Chapter Ten

 

 

Following his recital, the entire room was held in silence as Nicholas rose from his bow. With his back to the head table, he could see half the room of guests awaiting Lord Amesbury’s response before initiating their own typically subservient gestures.

Maggie tore her gaze away from Nicholas to see Robert looking up from his whispered conversation with a man next to him as though he were surprised the recital was over.

“Well spoken, Layton.” Robert clapped slowly. The room joined with hesitant applause.

Ashamed for those in the room, Maggie slowly rose and began clapping more loudly. To hell with all of them and their fears of Robert. Her heart reached out to Nick, to be treated so poorly by his host.

Nicholas leisurely turned around just as Maggie was blinking furiously to stop the tears.

“I humbly thank you, m’lord,” he softly stated, not removing his eyes from her.

Taking her seat, Maggie inhaled and hoped no one could see the dampness in her eyes as she regained her composure. Oh, he was good. Very good. Now she was beginning to understand why Elthea regarded him so highly. What woman wouldn’t? He was a man with a great depth of emotion. To whom were these incredible feelings directed? Was she assuming too much to believe it could have possibly been written for her? Such yearning. She knew she had felt a pull when he looked right at her while he recited, that same pull she had felt last night in her chamber. How terribly tragic that he could unfold his heart and bear it before all these people, but not to the one who had inspired such intense love. Or had he? And why did she want it to be her?

The sound of Robert’s chair grating against the stone floor rammed through her dreamy preoccupation. He did not look pleased… especially with her.

“I pray thee all a good eve,” he abruptly announced as he pushed away from the table and rose. “I convene with my associates for immediate council and bid thee lords and ladies continued celebration.” He turned toward Maggie and offered a hand to take hers.

Maggie’s eyes widened. Oh geez, am I supposed to leave with this guy? She began to worry as she apprehensively lifted her arm.

“Till the morrow, Lady Margaret.” With disinterest he barely kissed her hand and turned away. Relieved, she watched as he crossed the hall directly toward Nick, who was still making his way back to his chair.

Most all of the people in the room bowed as Robert walked by and ignored them. She saw Nick’s worried face glance up to hers as hushed words were exchanged between the two men. Nick quickly looked away and moved back to his seat.

“Child, you look as though you are absolutely spent.”

She felt Countess Elthea’s comforting hands on her shoulders.

Without looking up, Maggie sighed, and responded, “Yes, Elthea, I’ve had enough of this play for the night. Is this our cue to exit, stage left?”

Elthea grinned down at her. “Aye, dear Margaret. Your scene here is finished.”

 

It really was seductive… all of it. The clothes. The manners. The people. The intrigue. The pampering. The woman who attended her was young and silent. She played the role of servant within this madness and, as she unlaced Maggie’s gown, Maggie asked over her shoulder. “Have you ever heard of a telephone, a credit card? An airplane? A television?”

“M’lady?”

Maggie turned around and was confronted with a person whose confusion was obvious. “You really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

The woman bowed slightly, not making eye contact. “I beg yer pardon, m’lady,” she answered in a shy, worried voice.

“Never mind.” Maggie shook her head and turned back, allowing the woman to continue unlacing her. It was surreal. They all couldn’t be actors who played their parts so well that even at dinner not one had made a mistake, or flubbed a line. If anyone had messed up their role, it was she.

She stepped out of the wide skirt and removed the heavy bodice before handing it to the woman. Taking a deep breath, she felt lighter without the weight of the gown and walked over to the bed. She sat on the edge of it and removed her shoes, shoes she reminded herself, that had been made in her time yet were reproductions that no one here seemed to think were out of place. How odd that she had been dressed in such a fashion so that outwardly she fit right in as being of noble birth. When she saw how tired the servingwoman was as she began to lay out the beautiful nightgown and robe, Maggie held her shoes in her hand and stood up.

“What is your name?” she asked with a smile.

The woman seemed startled and bowed, while lowering her head. “Gwen, m’lady. I beg your forgiveness if I have offended thee.”

Walking closer, Maggie realized that had she not been dressed in such a beautiful gown when she’d encountered Nick, she might have found herself in a much more terrible situation. Much more… Compassion filled her heart, and she smiled. “Please rise, Gwen.”

