Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

"N annie?"

Nancy heard a gentle voice come from behind her door. Well, not her door; the door of the room in Bluebird Hall, her family's new residence. Her door was back at Wexford.

Yet after what had transpired, perhaps it would never be her door again.

"Nannie, are you awake?" the voice persisted and Nancy soon recognized it—only one person called her like that.

"Yes, Bea," she called out hoarsely and cleared her throat, hoping she'd sound less like a swamp creature when she spoke again, "Come in."

Beatrice's head poked from the opening of the door, and her younger sister slid inside the room, holding a silver tray with her delicate fingers.

"I brought over some blueberry scones and tea. The maids said they informed you the cook had made some, but you told them you didn't want any. I didn't believe them, so I decided to bring them over myself," she said and gingerly closed the door with her foot.

"I did tell them so, Bea. The maids didn't lie to you," Nancy replied as she sat up from the bed.

Beatrice scoffed, "Are you ill? Blueberry scones are your favorite! You never say no to them."

Nancy found herself chuckling a bit at her sister's bafflement.

"No, dear. I'm not ill. Just not hungry," she replied as Beatrice set the tray on the little table beside her bed and sat down.

"Have some tea first. It'll help grow your appetite," Beatrice handed her a steaming cup of tea, "I've already added the milk. Don't worry, I haven't made too ‘blond' as you say."

Nancy felt the corners of her lips twitch as she took the cup in her hands. Her little sister knew exactly how she liked it.

"Thanks, Bea."

"Drink up. It'll help with the sadness too."

She had thought that the hurt would have eased up because she had spent her nights at her family's new residence crying herself to sleep. Her mind had conjured the faces of her mother and her husband on a repeated cycle of torture, their expressions and words taunting her endlessly.

Nancy felt utterly alone and was devastated by the time the sun had risen. She had not wanted to see or speak with anyone and had kept to herself through most of the week, only leaving her room when Anne had come to ask her to accompany her and Dash on a walk.

As Nancy swallowed, her eyebrows rose at her sister.

"Oh come on. I may be young, but I am not stupid. And I witnessed the first part of your argument with Mama the other day."

"I am sorry you had to see that, Bea."

"Do not apologize. She was totally unfair towards you."

Nancy pouted, the harsh words she had delivered echoing in her mind. As the days after their argument had passed, her guilt had grown like a terrible sore over her chest.

"Well… Not entirely. Mama is only concerned for your well-being," she said.

"But what about your well-being? We've got this house here, which is just as beautiful, if not more beautiful than Suttington Manor, we have each other… What else could we ask for?" her sister said as she sipped on her cup and tore a chunk from the scone before throwing it in her mouth.

"She's our mother. It's her job to worry," Nancy replied.

"Why are you defending her? Aren't you the one who stormed off?"

Nancy narrowed her eyes at her, "How exactly do you know that?"

Beatrice looked down at her cup in feigned innocence, "I guessed it. That's no matter. I am here to cheer you up."

Her sister handed her a piece of blueberry scone. Nancy hesitated and Beatrice then shoved it in her mouth.

"You have to eat something!" she giggled.

"Hey!" Nancy said through mouthfuls of crumbs as she took the piece out of her mouth, "All right, all right, I'll have some. Just please do not choke me."

She couldn't help but giggle along with her sister, the weight of her conflicts somehow becoming slightly lighter.

As she and Beatrice munched on the scones, she noticed her sister's face dimming.

"What's the matter?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Beatrice waved a hand dismissively as she finished her tea.

"Bea," Nancy put her hand on her sister's chin, "Come on, it's me. You can tell me."

Beatrice looked down once.

"I just… I missed you, that's all," she finally admitted.

"That was all? You can tell me that, silly," Nancy said, "I missed you too as well."

Beatrice bit her lip, "Really?"

"Truly. What's pestering you so?"

Beatrice shrugged, "I do not know. Ever since Papa died…"

Her voice trailed off and Nancy immediately squeezed her arm, signaling that it was all right to feel sad about that.

"Well… After Papa died, we never spent time together like we used to. Mama fussed about finding you a husband, then His Grace showed up and whisked you off. After that, all Mama talked about was how she hoped you were doing well or how she was worried about Anne's education and upbringing. You were the closest friend I had, and when you left, and no one cared that I was lonely and sad. I had to pretend everything was all right because I shouldn't upset Mama or Anne."

Nancy's heart sank. With all her marital troubles, she had not spared a moment to consider how lonely her sisters might be. They'd also lost their father and their mother was too preoccupied with their welfare to check on them.

"I'm sorry, Bea. I had no idea."

"I shouldn't be bothering you with this. You've got so many things on your plate," Beatrice said while chewing a piece of scone anxiously.

"Nonsense. I'm your sister, and I'll always be there for you," Nancy responded, "And please. If you ever feel lonely, you must write to me, and I shall find a way for us to reunite as soon as possible."

Beatrice gave her a tentative smile.

"Thank you, Nannie. That means a lot."

Nancy planted a soft kiss on her cheek, "Think nothing of it. Papa would want us to stay close."

Beatrice frowned slightly, "I miss him."

"I know, dear. I do as well."

"He always knew how to cheer us up," her sister sighed.

"Indeed. Remember those terrible serenades of his?"

Beatrice burst out in laughter, "With that dusty lute? Oh yes, how could I forget? We were begging him to stop—he sounded worse than a cat wailing in the middle of the night!"

"And then he tried to dance along, nearly tripping over his own feet and knocking over the vase! I thought Mama was going to faint from the shock," Nancy chuckled.

"But it did work, didn't it? We couldn't stop laughing for days. Even Papa couldn't help but laugh at himself once he saw how much joy he brought us."

Nancy nodded, "It worked indeed."

As she looked into the eyes of her little sister, she couldn't help but share her grief. The hollowness that her father's death had left could not be simply filled. Perhaps it never could. Nevertheless, they still had each other. And that is what mattered the most.

"What do you say we get out of this stuffy room and go for a walk with Anne and Dash?" Nancy suggested.

"But they have already gone on a walk today."

"Trust me. If it were up to him, Dash would go on a walk every ten minutes."

Beatrice giggled, "All right. Are you sure you're up to it, though?"

"Absolutely. I want to spend some time with my sisters now."

Beatrice beamed and for the first time in a whole week, Nancy felt a little hope.

Even though the phantom of her fight with Richard still lingered, she could always come back home to her sisters. Her mother as well, but she had to make things up with her first.

Now, all she wanted to do was enjoy some sun with her family.