I know by the time you read this I will be on the road. I hope that I will be far enough away that you will not be able to catch up with me, though I do not doubt you will try. I know your heart well enough by now to know that you would always look for me.
You and I both know the truth of the matter. You can never marry a maid, and I will not stay to be your mistress when I now have another to think of, another to put first.
Yes, the secret I could not find the courage to tell you last night when I laid in your arms is that I am carrying our child. It is for that child’s sake that I will now leave. He deserves to growup somewhere far away from a world where he is labeled an illegitimate son. He deserves respect and kindness. I know you would agree with me on that, though you may not like the way I have gone about this. Knowing you, I imagine you will rant and rage in that large house of yours, furious that we are now gone, but trust in me, my love. This is for the best.
I must go.
I will write to you when I can, to let you know how we are faring together. There is one more thing I’d like to say to you before I sign off.
I love you. In some way, I think I always did from the first day that I started working at your parents’ house. For as long as I love you, I shall treasure the gift you gave me of that ruby necklace. Know that I will never sell it, for to me, it is your heart that I carry with me.
Goodbye, my love.
She signed off, the handwriting even shakier than elsewhere in the letter. Evidently, writing these final words had been very hard indeed.
Feeling both numb and overwhelmed by what he had read in his mother’s letters, he slumped back in his chair.
He let the final letter drop to the desk, his eyes flitting between all the curled-up pages. His father had kept them all, his wholelife. What was more, his father had kept them tied up in a red ribbon, tucked away where no one could find them, though he would not part with them.
“They always loved each other, dinnae they?” he whispered aloud, as though the air would answer him. “Until their dyin’ days.”
Charlotte tore into the house. She stumbled on the threshold in her haste, nearly falling flat on her face. There was a large lump in her throat, as behind her, she heard Harry and Rose following.
The pair of them were still arguing, though the manner of their argument had changed ever since Charlotte’s uncontrolled outburst.
“Look what you did,” Harry threw the words at Rose.
“Me? You started it all. You’re always out to cause trouble. Always. Why did you throw my book in the river?”
“I dropped it in the end because you tackled me.”
“You threw it in!”
“Did not.”
Charlotte stumbled through the hallway a little more, this uncontrollable rage still consuming her entire body. She wanted nothing more than to reach her chamber and hide from the world, but then another sound brought her to a sharp stop.
“David!” Margaret wailed.
They are having another argument.
Charlotte did her best to ignore her siblings’ argument as she hastened toward the doorway of the living room, peering inside.
“Come off it, Maggie,” David said, leaning back in his armchair and doing his best to raise the newspaper up over his face.
“Why is it you always disappear behind that thing whenever we are arguing?” Margaret tried to snatch the newspaper away.
“Perhaps because it doesn’t shout at me as you do, love.” He jerked the paper up another time, hiding completely.
“Harry!” Rose squealed for what felt to Charlotte like the fiftieth time that day. Harry had now stolen her shawl and was dancing about the entrance hall with it. “We’re in enough trouble as it is with Charlotte.”
“She doesn’t frighten me.”
“She frightens me!” Rose attempted to take the shawl back but fell onto their hall table, making it clatter loudly.
A porcelain vase rolled toward the edge of the hall table. Charlotte ran toward it and narrowly caught it in time.
“What is all this commotion?” Margaret shouted, leaving the living room and coming to look at them all. “See? This is the influence you have on your children,” Margaret wailed, pointing between Harry and Rose.
