Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Though the idea came to Evangeline quite soon afterward, no opportunity to help Basil presented itself during the next few days. But Basil was doing plenty to help her. Her swimming improved quickly, her fears waning as her confidence waxed with practice and Basil's encouragement.

Adele soon joined them at the river and took her mother's place in the water. Evangeline's heart melted at the way Basil handled her enthusiastic daughter, teasing and praising by turns. Faster than she would have believed, Adele was swimming like a fish.

Always, Basil was invited to dine. On the days he accepted, he took his leave promptly after the children were sent to bed, leaving Evangeline and her older daughters to themselves. When Evangeline offered, one sultry day in August, he declined at first, but relented as both she and Adele pressed him.

"You will come early? There is something I should like to show you. It is of some importance, to me at all events," Evangeline said. "Will you not come? "

Basil bowed his head. "When you put it that way, how could I refuse?"

And so, arriving an hour early, Basil came to Amsbrook, curious but willing. Evangeline took him by the hand. "Come with me."

Basil looked a question but allowed himself to be led into the garden. She hardly knew where she found the courage to show him what had always been her little secret place, but perhaps it would comfort him. She knew it would comfort him.

"I have a place like this at Sherborne Abbey as well, but since I am not in the habit of going there often, I made a place here too."

"What place? What are you talking about?"

"You will see."

She led him to a little spinney just outside the gate of her well-manicured garden on the south side. She stopped at a certain tree. "Do you see anything?" she asked.

Basil narrowed an eye at her before turning his head here and there, searching the vicinity. "What is it I am looking for, exactly?"

"Anything out of the ordinary."

Unless one was looking for it, the sparkling and shining trinkets in the tree, hung by gleaming ribbons of satin, would be overlooked. There were four of them, and they were well hidden in the summer leaves.

Basil's expression opened into one of discovery. He had found one. "There," he said, pointing up at the branches above them.

Evangeline tilted her head to see which one he had found. His finger pointed to a silver rattle that hung on a twig with a yellow ribbon. "Joanna. Very good."

"Joanna? "

"That is Joanna, yes. And just over there, to the left…you see?"

Basil's eyes flitted here and there through the branches and leaves. Evangeline smiled timidly as he picked out each of the four trinkets she had hung up: a rattle, a little toy canon, a ragdoll, and a carved wooden bird.

"What is this, E?" he asked. "Do they all have names?"

She nodded and pointed at each one. "Joanna, Matthew, Lydia and Caroline. This is where I come when I wish to visit my little lost ones." Her throat constricted with emotion, but she managed to whisper, "My babies and stillborns."

The air stilled around them. She waited to see how he would respond, but he only stared at the trinkets shimmering in the breeze.

"I find it difficult to visit their graves as well," she continued, her words coming faster and faster. "They are all at Sherborne, and even there it was difficult. I don't quite know where the idea came from, but one day, soon after losing Caroline to fever, I was walking the grounds with that little wooden bird in my hands. I came to a favorite tree of mine and placed it on a twig with a bit of ribbon. It looked so sweet and lively there, dangling and twirling around, I decided to do it for the rest of them. It is unconventional, I know. I have never told anyone about it. Not Ramsbury. Certainly not our vicar."

Basil's lips pressed together, his jaw working, but he remained silent. A moment later she felt his hand slide into hers. "This is a beautiful idea, Evangeline," he said at last in a thick voice.

Evangeline squeezed his hand in response. "I am glad you think so."

A tear escaped his eye. "Do you believe you will ever see them again? That you will even recognize them if you do?"

His words struck Evangeline to the core. Ready tears came to her eyes as she tried to contemplate, or even comprehend, the magnitude of the question. "I do not know. I know they are in heaven, and I know I shall go to heaven, God willing. I want to believe I will. I do not think that such a love as I have for my lost children can be in vain. Though they be dead, I still love them dearly, and I think I shall still love them after I die. You can take love with you to heaven, do you not think so?"