The woman slowly stood upright and raised her frightened gaze.

“You have been wonderful to me since I awakened this morning,” Maggie stated, and took the sheer gown of white cotton from the woman’s arms. “You’ve been working all day and now you’re done. Go rest, Gwen. I can dress myself.”

“But, m’lady…”

“Hush. This is an order,” Maggie stated with another smile. “It’s late. Go to sleep, or visit with your friends or make love to your husband. I am quite fine alone.”

“M’lady, I… I…” the woman stammered in astonishment, while an embarrassed blush appeared on her cheeks. “I am not a married woman.”

Maggie chuckled. “I don’t know whether to extend my sympathies or congratulate you. Do whatever you wish, Gwen. And if anyone asks, you may tell them that Margaret of Norreys has given you permission this night to live your life however you choose.”

“Oh, m’lady,” Gwen gushed as a smile spread over her face. “Bless you. May God grant you a long and happy life. You are an angel.”

Maggie laughed. “Hmm… I know a few who would disagree, Gwen.” She waved her hand toward the door. “Now go, be happy.”

Again, Gwen bowed. “Thank you, m’lady.” And then hurried to the door.

Maggie’s heart felt lighter, and she figured that as long as she had this power she might as well use it for good. She had dressed herself since she was a child and didn’t need the constant attention. Plus, if she were honest with herself, she would admit that she was anxious to be alone. She wanted to replay the last part of the evening’s events, especially when Nick recited that poem Muted Heart.

She would swear he’d been talking to her!

As she removed the remaining underclothes, Maggie dreamily played back in her mind the scene, the way her body had felt as Nick stared into her eyes and played his lute, speaking of a love that could never be acknowledged. His words tore into her soul. Picking up the delicate night shift, embroidered with pale yellow flowers around the neckline and ruffled cuffs, Maggie again wondered what it would be like to kiss Nicholas Layton.

She felt like a teenager, and mentally scolded herself as she placed the shift over her head and slipped into it. Here she was, a mature woman, dreaming about being kissed by a man who was totally wrong for her. Instead of such ridiculous mental wanderings she should be figuring out her escape tomorrow. Elthea had promised.

She had done her part by playing Lady Margaret tonight, she thought, smoothing down the nightgown over her stomach and hips. The sensuous feel of the material against her bare skin brought thoughts of Nicholas, and she groaned. She’d known if she stayed she would be drawn further into their drama, and now here she was… craving the touch of him, the feel of him, the scent of him, the sound of his voice. Her fingers actually ached to ran through his silky hair. Grabbing up the robe Gwen had laid out for her, Maggie refused to allow her hormones to override her good sense. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t…

She fastened the closings around her and walked over to the mirror. Elthea’s robe was almost as elaborate as a gown, with intricate gold embroidery in a subtle tapestry of vines and leaves on a deep green background. If anything could be said for this time, it would have to be the elaborate clothes, she thought… wishing that Nick could see her in this costume.

She did it again! Why was it that everything she thought seemed to lead back to him?

She would leave tomorrow, she vowed, and that would be the end of it. Almost as a punishment for slipping, Maggie tore the pins from her hair and began pulling her fingers through it as it fell to her shoulders. She was going to find her aunt tomorrow and somehow put this all behind her. No more daydreams about Nicholas Layton and what he might or might not think about her. As she pulled an ivory comb through her hair, Maggie almost welcomed the pain of tangles, for it took her mind away from Nick and his muted heart.

What would his heart say, if it were not muted, she again wondered. As soon as she realized her thoughts, Maggie threw the comb onto the dressing table and began pacing.

She was not going to allow this to happen to her. Of what use would it be to explore this path when she was leaving and would never see Nick again? None. Absolutely none. Stopping in front of the fire, Maggie stared into the flames as the thought refused to be denied.

She would never see him again.

Was she prepared to walk away from this attraction without ever finding out if it was returned? And what good would that do, if she did? It would only make leaving that much more difficult.

A knock on the door stopped any further mental torture, and Maggie was grateful for the interruption. Elthea had promised to come to her chamber and continue their earlier discussion.

