Happy birthday RegallyWickedThirteen! Hope you enjoy this and have a day as amazing as you!
The thing about answering a letter- especially this type of letter- was that it was always difficult to know where to begin.
She sat with a pen in her hand, thinking of what to say before she dared to dip the pen into the ink bottle she had set at the top of the page. She did not dare send him a letter that was blemished with splotched ink. Yes, she may not know him well (despite him including his first name in the letter he had sent her), but she did know Mr. Locksley well enough to know that he would consider receiving a letter that was spotted with the ink she had used an impertinence.
Then there was the matter of not knowing how she should even begin. Yes, his first name was in the letter he had sent her, and he had addressed her somewhat informally in the correspondence that had started all of this, but she did not feel comfortable with addressing him so informally in her own writing. Perhaps, if their exchange of the written word continued and she did in fact get to know him better, she would address him more informally, but as things stood at this moment, she didn't feel comfortable doing that in the slightest.
That was just the basics though. Those worries did not even begin to cover the actual body of the letter. What could she possibly have to say to him? Yes, she had matters to discuss with him that were of a sensitive nature, her curiosity about the situation with David and James' inheritance piqued after her conversation with the other man. However, she also had no reason to view what David had told her with any amount of disbelief. She had known the two men for only a short time, but of the two of them, she had much more reason to think of what David had told her as credible. Mr. Locksley had proven throughout the course of their acquaintance that he was blunt to the point of rudeness, breaking the rules of decorum despite his privileged upbringing. David, however, had shown nothing but propriety toward both her and her family. Even when he was not aloof, such as when he had seen her after her lesson with Henry, Mr. Locksley behaved so strangely that she did not know what to make of him.
She sighed, putting the pen she had so meticulously selected back on the desk and stood. It was now more than evident to her that she needed fresh air and time away from paper and pen to clear her mind.
"What are you doing on this fine day, cousin?" a voice that was only just beginning to become familiar asked.
Chills ran down her spine as Regina turned. Leopold was standing behind her looking at her with an expression that unnerved her. He had made no advances as of yet, but if the way he was looking at her was any indication, it was no longer a secret which of the Mills sisters he wished to pursue, and she was repulsed by the very notion of courting him. The man was three times her age and, from what she had seen in his words and actions so far, he was so pretentious. The man may believe he was devout, but reading from sermons or the Bible itself every evening did not constitute a pious man. It was true that she had not spent as much time studying Scripture as he most assuredly had, but from what she did know, following the Christian way of life meant not only reading the Bible, but putting the principles contained within it into practice. True, no one was perfect, but what he was doing now was something she couldn't, and wouldn't, tolerate.
"I'll thank you if you stop looking at me as if I'm a fine slice of meat at the nearest butcher's shop," she snapped. Her words weren't polite, that much was certain, but she knew she had to make it clear that she wouldn't tolerate this behavior. If not, she was afraid it would continue, and she couldn't bear the thought of that. Better to stop it now than to let it continue. After all, once they were formed, any habit was hard to break.
He bowed. "I meant no offense, dear cousin, and I offer my sincerest apologies. However, my query still stands: What are you doing? After all, your mother has expressed her interest in the two of us being wed, so it is advisable that we begin to get to know one another and form a relationship that is agreeable for a successful marriage."
She hesitated. True, he had done nothing to make her think that his words weren't sincere. However, there was something in his eyes that she didn't trust. There was something about them that spoke of a snake in a garden preparing to strike, and a possessive glint in his eyes that she didn't like at all.
And then there was the matter of her mother indicating that she wanted them to be wed. It was a preposterous idea, inconceivable even. While she had no idea what had possibly prompted her mother to form that opinion, let alone make such a suggestion to Mr. Blanchard on her behalf, she had no idea, but she was going to ensure that she made her sentiments known to both her mother and her father immediately. She doubted she would be able to make her mother see reason- after all, they rarely saw eye-to-eye on anything. Her father, however, was another matter entirely. She usually agreed with him, especially on important matters such as this, and since he was the one who held the most weight in this matter- after all, at some point, Mr. Blanchard would have to formally ask her father for her hand in marriage- she wanted to make sure that she made her thoughts on the matter known to him immediately, lest her silence lead to reprehensible events.
She knew she had to say something to Mr. Blanchard as well, otherwise her neglect to address the issue would lead him to think that she found the plan he had formed by conspiring with her mother agreeable. Not pausing to think for a moment about what words she should use, she responded, "I was not aware of this arrangement in the least, and I regret to inform you, sir, that I do not find that plan agreeable in any way. I wish to marry for love, and from what I have learned of your disposition so far, I have no desire to marry you."
