we could be gone for some time.”

“Of course.”

She fiddled with her wedding band, wondering if he would be willing to answer the rest of her questions about his relationship. He was here, and he seemed to be in a good mood. After he married Lady Tremaine, who knew how much time she’d have to ask him about her mother?

“There is one matter I wanted to discuss with you, if you can spare the time.”

He closed the paper, folded it and set it beside him on the sofa.

“It’s about mama. I remember you behaving as if you loved her. I believed that you loved her, but I cannot remember ever hearing you say it.”

He took a deep breath and his mouth tightened. “Is this about—”

“It’s not about anything.” She rushed to confirm. “I… I only want to have a better understanding. I have an image in my mind of the both of you but I don’t know if it’s true, and after all of this, I need to know. For myself.”

“I have journals I kept during my time there. I can give them to you to read.”

“Thank you, but… can you not simply speak to me?”

He looked as though he was about to argue but instead he nodded. “Alright.”

“How did you meet her?”

He shifted in discomfort and began to fiddle with his hands. “She was given to me by your grandfather the first time I visited the sugar plantation in Trinidad with him at eighteen. I had only just finished my studies.”

Elodia frowned. “Given?”

“Yes. She was meant to be a ‘comfort to me’, I believe was his phrasing.”

Elodia frowned and her stomach turned. “A comfort?”

“A bed slave. That was a formative part of my understanding of the truth of slavery. Before then I believe the lies circulated by the men in my father’s circle. What they told their wives. But when I arrived, it was impossible to avoid the truth anymore.”

“What did you do?” she asked, breathing through her nose as her gut churned. Her grandfather had simply given her to be used ? Like a shirt or a chamber pot?

He pursed his lips again. “Well, I certainly didn’t touch her, if that’s your question. But I freed her the first chance I got. Her and the other members of my staff my father had given me at the time. Needless to say, your grandfather wasn’t at all pleased.”

“Was that when you began courting her?”

He shook his head. “No. I had no idea of courting her at the time and I am positive she only stayed with me because being my servant meant protection. I wanted them to learn a trade to have a way to support themselves if or when they decided to leave. She learned to read and write like the others did and they devoured the books I had. She decided on being a maid. There was another freedman who was interested in her, I believe.”

“When did you fall in love with her?” she asked.

“That was sometime later for me, further again for her. She loved to read. She learned in no time at all. I fancied myself a scholar before I got to know your mother, but she truly was one. She wanted to learn everything, questioned everything and I appreciated that about her. The more she became of herself, the more I admired her. But I didn’t pursue her,”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t think she would sincerely want to be with someone like me. I thought she would agree out of gratitude or some nonsense and I didn’t want to put her in that position.”

“Because you were white?”

“Partly. Mostly because of who I was. Not only a white man but the son of the man who owned her and treated her and her family and her people so inhumanely. You couldn’t understand Ellie, my father treated his horses better than his slaves.

I didn’t believe that she could or would be able to separate me from him. ”

“But she did.”

“Somehow. I was also too nervous to approach her. I was never a ladies’ man, you see.

I was always with my nose in a book or the clouds.

She was so clever and brave and resilient, and I was so ashamed of my own limitations.

Compared to her, I felt so small and silly.

I spent half my time trying to measure up to her.

Not in an envious kind of way but… she made me want to be better than I was. ”

She could just see it. Her father the shy, bookish young man and her mother the brilliant, bold beauty. “When did she fall in love with you?” Elodia asked.

“I don’t know, I never asked her that. I was too grateful that she was willing to be with me at all.”

“Grateful?”

He smiled. “There were times where I believed that the only impressive thing about me was the fact that she wanted me. That she loved me. I still feel that way, honestly.”

“When the courtship began, how long did it last?”

“A year, I believe. She didn’t want anyone to know. We wrote letters, sometimes took walks.”

Yes, she’d read those letters. “And the wedding?”

“It was at The Trinity Church in Port of Spain. It was raining that day, she wore a simple white dress and flowers in her hair. We had two witnesses. I sent a man to retrieve those records by the way, of our wedding and your birth.”

“Thank you. How did Grandfather take it?”

“Apoplectic,” he replied with a sly smile. “He had already returned to England at the time. When he got word, he came back. He threatened to sell all of the people I’d freed back into slavery, especially her. He tried to take them to America. That was the last time I saw my father.”

“What did you do?”

“I fought him, then I picked up a cutlass. I told him that if anyone ever tried to enslave them again, I’d kill them. Even if it was him.”

“What did he do?”

“He left. He threatened to disown me.”

“Why didn’t he?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I thought he had for the longest time. But I suppose in the end he didn’t have another heir. He could have done it. Who knows why he didn’t. Some years later, we had you.”

The sound of footsteps brought two maids with a cart carrying two porcelain vases and a pair of shears.

He nodded toward them. “I believe that is for you.”

She stood taking the flowers with her and set them down on the cart. She waited until the maids had left before she asked her next question.

“How old was she when she had me?” she asked, picking up a hydrangea and snipping the end at an angle.

“She was around your age, I think. I was twenty-five, not much older.”

“What was she like then?”

She heard footsteps and then her father was there. He picked up a shear and watched what she did before he began trimming the ends of the irises. “Don’t you remember her?”

“I can’t remember her as you do.”