"I hope so," he whispered.

Of one accord, they both leaned into each other, and there they stood for some time, gleaning strength from one another as they watched the tributes to her lost children dance in the breeze and sparkle and gleam when the sunlight caught them through the leaves. Evangeline had never felt such peace here as she did now. Having someone else to share what she had kept secret for so long, afraid of condemnation or mockery, was a balm to a part of her soul that would forever be affected by her lost ones. How she wished she could give Basil even a little of this peace.

"Do you think Lizzie would like a place here as well?" she asked softly.

That was the undoing of Basil Morley. He covered his mouth with a hand to choke back a sob before bending over and crushing Evangeline between his arms. She clasped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck as he strove to regain control of himself. She did not move, but wove her fingers in and out of his hair, waiting, comforting.

A few moments passed. Basil sniffed. "I think she would like that."

Evangeline pulled herself away enough to look into his eyes. She took his face in her hands. "I would like that too," she said, and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before holding him close again.

Evangeline sat with her daughters in the drawing room late into the evening. Charlotte had started reading aloud a volume of The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman after the younger children retired, and the ladies of the house were content to continue the comical book while Ettie and Evangeline worked at their stitchery.

Basil had not stayed long after dinner. He had whispered to Evangeline that he should like some time to think before he came back. She did not know how long he meant to stay away but did not ask for particulars. She need not press him. He would come back.

As the clock struck half-past eleven, Charlotte covered with a hand the last of several yawns that had increased in number as the night progressed. "My voice is spent. I am so tired."

"I do not wonder at it. You have been entertaining us for so long," Evangeline said. "We must all of us get to our beds."

"I shall not complain," Ettie said, smiling as she tucked her needle and thread into the work basket at her side. "Mama?"

"Yes, sweet?"

Ettie glanced at Charlotte. Charlotte gave a tiny shake of her head.

Evangeline, set to rise from her chair, stilled. "What is it?" she asked, though she could guess.

Ettie, hesitant after Charlotte's gesture, said. "Mama, are we right in thinking we will have a new papa soon?"

Charlotte bit her lip and leaned her back against her chair, tapping a finger on her leg.

Evangeline folded her hands in her lap, prepared for a long stay. "Do you like him?"

"Do you like him?" Charlotte asked. "But that is silly of me to ask. Of course you like him. He would not be here if you did not."

"You are very keen, my dear. Yes, I confess I do like him. I have always liked him. We have been friends for, oh, forever, it seems."

"I like him as well," Ettie said. "He makes things so lively here. The boys would not mind him as a papa, I think. And Adele adores him."

Evangeline would give much to see how Basil would take being called ‘papa.' She had to hold back a smile. "Things are by no means certain. Mr. Morley has not asked me to marry him."

Recently, anyway.

Charlotte quirked her brows. "But if he asks you?"

What could Evangeline say? She did not just like Basil, as she had just said. She loved him. When he proposed again, she would say yes, even if he spoke in jest. She could just see the look on his face.

But a shift had happened. They were not as they had once been. Curtains had been pulled back on both sides. Evangeline felt closer to him than ever before, loving him for his quiet charities, stemmed from an aching heart, hidden away from the world for too long. He was in no humor to propose just now, she was sure. He needed to tend to his grief, and that would take time.

She would wait though, and gladly. She would do her best to make permanent the happiness she had discovered with him. "If he should ask me, I think I should like to marry him. Very much."

It was not that simple, however. Evangeline knew it. So did Ettie and Charlotte.

"But what would Henry say?" Ettie asked, saying aloud what they were all thinking.

Wheels and hooves shuffling and crunching against the drive met their ears just then. Evangeline looked at the clock. Nearly midnight. There was no haste in the sounds, so it could not be an emergency.

"Well, speak of the devil, as they say," she said.

A few moments later, the Complication stepped into the room. Her dear, responsible, sincere, sweet, aggravating son, Henry.