AUDEAMUS
Chapter 8
When the citizens of Hayes awoke that bright morning, they were never prepared for the surprise they would find by their doorsteps. During the dark of the night, someone had meticulously placed what had been taken in taxes by their doors—the exact same amount each household had had to give up.
A note had been placed next to the money and items:
The captain wishes to forgive the good people of Hayes for his selfish actions. He returns the stolen goods in-full.
Audeamus
Even Bella's household had gotten their spent taxes returned. They had been one of the richer families to pay for the poorer farmers inhabiting the town. She read the note again, her eyes tracing over the childish handwriting.
"My neighbors across the street got an exact same note," Lorraine said as she looked over Bella's shoulder. They sat in the kitchens, the maids all contemplating last night's occurrences.
As the sun had dawned, a mighty roar could be heard coming from the barracks. Captain Forster had woken up to chaos. The treasury—the room Sgt. Thompson always misnamed as the "tax room"—had been emptied. His riches had been stolen. The records he'd kept had been taken as well. It did not take long for the furious captain to discover where his treasure had been taken. He had started assembling the guards to ride out and gather the people of Hayes.
But when he found a note in his own bedroom with the same childish handwriting, he stopped cold in his tracks.
I wonder how Lord Newton or the department of finance in Safeira would react upon hearing of this treason from your part. I am certain Newton would overlook the first time. But be sure Safeira's wrath shall hit you with full force if you repeat yesterday's little trick.
It was not signed "Audeamus" like the others. Forster's heartbeat started increasing. How did this man know of his plan to tax the people of Hayes without Newton's consent? He had to sit down, allowing himself to think. He had to find this would-be Robin Hood before he got the support of the people.
Back at the Swan residence, tongues of the maids were still stirring. "Audeamus," one of the women said pale-faced. They all recognized the word well. The motto of General Edward Cullen whose statue graced the old square. The same Cullen who had fallen almost three hundred years ago in battle. And now someone was set on bringing that motto of daring courage back again.
Sara saw the Latin word plastered over her note. It was a word they had all grown up knowing; a word always present in their everyday.
"Let us dare," Bella said with a grave tone; the English equivalent. The words held a big impact and could be interpreted as only one thing. It was an open invitation for them all to question their local authority. "We should get rid of these notes. The guards might well take in anyone having this in their possession. It falls under having propaganda." And they all knew how that went for Billy Black.
"Whoever gave our money back has sent Forster a clear message," Dory smirked. "I hope that infernal man is ripping his hair out in frustration."
"But why hasn't he rounded us up and demand we pay taxes again?" another maid questioned.
"Who knows. But you are right to ask. Do not touch that money until you are certain he will not demand we give it back," Dory told them.
"There must be a reason," Bella pondered. She stared down at the note again. "I am positive Hayes will not fall back into that boring little town we've been so used to," she murmured.
"No, indeed."
It seemed a revolutionary had stopped by their town, ready to cause a ruckus at any moment's notice. She did not yet know if this was bad or good.
Mr. Simmons had been sitting by that statue both day and night, hoping to catch sight of that ghost once more. But, alas, he retained no such luck. It was therefore that the man felt it his duty to spread the word. Edward Cullen had risen from the grave—he had been the one to justly return the money to the overtaxed people.
The rumor was whispered from one ear to another. When people spoke of this man, a flame of hope stirred within the depths of their eyes. In every tavern, inn, kitchen and drawing room they spoke of nothing else.
But many wondered who this man really was. For if the more gullible of the townspeople did, in fact, think it a ghost, the more read and learned of them suspected it was one of their own. Many suggested it was some farmer's lad who had had enough with the local regime and decided to rise up against the soldiers.
But who could it be?
Charles Swan had looked at the note his household had received. Bella and Renée were positive he would mutter something with an indifferent air and throw away the note for fear that the soldiers would search his home as they had with Billy Black.
How wrong they had been.
