Serena leaned forward to pat him on the knee. ‘But Julianne is the only one who has even met a man, so stop counting troubles before they’ve beset you. Right now, we are here and we are together.
‘You’re a good girl, Serena.’ He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. ‘It is still a shame that Mr King did not find you desirable as a wife.’
Oh, but he did, Papa. He did. She bit on her lip. Dare she admit to the truth?
‘Papa?’ She gulped.
‘Yes, lass?’
‘Wh...what if he did? Want me as a wife, I mean?’
Papa stared hard at her for a long moment, then his shoulders relaxed. ‘So, I was right. Was I also correct in the assumption that you care for Mr King, too?’
She chewed her lip again. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Did he ask for your hand?’
‘Well ... yes. I know he didn’t come and ask for your permission first. It was very spontaneous, but yes, he proposed.’
‘And you said no?’
Serena flung her hands in the air. ‘How could I say yes? I was not sure of his sincerity.’
‘But now you are?’ He eyed her.
‘Yes, I believe he was indeed sincere.’ Her voice sounded small in her ears. ‘But, Papa, he is, by all accounts, mentally unsound. I couldn’t possibly marry him.’
‘I see.’ Papa’s face was grim.
‘What do you mean, “I see”?’
Papa fingered the edge of the blanket for several long moments. ‘Would you really deny a man love because of an illness?’
Serena opened her mouth, but had no real response to offer.
‘Did you stop loving your mother and walk away when she suffered dropsy all those years?’
Serena stared hard at her father. ‘No Papa. I would never have abandoned her.’
‘Will you stop loving and caring for me, now I have the rheumatism? Do you want to leave me?’
She twisted her fingers together. ‘No. Of course not.’
‘But you would do that to Mr King? Perhaps you do not love him after all.’ Papa closed his eyes then, signalling the end of the conversation and moments later, deep breaths lifted his chest. He was asleep.
But it wasn’t me who left. Edward had told her to leave. It was different.
But it wasn’t. She hadn’t exactly fought him on the issue, or stayed despite his words. Papa was right. She had deserted Edward in his hour of need. Serena had heard the wedding vows that couples spoke often enough. In sickness and in health. Did sickness only mean physical and passing illnesses? No. A proper commitment meant one stayed through the worst of circumstances. True love was unconditional, unbiased and all-encompassing.
Serena dropped her head into her hands. I’ve been such a fool. She sat and pondered her father’s words for a long time before rising from the chair beside him. With a brief touch of her hand to Papa’s smooth cheek, she turned and took the painting to her room. She stowed the garments in her trunk with a tender smile, then placed the precious miniature next to her bed where she could see it always. Letting out a cleansing breath, she whispered, ‘I shall do as you ask, Edward. I shall always remember you with fondness.’ She planted a kiss on the tiny frame and straightened, a crease forming between her brows.
The similarity between what she had just done and what her whole family had done years ago with Mama struck her. No, it couldn’t be. Edward did not express that kind of goodbye, surely. Or did he? Too many mournful thoughts fuelled her imagination. It was merely a considerate goodbye so her memories of him wouldn’t be tainted and sour. That’s all.
But, as Serena busied herself over the next few days, the thought niggled. Whether walking to the noisy market, hanging washing in the sunshine, kneading the dough, or making beds, the doubt refused to leave her alone. What if Edward planned to end his life? Should she make a trip to Aleron to check on him? But she would look foolish if she were wrong. Quite foolish. It was probably a silly worry, anyway. Surely it was.
But what if it wasn’t?
What if her gut feeling was correct? After all, he had almost leapt from that cliff weeks ago, and threatened to walk into the ocean. At the cliffs he had been in a different frame of mind. Elated. Not despairing as of late. In desperation, would he do something similar? Dear God, please don’t let him do something terrible.
No matter how much Serena talked to herself, tried to convince herself otherwise, her conviction grew each day. And the more it grew, the more she prayed she was wrong.
‘What has you frowning so much?’ Rachel quizzed her one afternoon.
Serena glanced up at her. ‘Frowning?’ She shrugged. ‘Why, I’m just cross over the stain in this sheet.’
‘No, that’s not it,’ her sister argued with a knowing grimace.
Serena put the sheet she’d been about to fold back in the basket. ‘I cannot stop thinking about Mr King. I think something is wrong.’
‘Why do you think so?’
‘I don’t really know. Something in his letter. I’m not sure. I have this feeling that all is not right and I cannot shake it.’
Rachel picked up one end of the sheet and gestured for Serena to take the other end. ‘Perhaps you should go and see.’
Serena pulled the end of the sheet taut. ‘I don’t want to appear a silly worrier.’
‘Well, don’t.’
‘Don’t what? Don’t go?’
‘No. Don’t appear a silly worrier.’ Rachel pulled against her and then they folded the ends together.
‘Ha. Easy for you to say. Isn’t worry your middle name?’ Serena pulled a little harder than needed and made her sister lose balance.
They fell into each other, giggling.
‘Seriously, though, go there on the pretence of a friendly visit. Take a basket of goodies with you or something. Make subtle inquiries. If you are wrong, you shall soon find out.’
Serena opened
