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Chapter 36: Choices
Sarah pushed herself off the bed when she saw Eve come into the room with a pile of linens. She set them down on the bed and almost walked out but Sarah took every last ounce of strength to scuttle ahead of her and close the door, blocking Eve's way.
"We're talking about this, Eve," Sarah huffed, "You're not getting away this time."
Eve looked at the door and shrugged as she turned back and sat on the bed. Sarah pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, holding her stomach as she caught her breath.
"You may be quicker than me these days, but I am seriously tired of you escaping me before I can speak," Sarah admonished her.
Eve didn't respond to her and looked down at her hands.
"You've even been sleeping in Georgiana and Grace's room," Sarah sighed, "We barely speak."
"You can't talk me out of this, Sarah," Eve said, "I know what you're planning."
"Eve, something is a bit strange about this whole thing," Sarah warned her, "It doesn't seem to be in Jean's character to refuse to write you. He is not a fickle man by any means. The day he left, he promised to write you. If what I've heard about him is true, he doesn't break promises very easily."
Eve shook her head, "But that's the thing, Sarah, I didn't get a single letter."
Sarah looked down at her stomach, "Letters are just pieces of paper, Eve."
"That can say a lot, whether sent or not."
Sarah shook her head and after a few moments of silence she spoke up again, "Why are you agreeing to marry this man?"
Eve looked up from her lap, "I'm twenty four, Sarah. I'll have no more prospects after this. Most already are calling me an old maid."
"I'm twenty one and I already know what's ahead of me," Sarah said under her breath, "You've got more a chance than I do. You're twenty four, a lot can happen before you turn the official age of old maiden-dom."
"That's what I thought when I was your age," Eve slightly smiled, "I have to do this. It's necessary."
"Many choices will present themselves in life," Sarah said as she leaned forward, putting her hand on Eve's, "but it doesn't mean we always have to make them."
"What if it's the only choice that presents itself?"
"Other doors always open," Sarah said.
"You should hear your own words," Eve jested with her.
"Doors open themselves for girls who haven't fallen," Sarah corrected her.
"I think you're wrong."
"Well, I hope you're right," Sarah smiled, "However, don't try to change the subject."
"I wasn't-"
"You know you can't go through with this," Sarah said as she struggled out of the chair, "You know I'm right."
….
It was November and the air was very chilly. Sarah and Eve had been in Devonshire for nearly five months and it was becoming very boring for them at times. Sarah was six months into her pregnancy and growing tired of it. The doctor had told her she was expecting twins, which worried her. She spent more time in bed than usual or confined herself to a chair in front of the fire place to stave off the cold and think about what to do. Jean's brother in law had only agreed to take one child. She was tasked with finding a solution for the second child's future.
Eve was sitting with her cousin in the drawing room. The doors were open and she could see across the narrow hallway into the family sitting room. Sarah was wrapped in a blanket slumped in a stuffed chair. Her cousin was quietly reading a book he had found in her uncle's study.
"This is quite fascinating," he suddenly said, breaking the silence.
"I'm sure," Eve said, not really caring about the book he was reading.
"I thought you loved books," he whispered, sensing her sarcasm, "What's happened to you, dear cousin?"
Eve looked over at him and shrugged.
"Well, it would be nice to see you get back to that," he chuckled, "I do miss it when you used to visit and excitedly tell me about a new book your father bought you on birds or plants."
Eve smiled, "I guess I grew bored with books. Sometimes I do read them if I can't sleep or have nothing else to do."
A knock on the front door interrupted their small conversation. Mrs. Meriweather came in and straightened the room a bit before the maid came in and announced their guest.
"Miss Davidson for you Miss Cromwell," she said. Lady Davidson's daughter came in. She saw Eve's cousin and stopped in her tracks. He smiled at her and bowed before dismissing himself. Arabella didn't recognize him, and was completely unaware of the fact that he was a duke, but she was pressed to remember why she recognized him.
"Well," she said as she sat down, "Who was that?"
"My cousin," Eve said quickly, hoping for the conversation to change.
"You have many cousins, Miss Cromwell," she giggled, "I've began to lose count of them."
Eve smiled, knowing she was right. The maid brought in a tray of tea and set it before them, leaving quickly.