"Remarkable," Charles breathed as he read the Latin word again. "We must make sure no one sees this note."
"You are not throwing it away, papa?" Bella asked in astonishment.
"Throw away? Are you foolish, child? This is a testament to the folly of the guards. I take pride in having this note. I hope we see more of this. Some feathers should have been ruffled long ago—I regret none of us dared move a finger. But times are changing," he said with a sparkle in his eyes. Bella rose an inquisitive eyebrow at her father's strange behavior.
"Papa, I never knew you cared so…" she trailed off.
Charles turned to face her. "We may be rich now and live well-off. But I was once one of them. And even though it is hard for me to admit that I was at times, it still hurts me to see how the people are abused by the soldiers. I have taken refuge in money when others couldn't. I offered no other solution. This type, whoever he is, has taken a rather unorthodox approach to, erm, justice."
Renée stared at her husband with pride and renewed ardor in her eyes. Bella could not help the twinge of guilt as confusion rose within her. "But you all are so quick to praise him. We know nothing of this person yet—only that he stole from the local government and broke out a prisoner…twice."
"And you disagree with his actions?" Renée bewilderingly asked her daughter. "You, if anyone, should stand by this man."
"I want to. But he is challenging the law. What happens if he goes further? We could have an outbreak of anarchy on our hands and none of us want that. I could well romanticize him as some dashing hero out to protect us. But the reality is much more complicated. This could make things worse."
"Things were already getting worse. The imprisonment of Billy Black showed that we had no right to speak out anymore. We may suffer through Captain Forster's wrath for now, but it will die down eventually, especially if the people realize the true power that they hold."
"But only if this man continues to be present."
The reasoning by the parents was as just as the ones made by the daughter. It was a complicated subject that made Bella's head spin. She wanted to believe in what Ridge had said—that the law was just. But if someone now haplessly came and fought outside of the law, then that person argued that law held no truth nor honor to it.
She shook her head, unable to make her mind up over the entirety of the situation. Bella found interest in listening to the other people whisper over the matter. Most reasoned like her parents. She had wandered to Little Lucy's inn and sat by the bar, enjoying a cup of spiced wine as the brutish woman cleaned the claret glasses with a wet rag.
"I tell ya, missy, we're in for some shit times, we are!" she said with a frown on her forehead.
"You also think things will get worse?" Bella was in awe that someone else in town would try to see things differently.
"Things always get worse before they get better, miss. I only hope the folks in this town can understand that. They praise this man now, see, but will they be praisin' him when Captain Forster thirsts for revenge?"
"Mr. Ridge would be rolling in his grave if he saw what was becoming of Hayes," Bella murmured as she pushed away a strand lock of her dark hair. The stale air within the room weighed heavy on her as noon progressed.
"Ya make it out like Hayes was much better before. That ain't the truth. Ya've only opened yer eyes now. Things have always been like this. Perhaps that is what this man wanted, for us all to open our eyes," Lucy said as she placed a hand on her wide hips and leaned over the counter. "But do not worry yerself with this, my sweet."
Bella sat by that bar for a bit longer, not knowing what else to say. She had no grounds for joining a discussion over such a matter when there was little to do. But she started to comprehend that this man, whoever he was, had after all managed to lift the spirits of the citizens. She only hoped the repercussions of his actions would not come crashing down like a storm over them all.
But it seemed like her fears were to come true. News of what had occurred in Hayes spread across the Cadherra province like wildfire. It soon reached the capital, Safeira. Tongues started wagging with the tale of a mysterious man who had, in an impossible feat, managed to free an unjustly accused prisoner and even managed to steal taxes from the local treasury and redistribute them amongst the people. Many found the tale an amusement, but the ones in charge saw the matter as rather problematic.
They sent a letter demanding that the captain of the garrison explained himself. Even Mayor Wilson was asked to inform more over the matter. He, of course, had little to add other than it was "taken care of".
