Lose what?
The shell of the person I once was.
A wild child forced to live so carefully.
A target made to endure wounds from dragons like Mrs. Carter.
I shook my head with some violence. That was despair. That wasn’t me. I lived. I knew my truth. I was grateful that I wasn’t what the gossips said. But every day was a battle. If I made it out the door, Fournier’s front door, I was a winner, today’s lucky winner.
“You, my lovely sister, will visit often. You will stay late and drink tea in my very own parlor. You will read me and Chris Shakespeare.”
The smile on Ester’s cherub face blossomed. “That will be wonderful. We could do that here. Tonight? I know I haven’t been as supportive as I should, with the baby and my husband running for Parliament, but—”
“Please stop.” Shrugging my shoulders, I rubbed my thumb along my nephew’s smooth cheek. “Your priorities are good. Josiah is looking stronger. He’ll be crawling soon.”
“Please, Ruth. You’re my sister. I want us to be close again. I love you and my nephew. I don’t want you two to go.”
“Little Chris is everything, so full of curiosity, so sweet. I need him settled in a new situation, something less crowded. Something of my own where I can count my steps and know things won’t change. My slippers won’t move from the spot I put them. And clocks, my clocks will sound as loud as possible.”
“Marriage to Barrister Marks does that? My Bex says he’s a good man, honorable, a fighter for abolition, but he works a lot.”
“Yes. Yes, that’s perfect for me.”
“Mr. Marks will stay away long hours, and your sight isn’t better. Chris is so active.”
That was Ester’s polite way of saying I’d be blind, that darkness was coming for me. Another judgement for the sins I didn’t commit. Eloping could never equal Adam’s brutal death and all the things done to me.
I am dwelling again.This is my personal trap to keep me here, not venturing outside and gaining my proof.
“Ester, sweet Ester. Nothing has stopped the shrinking of my sight, but I’ve made an amiable truce with my faltering vision. I’m learning how to manage. Adam used to count…I will be fine, and Chris will be great. You and yours will be my honored guests.”
I reached and smoothed the wrinkles forming on Ester’s brow. “I get fewer headaches without the lenses, and I don’t have to see sadness on cute faces like yours. There are benefits.”
Ester didn’t say anything, she just cooed at Josiah.
There wasn’t much to say.
I loved my sister, but this was my truth. My pile of spectacles on my bed table attested to it. And Croomes needed proof, undeniable proof to believe anything. That was another of my truths.
My wool fell when Ester pulled me and Josiah tight against her.
“Sorry, Ruth.”
I kissed her cheek. “Once I’m married and secure, we’ll have those Tuesday teas like Mama. I won’t make you knit.”
Mrs. Fitterwall came down the steps from the upper rooms. “Time for Josiah’s nap. Your heavy shawl is on the table at the front, Mrs. Bexeley. Your coat, too, Mrs. Wilky. Here are your spectacles.”
The woman shoved her open palm close to my face.
I was livid. I knew her hand was near. I knew how the red-haired housekeeper moved, like there was a crook in her neck from not stretching.
I didn’t complain. Maybe she thought she was helping, holding my crystal spectacles three inches from my face. “Thank you.”
I put the heavy lenses on my nose. Spotting my yarn, I scooped it up. I knew the answer already, but I asked anyway. “Where are you going, Ester?”
“Yes, where, Mrs. Fitterwall?” Ester’s prim mouth was open wide.
“With your sister, silly goose. That’s what Mrs. Croome said.”
