Ch. 34

When Erik heard the knock on his door, he almost wished that he hadn't. He could even say that he regretted his decision to summon the Lady's Maid for a brief moment, until he reminded himself of his reason.

After he had called out permission for her to enter his domain, as the ocurrence of allowing a servant into his private quarters had been a rarity, he did not look at her. Instead, he continued to write the letter that he had been writing that morning, though the contents of it pained him.

It was a letter to his wife, and one that would bring her good news at the cost of his anguish. He imagined that she would be elated by it; perhaps she would even smile to herself as she read it. As sickening as it was, he even wished that he could see that smile one last time, even if he did not like the reason for it.

Marguerite stood silently and watched as he penned the last few words of the note that was too far away for her to read-not that she would take the liberty to do so, anyway-before he signed his name in an elegant signature. She knew by the saddened expression on his face that whatever it said could not have been pleasant on her Master's nerves.

After he had sealed it with a crimson-colored wax in the emblem of a rose, he finally raised his eyes to look at her and attempted to replace his cold and aloof demeanor. But Marguerite had seen too many pained expressions and knew the silent sufferings of her employers and thus could see past his facade. She only wished that there was something that she could do for the both of them, but she was at a loss as to what it was.

"Please see to it that Mrs. Destler receives this," he said softly as he handed the sealed envelope to her. "And I ask that you assist her in preparing her belongings for departure, as well as yours."

Marguerite suddenly looked up at him and couldn't hide the entirety of her shock from her features. "Please, excuse me for asking, but; are we to go somewhere?"

Erik looked away from her and his jaw tightened visibly. If only there were some other way, though he knew this choice to be the wisest.

"Immediately before the winter season, I managed to secure a villa along the Mediterranean seaside. It was meant to be a surprise for her," he replied sadly.

Marguerite suddenly realized that this must have been what he was doing while he had left the household for a few weeks during the previous year, and her heart sank. How terrible it was that something so unfortunate should have happened to Mrs. Destler while her husband was preparing something so wonderful!

Her first thought would have been that now was the opportunity for the couple to rekindle their bond; they could retire to the seaside for a while and enjoy their time together. But she could not ignore the feeling that it was not quite so, as she watched the emotions on his face that also said otherwise.

"How long shall we be away?" she asked. "I only ask in order to know what should be brought," she added with humility.

"At the moment, it seems indefinitely, unless she wishes to acquire a different estate for herself. I will give her a sum of money to do as she pleases," he responded. "Combined with her inheritance from her aunt, she will be a wealthy woman."

Marguerite immediately disliked what his words were telling her-that Mrs. Destler would be taking this venture without him and would not be returning. What a terrible idea! How was she to silence the protests within herself in front of her employer?

Multiple questions begged to be answered and she had the strongest desire to persuade him out of his decision, but she knew that it was wrong of her to do so. How could she possibly think that she had the prerogative to behave in such a way, as a mere servant?

And yet, she could only think of the harm that would be brought upon the household. Though the couple's relationship had fallen apart and held on only by strings, this would be what would sever it permanently. And by the sound of it, Marguerite assumed that somehow her Mistress would be a free woman, though she was not certain how (after all, divorce was certainly not an option, unless he wished to tarnish what little reputation she had, and the only other option...she shuddered to think it).

She bit her lip and tried her hardest not to allow her headstrong personality to appear, but one small and out-of-her-place question managed to escape her lips. "You will not be joining us?"

Erik did not respond. She wondered if he had even heard her, as she searched his face for any sign of it. She could only see the utter pain written on his countenance as he stared out of the window, the daylight reflecting in his honey-and-green-colored eyes, and she knew what the answer was.

And so she turned around and left with an exasperated sigh and a frown, wondering how her Mistress would receive the terrible news of their permanent departure and attempting adamently not to turn around and convince him otherwise.

Estella was in a lighter mood and had been contemplating a walk for a few minutes before she decided that she would take one. She even had the desire to ask Erik to join her, though she wasn't certain that he would even agree to one, anyway. Still, she hoped that she would gather the courage to ask him on her way to his room.

Before she had reached her door, however; Marguerite came rushing in without even so much as a knock or asking permission to enter, gasping for breath as she had apparently ran down the long hallway to reach her. Estella would have normally mentioned this invasion of privacy with slight irritancy, but she saw the worry on the young maid's face. She also noticed the letter that she held in her hand, and she could not help but to feel anxious, herself.