Forster's answer, however, was wanting. Not even a week passed before a new set of soldiers had been dispatched to the area, led by none other than the charming Major Collins.
Major Collins was as dashing as they came. He had been away campaigning up in the north and even to some battles on the continent—from which he had gained his elevated status as a major. He returned with a few scars but more stories of valor than anyone could count. And even so, James Collins was a modest type. He did not brag, as so many of his peers would, and took on his charge with a level head—even such a lowly one as commanding the garrison of Hayes. But the men in charge in Safeira grew restless. And they wanted to snuff out this uneasiness in the little town as quickly as possible. They hoped the major would be able to do so.
The evening he arrived at the garrison, the townspeople of Hayes had gathered in curiosity to see who the new commander of the Royal Guard would be. They suspected a brute of a man with malicious intent, much like Captain Forster. But they had all been pleasantly surprised.
On the first day of his arrival, the decorated major had dismounted his calico steed and immediately started his inspection of the military building, accompanied none other than by the mayor who was most keen on getting to know the man.
Upon his inspection—wrinkling his nose at the poor conditions of the barracks—Collins even went through the trouble of seeing to the prisoners. Some were even freed upon the realization that their only crime had been that of a small protest: no basis for imprisonment.
Wilson had only watched in silent astonishment; his face grown ashen as he said Forster would not like it one bit. Collins had not given it a second thought, of course.
He had asked Captain Forster to come into his office that same evening and promptly started bashing on him. The insults were so loud that the soldiers on the courtyard could hear every colorful word the major threw Forster's way.
The townspeople took a collective breath upon realizing that the tyrannical days of Forster were well over. A few days passed along, and Hayes settled into her usual rhythm. The Stanleys had decided it was due time for a summer feast and had gone as far as inviting the decorated officer. Major Collins would be the first officer to attend a civilian ball in Hayes in years.
The Swans had been invited as well—of course. The Stanleys were always keen on remaining steadfast friends with the couple, even if their daughters could not say the same.
"We just had a gathering not too long ago," Bella complained as she was squeezed into her corset.
"A fortnight ago, which by the capital's standards is too long a time between anything. Count yourself lucky that the Stanleys have set this ball. Besides, it is a small gathering with only a few families attending," Sara said as she pulled at the laces.
"I hate gatherings."
"But Mrs. Hale will be there," the shy girl continued. "And she is your friend, right?"
"But where Mrs. Hale goes, her brother is not too far behind. Although, I must confess I find Edward Masen a most peculiar young man."
Sara could not help a snort escape her. But she soon remembered herself. "Forgive me, Miss Swan!"
"What for, that is my reaction whenever someone mentions his name," she chuckled. "I wonder what the pompous peacock will be wearing today and what philosophers he will quote next."
She usually saw him once a week when he would attend Jessica Stanley's tea gatherings. Edward Masen never failed to entertain those around him with his rather peculiar and foolish persona. But Alice always looked so dismayed at how her brother was that Bella always grew ashamed of her own negative feelings toward the popinjay. She knew that the man he had turned into hurt his family. Bella chastised herself whenever she made fun of him, remembering that he was still seen as a person by those close to him.
A few days prior to the small ball, Carlisle Masen had been seen practically screaming at his son in frustration. The proud baron could not believe what Edward had turned into and found it hard indeed to hide his disappointment. Even his mother, Esmeralda, was dismayed by how her son acted. The only one in the family who tolerated him was his oldest sister, Rosalie.
Bella could not blame him. The baron had seemed to burst in the seams of joy whenever he mentioned his son privy to Edward arriving. But now he could scarcely look at him.
Perhaps that was why they arrived in separate carriages the night of the Stanley ball. Edward traveled with his sister, Rosalie, and her husband, Emmett. Emmett and Jasper—both not having known him before his departure for England—did not openly express their opinion of him. But one could clearly read in their eyes exactly what they were thinking. Jasper was politer toward Edward while Emmett completely disregarded the younger man.
