Constance & Flynn (4) She decided to take a look outside. She felt like consulting Naomi about her troubles. She walked through the gardens calling Naomi’s name softly. She did not want to startle her fragile friend. Naomi laid there on the ground staring up into the darkened sky. Only minutes before Flynn had left her,, but it seemed like an eternity. She felt sore and sticky and she sat up. Countless things had raced through her mind at that moment. “No one will know. Flynn wouldn’t dare breathe a word to anyone, and I know that I won’t.” Naomi gathered her skirts together. She picked up a thin, silky sash and gathered it around her waist. She wanted to hide any evidence of the forbidden events that had happened behind this hedge. One thing was for sure. Naomi would ver be the same. Constance was ready to scream in frustration. She had searched the whole garden twice only to be told that Naomi was seen going to her room. Constance wandered the halls checking each room and stumbling upon some of the most interesting things. She finally found Naomi’s room at the end of the hall. When she first stepped in the room she didn’t see her but once her eyes adjusted to the dark room she saw a figure huddled in the corner. Naomi was ghostly pale and was hugging a doll with fiery red hair. Ironically the whole room was decorated in shades of ice blue and white and was very soft and feminine. Constance went over and lit a branch of candles. “Naomi, darling, you’re missing all the fun. That Ian, with the sweaty palms and oily hair, he was asking for you. I think you two could hit it off. You’re room was just a chore to find, at the end of the hall and the last door I looked in. I searched up and down the garden, and not one trace of you. Naomi I could have strangled you, but I realize how could you possibly know I would check here last? But where you check and find what you are looking for it is always the last place isn’t it? Or else you wouldn’t keep looking would you? I don’t think. That wouldn’t make much sense.” Naomi just stared forlornly at Constance’s trim figure floating around the room propping this and that up and inspecting little boxes filled with trinkets from her mother and father who had passed on. Naomi flushed with color, Constance’s vibrancy was almost irritating, to the point of wanting to kill her. “Connie, dear, please. I—I---I have a terrible headache and I don’t f-f-feel all that well.” “I’ll get you a cold compress, that should be helpful.” Naomi snapped, “A c-c-cold compress will not help me, my d-delicate constitution is n-n-not so easily subsided by some, some, thing!” Constance apologized. Naomi continued in the same vein, “Leave me be! Go away, this dreadful soiree and all it has become is over. I’ll not tolerate some peasant girl patronizing me. Of all people me, N-N-Naomi Anderson, the most civilized noble, in this upstart of a town. Why did w-w-we move at all? “To this place infested with you, you peasant t-trash! Get away from me scum,” she spat. Without pausing she continued, ”L-L-Look at you, playing at being a lady. You’re nothing but an ugly, disgustingly d-dirty piece of r-r-rot that feeds off of people like me. I never ever want to see you and you’re kind, especially you’re that male friend of yours. The devil he is. The v-v-very devil.” While she ran through a speech a stunned Constance backed up until she reached the door. When Naomi finished she spat on the hem of Constance’s dress, open the door shoved Constance through it. “G-G-Go away and die an awful death, C-C-Constance. A slow and painful end is w-w-w-what you deserve. You and t-t-that devil.” Constance stared stunned at the door. She looked down at her dress and where Naomi had spit she pulled a handkerchief from up her sleeve and rubbed it off. The words stung at her pride. “A peasant playing at being a lady.” She turned her back on the door and said in a loud voice, “You’re right Naomi I’m not a lady, I’m a peasant but don’t you worry not all men want some feeble stuttering lady.” She said the word lady with some nasty venom that on the other side of the door Naomi shuddered. Flynn shivered from the cold. He had left his jacket in the garden. Riding on the back of Lucifer, his favorite stallion, the breeze that stung his face was close to biting. He could not believe what he had done. He rode like the very devil until he realized he must have rode for hours. He stopped on a wooden bridge and dismounted. Lucifer was blown there was no way he would be able to pull it off. His get away had been foiled before it began. He walked to the railing of the bridge and looked into the water. It was probably the only piece of water for miles not covered by a thick sheen of ice. The current was so strong and the water probably freezing. He’d probably die within an hour of being dipped in that water. He shuddered. He probably deserved it. The look of devastation on Naomi’s face when he had taken her innocence, it had in itself proved earth-shattering realization that he had done the unspeakable. He knew she wouldn’t