Chapter 13
The next morning,Susan and Elizabeth were in the girl’s room where she was receiving instruction in the alphabet using wooden blocks with letters on the sides. They were arranging the letters into various simple words and Elizabeth’s little hands were deftly rearranging the blocks to make new words that Susansuggested.
There was a knock at the door and John cameinside.
“Good morning to you both. May I see what you two are doing?” heasked.
“Of course, Your Grace. We are doing our ABC’s and beginning to form words.” She turned to Elizabeth. “Show yourfather.”
Elizabeth looked up at John, and then turned to the blocks and spelled out his name. “That’s you,” she saidbeaming.
“Well, aren’t you the clever one. That is me indeed. Now can you spell out your name? It’s a littlelonger.”
Elizabeth immediately rearranged some of the blocks and there was hername.
John kneeled down and put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and studied her for amoment.
“How like your mother you are,” he saidsoftly.
Elizabeth turned to him and asked, “Is Miss Susan my new mommynow?”
Both Susan and John were startled and exchanged quickglances.
“No, Honey,” Susan quickly said. “I’m your teacher, and I certainly care about you, but I’m not yourmother.”
“Why not? If you care for me then why can’t you be mymommy?”
“It doesn’t work that way. I’ll explain it to you later,” Susan saidgently.
When Susan turned to John she caught him looking at her with the sweetestsmile.
“I’m sorry,” she said blushingslightly.
“Nothing to be sorry for. Out of the mouth of babes…” John said, but now he had a troubled look and stood. “I best be going,” he said and then directly left theroom.
Susan could see he’d been upset by his daughter’s comments. She hoped it would not sour John against her. He’d made an effort to support his daughter and she was happy for that. Perhaps over time, he would continue to warm towardher.
* * *
After leaving the nursery,John went to his bedroom and paced. He stood for a moment overlooking the park. It usually brought him peace, but now he was still disquieted. He couldn’t get his innocent daughter’s comments out of his mind. Of course, she had no memory of her mother like he did, and, as nonsensical as it was, he resented his own daughter—again—and just when he was starting to warm toher.
John was hurt. John was angry, and he couldn’t understand why. Finally, he went to the armoire where Annabel’s clothes were still stored. He threw open the doors and began throwing her dresses, gowns, robes, and accessories onto the floor. Instinctively he knew he needed to rid himself of the clutching memories these clothes represented. It was painful, but it was also liberating. He needed to move on and his reaction to his daughter’s words had triggered something inside him. And, as he rid himself of her clothing, he began to feel a warmingrelease.
He dashed out of his room and searched for Standish, finding him in the diningroom
“Standish…”
“YourGrace?”
“I’ve made a mess in my bedroom. Please take everything of my wife’s away. I don’t care what you do with them. I just never want to see any of it ever again.Understand?”
Standish nodded. “Ido.”
John left, went to the stable, saddled his horse—not waiting for the groom—and galloped out across his openfields.
* * *
Later that afternoon,as Elizabeth was having her nap, Susan went to see AuntClarissa.
