Sighing, I open the door. Kellen stands on the other side with something big and green in his arms, which looks almost like a stranded seal.
“Mr. Edgewood saw you walking the other day,” he says, offering me the strange object. Reflexively, I take it, then realize what I’m holding.
It’s an absolutely lovely emerald peacoat, with big tortoiseshell buttons and a fur-trimmed hood. When I shake it out and hold it up in front of me, I’m struck by how well made it is, certainly more than anything I’ve bought at a big-box store.
“Winter is coming quickly, and Mr. Edgewood wants you to be safe and comfortable,” Kellen says as I lay the coat over the chair.
“That’s nice of him.” I don’t know what to make of the gift. It’s thoughtful and kind, and it’s certainly something I needed.
I can sense that Kellen wants to argue Mr. Edgewood’s case again, but I stop him with a hand.
“I’ll accept it,” I say, “if he promises not to give me another gift.”
Kellen’s eyes drop. “I’ll let him know.”
We each say goodnight as he leaves. Then I put on the coat and observe myself in the mirror.
I look almost… elegant. I shove my hands into the pockets, which are deep and lined with silk—and there I find a piece of paper tucked inside.
I pull it out. This is no note. This is aletter, written on thick, fancy linen paper in a neat, cream-colored envelope. I open it up to reveal a golden seal embossed on the top that reads RUPERT EDGEWOOD.
Rupert. This is how I find out?
Though I would say Mr. Edgewood always has good and readable handwriting, this is exceptional. He’s clearly taken care with it, beginning at the very top with a swirling A for “Ms. Austin.”
Ms. Austin,
When I was a boy—yes, a human boy—I once kicked a football and hit my mate square in the head. It gave him a rattle, and I believe he had a concussion. It was deeply unpleasant knowing I had hurt someone I cared about, and he was afraid of playing footie forever afterward.
It is painful to cause someone hurt, but that pain does not override the injury that has been inflicted. I was petulant and prideful when Idid not come to your dinner. I let my self-loathing of my form get in the way of enjoying the fruits of your hard work.
Likely it is because I care about you, Ms. Austin, and so your opinion has the utmost effect on me. I could not stand the idea that you were disgusted with me, and so I was a coward.
Please, let me make it up to you. On Saturday night, at six p.m., I would like to formally invite you to the dining room for dinner. All you need to bring is yourself, and I will handle everything else.
I would very much like the opportunity to get to know such an intriguing woman as you, given I have not destroyed our budding friendship with my carelessness.
Sincerely,
Rupert Edgewood
I stare at the letter for a long time, reading it over and over. The item carries a scent, musky and leathery like the one I smelled when I was in Mr. Edgewood’s rooms. I breathe it in, closing my eyes as I think over how to respond.
He owned up to his mistakes and spelled out why he had made them without excusing himself. He understood why it had hurt, and now he’s offered a way for him to hopefully make amends.
I set the letter on the desk and hang up my new coat in the closet. Then I turn over his letter and write on the back.
I accept.
-P
rupert
I am over the moon when I receive Ms. Austin’s reply. She is willing to give me another chance. I will not squander it this time.
I give Kellen a very detailed list of what I want for the dinner, and his eyes go wide as he scans it. But he takes it without questioning anything.
“I will trust you to choose the bubbly, since I can’t go myself,” I tell him. “Please pick something that pairs well with the beef.”