"My brother had business to attend to and he wished for me to inform you that we're having a ball," she said, without a hint of excitement, "Again."
"You don't like parties, Miss Davidson?" Eve said, sensing Arabella's unenthusiastic tone.
"I'm not partial to them- but, please, call me Arabella," she said, "We will be family."
The tea overran from the cup as Eve thought about that and Arabella made a little noise, bringing her back into reality. She stopped pouring and nervously laughed, trying to play it off as an accident.
"Don't worry," Arabella said, "It's just hot water."
[
"Terribly sorry," Eve apologized, "My mind hasn't been present today."
Arabella nervously stroked the handle of her tea cup, feeling a bit guilty thinking about how her mother had kept those letters from Eve.
"Eve, if I may call you so-" Arabella stalled and Eve nodded her head for her to continue, "My brother does love you. I don't know why I feel I must say that."
Eve plopped a cube of sugar into her tea and stalled for a moment, "I know."
"I hope we become friends," Arabella said jovially. Eve smiled at her, not responding with words. Arabella was quite pleasant to speak with, she learned. What she couldn't understand was why the maid loathed her so much.
…
Jean stood in the entry way of the Cromwell's manor and looked at the floor, rubbing a scuff out with his foot. Mr. Cromwell came out of his study and happily greeted his friend. However, the look on Jean's face made his smile disappear.
"Whatever's the wrong, my friend?" he asked as Jean placed his hat down on a small chair.
"Have you heard the good news?" Mr. Cromwell continued, "Now if I could get George to procure a good match. He's twenty seven-"
"How is she?" Jean suddenly asked. Mrs. Cromwell came out into the entry way from the drawing room. She looked quite distraught.
"She couldn't be happier-"
"Oh please," his wife scoffed. Jean looked at her with concern.
"My dear, can we not fight in the presence of company?"
She glared up at him and then looked at Jean as she drew a deep breath to keep herself form screaming at him like she had been for the two days since they received the letter.
"Would you like some tea, Jean?" she asked with a very fabricated happy tone. She led him into the drawing room and her husband followed like a puppy.
"Eve mentioned in one of her letters to me that you didn't write her," she said as she poured him a cup of tea. Mr. Cromwell paced a bit in the distance. Jean looked up in surprise.
"No, I wrote her three times," he looked a bit confused by what she had just said.
"George," she said as her husband stood still for a moment and looked at her, "Will you fetch me the letter Eve wrote to me?"
He scrambled off, leaving his wife and Jean alone. She placed her tea cup down and leaned back in her chair. Jean was staring down at his cup in complete shock by what he had been told.
"I'm not going to lie and say I'm unaware of how you feel for my daughter," she suddenly said, catching his attention, "I would also be lying if I agreed with my husband about Eve's engagement."
Jean looked at the door of the drawing room, watching to see if his friend was coming.
"I think that you should do everything in your power to win her," she said, lifting her cup to her mouth again. Jean placed his cup down, surprised by how forward she was about the whole issue.
"I'm afraid I have tried everything," Jean said.
"Truly?" she asked sarcastically, "I highly doubt that. You? I overheard my husband telling stories of your youth. You were quite- well- how should a woman of my delicate sensibilities say it?- popular with the ladies? Surely you know how to court a woman or are you out of practice?"
Jean cocked his eyebrow and was speechless. She smirked and her husband came back in with the letter.
"Was I absent for something?" he remarked, seeing Jean's expression.
His wife snatched the letter from him and opened it, handing it to Jean. Her husband was very confused about her behavior. Jean read the letter and she calmly sipped her tea. Her husband circled a bit and found a seat at the piano forte bench. Jean nearly slammed the letter on the table but control himself, placing it down instead.
"I wrote her three letters," he said to Mrs. Cromwell in confusion.
"If I were you, I'd write her again," she encouraged him, "Perhaps something happened? The wedding is in two months."
Jean stood up, dismissing himself and leaving in a hurry. Mr. Cromwell scrunched his face to illustrate his confusion to his wife. She smiled at him and stood up.
"Tell the maid I wish for my trunks to be packed," she said, "I am leaving tomorrow for Devonshire."
His jaw dropped and he watched her leave the room.
"My family is insane," he said to himself as he stood up.