He smirked. "Miss Regina, you will likely not be given a choice in the matter. After all, that is not how these things are done. If your mother and father are agreeable to the arrangement-"
Suddenly, she couldn't stand his presence any longer, interrupting whatever he was about to say with, "Excuse me, Mr. Blanchard."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and fled, his flustered ramblings a low disgruntled murmur behind her. She had to find her mother and father immediately, particularly her father. After all, he was the only one who could stop this madness once and for all.
As she had anticipated, she found her father in his study. At her knock, he bade her to come in. She smiled, appreciative that no matter how busy he was, her father always made time for her.
"What can I do for you, querida?" he asked, making her smile. He had always called her that, the term of endearment falling from his lips with the accent that informed any listeners of his Hispanic background. When her grandfather's fortune had started to see its decline, he had moved up to Arlington, believing that being around business-minded Englishmen would be better than the Spaniards, many of whom, he had once confided to her, thought of nothing in this new world except their next conquest for gold and the profit it would bring to them and their families. The only regret his father had had in bringing his family north was the distance between their new home and the rest of their family back in Florida. It took approximately three weeks by ship to travel from Florida to Virginia, twice that time to travel by land. Not to mention the cost of securing passage on a ship, which was well beyond her late grandfather's means. She had relatives in Florida who were completely unknown to her, save for the letters her father wrote to them, many of which were accompanied by her own personal note to the people who shared her blood. She hoped to one day meet them, but she knew that that would likely never happen. She had seen mentions of Leopold in the letters from her relatives, and not a single one of them had painted him in a favorable light. She had reserved her own judgement at the time, knowing it was not fair to the man's character for her to immediately denounce him as someone unworthy of her time. However, now that she had seen for herself how detestable he was, she knew that every word her relations had spoken against him was the truth, making her even more eager to ensure that she was never bound to him in matrimony.
Sitting in the chair that resided on the opposite side of his desk, Regina clasped her hands in her lap. Not knowing for sure whose error it had been to suggest to Mr. Blanchard that she would make a good match for him, she began, "It has come to my attention that Mr. Blanchard believes that we would make a good match, that Mother has expressed her desire to see our wedding come to pass."
He nodded slowly. "What of it?"
"What of it?" she repeated, flabbergasted that he didn't immediately see the problem with what she had just told him. "Father, I am aware that he is to inherit the estate, but I have no desire to marry him! The way he looks at me…" she shuddered. "It is as if I am an animal, not a human being."
"Regina, you are aware that that is how many men view their brides," he pointed out. When all she did in return was glare at him, he held up both of his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I know that that is not the way it should be, but unfortunately, that is the way it is. I want you to find someone who truly falls in love with you, but I can tell you now that that will not be easy."
"So then I shall never marry," she declared, as if that solved everything. She knew it did not though, not in their society the way it was, a point that was emphasized by the shaking of his head.
"Querida, you know as well as I do that that would never work. You would be homeless as soon as I pass into what lies in wait for us after death, and I cannot bear the thought of that, let alone seeing it come to pass."
His words made her frightened. Would he force her to do something just to ensure that she would not end up a homeless harlot on the street? His next words, though, assuaged her fears. "You have no need to worry, however. I have no wish to see you enter into a marriage with someone who is unworthy of you. I will not force you to do something you do not wish to do."
She rose from the chair and kissed his brow. "Thank you, Daddy."
Her fears subsided, Regina left the room. She had lessons to plan, and a little boy (who despite their short acquaintance was quickly turning into a man) that she absolutely refused to disappoint.
(********)
When she next went into town to meet Henry, she wondered what she would find. After all, they had never officially set the time of their next meeting, she was simply going to wait by their tree at their usual time and see if he showed up. If not, she could always stop by the office of the paper to see how he was doing. Given that she had encouraged him to take a chance and go ask for a position, she felt a sense of responsibility that would be disastrous if it came to pass that things weren't going well for him.
She entered the office of the paper, looking around for a familiar young face. However, she didn't see him. Spotting Leroy, she asked, "Have you seen Henry?"
"Who?" he asked, his expression one of confusion, which made her heart sink. It was evident that something was amiss.
"Henry," she repeated. "A young boy with brown hair and hazel eyes. From what I understand he's working here now?" She ended the sentence on an inquisitive note, not knowing at this point if he was in fact working here now or not. Given his reaction, it could go either way, and she was hoping that her fears had no foundation.