"Mr. Destler...is sending us away!" she panted, placing a hand on her chest in an attempt to calm her heaving chest.

"What?" Estella asked, both confused and astounded.

"He has an estate near the Mediterranean coast, and he says that we are to go there indefinitely!"

Estella could not conceal the dread that she now felt and she tried to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She should have know that this would happen, after all; how could she expect to stay in his estate after what had transpired? He was probably ashamed of her, or worse, disgusted by her.

"Has he...has he discovered my secret?"

Marguerite shook her head fervently, for she knew that if Mr. Destler had been made aware of what had happened, he most certainly would not be sending them away. He had never been one to be cruel, and she knew the affection that he had for his wife, even if he had not spoken it aloud.

"I am certain that he has not," she said. "He has written this letter for you."

Estella immediately opened the letter to see somewhat elegant but also scribbled words and her heart raced.

"Mrs. Destler,

This shall be the last time in which I will call you this, for in less than one week, you will be free of that title.

I have come to the realization throughout these past few months that you are no longer satisfied with your current circumstances, and now understand that you wish for your freedom. I would like to provide a solution.

While I was away last autumn I happened to acquire a villa along the seaside which I think shall service you well. You may stay there as long as you wish; I only ask that if you decide to secure a new residence for yourself elsewhere that you notify me, so that I might handle the property accordingly.

If you are wondering how it is that you will have the choice to remain alone or to remarry again without being vulnerable to the gossip and slander of a divorce, then let me assure you that I will by no means dishonor you in such a way. As you already know, society knows very little about me, save for hearing of my name and occupation. They need only believe that I am dead and have left a wealthy widow to do as she pleases. I will handle the details, so you need not worry, for I am certain that no one shall question the ruse. I expect that you will not reveal it to anyone.

I am aware that you now have an inheritance, but I shall also provide you a hefty sum as your husband for one final time. I will only provide this final favor and my association will not go any further; you will have peace in your life. I do hope that you will find what you are yearning for.

-Erik."

Estella was utterly perplexed as to why she was to be exiled if Erik did not know about what had happened to her honor. Could he have grown tired of her? Was she no longer able to captivate his interest as his wife?

Marguerite noticed the way in which her Mistress' eyes watered, and she wished to console her in any way that she could, though she did not know exactly how.

"Please do not think that it is because of what happened, M'Lady," she soothed.

"If he does not know what has happened then...then he must not want me anymore! I do not know which is worse!" Estella willed herself not to cry.

"I do not think that is it," Marguerite answered. She knew that the Master cared too much to send Mrs. Destler away without good reason. "I believe it to be the complete opposite of what you fear."

"You are not suggesting that I do not wish to remain here, are you? That I do not want his company?"

"I know it to be otherwise, M'Lady, but he does not. Please forgive my being so forthright, but you have hardly cast a glance in his direction since the autumn season!"

"Can you blame me for wanting nothing to do with a man during this time? I have thought many days on it, and I do miss his company. It wasn't until this very morning when I had finally allowed my thoughts to cultivate and gained the courage to wish to ask him for a walk," Estella defended herself.

"I do not blame you, M'Lady. You have every right to behave as you have, but he does not know why it is that you have kept to yourself. He has probably assumed the worst," she added softly. "Perhaps you should tell him?"

Estella agreed that it must have pained her husband to be unaware of the reason for her seclusion. She had had glimpses of his self-loathing and heartbroken past and she had not wanted to burden him further with the thought that he was unwanted by yet another person. How terrible she felt to instill the thoughts in his head that he was undesirable or abandoned, yet she could not possibly bring herself to tell him! How could she ever form the words?

She shook her head vigorously as the panic began to set in. She was to be cast away because of an awful misunderstanding that could not be remedied; exiled from the one person who had brought her such happiness and joy. She would be far away from the one man whom she could ever care about.

"I cannot tell him. Sometimes I wish to, but I do not know how..."

Marguerite drew closer to the woman who seemed to be on the verge of hysterics, holding her composure together by some invisible thread though she cried, and she looked at her with genuine concern. She placed a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Then give me permission to tell him, or else you shall lose the man whom you love."