Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“I have received a proposal from the local baker, and I was wondering if I should perhaps consider it.” Ophelia looked up from the book opened in front of her, her eyes wide as she registered her mother’s words.

A proposal from the local baker?

“What kind of a proposal?” she asked, even though she knew exactly what her mother meant. Since her father’s demise, her mother, who was still beautiful and exceedingly bright in her forties, had received several proposals from many widowers and older men about Kent. The baker was neither the first nor the last.

“He wishes to marry me.”

“And do you wish to marry him?” Ophelia knew the answer to this as well.

“My wishes hardly matter in this regard, my darling.” Her mother sighed, a sad smile gracing her lips. Ophelia looked closely, the extreme exhaustion on her mother’s face apparent. It was not simply exhaustion from doing work around the house but also the utter exhaustion she had undergone in the past four years since her father, Viscount Lockwood, passed away.

“Your wishes matter the most, Mother,” Ophelia insisted, holding both her mother’s hands across the kitchen counter, which also served as their dining table during meal times.

“We need the finances, Ophelia.”

What gave her the most sorrow was she knew her mother was right. For the past four years, they had suffered immensely, their funds rapidly dwindling. Whatever they had left now would not be enough for the whole year, and they would submerge into complete poverty.

How had life turned from a mansion in Hastings to a cottage in Kent? Ophelia did not understand.

She looked up at her mother once again, silently sipping her tea as she stared out into space even though her eyes rested on her three other children sitting in the small living room attached to the kitchen. Ophelia, too, turned around to look at Andrew, her three-year-old brother, playing by himself from some pieces of broken wood. Amelia and Sarah, her sisters, just fourteen and sixteen, were busy talking in whispers, both of them smiling.

It was heart-warming for Ophelia to see someone laughing despite the circumstances that had fallen upon them.

“Mother?” she turned back towards her mother, who had always been praised for her unmatched beauty. Ophelia had taken after her father but was still quite beautiful in her unique way. Amelia and Sarah, on the other hand, were exactly like their mother.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Are you considering the proposal seriously, then?” she asked, sighing deeply.

The burly form of the baker came into her mind, his pot belly hiding under the lumpy velvet coat he insisted on wearing no matter what the weather was. Inside his bakery, he was always dressed in simple shirts, the buttons open to his stomach, showing things no one wanted to see.

However, what truly disturbed her was certainly not the physical appearance of the baker because that was something one could overlook entirely. What perturbed her was his unkind attitude and sour mood, which was so in contrast to her deceased father that Ophelia could never see her mother married to a man such as him. Her mother represented kindness and warmth, while the baker was the exact opposite of it all.

Ophelia did not even wish to picture them together.

“We have no money left, Ophelia.” The sadness in her mother’s voice was apparent, but she kept her voice deliberately low to keep the information from the other children. Ophelia was the only one who was aware of her mother’s troubles, and she wanted to do nothing more but somehow be of help.

“None at all?”

“A few months at best.” Her mother shrugged. “If everything had not been taken away from us, things would have been okay. Now, I am just a dowager viscountess, and you are the children of a viscount but without the money and resources which were rightfully ours. We have been left with nothing, and you know that.”

The simple fact that her mother was desperate enough even to consider such a proposal was enough indication for Ophelia that things were truly awful. In the past few years, her mother had been holding her own by doing small jobs and Ophelia had been helping her by doing the same. However, now, no small jobs would be able to help them since the financial instability was constantly growing.

“You cannot marry that man, Mama.” She shook her head, completely dismissing the idea. “I will not let you go to such extreme measures. We will think of something or other to step out of this hole, but under no circumstances will I let you marry someone as selfish and unkind as that baker.”

“You do not understand, Ophelia.” Her mother shook her head. “I have to give you three a good life, and with no money, that will be impossible. Andrew will eventually grow into a young boy and will need to pursue a gentleman’s education just the way your father wished him to. How will we support that? How can we send him to Eton if we have no funds?”

Ophelia sighed. Her mother was right. Despite that, it did not mean Ophelia would let her make this large a sacrifice.

“Mama, I know how important a formal education was for father, but it does not mean that to provide that for Andrew, you have to marry someone you do not love. That is something I cannot allow you to do. It will break you, and in turn, it will break us as a family,” Ophelia insisted, a tear falling down her face.

