Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
She pulled back from my embrace and looked up at me. Her eyes were damp with unshed tears and she smiled sadly. “I know that now. I didn’t for a very long time, but my father wasn’t a well man. His addictions were a sickness that attacked his mind and eventually his body. I know he never loved me, but I no longer need his love to feel loved.”
Miriam Bathurst was many things and the more layers I managed to peel back, the more true beauty I found. She hadn’t allowed her childhood to defeat her nor had she let it make her cruel or selfish. She had become strong because of it. She was loyal and she was exactly the kind of mother I wanted for Emma.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Miriam Bathurst
In the morning light, I was truly embarrassed by my emotional outburst last night in the garden. I had never shared my father’s disdain or perhaps hatred for me with anyone. Yet, somehow, in the safety net of the darkness, it had all come tumbling out. While Lord Ashington, had been truly wonderful about it all, I still felt ridiculous for sharing such intimate details of my life.
He had been the one asking me questions, but then I was usually very gifted at evading answers. Last night that gift had failed me as I had blurted out all the horrid details of my youth. When I had gone out to the gardens, I expected to be alone. His arrival had caught me unaware and perhaps I had been somewhat vulnerable.
Whatever the case, I should apologize to our host today. He did not invite us here so that he could counsel me on my troubled childhood. I watched as the lady’s maid, Gertrude, that had been assigned to me finished styling my hair in a loose gathering on my head with several loose curls, framing my face before standing up.
“Could you remind me where I am to be for breakfast?” I asked Gertrude.
She grinned and two dimples flashed in her cheeks, making her appear much younger than I had first assumed. “Yes, Miss. Come I’ll show you the way,” she said and for that I was grateful. This place was so easy to get lost in.
“When you first began working here, did you get lost often?” I asked Gertrude.
She chuckled. “Yes, Miss. Once I was found in the east wing crying because I couldn’t find my way to the kitchen,” she recalled.
I smiled at her story and she closed the door behind me then waved a hand for me to follow her as she started down the long hallway. I glanced up at paintings along the way and wished I had more time to study them and decide who they were. One was of two young boys and I knew it must be Ashington and Nicholas. I wanted to come back and spend more time looking at that one soon.
Gertrude moved quickly and I had to keep up. I knew we were drawing closer after we descended the stairs and headed left. Two large doors stood open and inside was the long dining table we had enjoyed a delicious dinner at last night. Gertrude turned to me then curtsied and scurried away behind a door.
I noticed Uncle Alfred was already at the table with a paper in hand and a cup of tea. Aunt Harriet was beside him, buttering a biscuit. I entered the room and glanced down at the end of the long table to see Ashington also with a paper and a cup of tea in front of him. Aunt Harriet was the first to notice me. Her gaze met mine and she smiled brightly.
“Good morning, Miriam. You will be pleased to know Lord Ashington has plenty biscuits, jam and hot chocolate,” she announced.
“Yes, I am sure the girl has come down here concerned over the state of Lord Ashington’s breakfast offerings,” Uncle Alfred drawled and rolled his eyes.
I glanced over at Ashington, and he was grinning behind his cup of tea or what I assumed was tea. Perhaps he was a coffee drinker. Some gentlemen preferred coffee in the morning, although it was an oddity I did not understand.
“I am sure anything he has will be splendid,” I replied and took my seat to the right of Ashington and across from my aunt.
“Of course,” Aunt Harriet agreed then winked at me, holding up a buttered biscuit before taking a bite. I struggled not to laugh at her antics. I wasn’t sure how Lord Ashington would handle such behavior at his breakfast table.
“You forgot the jam,” Uncle Alfred told her and I did laugh then. Covering my mouth, I hoped it wasn’t too loud. Uncle Alfred looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “She was rather enthused about the jam, was she not?” he asked.