I nodded and took her hand. We entered the parlor where Mother was laid out in her best gown. Father stood looking out the window, less than an arm’s length from her. He didn’t acknowledge her presence at all when he turned to look at us.
“Go on, then. Open them,” he said, gesturing to the packages on our chairs.
I dutifully picked up the package and sat to wait for Kellen to open hers. I always made her go first.
She removed the string and opened the paper to reveal a silky, red ribbon.
“Thank you, Father. It’s beautiful.”
I opened my package to find a small, bareroot tree. There were no shoots coming from the single stem, but it did have a few nubs that promised branches in the future.
“A pear tree,” Father said when I glanced up at him. “You had a sweet tooth when I was last home.”
I smiled slightly, remembering how I’d tried to talk Judith into making sweet pastries.
“Thank you, Father. These gifts are lovely.”
“As are the two of you.”
He inhaled deeply and tucked his hands behind his back. It was a pose Kellen and I knew well. The pose he used to deliver news he knew we wouldn’t like. Such as his departure.
“You are of an age now,” he began. “Old enough to make your own decisions and to care for yourselves.”
My stomach dropped to my toes as I feared that this wasn’t a departure speech but a proposal discussion.
“I expect now that your mother has passed on, it won’t be long before you’re married and gone from this house,” he continued, unaware how the callously delivered words twisted my stomach.
“That being the case, I see no reason to delay my next venture. I will leave tomorrow.”
I couldn’t decide if I was relieved he wasn’t trying to marry us off or angry that he seemed barely affected by Mother’s death. Until he’d mentioned it, I hadn’t been sure he’d even noticed.
“We bury Mother tomorrow,” Kellen said. “You cannot leave until after that.”
“Of course. Of course. We should see her to her final resting place near dawn. She loved watching the sun come up.” For a moment, something crept into his gaze. Something real and alive and in pain. With a flash, it was gone again.
“I will tell Hugh of our plans and see you at dinner.” He strode from the room without a backward glance.
“If that is love,” Kellen said, “I want no part in it. Ever.”
I captured her hand in mine and waited for her to look at me. When she did, I saw her careful mask was slipping. Anger reflected in her gaze.
“We don’t know what he’s feeling right now. And what he felt for Mother is but one kind of love. Mother showed us another. Never forget hers. Or mine, Kellen.”
She nodded and pulled away. I let her go, knowing she needed her space.
While she went to her room to regain an iron-fisted control over her emotions, I went to the kitchen. Judith and Anne were making pastries.
“Those look fancy,” I said, dipping a finger in the lemon curd and earning a swat on my hand.
“They were fancy before you marked them.”
I snorted and licked my finger.
“I only marked the one. Since it offends you, I’ll remove it.” Judith lifted her spoon menacingly as I reached again, and I laughed. It felt good. But it only lasted a moment before the pain crept back in.
Holding my hands up in surrender, I backed away from the table.
“Did Father return with the lemons?” They weren’t a common item this side of the Dark Forest, but he was quick-witted with his trading.
“No. I bought them at market.” Judith’s humor fled as she wiped her hands on her apron and looked away from me. “Mrs. Cartwright was known by many even if she didn’t leave the house. People will come to pay their respects, and we will have refreshments that will give the gossips something to talk about.”
I hated the idea of opening our home to any visitors. Gossipmongers, all of them.
“If we offer them nothing, maybe they won’t stay,” I said.
Anne clucked her tongue.
“You’re smarter than that, Eloise. That will be the first bit of information they’ll slaver over.” She assumed a gossipy pose and changed her voice. “‘Can you believe those girls. They didn’t offer us one bit of refreshment.’” She lowered her pitch to a snide whisper. “‘Not surprised. With their father gone and their mother ill, they likely ran about like heathens.’”
“Your mother wouldn’t tolerate that,” Judith said. “Neither will I. She raised you well. Two fine young women who know how to be proper young ladies. Her one hope was that you’d both marry well. I won’t let lack of refreshments dash her dreams.”
No matter how much I wanted to deny it, I knew there was truth in her words. And, as greatly as I hated the idea of catering to the gossips, I couldn’t allow them to say anything negative about Mother. Not now. Not ever.
“You’re right. Can I help?”
“No. Go spend time with your father. You never know how much you’ll have.”
I nodded and left with my cloak. A sweep of the yard turned up no trace of Father or Hugh. I stood by the chickens, wondering where the pair might have gone when I heard a faint, muffled thump and scrape. Following the noise through the trees to the west, I spotted Hugh in a small clearing not far from the house.
Sweat glistened on his pale, white torso as he worked dirt and stone from the shallow pit forming in the ground. I’d never seen him that unclothed before. But then, he’d never had to dig a grave for us. I swallowed hard and quietly turned away to leave him to his task.
Back at the house, I continued my search for Father and found him once again in the parlor, standing beside Mother. With his back to me, he stared out the window, and I took a moment to commit this instant to memory. It would be the last time I would ever see them together.
His once golden hair had lost much of its yellow at the sides, and new lines creased the corners of his eyes. He also looked a bit leaner than the last time I saw him. He’d always been a trim and fit man, not gaining girth around the middle like so many others his age. When he was here, he would carry Mother to and fro as needed. When he was away, he said he often loaded and unloaded merchandise. Better that he complete the tasks than pay someone else. It was his work ethic that influenced Kellen and me and why we willingly labored alongside those we employed, unlike many of the pampered girls of our means.
“Father,” I said softly so as not to startle him. “I saw Hugh in the clearing to the west. It’s a lovely spot.”
“Yes. Lovely.”
His tone indicated he wasn’t in the room with me. His distance didn’t bother me. In fact, I was quite used to conversing with someone who didn’t want to talk.
“The morning sun will shine through the trees in winter, and a blanket of flowers will cover the ground in spring and summer. It will be pretty.”
I sat and looked at Mother.
“She was looking forward to your return,” I said.
He said nothing.
“She loved the necklace you sent her.”
“Eh?” He turned to look at me.
“The necklace,” I said, pointing. “It’s very beautiful. Where did you find it?”