tell, but what if he had impregnated her, no doubt his dark features would show up in the child. Once it got out to the town Naomi would be reviled. He had done the damage, he was just escaping from the consequences. He was ready for marriage but not to diffident, timid little thing such as Naomi. He looked at Lucifer eating a crop of dry dead grass placidly. Lucifer seemed to be recovering faster from the fast pace they had taken on earlier. He climbed back onto Lucifer’s back and started out again. He would go to France. He had a knack for language and was able to cipher and read, an uncommon trait in peasants. He even knew Latin, which might prove things for him. He would get by. Flynn had made his decision and walked on without looking back. He would go to France. ~12 Years Later~ Flynn sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The letter of Connie was fraught with feeling. Torn between distress and desperation, she had written breaking him the dreadful news without feeling. He wondered if he should stay here unconcerned while she fidgeted back there. He was tempted. Flynn sighed again, his ties with Connie ran deeper than his resentment. He picked up another piece of paper and began his returning letter. He pulled the bell cord with apparent flourish and his valet came in, “Yes, sir?” “Ready my carriage, apparently we’re taking a trip to my past.” Constance peered across the vast lands from her window. Ever since she moved to this huge house, all she could see was its desolation, not its charming isolation. She took delight in few things and soon became depressed after moving here. “Oh Ian, my love, how could you have left me? All alone here? Could you not see that I would not be happy here alone, without you?” Constance stood up and shook out her voluminous skirts, it was almost tea time and she wished for some lemon seed cakes to accompany that. As she approached the door a tentative knock sounded on the other side. She moved back and sat right back in her window seat. She waited until another knock sounded and called softly, “Enter.” Jonathan the head butler entered. “My lady, a Mr. Retner is here to see you. He said you requested his presence.” Jonathan bless his heart, left the room as soon as she said, “I guess it’s time.” She allowed herself an immeasurable amount of time to compose herself while waiting on the windowsill of the study for him to come. And so he did. He was resplendent in riding gear of black britches and fine white lawn shirt. His hair was disheveled and his Hessians gleamed from an early morning shining. “Connie.” She merely gazed at him. His greeting was neither polite nor compassionate. “Flynn.” He moved towards her and held out his arms. He was about to hug her but she turned and gave him the cold shoulder. He stepped back. His eyes darkened and his shapely eyebrows were raised in surprise. “I suppose you have heard the gossip.” “Being a widow is hardly uncommon.” “Three times?” “Why?” He asked simply. She turned to him and said, “Now’s not the time, teatime is in 20 minutes I expect you to make an appearance. I have invited an old acquaintance of ours.” “Who?” “I don’t suppose you two left on good terms. Of course you didn’t leave anyone on good terms. Your damn father abandoned my mother in search of you, and when he died in the silliest of things. A carriage accident, looking for you! My mother died of grief soon after. You didn’t have the decency to turn up at any of the funerals. And Naomi---“ At this point she regained her composure and stopped short in his tirade. “I will see you in the drawing room, shortly.” Flynn’s eyes darkened even more if that was possible and left her. Constance turned her eyes back to the gray cast sky, it’s going to rain she though dispassionately. Flynn met her in the drawing room in severe jacket white lawn shirt and breeches that made him beautiful. He crossed the room and kissed her hand. “As I have said before, you are looking well. Black becomes you.” “As you. You’re dangerous, brooding look is most becoming in black.” She withdrew her hand. Connie added airily, “Jonathan would you please show, Lady Naomi Anderson in.” Flynn froze on the spot. His head snapped from the butler to Connie and he gave her murderous looks, but she seemed to be unaware of his terrifying scrutiny. Flynn worked to regain his poise. Connie couldn’t have known what had happened on the eventful night gone awry. “Naomi, darling. How refreshing to have such a delightful face around.” “I’m glad you feel so.” She was short and curt in her speech. And Flynn remembered she must have mastered her stutter. Flynn kissed her hand and let go. “Naomi. You do look healthy indeed.” Naomi nodded and sat. “Two lumps of sugar.” Flynn added, “I would like brandy.” “And I would have liked you t-to think for o-o-once, but that is a p-pleasure that will be denied to me.” Flynn turned surprised at Naomi’s retort. His mouth dropped open. “You look like a f-f-f-codfish.” Actually Naomi thought he looked handsome as ever but she wasn’t going to let a good-looking face