“It’s not just Andrew, Ophelia. Sarah expressed her desire to become a teacher, and to pursue a teacher’s education, she, too, will need to go to school. Amelia wishes to get married, and we must have some money set aside for that,” her mother explained, controlling tears of her own. You must have some hopes and wishes as well, my darling. You are just twenty and so young. How can I take away your life from you? I want all of my daughters to make good matches in marriage and how will you be able to do that if we have no money for survival?”

“You have done everything to give us a good life even after Father passed away,” Ophelia reasoned, “if anything, I am grateful to you. But now, please let me try to help you so we can step out of this situation without you succumbing to a loveless marriage.”

“How? You know we cannot ask your Uncle Edgar for anything.”

The mere mention of his name was enough for Ophelia to feel angry all over again. Everything that had gone south in their lives was after the arrival of Uncle Edgar, their father’s younger brother. After their father had passed away suddenly, leaving them alone in the world, Uncle Edgar had become the viscount and had taken everything away from them.

Their wealth.

Their house.

Their life.

Their position in society.

Their happiness.

And most of all, the happy memories they had of their father in the house they had grown up in.

He had deprived them in a way where Ophelia was sure she would never be able to forgive him for all he had done. While they had been forced to move out of their home and shift into a cottage meant for housekeepers and nannies, he did not even occupy the main house and left it under the supervision of maids while he stayed away in Hastings. The least he could have done was allow them to stay, but he refused even this small luxury.

“We won’t ever ask him for anything,” Ophelia said resolutely, trying to control the anger coursing through her.

“Do we have any other choice? If I do not remarry, we will certainly not be able to afford food very soon,” her mother reasoned. But even though Ophelia knew she was right, she was determined not to let it happen. She would go to any lengths to protect her mother from the utter ruin she was planning to throw herself into. This was her duty as her father’s daughter, and she was not going to disappoint.

“Mother, do you trust me?”

“Absolutely, I do.” She smiled, squeezing Ophelia’s hand tightly.

“Then have a little faith in my word. I promise we will figure something out. We will work out a plan where you won’t have to sacrifice yourself.”

“What will you do, Ophelia?”

“I do not know that yet, but I am sure I will be able to find a job as a nanny or a governess to someone from the nobility,” she said, smiling with determination shining in her hazel eyes, “And if not this, I will still be able to do something. Our lives have been snatched away from us, but I will not let my brother and sister suffer through it.”

“I trust you,” her mother reassured her, and Ophelia knew with her mother’s faith, she just might find a solution to this problem.

She absolutely had to.

***

A knock on his study door forced Edward to stop his insistent pacing and stare at the closed wooden barrier between him and whoever was outside it. He had no desire to see anyone, but he had already been locked up inside since this morning and could not continue to ignore the world outside forever.

Had he been just anyone and not the Earl of Sommers, he could have stayed locked inside without anyone asking for him.

His title deprived him of the luxury of being invisible, even though all he wanted to be was just that. Invisible and unseen to anyone and everyone, at least until he wanted to emerge himself. Whenever that might be.

“It’s open,” he said loudly, walking towards the bar and opening the almost empty decanter of Scotch on the counter.

The door creaked open behind him, but he did not turn around, patiently pouring his Scotch into the glass from which he had already been drinking. How many glasses did he have since this morning? He could hardly recall. He needed to control his drinking, but the present condition he was trapped in did not give him a reason to do that either. He needed to forget. And what was better than Scotch?

“My Lord?”

“Yes, Mrs Bailey?” Edward asked, finally turning around to stare at the woman he had expected all along. She was old enough to be his mother and was always dressed in varying shades of grey, her appearance modest.

Edward had nothing against her, but he simply could not help creating distance between him and the world.

“I just came to inform you that Miss Amy has fallen asleep soundly, just like she does every night. She is a very calm child but gets fussy at times, considering she has no mother and no warmth in the world despite being as young as just two months old.”

Edward sighed deeply, unsure what he was supposed to do with this information. He did not care.

He did not care if his two-month-old niece, Amy, was well-fed or had slept on time. Yet, Mrs Bailey made an effort to provide him with every little detail of her day as if, as her guardian, he needed to know these things. His sister had died and had left him as the guardian of her one-month-old daughter.

