Toby kept his eyes on the game. Watched Liberty move pieces around the chessboard after careful consideration. He didn’t remember her playing chess when they were young. Liberty had always wanted to be outside, riding or walking, but apparently she was good at it.
“I may have been young, but I saw her the day she came home from your house,” Edward said softly, and Toby thought the only way he could get him to stop was to walk away, but as he wanted to watch Liberty, he stayed. “Saw her lying on her bed sobbing as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. I climbed on with her and lay beside her. We stayed there all day not talking. She clutched my hand and wept.”
He’d said the words softly so only Toby could hear. Florence was loudly sucking on her lemon drop.
The thought of Liberty weeping for him burned inside his chest. Toby didn’t want that pain. Had worked hard to not feel.
“I hated you. Vowed I always would do so.”
“Then you shouldn’t have offered me a lemon drop,” Toby said, because he had no idea what else to say.
“I also have more roasted chestnuts, so you may not get one of them.”
“I am, of course, desolate.”
“As I’ve grown older, I’ve begun to understand that everyone does something for a reason. You and my sister were best friends; even I could see that. So something had to have made you turn from her.”
“Edward, what happened is in the past now. We cannot go back and right the wrongs even if we should wish it.”
Toby felt Edward’s eyes on the side of his face, but he did not speak again. They stood in silence then and watched Liberty play.
“When did she start wearing glasses?” Toby asked minutes later.
“After the accident. Have you not noticed the changes in my sister?”
He had, but believed they’d come with age. The more sedate pace she walked and danced. The eyeglasses. How she’d lost her zest for life… well, at least in society. When he didn’t speak, Edward continued.
“As I explained, Liberty had a riding accident. But perhaps this is not my story to tell, and she would be angry with me if I did.”
“She’s never going to tell me, Edward,” Toby said, refusing to beg the young man to continue, even though he wanted to hear what happened.
“Very well, but if you say you heard this from me I will call you a liar.”
“I won’t.”
“Liberty was riding hard, as she always did. This day more so, as she’d told me that riding in such a manner would not be tolerated when she reached London for her season. We think a bird flew up, but my sister does not remember. She fell and rolled down a hill.”
No one looking at Toby would know what he was thinking in that moment, and he was glad he’d learned to school his expression into one of cynical boredom.
“She broke her thigh and hit her head. Liberty was unconscious for days. When she woke she was different,” Edward said.
“Different?”
“Her eyes wouldn’t focus and she had to learn to walk again. I helped her,” Edward said. “She was bedridden for months and suffered terrible headaches. Then one day, Father brought in this man. His name was Dr. Valerie. And he got her out of bed and moving again. He applied warm cloths to her leg and had Helen rub in ointments.”
And I didn’t know she was suffering.There was no going back, Toby reminded himself, tightening his arms around Florence. Only forward.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Toby stood and watched his old friend win the next two matches.Liberty could have died.That thought kept circling inside his head.
“She’s playing Mr. Hasslebach, in the last match,” Edward said. “My guess is he’s not happy about that.”
“That man has whiskers covering his mouth,” Florence whispered to Toby.
“It would be hard to eat don’t you think?” She agreed with a nod.
“He’s scared he’s going to lose.” Edward held out the second bag of roasted chestnuts for Florence.