Bella had arrived late with her parents since her father had spilled a glass of Madeira right before going and had to change once more.
She had been to the Stanleys many times before. They lived in an elegant townhouse right off the old square. It was some ten minutes going by horse as one had to snake through all the streets to arrive. The carriage took longer as there was yet no main street in Hayes to render most part of town accessible.
The Stanleys lived in a more modern terraced house, opening straight onto the street with a few steps up to the door. There was an open space, protected by iron railings, dropping down to the basement level, with a discreet entrance down some steps off the street for servants and deliveries. The whole street was lined in this type of house. They were all tall and narrow with elegantly tall windows on the façade.
But today more carriages lined the street than usual. Footmen awaited the guests and led them inside. The Swans were led to the steps and stared at the elegant mahogany doors. Lively chatter and loud music could be heard from beyond those doors. They opened, and the warm light of the inside spilled out onto the street as they stepped inside.
The Stanleys had invited a few more people than initially thought. Men and women crammed together in the tight space as Bella stepped into the foyer. The heat washed over her as she entered; like a wall pushing against her, warning her not to delve further. The older generations still wore their lavish robes à l'anglaise, with their hair puffed and powdered. Bella's generation opted for a simpler style, with the hair not quite as extravagantly done. She wore a modest gown in white muslin with a red sash at the waist and red trimmings at the hem.
They tried to squeeze through, Charles stopping every so often when rotund men in breeches, powdered wigs, filled glasses of port in their hands and a blush to their faces would talk to him. He stopped longer once he was met by Mayor Wilson.
"Ah, Mr. Wilson!" Charles said with wide arms. He made a note of keeping good relations with one of the richer and more prominent men of Hayes. He was the type of man in whose circles Charles wished to frequent. Wilson gave a wide grin, the action making his double chin stand out more.
"Charles Swan! Of course you would be here," he laughed back in the pleasant and tranquil voice. Mayor Wilson may be a coward when it came to Forster, but he was quite pleasant and agreeable when alone and parted from that pesky soldier. Bella thought it a pity he would not stand up more for the civilians he represented.
"You must tell me more about this Collins fellow…" Charles trailed off once Bella and her mother had curtsied to the mayor.
Renée took her daughter away. "Come, let us find Mrs. and Mr. Hale for you," her mother said encouragingly. She knew how well Bella got along with Alice.
Alice was found, at last, standing by a window and fanning herself fervently as Jasper handed her some refreshments. The moment she caught sight of Bella, she rose her hand, waving her over.
"Miss Swan! You look splendid, dear!" she dared as she took a look at Bella's ensemble. While Alice wore the robe à l'anglaise, Bella's dress resembled more the French fashion of simplicity and comfort.
"You two look very handsome as well. But I did not know there would be so many people here, Mrs. Hale," Bella said as she looked around.
"I think the Stanleys might have held back their initial numbers to the rest of us. Indeed, there were so many that wanted to know the man of the hour himself."
"Major Collins is here, then?"
Alice closed in and took Bella away from her husband and Renée so that they might not be overheard. "I will not lie when my heart went aflutter at the sight of that man. He is indeed as agreeable and handsome as they say. But still not enough to tempt me from my very own Jasper," she confessed. Alice snuck a glance at her husband and a warmth lit in her eyes that Bella had never known. The loving stare the young woman sent him made Bella's own heart warm. She wished to know such love someday. She had seen that look before, when her parents thought she wasn't paying attention to them.
"I suspect Miss Stanley has monopolized his time for the rest of the evening?" Bella rose an eyebrow. The real reason as to why she had agreed to come was only because she was curious to know this new major better.
"She might, but you can still be introduced to him. I am certain he would appreciate your tender company much more than Miss Stanley's," Alice snickered as a chuckle crept up on her. "Jasper, darling, we shall be back in an instant," she cooed to her husband.
