Fanny collapsed as soon as she entered her room. She held her breath and released it in intervals, crying to regain control.
"Mistress," Allie ran to Fanny, kneeling by her side, placing one hand on her back and taking her hand with the other.
Allie and Fanny had developed a relationship akin to friendship in the short time Fanny had lived in Everingham. Like the rest of the servants and neighbors, Allie adored Fanny for her unassuming and charitable ways, believing completely the girl their Master married to be a saint. Seeing her in such a state shocked and disturbed Allie.
"Allie, please do not let Henry in," Fanny shook her head. "Anyone at all. I need …" Here she sighed. But Allie understood. A woman such as Fanny needed space to unleash her emotions, away from any eyes. However, she was suspicious as to why specifically mentioned the Master. He must have done her wrong.
This lit a flame of loyalty in Allie, angered that anyone would upset her precious mistress in such a way. She took Fanny from the floor and in a quick and efficient manner, changed her into her night clothes. She left Fanny to the silence she knew she needed and stepped into the hall, determined to keep all people away, until her mistress was ready.
It was all Fanny could do to not burst as Allie prepared her for bed. She had no need for assistance, but the maid had expressed such hurt feelings when she rejected her services before, Fanny bore through it. Allie left, and Fanny would not know how to repay such kindness or such attentions to her feelings and needs.
Once alone, Fanny's legs buckled. Kneeling against the floor, she pressed her face against the softness of her bed. The dull ache in her heart seemed to sense vulnerability and it grew into almost unbearable pain. The wounds Fanny had thought healed revived and pulsed. Her family, her uncle, her cousins. Every insult, every look, and even every ignored moment that had lashed the smallest of injuries came together.
Fanny tried to control it, but it poured from her with such force.
Her family was now living in a modest neighborhood in Ramsgate, courtesy of Henry, but there was still guilt for such luxuries that she was surrounded with. Her inability to turn her brothers into respectable gentlemen or her sisters into ladies of society or to retire her parents to the best seaside houses was a sorrow, Maria had brutally exposed. Henry certainly had the resources, but she could never ask that of him, not after all he had done to date for them. Nor, she thought, but only in the furthest corners of her mind, would it be good for her family.
Regardless, her family was her own and how she loved them. Dearest William and Susan and the rest.
And Edmund. The thought of him produced fresh tears. How she had loved him. She allowed herself to accept that she had loved him. So completely, it had driven her into marriage, in an attempt to escape. Sir Thomas had not been the sole reason, she herself accepted the marriage.
Which lead her thoughts to Henry. Her husband. As foreign as the idea felt, he was her husband. And he had betrayed her. She was sobbing into the sheets now. It was so far out of her control.
Henry had been so kind to her since their marriage. Henry with his shy glances, looking away quickly when she looked up at him, had made her smile. Who stared hard at an upside down book, trying to decipher it. Who was embarrassed of his less than perfect horseback riding. Who shielded her from the rain and thunder. Henry, who had looked at her with such care and concern that one night.
Now however, that same Henry had allowed another woman in his rooms. To kiss him…
Fanny gasped, trying to grasp for air between sobs. But air only twisted the knife in her heart, twirling it mercilessly.
It must have been a game to him, to make her heart waver as he did. What a laugh he could have now, greater than when he toyed with those ladies as a bachelor. This had been his greatest conquest yet. He had lead the pitiful Fanny all the way to marriage.
Fanny finally lifted her head, for the sole reason that she had no tears remaining. Her face burned and her eyes were raw.
She cleaned her face with a handkerchief and she moved to the small balcony in the far side of her room. Opening the door, she relished in the cool night air as it stroked her tear-stained face. She stepped out, observing the outline of the great lands that now belonged to her. How could she have so much yet nothing at all?
The stars twinkled happily, oblivious to the turmoil inside of her. She felt her heart beat hard inside her chest, but it was steady. Fanny knew she would bear it, because she had done so before, and she would again.