"Oh, him," Leroy exchanged a look with Isaac and laughed. "Sister, he came in here asking for a job and let me tell you, I had not heard anything that funny in the longest time. The lad can barely read or write! I sent him packing the day he waltzed in here, told him he had to come back with some marketable skills if he actually wanted to work here and wanted us to take him seriously."
There had been times in the past when her family had advised her to tame her tongue, that that was something she needed to work on to have a better reputation around town. There were times that yes, she felt it was necessary to remain silent, or at least refrain from sharing her true feelings. Now, however, was certainly not one of those times. "How dare you. That boy clearly needs help, to catch a break in this world and have a way to provide for his family, but you rejected him? Did you even give him a chance to show you he could do it?"
Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, Isaac shook his head. "Of course not. The boy may have an imagination, but without being able to write, he is no use to us except as an errand boy- and we have Leroy for that. I'm sorry, miss, but we have no reason to have him here. Why do you care for the lad so much, anyway? He is far beneath any of our notice."
If she had thought she was angry before, now she was livid. "How dare you? He is a human being just like anyone else. Saying he is beneath your notice is like saying it is not worthwhile to give to the poor. Everyone deserves a chance to prove their worth, no matter their age or station in life."
Both men crossed their arms over their chests and regarded her with thoughtful expressions. Had she actually managed to get somewhere? "Why do you care so much?" Leroy asked.
She hesitated. Admitting that she was teaching Henry to read and write would not help Henry's situation in the slightest. She had no doubt that all learning that knowledge would do would be to make Leroy and Isaac ostracize Henry for good because he had been taught by a woman. "The injustice of it," she finally chose to respond. "I can't bear to look on and remain silent if I see something like this happening. As I said before, everyone deserves a chance, and a second chance as well."
Both of the men before her were silent for a moment. "Very well," Isaac finally said. "We shall give him a week. If he can prove his worth to us in that time, we will allow him to work with us." At Leroy's furious glare, he shrugged. "Worst comes to worst, he can be our errand boy. And I bet he can sneak in somewhere unnoticed, which means you can obtain all the gossip your heart desires."
It was a fair deal, she had to admit. That is, if Henry acquiesced to their plan. "I will talk to him and let you know," she said, turning to leave.
"This offer ends today, sister," Leroy called after her. "So if he wants to do this, he needs to let us know before we leave."
She left the newspaper office with a spring in her step. How she had managed to convince Leroy and Isaac to give Henry a chance, she was not entirely sure, given how much they had been laughing at his attempt to get a job there when their conversation began, but nevertheless, she was thrilled. Now all she had to do was find Henry and tell him about Leroy and Isaac's offer.
The problem with that plan, though, was that she had no idea where to look. Henry had never told her where he lived, so she was left to wander the streets looking for him. The lack of direction unnerved her, for she knew the urgency of her mission. If Henry did not go to the newspaper office and accept by the end of the day, this opportunity would be lost to him.
At last, she realized that she would never be able to find him without a little extra help. She caught the attention of a man who was about her age, whom she could tell from his tattered clothes would possibly have an idea of Henry's whereabouts. "Excuse me, can you help me find someone? His name is Henry, he is about ten years old, brown hair, about this tall," she demonstrated, holding her hand up to where Henry's head would come up to if he was standing next to her.
The man nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I know Henry! Great kid." He frowned. "He has a rough life though. He's probably home."
"Can you take me to him?" she asked. She held out her hand. "My name is Regina."
"Aladdin, but you can call me Al," he responded, shaking her hand. She noticed that dirt from his hand rubbed off on hers, but she kept her expression complacent, resolving to rectify the issue once she had found Henry and ensured that his position at the newspaper was secure.
She nodded. "Pleasure to meet you. Now, where can we find Henry?"
Without another word, he led her to a narrow alley off of the main square. There, he knocked on a green door that was hanging off of its hinges.
"Henry, go answer the door!" a man's voice yelled.
"Henry's father, Neal," Aladdin muttered to Regina, answering her quizzical expression.
Regina frowned. "Does he have a mother?" She had a guess what Aladdin's answer would be, but she was fervently hoping that she was wrong.
Aladdin sighed. "Tamara died when Henry was a baby. His father, Neal, has been this way ever since."
She had thought that her heart had broken when she first met Henry and learned about some of the details of his living situation. However, given that she had learned that information when she barely knew him, it was nothing compared to how she felt now. Her heart had now been shattered into a million pieces, the fragments so small that they were practically invisible to the naked eye. She wanted to help him now more than ever. From the little she had seen and heard, Neal was the furthest thing from a fit parent for him. Now all she wanted to do was scoop him up and whisk him away with her so he would not have to deal with having this man for a father ever again. Knowing Henry, he would still try to take care of him, but Regina would do her best to ensure that he saw as little of the man as possible.