"If you insist on calling me darling, dearest, then may the moment be forever prolonged," Jasper muttered, sipping his wine in one swoop.
Alice laughed. "He hates it when I do that. But I love teasing him so."
"I think he may enjoy it for the mere fact that your laugh has provoked a smile in him," Bella leaned in to whisper. Indeed, Mr. Hale tried hard to suppress a tender smile at his wife joyous laughs.
Alice blushed as she whisked Bella away. They pressed through the throng—women in exquisite dresses and men in elegant cravats and coats. Bella's head was light with the heat and excessive essence of perfume or eau de toilette. The music would not stop playing as quartette upon quartette sounded. She could feel the rhythm of the dance stretch from the ballroom to where they were.
And then she saw him.
As handsome as ever, he was. He was in the process of listening to one of Richard Meer's jokes. Bella could not help as a blush crept across her face. He was tall, taller than most in that room. In fact, Bella would venture as far as saying that only a few could compare to his height—Emmett being one of them. There was another man she reluctantly remembered as tall—Edward Masen. But it was not a person she wished to remember now.
He was fair-haired and had his long locks swept away from his face, tied together at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. He wore his uniform impeccably clean. The white trousers were tight and showed the outline of muscular legs. His boots reached up just past his knees and were so polished that Bella could see her own reflection in them. He bore a dark-green coat aligned with various medals. Whenever he smiled, a dimple appeared in his right cheek and his pearly white teeth illuminated the space.
"Come, Miss Swan," Alice urged as they neared him. "Did I not tell you that he was a complete Adonis?" she asked jokingly.
"Do not exaggerate, Mrs. Hale," Bella whispered under his breath. Alice frowned at the remark until Bella leaned in closer. "Comparing Greek gods with him would clearly be an insult to those gods," she stated.
Alice face lit up as laughter emerged. "Indeed, you are a funny one!"
"I try, dear, I try," Bella said, mimicking Jessica Stanley's bright voice and manner of speaking, only making Alice burst further into laughter despite herself.
"Now, what might this joke be that has provoked Mrs. Hale to lose herself so?" came a pleasant voice as a shadow blocked out the light of the crystal chandelier that illuminated part of the room. Bella looked up only to come face to face with a pair of icy blue eyes that smiled down at her.
Alice quickly controlled herself and curtsied, Bella promptly following in her friend's footsteps. "Only a pleasantry, Major Collins—you know, chatter we women find amusing." Collins lifted an eyebrow as his gaze shifted to Bella once more.
"Then I shall not press further on the matter. But pray tell, Mrs. Hale, who is this lovely friend of yours?" he asked, never once breaking eye-contact with Bella.
"This is Isabella Swan, a most dear friend."
Bella's heart skipped a beat as Alice introduced her as a dear friend. She cast a glance to her and found a heartwarming smile.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam." Collins bowed with an elegant and swift motion. It was only then that Bella noticed the saber tied to his hip which he had moved out of the way.
"The pleasure is mine, major. I hope you find our little town agreeable," she said.
Collins nodded firmly. "I do indeed, it is a beauty and hidden jewel. But it saddens me to see how poorly it has been taken care of. I fear the Royal Guard has been cast into a negative light due to Captain Forster's rather unorthodox management of this district."
Both Bella and Alice arched an eyebrow at such words. "You bring welcoming words then, good sir, for we were not quite sure what to make of you," Alice dared say.
"Make no mistake, ladies, I came here with the sole aim of restoring the peace to Hayes. We live in troubled times and we do not need the seed of fear and division planted within the heart of our country. What we need now is to unite as a people."
"I could not agree more," Bella nodded as she smiled.
It was the first time in a while that she found herself actually enjoying a gathering. Major Collins asked her to dance on several occasions. And, as the evening progressed, she did not even notice the absence of Edward Masen. In fact, no one did.
The days after the gathering were calm. Hayes itself grew as peaceful as it could. And Bella thought the storm had washed away. The mysterious thief had not been seen and Captain Forster had calmed down. Major Collins was an excellent soldier and under his new leadership, the town slowly started to prosper.
