Chapter 23 ~ Home Again

The fifth day of October dawned bright and warm as if blessing her marriage. Ava sat one final time in the orangery, deeply inhaling the exotic scents, letting the too warm room ease her tension. She could scarcely believe that just the night before she had been safe within his arms, his soft slumbering breath against her ear. There was no denying she loved him, relished the way he made her feel yet deep down she worried.

Her grandfather startling her as he spoke. “It does my heart poorly to see you so forlorn,” George had been carefully watching his beloved granddaughter for several minutes. Watching the expressions on her face as she mutely cogitated, he could tell she worried over something; saw her obvious struggle between the love and the nervousness she felt.

The vision though joyous, equally heartbreaking as he thought of Annette and the final time he had seen her in the very same spot. Allowed himself to feel the pain over the loss of his only daughter, a loss that had wrought years of scandalous whispers.

Seating himself beside Ava upon the bench, he focused his gaze on the soothing, glistening beads of water that rained down from the mouth of the fountain. Pushed away his sorrow as he struggled to come up with something that would ease her discontentment. “This was your mother’s favorite room as well,” he eventually murmured soothingly, his voice breaking the sedate sounds of the gurgling water.

“Twas heart breaking; just a week before she ran off I had found her just as you.” He fought to contain the choking of his voice, struggled to withhold the tears at the memory. Despite his knowledge that Ava would certainly pursue the statement, push for more information.

Her grandfather's comment stunned her; excited her, for it was a rare occasion that her grandmother nor any other dared speak of her mother. "Was she not happy?" she tentatively questioned. Hoping that George would continue, her interest and desire to know more of her mother at its peak.

Turning to face her George smiled, the gesture lighting his face and to Ava at least, making him seem years younger as he contemplated just how to answer.

“My dearest Ava,” he began softly. “I cannot say she was, but there is a difference between then and now.” He paused to pat her hand, “she was not in love with the man we had chosen for her, whereas you have been gifted with just such a blessing. Sadly your grandmother and I did not realize until after it was too late the depth of her sorrow." His voice cracked with emotion, his stomach churned as he falsified the truth.

Ava rested her hands upon her lap, as his statement sank, in mulled the words over. "Yet grandfather even had you been aware of her sadness there was little to be done," she murmured. "For as grandmother has made so evident, it is a rare case when a marriage is filled with love," her words though quiet were filled with bitterness.

George quietly laughed, his heart swelling with pride at how Ava always seemed to take even the most horrid of news and find a way to focus on the good. "Yes dearest, there was little to be done and sadly you are correct, there are few marriages that are so blessed." He added with gentle squeeze of her hand.

Rising he gently pulled her into a warm embrace, his heart aching as he thought that in a matter of hours she would be gone from the house. “Ava you will make a wonderful wife for him, you are strong, spirited, and intelligent. Tis no wonder he fell in love with you,” he whispered reassuringly, brushing a chaste kiss upon her cheek. Tears welling in his eyes as he silently thanked the lord that she would marry a man deserving of her.

His comment slammed against her, brought forth the feeling of inadequacy yet again. With tears in her eyes she forced a smile upon her face and glanced up at him, the gentle look in his eyes and the kind smile upon his lips tearing her apart. “Grandfather,” Ava whispered her voice thick with emotion and fear.

Her disheartened gaze fell upon the rough cream marble, “am I truly worthy of him? For he is to take the throne and I,” she paused and released a shuddering breath, swallowed down the sob that worked its way up her throat. “I am not full nobility,” the words fell from her lips on a pained sigh, caused her to once more think of the letter that sat upon her dresser it’s seal firmly tacked. The letter addressed to Alexander explaining why she could not marry him, why he should not want to marry her.

George heard the strain in her voice felt the pain wafting off her, tipping her chin up with his fingertip he gazed into her pale green eyes as he silently contemplated how to respond to her question. It weighing heavily upon him that he could not tell her the truth, more over knowing that the young Lord would soon be made aware of the circumstance, the need to protect her from the knowledge. “Ava my child, you are far more worthy than you assume and I assure you Lord Alexander would love you even if you were a chamber maid.” He shakily laughed, hoping it would lighten her spirit and mask his discomfort with the half-truth. “For a strong minded gentleman such as himself needs a wife who is more so.” He soothingly murmured hugging her tightly.

Much to his joy and chagrin, the sound of the door opening interrupting their conversation as she turned towards the entry. A mask of fury covering Ava’s face as she set eyes upon her grandmother. Alexander’s recital of the woman’s horrendous actions still fresh in her memory,

His vision falling upon his wife he could not contain the small smile, he had certainly lashed into her yet his words would be nothing in comparison to Ava's. “Please speak kindly,” George whispered knowingly as he hurriedly exited the orangery.

With narrowed eyes, Ava glared upon the forlorn form of her grandmother, swallowed at the lump that choked her. The smallest inkling of pleasure coursing through her as the duchess stood brokenly, her sad gaze intently focused upon the floor. She did not know if she could ever forgive Beatrice.

