“The Priest gave you Absolution, and you did your Penance?”
“I…” Sobs broke up his words. “I hated my brother. For a couple hours, I hated him—Iwantedhim to die, because I thought: ‘If it weren’t for him, everything would be different. Mama would still be alive…’ And then—” His nephew’s tears splashed on the window-sill. “How can I ever be sorry enough for something like that?”
Joseph shivered at the winter air pouring through the window. “Selfish thoughts are a grave sin, but they cannot end someone’s life, David. You repented, and that is what matters. Through the Sacrament of Penance we are forgiven forever, no matter what sins we have committed. We need never think of those sins again. They have been washed ‘whiter than snow.’” Joseph rubbed his arms to fend off the chill.
His nephew leaned back from the window. He wiped his eyes and his nose on the sleeve of his dressing gown, then struggled to close the window with one hand. Joseph helped him. David did not turn his head; but in their reflection, the boy met his eyes at last.
It was almost like looking back at his own younger self. Eerie, yet somehow comforting. Like all Priests, Joseph would die without issue; and yet… He smiled. “When people say you remind them of me, I think they mean we look alike. Is that so terrible?”
He’d meant it in jest, hoping for a smile in return. Instead, David dropped his gaze again. In the silence, his undamaged hand crept upwards to tug the thick black curls at the nape of his neck, nervously, perhaps unconsciously.
Finally, Joseph understood. No wonder the boy had used a hairbrush to destroy his dressing glass. Joseph remembered how critically he’d examined himself, those first weeks after Ninon’s revelation. Seminary had been a refuge in more ways than one: it had no mirrors.
Joseph strode to the bedchamber door and closed it, then returned to his nephew. He clasped his hands in front of him. He must do this carefully. “David, how much do you know about your great-grandmother? My father’s mother?”
“All of it. Mama told me, before she died. I know we’re… That my great-grandmother was a…” The boy finished in a whisper: “Slave.” His eyes pleaded with Joseph to deny it. When Joseph only nodded, David looked away again. “Sophie doesn’t know.”
Seven was too young, Joseph decided. Ten had been too young. “Perhaps we should wait and tell her when she is older?”
David nodded.
“You see yourself differently now? You don’t recognize yourself?”
Another nod.
Joseph sighed. “This is our cross to bear, David. As you grow older, you will have to decide how cautious you wish to be. Whom you wish to entrust with our secret. Whether or in what circumstances you will marry.”
David looked toward the hall. “There are so many negroes here…”
“Your conduct toward them should be that of a gentleman and a Christian—the same way you should treat all men: with the respect due them as children of God. That includes the person you see in the mirror, David. This may not be the form we would have chosen for ourselves, but it is the form God chose to give us.Remember, vanity is a mortal sin.” Joseph glanced again at his own reflection in the window panes. “In a way, God has blessed us. There have been saints whoprayedfor ugliness, so that no one would desire them and they could offer themselves completely to God. For now, I urge you to remember the advice Saint Paul gave to the Corinthians: However humble, our bodies are the temples of the Holy Ghost. Will you promise me, David, not to harm yourself again?”
Timidly, the boy met his gaze. “Yes, Father.”
“I will ask one final thing of you, David. You must apologize to Tessa and your sister.”
His nephew followed him into the hall. Sophie was hovering near her threshold. Joseph led her by the hand down the stairs. They found Tessa in the parlor.
David murmured: “I’m sorry I destroyed the mirror. I’m sorry I frightened you. Can you forgive me?”
“Of course we do!” Tessa knelt down to him and clasped his good hand. “But why?—”
Joseph cleared his throat. “It’s best to put it behind us.”
Tessa frowned at him.
Joseph knew she wanted an explanation for the boy’s behavior. He couldn’t give her one.
She looked back to David. “It wasn’t because you’re unhappy here?” Tessa hesitated. “If you want to live with your grandfather instead… Please understand: I want you to stay, but if you’re lonely or uncomfortable…”
David shook his head. “I’m not— I want them back, but it’s notyourfault. I want to stay.”
“Ilike it here,” Sophie put in, clutching Mignon. Tessa smiled with relief and hugged girl and kitten both.
“Now, what did you want to say to me earlier,ma petite?” Joseph asked his niece.
Sophie glanced at David, then lowered her eyes. “Um… I…” When she found her words, they came in a rush. “God says we should honor our father and mother. Is it a sin if I love Aunt Tessa as much as I loved Mama?”
Joseph laughed. “Love isnevera sin,” he assured Sophie. “And Tessa is your foster-mother, so the Commandment applies to her as well. Youshouldlove and honor Tessa. And Mr. Stratford.” Edward had not given the children permission to use his Christian name. “Does that answer your question?”