put down her guard on what she knew already. Flynn answered, “Your compliment isn’t flattering, but I can’t help but think it wasn’t supposed to be.” She simply harrumphed and looked down her nose at him, “Connie, what’s this about? I already told you----“ “Yes, but I thought it would be most interesting for you two to meet face to face by the rules of civilized people. I didn’t expect such a harsh greeting from either of you. Mind your manners, Naomi.” “Sticking up for that, that traitor.” “That’s neither here nor there.” Flynn interrupted, “Why don’t you enlighten us with your probably titillating tale about your martial life.” Constance clearly didn’t want to and she merely answered waving it off, “That also is neither here nor there. And besides I will not be the object of gossip Flynn, merely because you’re curious. Do you care to tell us why you left in such a hurry?” Flynn flushed. “The devil I will. Mind your own business!” Constance snapped back, “Then mind yours. Your language is deteriorating, and remember a lady’s sensitive ears must be sheltered from such filth, especially in a drawing room, my drawing room.” There was a silence as everyone sipped their tea. Flynn smiled maliciously, “You forget you are not of noble birth and maybe your ears aren’t so ‘lady-like’ so perhaps you speak of someone else? Naomi perhaps?” Constance wanted to slap him but she held her temper. “Naomi my dear this tea was most eventful and I would hope you keep your tongue behind your teeth and don’t go waggling high tales of his rudeness to everyone. He probably has to have his manners refined coming back from that god awful country. So I bid you farewell, Naomi. Jonathan will show you the door. Flynn if you will meet me in the study.” With that she imperiously swept out of the drawing room her black silk mourning skirts rustling behind her. Flynn looked up to see Naomi being led from the room, “Nice meeting, I suppose.” Naomi’s eyes flashed hatred, “Don’t you dare act like nothing happened. How could you? And it’s your fault reminding her of Ian like that.” Flynn looked puzzled and confused. He was about to ask about Ian but Naomi hurried and bustled out of the drawing room ceremoniously. He was sitting there holding a cold cup of tea. He cursed silently and waited until Jonathan could escort him to the drawing room. In the drawing room Constance wasted no time. “So interested in those twelve long years of struggle you left me behind! No doubt you wonder what became of me. Of us? Well after that blasted soiree I found out about your despicable act. I was ready to make you pay. You destroyed a blossoming friendship between me and probably the richest girl in town. With her, everyone could have loved us but you had to kick it while it was down. Why’d you do it? Why?” Flynn stared. He didn’t know why. It had been animal instincts. And then those instincts left him to his civilized conscience that held guilt and understanding. He had to do something. A way out. “I couldn’t have you,” he said lamely. “Because you couldn’t have me? You could have waited.” She pulled out a gun from the folds of her skirt and pointed it at his heart. Her hand trembled badly. “I would have waited for you. My father had just died Flynn. What was I supposed to do? I was alone except for you and you treated me like a twit at times. And then you didn’t want to commit to me you just wanted my person. Oh how loved is that?” Tears burned her eyes but pride refused to let them fall. “That’s what you did you kicked me while I was down. Flynn I could kill you right now.” “But you won’t because we still share something.” “Damn you to hell, Flynn. Why did you come back? I did this for Naomi, I didn’t write the letter. Naomi did. I couldn’t talk in that letter without giving my intentions away. Do you know Naomi had a babe? Of course it died the following winter, poor thing. Naomi was distraught. She was ruined. She had married in confidence to secure that her baby wasn’t born in shame and then when out popped little Grace a few months after the marriage her husband proclaimed her trollop. And that it wasn’t possible the child was hers. It was in your very image. In that instant I knew Flynn. But Naomi was hurt and she had to build up her dignity. Her grandmother had become a force to reckon with in this town and now it was time to exercise that power to the point of abuse. She restored her good name and gave her to some elderly viscount in London. Apparently the viscount passed away soon after but Naomi was of noble blood and was able to return with her reputation still intact. Naomi is independent but she is hurt, Flynn. She is scarred.” Flynn stepped forward and gently pried the gun from her trembling fingers. He picked her up and carried her to the settee and rested her there. “Now tell me what happened to you.” Tear streamed down her face and with sudden violence she slapped him. “How can you look at yourself in the mirror in the morning? You should have died! I could have been free.” He held her hands and asked quietly again what happened. This