“What are you talking about?” she pushes back to look up at him.
“Aiylin believes that we think she’s a failure. I need to talk to her,” he sighs. “Come with me?” he asks, holding out a hand.
“No daughter of mine is a failure, some of us are just late bloomers,” she takes his hand. “Now, let’s go knock some sense into her.”
Charles stops outside the library and listens to his daughter’s music. “Listen to her, Ida. It’s beautiful and …”
“Heartbreaking. It sounds lonely,” she sniffs, and he nods.
They push through and find Aiylin fussing in German as she rubs her wrist. Neither move for a second and the look of surprise on her face sends them both into fits of laughter.
“Aiylin!” her mother says, trying to sound outraged.
“Forgive me,” she grins, “but I think he bruised it.”
The happy moment evaporates, and Charles walks over to look down at his daughter. “Who bruised you?”
Aiylin jumps to her feet, holding the guitar in front of her like a shield. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. You should be packing for your trip.”
Ida walks over to take the guitar from her and steps away to put it down. She listens to them as she pours tea.
“I already have the tickets,” Charles says softly.
Ida’s eyes narrow as her daughter subconsciously rubs her wrist. Her anger grows at the thought of someone hurting her daughter.
“Aiylin Miller, you will tell me what happened today!” her father growls.
“No, Papa. I won’t. I handled it, and that’s all you need to know.”
The front door opens, and slams shut. Mena calls out and follows her mother’s voice to the library with Patrick on her heels.
“Aiylin!” she bursts into the room and rushes to her sister’s side.
“Everyone’s talking about it! Are you alright?”
“Not now, Mena!” she hisses and turns to pace in front of the fireplace.
“Talking about what?” her father demands.
Mena falls quiet and mouths, “Sorry,” to her sister.
“Langdon and I had a disagreement,” Aiylin states.
Patrick’s dark eyes shine with anger. “He had no right to touch you, Aiylin.”
Ida has been quietly listening until now. “Did he hurt you, Aiylin?” she asks, stepping in front of Charles.
“A little, he grabbed my wrist and insisted I come inside his shop,” she replies, looking at her Mother.
Charles and Mena start to talk at the same time, but Ida lifts a finger, “Wait!” she hisses, and silence follows.
“Were you afraid?” she demands and lifts her daughter's hand sliding the sleeve up to look at her wrist. It is red and swelling, but not bruised.
“Yes,” Aqua eyes meet, and she whispers, “He was vulgar and insulting, and didn’t like it when I said no. He got rough.”
“Has this happened before?” Charles asks calmly.
“No…, yes. I mean, he’s very forward, Papa. That’s one of the reasons I don’t trust him. He’s never touched me aggressively until now. Except to try to kiss me.” Shivers run through her body, and Mena wraps an arm around her shoulder. “There’s a darkness around him that scares me, and I think he enjoys the fear.”
“I’m going to kill him,” Mena declares, and Patrick smiles proudly.
“Not if I do first,” Ida snaps.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” her father asks with disappointment lacing his voice.
“I know you are disappointed that I’m not married. Ashamed that I’m not good enough for someone…”
“Rubbish! My daughters are a treasure greater than any found on this planet. If I’ve not made you see that, then I am the only failure. I’m proud of both of you.”
He looks at Mena and touches her cheek with a tear shining in his eyes. “My Mena, you are so strong, to live through such loss and fight to stay with us. I wouldn’t have been so strong if I’d lost your mother. The Lord has rewarded your faith with a man who will love and protect you.”
“Thank you, Papa,” she glances at Patrick and rushes into his arms. Turning back to his oldest daughter, he steps closer.
“My Aiylin, how could you not know how special you are? The Lord has gifted you with an indescribable talent, though I’m not speaking of your musical abilities. That is a rare gift, but the beautiful, faithful spirit that it takes to wait on the Lord. Every breath you take makes me proud to call you my daughter.” His tears stream down his cheeks unchecked now, and he pulls her into his barrel chest.
“Papa!” she weeps in his arms, and the relief she feels is incomparable. He presses a kiss her forehead and turns with a glare of anger. “Patrick?”
“Yes, Sir. My carriage is out front.”
Ida smiles when Charles turns and walks quietly from the room. Patrick follows.
“Papa!” Aiylin shouts and runs after him, but Ida stops her.
“No. Langdon had no right to touch you in anger. You deserve better than that. Now we are going to talk about your self-worth.”
“Mama,” Aiylin sits down and drops her face into her hands.
Ida sits and sips her tea while her daughters sit across from her. “We owe you an apology, Aiylin.”
Her head jerks up, and both girls stare in surprise.
“You heard me. Your worth is not found in the men you marry. It can only be found inside your heart. The faith you show walking with such grace makes me so proud.”
“Even if I never marry?” she asks softly. Mena takes her hand in hers.
“Of course, you will marry.” Her sister insists. “It just may not be on the time table we set for you.”
“Thank you,” she murmurs. The weight that has been crushing her is lifted, and Aiylin smile is tremulous.
“Now, Mena,” Ida says with a glance. “Were you really going to marry without us present? Are you trying to break your
