Lilly watched outside as trees and pastures flew by the window, disappearing frame by frame. She had no idea how far they had travelled since Michael’s revelation. It was almost as though she were in shock.
“When I was twelve”—Lilly finally broke the silence—“my father took our family for a holiday. We were to stay with his sister who lived in a village near the sea.
“I remember as we rolled into the village thinking it looked like a painting. The homes were surrounded by perfect whitewashed fences, and flowers were lined up neatly beside them. A garden bloomed in front of every cottage.
“In the center of the village, the stores were built very closely together, and there were woodensidewalks so one could visit the shops without having to step in the mud. It was the prettiest village. I decided it was where I wanted to live when I grew up.”
Michael had turned on the bench. He watched her closely as she spoke.
“It was the most beautiful place in the world, I had decided.” She grimaced. “Our first night there, we were awakened in the night. Father threw on his clothing and boots and ran out the door, my mother imploring him to be careful. Outside of the window, not very far away at all, the village was engulfed in flames.”
She fell silent for a moment, remembering.
“Father didn’t return until very early the next morning. He was covered in soot. The air smelled of smoke even though the fire had burnt itself out.
“We stayed at my aunt’s home for a few days after that, my mother and father helping his sister’s friends, comforting some who had lost their businesses or homes. Finally, my father allowed me to walk with him, back out into the streets of what had once been the village.
“There was nothing there. What had once been white and pure had become filthy charcoal and black mud. All that was left was the view by the sea.
“I remember asking my father where the people would live. They had no homes, no clothing, no businesses left to earn their living. Their very existence had burnt to the ground.”
Michael tilted his head, encouraging her to continue.
Lilly took a deep breath and said, “I feel rather the same today as I did then…Something that was once beautiful has been destroyed, and there is nothing anyone can do about it.”
She felt Michael’s eyes upon her as she looked back toward the passing scenery and wondered if he felt the same. They’d lived nearly a decade apart from one another. She had had ahusband. Another man had taken the privileges Michael had thought were to be exclusively his.
And now she was a widow.
“Did the village rebuild?” he asked, “or did they begin new lives somewhere else?”
Lilly remembered watching the remains of the village grow smaller and finally disappearing when they drove away. “I don’t know. Some of both I imagine.”
“What was the name of the village?” Michael asked.
Searching her mind, she pondered aloud, “I think it was Pelican Point, or Pelican Perch, something like that. We never returned. My aunt moved to live with a dear friend farther north shortly after.”
They rode in silence again. And then he surprised her.
“I thought about torching Summers Park,” Michael volunteered. “After the fever,” he clarified. “I wanted to burn everything the disease had touched.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“It’s a magnificent structure, actually. It’s endured for hundreds of years. Who was I to destroy it?” He paused. “Too much history there. It is a beautiful place—structurally sound, very well built. No reason to demolish it because of a few bad memories.”
Bad memories.
He’d experienced tragedy and horror in that time.
Glenda startled them both by speaking up just then. Apparently, she had been listening. “I had this dress once—most beautiful dress in the world. Pearls along the bodice, lace trim around the hemline, and I had embroidered tiny white stars throughout the entire skirt. Then that Nathan Plumery spilt wine down the front of it at the harvest celebration. Do you remember that, Lilly? Mary never could get that stain out. Had to give the thing to Mary’s sister. Now that,” she finished grandly with a sigh, “was a tragedy.”
Ironically, Michael and Lilly both looked at each and smiled faintly. Lilly resisted the urge to lean into him and take comfort in his arms.
They traveled until it was nearly dark, and everyone was relieved when they pulled into a coaching inn for the night. Lilly wished she could find somewhere to be alone but would not, of course.
They had made very good time, however, and if tomorrow went accordingly, they should arrive in London on schedule, just before dusk. And then she could say goodbye to Michael once and for all.
A less thanenthusiastic quartet climbed wearily into the travelling coach early the following morning. The previous night they’d taken their meals upstairs and then gone right to bed.
