“Think nothing o’ it, lass. I ken that ye are grieving and that ye may nae find comfort in the same things that yer faither or I have in years past. Ye are yer own person, with a heart as pure and lovely as ever I have seen in my long life, much as yer own dear sweet maither had afore ye. It is such thoughts that led me tae think o’ this passage from the old English poem by Thomas Malory’sLe Morte d’Arthur.”
“What is it?”
Mrs. McGrath handed Cleo her father’s book opened to a well-worn page. “It is yer faither’s favorite. It was the code he chose tae live by. I thought perhaps it might bring ye more comfort than last night did.”
Cleo looked down at the book where her father had made a mark upon the page and her heart swelled at the beauty of the words before her.
“This is the oath of a Knight of King Arthur's Round Table and should be for all of us to take to heart. I will develop my life for the greater good. I will place character above riches, and concern for others above personal wealth, I will never boast, but cherish humility instead, I will speak the truth at all times, and forever keep my word, I will defend those who cannot defend themselves, I will honor and respect women, I will uphold justice by being fair to all, I will be faithful in love and loyal in friendship, I will abhor scandals and gossip–neither partake nor delight in them, I will be generous to the poor and to those who need help, I will forgive when asked, that my own mistakes will be forgiven, I will live my life with courtesy and honor from this day forward.”
“That was Father in every way,” she whispered reverently as she clutched the book to her chest.
“Aye, it was himself tae be certain, and it is ye as well. Ye have his heart. He lives on in ye. Ne’er forget that, lass.”
“Thank you, Mrs. McGrath. Thank you so very much for this and for staying with me.”
“It is my honor and my joy, my dear, now and always.” Mrs. McGrath left the room to return to the kitchen.
Cleo took her time breaking the fast and dressing for the day. She was in no rush to face the world, but Mrs. McGrath’s efforts had given her the strength to do what was needed, to arise and breathe, to seek justice, to live another day. Descending the stairs, Cleo was startled out of her reverie by a knock at the door. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that it might be Arthur at the door. Checking her reflection in the looking glass, she quickly turned to open the door.
“My Lord,” she greeted Brandon Chapman, the Earl of Dustshore, with surprise. “What brings you to our humble abode?”
“Miss Wallace,” Dustshore bowed slightly in greeting. “I wished to see how you were faring after your father’s burial. I could see that his death had greatly affected you and I did not feel right about leaving you to grieve alone.”
“That is most kind of you, My Lord. Please, come in.” Cleo moved back and allowed the Earl of Dustshore to enter the house, then led him into the drawing room.
Mrs. McGrath entered the room and her brows raised in surprise at the sight of the Earl of Dustshore. “My Lord.”
“Mrs. McGrath, it is good to see you again,” Dustshore greeted kindly.
“I will bring ye both some tea,” the cook answered and scurried from the room.
“Tea would be lovely,” he answered to the cook’s retreating back with a smile. He turned his eyes back to Cleo’s face and the smile took on a note of affection. “I remember Mrs. McGrath from when I was but a young boy. My father and yours were such good friends for so long. I have such fond memories of his visits to our family estate.”
“Mrs. McGrath is a treasure to be certain. I would not know what to do without her.”
“I understood that your aunt was to come to stay with you?”
“Yes, but she is not here presently. She had some final matters to attend to at her own home. She will return quite soon, I am sure.”
“I will pay a call upon her when she returns. My father always had a fondness for your aunt, a lovely woman.”
Cleo smiled. “She is indeed and would be delighted to hear you say so. She would be equally delighted to have you to tea upon her return, or perhaps dinner if you were able. My aunt finds great joy in hosting such things for her friends and family.” Cleo offered the invitation knowing that her aunt would be quite cross with her if she did not do so.
“It would be my honor, Miss Wallace. With Mother and Father gone, it would be a pleasure to spend time with such dear family friends. I am only sorry that your father did not bring you with him on his visits to Dustshore.”
Cleo nodded. “After losing Mother, Father was quite protective and did not take me any farther than the bounds of our lovely town and only then with accompaniment.”
“I can understand how he would feel that way after such a loss. Were you mine, I would also wish to protect you at all costs.” The tone of his voice and the way he was looking at Cleo made her blush.
“He was a wonderful father and I miss him dearly.”
Mrs. McGrath returned with the promised tea breaking up the awkward moment. She had also brought a plate of scones and sweet biscuits to fill the empty spaces. Cleo and Dustshore spent the next hour taking tea and talking about their respective lives. The Earl was charming, but Cleo could not help thinking that he was not Arthur. Cleo tried to remind herself that she could not trust anyone, including Arthur, but she could not help being sucked in by his strength and caring.
The conversation moved to matters of academia and they spoke of history, linguistics, and literature. Cleo shared with him what the passage fromLe Morte d’Arthurhad done to aid her in bearing the loss of her father, how it had exemplified his spirit. “It was as if the sun had peaked out from behind the clouds and gifted me with the smallest ray of light.”
“I am glad that you were able to find such comfort. I must admit that I quite lost myself in the works of Julius Caesar after my father died. It was one of his favorites and I read it to him as he lay upon his sick bed. Literature can bring such solace in the dark times that we must all endure.”
“I am discovering that.”