time she took a deep breath and responded as if in a daze, “After my mother passed away I was quite alone. So I gave myself to the first suitor that would have me. Timothy Richards. He was a weakling and just wanted a housekeeper for him and nine children, which the youngest was older than me. Of course I agreed, it’s not as I didn’t know how to work. I was impregnated once but I had a miscarriage. Over before it began. Of course he blamed me and up and left. The children weren’t dependent on me so they left too. Once again I was alone in the world. “My second husband Alfred Wells was semi noble, on his mother’s uncle side, which would not even acknowledge him because his mother married against the family wishes. And was even disinherited. So we lived a hard life, we both worked in the home. And it turns out I wouldn’t have the one joy I wanted. Children. Alfred wasn’t capable of even giving me any.” She smiled a watery smile. “Of course he was a bit brutal. Because he was self conscious of the fact, but I never blamed him because he was a bit older than me.” “How old?” She looked as if she just realized he was there. “Twenty-seven years my senior, and he looked everyday of it and more. That’s what work does to you.” She looked at her hands. “Alfred had sent me to a friend’s house to barter for some sugar. Don’t look surprised. It had hurt my pride, but of course I still had some dignity and did it without much fuss. Well the neighbor was being difficult and it was far away and evening time. By the time we had reached an agreement we both could afford it was too late to head back and they offered for me to stay with them the night. I agreed. A tragic fire had swept our home. And Alfred died while sleeping. He had left the damn candle burning. And as I said, once more I was alone.” Flynn looked as if he would cry. But he didn’t. Constance continued in a detached voice, “My other husband had died just weeks ago.” Tears began to well up and shined in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had already made a spectacle of herself. “In a hunting accident. He wasn’t mindful of the boar and well. He fell from his stallion and had a hole bored in his stomach the size of your fist. He lost so much blood it was impossible to save him. He was of noble birth, and saw past my rags and dirt. He took me in, like a trial and error sort of thing. I proved worthy and we married. What an uproar it made. He wasn’t darkly handsome like you, but his kindness made him attractive. I almost loved him. It was so close. I am still mourning. And I can’t help but feel pity for his child I carry.” Flynn’s eyes flew from her twisting hands to her face. It was tight with emotion. He almost wished that he had not asked her. Almost. He looked to her middle, it was thickening out a bit. Flynn reached out to touch her but she jerked away violently. “Now that you know the truth. My life and my world must be an open book to you. You may call me Lady Levenbaugh, I am no longer Constance, that naďve girl that thought you could change the world. Ha! It changed me.” She got up, “If you’ll excuse me I must compose myself, I have to, I must make amends with Naomi and tell her I couldn’t cripple the damn bugger.” Flynn knew she was talking about him as she trailed from the room. Why did everyone always leave him behind now? Flynn couldn’t help but think of the unborn babe. He hoped she didn’t do anything stupid. He had heard of women who had a back alley 'butcher’ rip the baby from their wombs and have either died or came close. From what he had heard his loving, carefree Connie had lived life and it had told her nothing but the bitter truth. At least she had money and was noble. Flynn asked the air, “What is security and money if she cannot be happy?” Flynn dined alone because apparently Connie was taking longer than was necessary to make ‘amends.’ The servants continually cast overly curious glances in his direction and he had the feeling that he had grown an extra head. He resolved to speak to Connie, no wait, Lady Levenbaugh, tonight.Now with a plan, Flynn rose from the table and signaled the nearest gawking servant to his side. “If you would be so kind as to escort me to Lady Levenbaugh’s chambers?” Flynn asked pleasantly. “But sir, If I may advise I do not think that it would be wise---“ Flynn cut him off his voice more stern now, “You may not advise me in anything, I am your superior and thus I reign control over this household until Lady Levenbaugh’s return, and so I demand you take me her chambers!” “You certainly do not,” said a distinctly feminine voice from the doorway. Connie walked straight up to Flynn and stood toe to toe with him. “How dare you order my servants around in my absence. They are not yours, you do not give them their wages, you are not in charge of what they do, and you are certainly not allowed in my chambers. Whatever was on your mind such as getting on good terms with me I am crushing right now. This has nothing to do with you and you are no longer---“
Copyright © 2002 Julissa Gayle Raven |