Maggie opened the door to admit Elthea and Evan, the steward of the house. He was carrying a tray with a decanter, goblets, and fruit. Elthea smiled at Maggie and instructed Evan to place the tray on the small table before the fire.

“Good eve, child,” Elthea said, touching Maggie’s arm. “I saw thy maid had been dismissed, and so I thought we might enjoy this last night together and I may fulfill my promise to answer all your queries.” She turned to the servant, and her smile warmed. “Thank you, Evan. Please stand guard in the hallway. If you are asked, merely say that it is my order as I attend the Lady Margaret, who is quite exhausted from this night’s activities.”

“As you wish, m’lady.” Evan bowed and left the room.

Maggie watched Elthea’s gaze follow the man and she would swear she saw something akin to love in the woman’s eyes. She then remembered Elthea’s reaction to Nick’s poem and wondered if the closeness she had observed between the lady of the manor and the steward might just be something more.

“He’s a very nice man,” Maggie remarked, as the door to her chamber closed. “And he seems devoted to you.”

Elthea sighed as she lowered herself to a chair and began pouring what looked like alcohol into goblets. “Evan and I grew up together since childhood. His mother served mine, and he was trained to run this home by his father. Here, child. Aqua vitae, a strong spirit to help thee sleep.” She handed a goblet to Maggie.

Maggie brought it to her lips and inhaled the potent scent “What is it?”

Elthea chuckled. “Truly, you are not familiar with our time. This is a brandywine, and I have not put anything into it as I have promised, so you may sit with me and not fear, Maggie Whitaker, that I have broken my word.”

Sitting in the chair opposite Elthea, Maggie grinned. “You people sure do like to drink. I think everything I’ve tasted has something alcoholic in it, even the food.”

“It purifies the blood and circulates it throughout the body. If thou would care for something else, I shall send Evan to the buttery for a pear wine, or perhaps a—”

“No, no,” Maggie interrupted. “I was just making a comment. Brandy is fine, and I suppose after the night you and I have just had, we can use it.”

“Thy performance was well-done, child.” She hesitated a moment, then added with a twinkle in her eye, “I was most pleased.”

The two women looked at each other and burst into subdued laughter.

Holding her goblet up in a toast, Maggie said, “Here’s to everyone being pleased tonight, especially your son.”

They toasted and each sipped the brandy.

“Geez, I don’t mean to be rude, but he is… well, arrogant, Elthea.”

The woman nodded sadly. “I fear my son’s arrogance may be his downfall, yet his ears are closed to my counsel now. I have accepted that I cannot alter his will, though I do watch carefully that I might smooth any ruffles he may leave in the fan of time.”

Maggie didn’t know if it was the brandy wine or the sudden heaviness that seemed to weigh her down, but she felt tired of trying to figure out if something were meant figuratively, as in the poetic way everyone seemed to word everything, or it was literal. “Ruffles in the fan of time? I don’t understand.”

Elthea put her goblet onto the table and spread her hands out like a fan. “Everything is connected to everything else. It is an old concept that is seeing a rebirth now as more and more information comes to us and rings true within our hearts. The actions of my son will affect many people and their history, perhaps even the history of this country. Tonight, you dismissed your maid, Gwen, with instructions to do whatever she wished. Had Evan not questioned her idleness and brought the matter to me, she would have been punished and fined by Robert. Sadly, he would not care that her mother would then not receive her daughter’s wages and Gwen’s lame brother would be on the streets begging to put food on their table.”

Maggie clutched her goblet. “Oh God, I didn’t know! I’m sorry. It’s just in my time I have always dressed myself and she seemed so tired…”

“All is well now, child. Rest easy. I realize you are not familiar with our ways.”

Maggie issued a self-deprecatory chuckle. “I think that was obvious a few times tonight. I almost died when Robert wanted to dance.”

“You do not dance, child, in your home? What a sorrow to have lost that form of entertainment. It is one of the few we women are permitted to enjoy.”

“Oh, we dance,” Maggie quickly answered. “Only you wouldn’t recognize it as such. You would probably be scandalized. It’s a much more… hmm, free form, I guess you could say. Actually, unless one is slow dancing with a partner, dancing is less intimate. You just stand there and do your thing and hope your partner can follow.”

