Thanks for the reviews! Just a couple more chapters, wow. I might be finished today. For those wondering: I am planning to put up another Jean story. I think he deserves more love as a character. Colonel Tavington swooped in with his handsome face and his suaveness and took most of the attention, didn't he? lol Does anyone want to see a sequel to this story? If you do, let me know. I'm taking a poll :)
Chapter 48: No Reward for the Wicked
Jean's horse dug at the ground with its hoof. It whinnied and watched him run into the dark and empty parsonage of Devonshire. There was nothing there. It was dead. The room Eve had been sleeping in was empty and cold. White sheets covered the furniture. He came out and planted himself on the steps, pulling at his hair. He knew where he had to go and he was dreading it. His horse nudged him on the arm and he took the reigns before mounting and riding off towards Twickencote.
When he arrived, he saw Lady Davidson's daughter taking a turn around the lake in front of the manor. She looked at him in shock. It was as if she had seen an apparition. She stood completely still and Peter came out, clamoring down the steps. Jean feared the worst. Perhaps Peter would harbor ill feelings towards him and he was in no mood to fight.
"Well, you look as if you've been through Hell and back," Peter said jovially. Jean was a bit confused.
"I would very much like to have tea with the man who managed to save a couple foolish young people from jumping into a marriage," his sister finally spoke up with a hint of laughter run her voice.
Jean did not wish to sit down to tea. What weighed the most on his mind was why the parsonage was bare and dead inside. A servant took the reigns of the horse and Jean reluctantly dismounted. He followed Peter and his sister inside but was grievously met face to face with a haggard looking Lady Davidson. She did not look as if she was doing very well. Her face was pale and her hair more grey than he remembered it to be. She didn't say anything to him. She glared up at him and walked away. Peter let out a little sigh of relief.
"Why is she out of bed?" Peter whispered to a servant.
Jean worriedly looked back at her. She was standing by a window, looking out. She coughed and Jean saw blood on the handkerchief she held. The servant led her back upstairs and Peter tried to dismiss the entire episode.
"I can only stay for a short while," Jean insisted. Everything about that place made him feel uneasy.
"You must rest, you have a long journey ahead of you," Arabella informed him, "You'll have to go to North Yorkshire. It's quite a journey. It may take you a week to get there at a steady trot."
Jean ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and followed Arabella to the drawing room. Every nerve in Jean's body want dot jump out of his skin. The sound of the tea pouring into a cup made him anxious as he wished to leave. There was no rest for him. He was tired of running a dialogue in his head of what he wished to say to Eve.
….
Eve was watching her youngest cousins dance in the parlor. They were taking lessons from their mother. Eve laughed to herself when Georgiana tripped and fell on the hem of her dress. She was not happy to have to learn the dances. Grace was doing very well surprisingly. Georgiana could nothing but whine.
Eve heard Mary and Jane giggling in the hall as they sorted through letters. She got up and made her way across the room, approaching them and looking over their shoulders.
"There is a letter for you," Mary handed it to Eve but that was not the source of their amusement. Mary had apparently received a letter from the officer she had been dancing with.
"My father has agreed to take him on to teach him the ropes of ministry," she said happily to Jane, "and that means he will be around much longer than I expected."
Eve looked down at the folded paper and saw Peter's handwriting on it. She sighed and went upstairs to read it.
She sat on her bed and opened the letter reluctantly. The first couple of lines were innocent enough. Arabella was finally engaged and Peter was courting a young woman who was a class below him, which his mother disapproved of, of course. But the last few lines finally struck her. He informed her that his mother was very ill and had not been able to speak much. He said that once Eve left for North Yorkshire, his mother came down with an innocent cold. He kept the paper and writing utensils away from her and she had not been able to do any more damage to Eve's reputation than she already had. However, Eve knew that a couple letters had already dispersed from Twickencote to some high ladies of society. She doubted that Sarah and herself weren't the talk of their circles. However, it would subside, she knew, but she didn't care much for it. She didn't plan to see them face to face anytime soon. In fact, she had already dropped off the face of polite society. She had missed the season that year and had not found herself attending the balls and parties or having tea in the grand parlors and drawing rooms of these women. She had done it since she was sixteen and she was tired. Her refusing to take part in the traditions of upper class girls was enough a message to society that she did not wish to take part in it.
Eve put the letter down, trying not to feel happy about Lady Davidson's sickness. It was a shame, she convinced herself. She could, however, see the severity of Lady Davidson's illness. She was coughing blood and that was never a good omen. There was no reward for wickedness.
….
The rain did not help Jean very much on his journey to North Yorkshire. The mud was thick on quite few paths. His clothes were messed and at that point he didn't care if his boots were caked in dirt. He found himself having to stay at inns scattered across the countryside. Some were unsavory and others were quite charming but he kept himself in his room. The ruckus downstairs was not his cup of tea. He had grown used to rowdy behavior being in war and spending time on the battlefield but he had grown too tired of it.
He was halfway there, he reminded himself. It was taking longer than Peter had informed him it would. The bad weather was frustrating, to say the least. However, within a week, it began to clear. Sun and clear skies allowed him to continue on unencumbered. He just hoped that she would be there once he arrived. He told himself if she was somewhere else and he had another dead end in the maze to seek her out, that he would travel three thousand more miles to find her, and of that, he was sure.
