Chapter Seven
Viola's heart was heavy as the man slowly steered the boat towards the shore on which her home stood, looming ever closer. She wondered if she would ever be able to call it home again. It was the place where her parents had sold her off to the highest bidder, and where she had slept with that horrid playwright. But maybe if her nurse was still there, she could feel more comfortable, like she had at least one true friend.
She paid the boatman with a coin she had been given by Sir Thomas, and she walked sedately up the walk, trying not to rush. She had no great need to enter that house.
Instead of using the back door, the way she usually did when she was alone, she walked around to the front of the house. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, preparing for the moment when she would have to explain what had happened to her. Then she knocked, the heavy brass knocker making a deep, resonating sound within the house.
The maid opened. She had always been a dim-witted creature, and it took her a moment to recognize her mistress. Then she screamed and ran up the stairs, yelling so that the whole house might hear, "Lady Viola is back! Lady Viola is back!"
Viola took a small step into the house, looking around apprehensively. She had thought never to return here, and now she wished she was still speaking to Will, so that she might stay by his side.
The entire household was soon gathered about her, summoned by the maid. They gazed at her in wonder, no one daring to speak, afraid it was not her. And she did not feel like talking to them, having never felt too kindly for the people who so diligently did her parents' bidding.
Soon her nurse arrived, sobbing with joy, dabbing at her cheeks with her apron. She rushed up to Viola and hugged her, repeating over and over, "I thought you'd never return!"
"Good Nurse!" Viola said when they had separated. "How wonderful to see you! You look well."
The nurse smiled a little, though waving a hand to dismiss Viola's comments.
"You know well that I am no longer your nurse, dear Lady, for now you are married. And where, pray tell, is your husband?"
Viola's expression hardened, and she said nothing. The whole household leaned forward to hear, thinking she was about to whisper something to the nurse, but the nurse nodded in understanding, knowing that her charge did not wish to speak of it.
"Viola? Is it you?"
Viola turned her head to see her mother descending the stairs, smiling cheerfully. She was elegantly clad in the finest silks, and Viola knew that she had gone to the market to celebrate her daughter's marriage. And even though she was her own mother, she could not help despising the woman.
"Yes, Mother, I am here," Viola said coldly, all emotion finally drained out of her. She had experienced too much that day to be able to feel anger towards this stranger.
"Dearest, I thought you were in Virginia! What happened?" Lady de Lesseps asked as she embraced her daughter.
"We were shipwrecked. Lord Wessex is dead," she said calmly, without looking at her mother as she spoke.
There was a collective intake of breath from the household. Her mother embraced her once more, apparently feeling that her daughter needed consoling after the death of a much-hated husband.
"Dearest, how dreadful! To be widowed in less than a month! At least you are alive. God is merciful, to have spared your life. But how you must be grieving! Surely you will want some time to yourself. We have kept your room intact, you may go there to rest. I must write to your father with this most horrible news. Nurse, take Viola upstairs. And do be gentle, for she is a broken soul," Lady de Lesseps instructed.
The Nurse obliged, carefully leading her charge away from the prying eyes of the servants. She locked the door when they arrived, and barred the windows, as she was sure the Lady would wish. Viola said nothing, however, and sat silently on the edge of her bed, staring straight ahead at nothing.
"Nurse, he does not love me."
The nurse did not need a name to know of whom Viola was speaking. She said nothing, and continued her work, waiting for the rest of the story, which was sure to come.
"I went by his home after I arrived. I had to see him, for I have important news. I am with child."
There was a gasp on the Nurse's part, and she smiled, happy that her charge should experience the joys of motherhood, even though they are thanks to Lord Wessex.
"But the child is not my late husband's, dear Nurse, it is that of my lover. And I told him, and now he despises me. I am alone now, and I must pretend to grieve for my husband while carrying his child. What a cruel world this is!"
The nurse rushed forward to comfort the child, but she was brushed away.
"Spare the pity, dear Nurse, for I need it not. I wish to be alone for the moment. I shall speak to you later, for now I cannot speak of these things. Know that I do this not out of spite of you, but out of grief."
The nurse nodded, hearing the sorrow and pain in Viola's voice. She understood, knowing the girl better than even Will Shakespeare. Had it not been she who had raised Viola since infancy?
Curtsying, she left the room, quietly closing the door behind herself so as not to disturb Viola. She made sure to leave the key on the nightstand where Viola was sure to find it, should she feel herself in need of privacy.