“I’m hoping and praying for my child to come into this world alive, whole, healthy, and safe, but I’m also praying for a girl, since I’ve always dreamt of having one.”
“What does Robert think of it?”
“Don’t ask. I’ve been so annoyed by him lately. Ma says it’s the babe. We shall see.”
“Poor Robert,” Lizzie felt for the kind man, but also knew that he was perfectly capable of handling whatever her fiery friend could rain on him.
“Poor I,” Mary retorted indignantly, but then they both burst out laughing, and Lizzie felt something in her chest ease. “Speaking of poor, tortured men, how’syourhusband?”
It was Lizzie’s turn to feign indignation. Her husband was many things, but surely not poor and tortured. He was a villain, a scoundrel!
“That foolish man,” she said, feeling like she’d exhausted all she had to tell her friend about him.
“I like him more now than I did before,” Mary said seriously, “he’s becoming worthy of you.”
Elizabeth stared at the tiny pearls on the decorative pillow she’d been working on, trying not to cry. Mary had always been unwavering in her earnest conviction that Lizzie was all that was good and dear and interesting in the world, and had always told her that any man would be blessed to have her for a wife.
Lizzie was surprised to find herself doubting her friend’s opinion less than ever before. How did that happen?
Mary sensed the change in her, so she nonchalantly added, “But if you want to leave him and scandalously abscond with my brother, I shall help you. I remember how you used to follow Thomas around,” she teased.
Red-faced with childish embarrassment, Lizzie fisted her hands and protested, “I did not!”
“Oh, but you did. For a while, at least.” Mary seemed on the verge of saying something else, but stopped herself.
Lizzie had always suspected that Mister Ed and Thomas had confided in their family about the events of that dreadful day in the Park, but none of the Barlows had ever directly spoken to her about it, and she was beyond grateful for that kindness.
It was as if they could sense the pain and shame the memory held for her and respected her need to keep it buried, lest it bury her. But ever since she’d confided in Colin about it, it felt likeshe’d drained an infected boil and had finally found some relief from the constant pain.
“You know why I stopped,” she found herself saying and looked up at her friend, who looked stricken.
“I do,” Mary nodded. “And I hope you don’t mind me saying that your Pa was a pig.”
The laugh that broke from Lizzie’s chest took her by surprise, and Mary grinned proudly.
Now that she had two people she cared about acknowledge that she had been wronged by her father, Elizabeth could start believing it herself, instead of always doubting whether she had somehow caused him to turn away from her.
“That, he was,” Lizzie agreed, and they went back to their needlework.
*
That night, after dinner, Elizabeth went into the library for the first time since the night before the duel. As she remembered walking that hallway with Colin that night, a silly superstition struck her, and she started worrying that another horrible thing would happen after her visit, like it had last time.
She told herself she’d do things differently tonight, just in case. She kept her head down to avoid looking at the paintings and immediately went and sat down at Colin’s desk, which was surprisingly disordered.
“Aristotle,” she muttered to herself as she looked through everything.
On the desk, were three books (travel, logic, history), several pens and two silver inkwells, and several sheets of paper that looked like an unfinished letter, filled with writing that had beenalmost violently crossed out in several places. Parts of the letter were completely blacked out. He’d clearly been very frustrated while composing this.
Elizabeth couldn’t help herself; she felt she had to peek through this window into her husband’s mind. She quickly leafed through the papers, afraid someone would come in.
Dear Lord Speaker,
esteemed members of Parliament,
…horrifying conditions … gruesome injuries … under 9 years of age
misery & degradation … I am forever unable to look away
