Chapter Three

When she finally found her, Veronica was sitting on a log just inside the perimeter fence staring up at the stars. "May I sit with you?" Kayla asked. Veronica quickly reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks and said, "Of course" forcing a smile on her face. As Kayla sat down next to her Veronica asked, "What is it really like in London? From a woman's point of view, I mean." Kayla gave her a sideways glance and asked, " so, you are considering going back with us? Grandfather said you would never leave." Smiling, Veronica replied, " I never thought I would." Then more to herself than to Kayla, " But how can I just let him go and never see him again?" as a tear streaked down her cheek. Kayla put her arm around Veronica's shoulders and asked, "But what about your parents?" Veronica looked up at the stars and with a tremor in her voice said, "They are most likely dead." "No, dear," began Kayla, "Grandfather dreamt of them. He said in his dreams they were alive and trying everyday to come home to you." Veronica stopped crying and looked over at Kayla disbelieving. "What? How, Where?" she asked. "He didn't get the exact location but he assured me that you would find them." Veronica threw her arms around Kayla and cried, "Thank you! Thank you so much!" Then as if there were a switch she could flip, her happiness turned back to sadness as she thought of Ned. "But... Ned will leave," she concluded. "Maybe, maybe not. Don't you think he should be given the choice? Maybe you should talk to him, tell him how you feel about him. So if he does leave at least you will never regret not telling him" Kayla explained. Veronica smiled and began to chuckle. "You ARE Arthur Summerlee's granddaughter," she laughed as she hugged a grinning Kayla.

Meanwhile, William had gone in search of Marguerite. He found her in her room frantically throwing cloths into her trunk and packing her gems away in her knapsack. "So...you could just up and leave?" he asked skeptically. "Just like that?" She jumped at the sound of his voice and said angrily, "Well, I guess it is just something I learned from you." It was like a slap in the face but then again he knew he deserved that. "I came looking for you to tell you something," he stated. "And I'm not leaving until I do!" She wheeled around on him and spat "Nothing you say could ever make me love you again or forgive you for that matter!" He began to laugh out loud. "You think that's why I'm here?" She jerked her head back and looked at him, "Your not?" she asked trying her best to sound like she didn't really care. He stood there looking at her for a moment. Without a word she turned back to the task at hand and tried to ignore him. "Do you think he will wait forever?" William queried all humor gone from his face. "Who?" Marguerite shot back, knowing full well whom he meant. He shot her a knowing glance and then proceeded, "Marge, I DID come to find you to ask for forgiveness," he stated. She looked up from packing, the hatred diminishing from her face, "Why would you want MY forgiveness? I pushed you away." She stood there staring back at him; sadness creeping into her eyes as the memory came to mind. "Ha! You pushed me away? How?" he asked. as he moved closer to her. "Um.... err....um....I don't know. It's a gift! All I do know is everyone leaves me for some reason! I'm unlovable! My parents, you, then...all people who I thought could never leave someone they supposedly loved so much!" He waited for her to finish noticing how the tears crept into her eyes as she spoke of her parents. "Marguerite," he began. "I did love you. I still do and probably always will, but as you said before, we were young. Too young! I was overwhelmed with our marriage. I couldn't take care of myself, much less a wife. And then a child!!" At mention of the baby, Marguerite let go of her pride and let the tears stream freely down her cheeks. She had tried for so long to put it out of her mind. Yet, there wasn't a day that went by that she hadn't thought of the baby and what her life might have been like with William and their child had he stayed with her. She barely heard his next question. "What happened to the baby? Where is it?" She searched her thoughts for a moment. Then a sad, small smile crept onto her face as she said, "Even my own unborn child didn't want to love me." As William stood there speechless she turned and walked away from him. "I had a miscarriage three weeks after you left." He didn't know what to say. He sat down on the edge of her bed and put his head in his hands. After what seemed like an eternity, he got up, walked over to her, and turned her to face him. "I am so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me most," tears streamed down his cheeks as he knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "Please, forgive me," he begged. "And more importantly, forgive yourself. It wasn't your fault. It never has been." At that, she began to cry harder as he stood up and took her into his arms. She had never thought she could feel slightly good about the situation but, there in Williams arms, finally knowing and suddenly understanding what happened and why, she began to feel a little better. She finally had closure on that one little part of her life. And most importantly, she felt, with Williams's help, she had finally been able to forgive, although she could never forget, herself for the loss of her child.