“I am truly apologetic for all that has occurred,” Beatrice finally spoke, her regal voice weak and pained, filled with tears.

Turning abruptly away from the Duchess Ava took a tentative step forward on quivering legs. “What you nearly incurred grandmother, is reprehensible to say the least,” she forced out through clenched teeth.

“Because of your meddlesome activities I nearly lost a much desired union, at your hand nearly lost my heart once more.” Now it was her voice that was filled with tears, sadness at the memory as she let loose her torment, her fury.

A chill crept up Beatrice's spine at the tone of her granddaughters voice, the anger and hatred so evident. “My sweet Ava, I know this, I have had the last three days to think of nothing else and am truly ashamed.” It was truth, she had taken an inventory of her actions searched through her heart and found her penance, the need to heal the pain she had wrought.

“I had not been aware of the invitation, nor the friendship between Lord Alexander and the viscount,” she whispered. Her hand falling listlessly to her side as Ava abruptly turned and penetrated her with her furious darkened eyes.

“You were not aware?” Ava screeched in disbelief, the question as incredulous as the understanding.

“Were you not the one too personally write out the invitations, seal them and send them for delivery?” She demanded folding her arms across her chest, her face contorted with rage.

Beatrice swallowed at the lump that formed in her throat at the accusation, “Not all, I had been so pre-occupied with your sister’s wedding and the arrival of Lord Alexander I handed a list of names and addresses to Rebecca…” She trailed off, it suddenly occurring to her that she must have handed her hand maid the wrong list. “Oh dear,” she mournfully murmured.

Ava penetrated her grandmother with her eyes, incapable of believing the statement. “So you conveniently forgot to ensure that his name was not on the list.” Ava snarled accusingly, believing whole heartedly that her grandmother had still done this purposefully. A sudden wave of dizziness overtaking her.

Beatrice watched in horror as Ava blanched and swayed for a moment, protectively she rushed forward and guided her granddaughter to the bench ensuring she was comfortably seated before she herself took place beside her. “Ava dear are you not well?” she carefully questioned when the color returned to Ava's face.

Ava bristled at the comment, yet was silently grateful her grandmother had been there to help her to the bench. “I am well grandmother,” She ground out weakly, her mind twisting in confusion as yet another spell overcame her.

“I have not eaten is all, so if you do not mind I would like to go rest for a bit.” She weakly murmured, attempting to stand yet falling to her seat once more.

Beatrice gazed upon Ava her thoughts quickly twisting towards the past few days occurrences. She herself had not come down with symptoms for several weeks, yet her own sister had been stricken ill shortly after conception. “I shall send Gertrude with a plate of pastries and fruit,” She whispered helping Ava to her feet and guiding her into the house.

Ava sat uncomfortably upon the small bench within her room, waiting for the promised plate to arrive. Something was not right, had not been since she had awakened that first morning. Her entire body seemed devoid of energy, she ached and the frequent dizzy spells whether or not she dined. “I must be coming down with an illness,” she mournfully whispered, her attention diverted by the sound of the door opening.

Expectantly she turned her surprised vision falling upon Catherine’s harried figure as her sister rushed into the room. “We have all been ill with worry!” Catherine cried out the moment her vision fell upon her. “Especially since I never would have expected this from you,” she continued her words though harsh filled with humor as she raked her vision over her sister.

A faint smile spread over Ava’s face as she gazed upon her sister, “I am truly sorry to have made you fret dearest Cat,” she whispered rising and enveloping her sister in a hug. An embrace she quickly pushed away from, falling back onto the bench in surprise as she felt the swell of her sisters abdomen. “Catherine!” the astonished whisper hardly seemed to slip from her lips.

Catherine gazed down upon her sister, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief and a devilish grin spreading over her face. “I am nearly three and a half months,” she giggled. “I had suspected when Franklin and I married, but did not wish to divulge my secret,” She conspiratorially whispered.

“Catherine please tell me that you are carrying Franklins child?” Ava stammered out breathlessly, fear quickly rising within her mind as she thought back to the late night ventures that she had been so foolish as to trust her sister upon.

Fear that continued to build as her sister turned away for the briefest of moments a flash of embarrassment across her face. “Of course silly, I could not resist!” She suddenly laughed out, the tinkling sound sinking heavily against Ava’s heart. “Something I am sure you well understand, for when you are in love there is nothing you would not do.” She finished with a knowing wink.

Ava stared upon her sister, all those months upon the ship when she had trusted, hoped and yet deep down she had known. “Catherine you fool, however will you explain the early birth?” She whispered venomously.

The statement seeming to further humor Catherine as the young women laughed, “I shall say that the child was early.” She explained, a broad grin spreading across her face, “Besides you cannot tell me that you spent three nights with the wickedly handsome Lord Alexander and did not share his bed…”

To Be Continued