Finally, the door opened, and she was looking into Henry's slack-jawed expression. "Regina!" he whispered, rapidly shutting the door behind him. "How did you find me? What are you doing here?" Then he saw Aladdin, and he appeared angry, which she didn't want him to do in the slightest. This whole afternoon was not going as she had planned. "Why did you bring her here? I thought I told you not to. She does not need to see this."
"Yes, I do," she corrected him gently. "Henry, I care about you so much. If you have a parent who will not take care of you like they are supposed to, I want to help."
""You do not have to help. I can handle it," he said defensively. "I have been for years, after all."
"But you should not have to," she said fervently. "Come home with me. I will make sure you are well provided for."
"I do not need or want to be your charity case," he replied fiercely. "I can take care of myself. Besides, if I leave, no one will take care of him."
She sighed. This was not going to be as easy as she thought. While she admired his devotion to his father, she did not want him to waste his time on a lost cause. He had more important things to do that would secure his future and ensure that it was the productive, profitable one he deserved. "Henry, I admire that, I really do, but you are just a child."
"I am not a child," he muttered.
She profusely apologized, telling him, "That's not quite what I meant. He is your parent. Therefore, he should be taking care of you, not the other way around. You do not have to save everyone, Henry."
"I have to, though!" he refuted fiercely. "I do not even want to think about what shall happen to him if I do not! You cannot tell me he will be perfectly fine on his own. I know better than that. If I just take better care of him, he will get better."
She sighed. Clearly, his opinion was not going to change easily. She decided to change the subject, knowing that for now, they were getting nowhere- and besides, they had other matters of import to discuss. "I came because I talked to Leroy and Isaac. I heard what happened last week, Henry."
She didn't think it was possible, but his face became even more crestfallen at her words. "They were so cruel. I never want to go back there again."
She frowned, disappointed. Maybe she had made the wrong decision after all. "Really? Are you sure? Even if they said they want to give you a chance?"
His head lifted from where he had been staring at his shoes, his whole face alight with hope at those words. "What?"
She smiled. "I came into town for our lesson today. When you did not show up, I went to the newspaper office and they told me what happened."
His face fell, his eyes once again on his shoes. "Then you know what they think of me. I am a failure."
She put her hand on his shoulder and lifted his chin with her finger. "You are not a failure." She had a guess as to what his answer to her next question would be, but she wanted to make sure. "Why did you not meet me today?"
He shrugged. "They do not want me at the paper, so it did not seem worth your time to continue lessons. You have been so kind teaching me, I didn't want you to waste your time with something that would not be worth it in the end."
She sighed, bringing him close to her, resting her head on his when he burrowed in closer. "Henry, you are not a failure at all. You were never wasting my time, not in the slightest. I want to teach you, to help you, and not because I see you as a charity case. I do it because you are my friend, and I want to see you succeed in whatever you want to do. I believe you have the intellect, the passion, to do whatever you want to do with your life. I know it is easier said than done, but all you need to do is believe in yourself, and I hope that knowing I believe in you helps you take the first steps in that direction."
"Really? You really think so?" he asked, looking up at her, his eyes holding a hint of hope again.
"I really do," she whispered, pressing an impromptu kiss into his hair. "Now, do you want to go talk to Leroy and Isaac?"
"Do you really think I can do it?" he asked, his voice still unsure.
"I do. I do not think telling them that I am teaching you how to read and write will help in the slightest, but I do think you need to try."
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice still timid.
"I am," she replied firmly. "And if they do not let you do anything, we will simply find another way to help you increase your reputation as a writer." She smiled. "I believe that if you want to, you can do anything."
He sighed, squaring his shoulders. "All right. Let's go."
They turned and left, walking back to the newspaper office where Isaac and Leroy were waiting. When they arrived at the door, she put her hand on his shoulder. "Do you want me to come in with you this time? Only as a show of support, of course. You can do this on your own, I promise."
He sighed, looking inside, where they could see Leroy and Isaac hard at work writing and typing, bits of paper covering the entirety of the tables where they typed and assembled the news of the day. "I do not know. On the one hand, I think it would be wise to do it on my own, so that I have more of a sense of independence. However, you are the reason I have this opportunity in the first place, so if you come in as a show of support, they would not think it was strange." He sighed. "What do you think?"
"I think I will come in, but stand to wait for you just inside the door," she decided, shivering at the chill in the air. "It is starting to be too cold to wait outside."