His sister had died.

She was no more. And it had just been one month. All of it was extremely hard for Edward to believe and absorb, the wounds on his chest still fresh.

“Did I ask, Mrs Bailey?” He did not try to hide his annoyance through his words, making sure the housekeeper knew how he felt.

“It is my duty to inform you what is going on with the child since she is your niece, My Lord. She was completely fine all day, but she cried all evening and was checked by the village physician, but she is alright. He made her a potion, and now she is sound asleep,” she replied, not one bit affected by Edward’s sour attitude. He wondered if she had become so used to it in the past month that it hardly affected her anymore.

“I do not care,” he replied, emptying the glass in his hands in one gulp and slapping it back on the bar counter, “please do not come and waste my time with useless information regarding Amy. I am sure you are taking good care of her, which is all I actually need to know.”

“I have to discuss something important with you regarding Miss Amy, My Lord. Things are not as good as you think they are,” she added, and Edward sighed deeply. Was he even capable of having such a mature conversation?

It had been the entry of his niece into his life that had taken away his carefree bachelor’s life and handed him the responsibility of a child. His world has fallen apart entirely, and everything about his position had changed. He could not help disliking the little girl even if she had done nothing. It was her mere presence that had turned into trouble.

“What is it?”

“We cannot continue the way we are going on with Miss Amy right now. It is unfair and unhealthy for a child as young as her who requires proper care by someone who has cared for children earlier and is both kind and responsible. A child is a lot of work.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, unable to understand.

“Miss Amy keeps being palmed off from servant to servant every day and night and cannot find motherly love and affection in this manner. The child is being deprived of the basic care she requires, which is beginning to show in her behaviour.”

“And what can I do about that?”

“We must hire a nanny for her to have a proper routine and just one person taking care of her. This will be much better for everyone in the household. The little girl must have some semblance of stability in her already turbulent life, and we must play an active part in ensuring it,” Mrs Bailey went on, staring Edward straight in the eyes, “both you and us.”

What is that supposed to mean?

However, the questions spilling from her eyes were enough to give Edward an idea of what she really wanted to say to him. Like every other servant in the household, every maid had been gossiping about what might be happening inside the main house and why Edward behaved this cruelly with a little girl. His mood yesterday had been sour with everyone; hence, everyone recognized this change. He had never been this way before. This one incident had changed him.

Completely.

He had heard them whispering about how, as her uncle and only guardian, it was his duty to take care of her and spend time with her, although he would never be able to do that. Not with Amy. His sister had left this world, and Amy possessed a part of her, but Edward would never be able to access it. He had never come close to her, not even after she grew up and became a young woman.

“So you wish to hire a nanny to take care of Amy?”

“I believe that is the necessary course of action, My Lord, and the only one which might help Miss Amy grow and nourish in a healthier manner.”

“Well then that shall be done.” Edward nodded, entirely uninterested in the whole matter. “Do whatever is necessary. If you believe you must conduct interviews for the position, you can always advertise in the newspaper. Or if you already know someone, you can hire them.”

“I will conduct interviews for the position, My Lord,” Mrs Bailey replied formally, turning around with a curtsy before leaving the study. Edward watched as the door closed behind her, leaving him all alone with his grief yet again.

My grief. Will it ever lessen?

How could he ever forget the loss of his dear sister, one he loved and had the most precious childhood memories of? How could he be expected to emerge from that loss in the span of a month and focus all of his strength on taking care of a child?

A child.

She is just a child. A two-month-old baby. How can I be this mean to her? How could I have turned into the terrible person who has consumed my entire personality and filled me with unimaginable hatred towards an innocent little girl?

Edward truly wished he could explain this to himself or perhaps explain it to the servants, but it was impossible. They judged him for being cruel to his own niece, and they would forever do so since Edward had neither the heart nor the will to open up to the girl. He simply couldn’t.

He sunk into the sofa, the darkness and solitude of the study feeling like a burden. Tears began to fall down his face uncontrollably as he once again remembered Margaret, his beautiful sister.

He was an awful man. He knew it.

I wish I could have you back for a few minutes, Margaret. I wish I could talk to you once before you left this world.

The choice had never been his to make. He placed both his hands on his head, his headache returning. He wanted to find a cure for his grief.

But there were none.