Bella soon found herself slipping away to Raven's Grove more frequently. The balls, gatherings and tea services did little to entertain her boredom. Spending time with Alice Hale and getting to know the young woman more intimately was always a bright event in Bella's day.
She would, sometimes, happen upon the handsome Major Collins himself. It was usually whenever she ventured past the square of the garrison. He would engage her in a brief conversation and the young woman, usually with the hint of a blush on her features, would stay behind—forgetting why she had ridden past there, to begin with.
The weeks passed on, summer turned warmer as it stretched into August. The nights grew milder and the days lazier. Their relaxed town was a haven, a paradise now. The people no longer feared the Royal Guard and Captain Forster had started behaving more agreeable.
It was then that the robberies started.
They did not catch much of the townspeople's attention at first. For, only a petty carriage with hay was taken. A farmer making his way through Raven's Grove had had his cart, mule, and a load of hay stolen.
But he made little fuss about it when the mayor had Hayes recompensed him for his losses. They later found the same cart on the King's Road through Raven's Grove with the hay intact and the mule looking the worse for wear.
But then it escalated. As slowly as winter would give way to spring, the merchants coming to Hayes were robbed. It came to a point when commerce to the town was halted.
One day, in utter protest, the townspeople dared to gather in front of the garrison, urging that the major let them know of his plans to deal with the bandits.
It was just as lazy as any other day. A few had taken to the shade as the August sun shone hotly down on the dusty ground. The fountain sang its sweet tune and Mr. Simmons played chess with himself in the shade of a cherry blossom tree.
But, having come from the Town Hall in haste, the mayor was now urged by a raging mass to knock on the tall gates to the garrison.
He removed his tricorne hat to wipe away the sweat that started to form on his brow. The balding head had sweat positively pearling on it, running down his temples, the trimmed beard shaking as he mustered the courage to face the military.
But he never knocked, of course. Nay, it was Jacob Black who stepped forth and banged loudly on the gates, the only one with enough courage to do so. And Major Collins was quickly summoned. Part of his sleeves had ink stains. The man was a slave to his desk, taking care of report after report, making sure that everything ran as impeccably as it could in the small town.
Before the townspeople could speak up, he rose his hands in defeat. "I know why you are all come," he started. The proud man crossed eyes with Jacob briefly, the young man's brow furrowing as Captain Forster walked up behind Collins with an ever-present scowl on his features. The major's woolen coat made it as if he was ever in a furnace. Never able to escape the pressing heat of day.
"Trust me, good people, that we are doing everything we can to trap these bandits," he said. For the first time, Collins allowed some of the fatigue to break through his otherwise stoic exterior.
"We might as well go back to paying those ridiculous taxes, major. For we have lost more money these past few weeks than we did when Captain Forster was in charge of taxation," Jacob argued. "No merchants will come. And the same bandits have even started robbing the outlining houses of the town. Who knows what they will do next!"
"Hear, hear!" some of the townspeople said. Mayor Wilson kept his mouth shut—one of the many reasons he still held his job.
Captain Forster's scowl deepened at Jacob's words. But he said nothing. Major Collins massaged the bridge of his nose. "We have no leads—they attack as swiftly as they disappear. They leave nothing behind."
Another man stepped forth. "We know you's a good man, major. We know ya be tryin' yer best. But me family depends on me work, see? And now I've got nothin' to even put on the table. Have ya nothin' to go on, sir? We all would gladly lend ya a hand if it meant catchin' them thieves," he spoke in a heavy Cadherran accent, his hat in his hand and a look of respect on his features. In fact, many of the people present beheld the major with nothing but respect.