He cocked his head to the side, clearly pondering something. "Should we find somewhere else for our lessons then?"
"Perhaps, but we shall discuss that during next week's lesson," she told him, squeezing his shoulder. "Right now, you have more important things to do."
With that settled, they walked in. Sending up a fervent prayer to whomever was listening, Regina waited for Henry by the door, just as she had promised.
"Can we help you?" Isaac asked. Regina groaned internally. The man knew exactly what Henry was doing there, so why he was pretending otherwise, Regina had no idea.
"I was told that you have a place for me, that I could work here on a trial basis?" Henry asked. Regina's heart soared with pride when his voice didn't waver in the slightest, the confidence he had seemed to lack earlier demonstrated in spades now.
Leroy nodded. "To tell you the truth, I was not happy about it, but then it was brought to our attention that that was not a fair way to conduct business, so we revised our way of thinking."
"If the lady over there neglected to tell you details of our agreement, you have one week to prove yourself to us," Isaac informed him, handing him a stack of papers. "And you can start by making sure these are all in order before you start distributing them. Do you think you can do that?"
Henry nodded eagerly. "Yeah!"
Regina smiled as they handed him more stacks of paper, silently turning, opening the door and seeing herself out. She knew she had left Henry in a much happier state than when she had found him, which truthfully, was all she wanted for him.
She made her way back home, now filled with ideas for what she could write about in her letter to Mr. Locksley. She highly doubted that he would agree with her point of view in this matter, and she had no desire to tell him many details for that reason (though she didn't care what he thought). However, in a way, that was one of the main reasons she wanted to discuss this with him. It would likely spark a lively debate between them, and she looked forward to what he would say in response to hearing her point of view.
Once she got home, she retrieved a pen, paper and ink from their respective places in the house and, since it was later in the day, sequestered herself in her father's study. She always found that when she was here, she was less likely to be disturbed, which was exactly what she wanted at the moment.
Dipping the pen into the pot of ink, she placed the ink at the top of the page, still unsure of how she would begin. Finally, she decided to select the greeting that was most comfortable for her.
Dear Mr. Locksley,
Truthfully, I am at a bit of a loss as to what information these letters should contain. As you yourself noted, we have an abundance of different opinions on various matters, and as such, it is difficult to know where to begin.
I suppose I shall start with the contents of the letter you sent. I agree wholeheartedly that I find the written word just as useful, if not more so, as the spoken word for expressing one's thoughts and feelings. While the spoken word is more liberating and spontaneous, the written word is, truthfully, the wiser form of communication, for as one writes, they may consider in advance what they desire to say next, and thus avoid the mortification and regret that often come with speaking too quickly, which, if you are like me, happens far too frequently. Given the nature of our interactions during the course of our acquaintance, it was perhaps wise of you to choose to initiate a written correspondence, so that we may both more accurately convey our opinions, without letting our tempers inhibit our ability to communicate.
Your sentiments are appreciated. I must admit, I was rather appalled when you decreed me, "barely tolerable" that night at the ball, and had since thought that it was not worth my time to try to understand your way of thinking. This was part of the reason behind the surprise I felt when I received your letter. How was it possible, I thought, for two such different people to tame their tongues- physical or otherwise- enough to have a civilized conversation?
Part of the reason why is the error in judgement you mentioned. I do not know to which error you refer in your letter, but at this moment, I wish to address a matter that was brought to my attention before you and your party left, and has since been mentioned here in Arlington. I'm loathe to take one man's word as truth in this matter, given that while my source is reliable, there are always two sides to every story. Therefore, would you care to enlighten me as to the nature of your relationship (or lack thereof) with Mr. Nolan, and the reasons behind it?
I also wish to learn your opinion on another matter, for though I have my suspicions as to what your thoughts are going to be, I am curious to learn if my presumptions are correct. I have a friend who, though he is not fully literate, is eager to learn and wishes to practice at the office of our local newspaper. He was rejected and ridiculed, and while the matter is settled now- or at least, in a better place- I wish to learn your opinion. Shouldn't someone who wants the opportunity to become more learned have the right and opportunities to do so?
I look forward to your response.
Miss Mills
Regina read through what she had written, wanting to make sure that she was accurately conveying her thoughts. She had no desire to disclose all of Henry's tragic story to Mr. Locksley. After all, that was Henry's story to tell. However, she was curious to know what he would think.
At last, she sealed the letter and prepared it to be sent off. Only time would tell what this correspondence would bring, but no matter what, knowing Mr. Locksley, it would be interesting.