The major let out a small smile. "Thank you kindly, but we are the Royal Guard and our duty is to protect you—that is where your taxes go. I will not force any townspeople to put aside their daily labor to be patrolling the streets when I can offer no pay for that. No, all of you, until we get more leads, I suggest you return to your homes. Keep an eye on things, do not venture into the forest unless you can get an escort and barre your homes before going to sleep each night."
"But you have some leads?" Jacob asked. The slight undertone that Major Collins was onto something did not escape his attention.
The major shifted uncomfortably in front of the young man, not knowing how much he should divulge. "Perhaps…" he trailed off.
"Then tell us, man! Anything is better than nothing. You know we all want to help," he said heatedly.
"We only have a suspect—" Collins was cut off by the people standing in front of him as they broke out into loud rants, speculating who it might be. "But we are not sure yet!" he interrupted them. "As I said, it is only a suspicion, which I will not divulge with you. When I have an official report, I will gladly hand it to the mayor to be redistributed, if that is your wish. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe Captain Forster and I have much to do."
Bella's fingers trailed along the worn furniture as sad eyes gazed at the messy room. She never thought she would see it again. The presence of the Royal Guard was noticeable, they had taken with them large quantities of documents from the office. They had tried to find more notes left behind that would reinforce his suicide.
But, still, there were heaps of papers that lay on the floor, as they had since last seeing him working fervently in that room.
A window stood open, letting in the birdsong of the early afternoon. It echoed, out of place in the desolate room. The bed was still to be made. A cup of wine stood by the table lined against the window.
More than a month had passed, and no one had come to clean up Mr. Ridge's office. Bella Swan had offered to do so before the new tenant moved in. She knew there were things to be salvaged before they were thrown out. Her heart leapt in her chest in a painful sprint.
It looked as if Mr. Ridge still lived there; as if he had just stepped out for a moment and would be back in a flash. She swallowed the lump growing in her throat. Ridge had been an integral part of her view of Hayes; like Little Lucy or Sgt. Thompson.
And now he was gone.
She wondered if anyone else would mourn him. He had no family, no close friends or relatives. Jacob Black had offered to help the moment he found out that she was to clean up the room. But he was still to come.
She removed her shawl, top-hat and riding gloves and put on the white apron she had brought with her and then set to work immediately. She started picking up the documents and papers from the floor. She started stacking the books in the shelves until she realized the new tenant had no use for them—it was a blind man. Thus, Bella put them away, thinking they might be given away to charity.
She started stacking Ridge's notes on his desk. His handwriting was as unreadable as always—mere scribbles of intangible letters and words that only he could read. She could make out some more legible notes, detailing his thoughts for Jacob and Billy Black's trial. But it was only a few words here and there.
A few hours into her work, the previous maid of Mr. Ridge entered with a tray. She placed the cold-cut meats and bread on the table. The glass of wine still stood there, untouched. The maid stared at it for a while, her hands trembling as she turned away form it.
"Will you not take the cup, Miss Haste?" Bella asked after her. Maria stopped, her back still facing the young woman. The shoulders grew tense and Bella suspected the maid was suppressing a sob.
"I—I cannot bear to do it, miss. I have tried, believe me," she said with a waiver to her voice. "But makin' his bed, gatherin' his clothes or removin' that cup is as if I am erasin' the last of Mr. Ridge," she lamented and finally broke out into a sob.
Bella moved away from the books and walked over to the young maid. A few lose locks escaped the confinements of her cap as big tears rolled down her freckled cheeks.
"Lucas was a good man, and we will not forget him. But gripping onto him is not fair. We must let him go."
Maria sniveled, staring at the ground. "Yes, miss." The young woman soon regained her senses and Bella continued, stopping short in her tracks when a slip of paper caught her attention.
It was Mr. Ridge's suicide note.
A/N: Thank you for the reviews and all the reads! I also wish to thank those of you who are recommending my fic, there has definitely been an increase in readers because if it, and I really appreciate that!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I am so eager to post more so that you get to read what comes next :D I am loving the theories you are sharing with me so far!
Cheers,
Isabelle