“Do your thing?”

Maggie giggled. “It’s an expression, Elthea. It means be yourself, do whatever your soul dictates, even if it isn’t accepted by society.”

“Ahh…” Elthea sat back and stared into the flames that licked the charred wood. “I think I should like doing my thing in your time.” She glanced at Maggie. “Women, too, are allowed this freedom?”

“Oh yes. In fact, more women than men dance in my time. Most men are intimidated by public dancing.”

“Truly?” Elthea looked astonished. “Tell me more, Maggie. Tell me that in your time, four hundred years into the future, sanity has returned. That the marriage has taken place.”

“Marriage?” What was Elthea asking? “Whose marriage?”

The older woman looked disappointed. “If you are asking that question, it has not yet happened. Four hundred years, and they are still quarreling, instead of uniting.”

Maggie sat back. “Okay, now I’m lost. Who are you talking about?”

Elthea seemed to draw her strength, after being disappointed. “It has been said that when the Queen of Heaven unites with the King, then peace shall reign. Right now they continue to quarrel like spurned lovers, plotting against each other in jealous rages, wanting the other to be powerless, to feel the pain of betrayal. It saddens my heart to know that four hundred years shall pass, and still they have not reconciled.”

“Elthea, I don’t know if it’s the brandy wine, but I can’t figure out what you’re saying. The King and Queen of Heaven? Like in mythology?” Maggie shook her head in confusion.

“Child, have thee not heard that we humans play out the dramas, the comedies, the tragedies of the goddess and god, the male and the female faces of the One? In four hundred years have thy people not yet discovered this?”

“I guess not.” Maggie could only stare at the woman.

Elthea seemed more than upset as she continued. “First the goddess spurned the god, who wanted to dominate her, when she would only consent to equal reign. He rose up against her in a jealous rage and wiped her name from the earth, demanding all worship only him. The goddess was wounded but tended by a few faithful servants who hid her for safety until such a time came when she realized that alone she was incomplete as, he, in his rage, was incomplete. To be one, they needed each other. It has been written that a time of reconciliation will come, when goddess and god forgive each other their childish foolishness and all the pain they have inflicted on the other is healed, making way for the heavenly wedding of equals in power, in wisdom, in love. Thus humanity is healed. Woman is given her rightful place. This time at the side of man, to rule over earth as equals and together, in peace, we see we never left the heavenly garden, for it is right here. A time of sanity.”

Maggie sat back and stared. What Elthea was describing, this marriage, for some reason reminded her of the pair skaters in the Olympics, that graceful movement of male and female when synchronicity happens. Could that be possible in real life? Is that what her aunt and Malcolm had together?

“Wow… That’s quite a myth, Elthea. I wish I could say that has happened in my time. I think we might be approaching it though.” She shook her head in bewilderment. “I can’t believe I’m talking to you as though you really do live in the distant past. If it makes you feel any better, I will say that women have made great strides in equality, but the struggle continues. In my opinion, some of us have taken on more than we can handle as we’ve demanded equality. We thought we would get the help from the men, but it hasn’t always happened that way, and a lot of women are burned-out.”

“Women are still being burned?” The horror in Elthea’s eyes was painful to observe.

Maggie quickly put her mind at ease. “Oh, no. Not like that. It’s more of an emotional burning and exhaustion. Kind of like Gwen, who has no time for herself.”

“All women are like this? We have become servants?”

“Not all.” Then Maggie thought about it, about working an eight-hour job and coming home to make dinner and do laundry, and she didn’t even have any children which would add several more hours to the working day. “But many are weary, Elthea. I think you are right when you say that women and men together need to heal their differences and respect each other as equals.”

Geez… it was beginning to sound like a NOW meeting! Maybe liberation had its seeds sown thousands of years ago?

Wanting to change the subject, Maggie leaned forward and said, “You promised you would tell me who you really are. I don’t think you are working so much for the Protestants, as for something else. Will you tell me?”

Elthea sighed and picked up her goblet. “Oh, child, thou asks much. I do not know as I am working for anyone in particular. I am what is called a humanist.” Her voice lowered a few octaves. “I have replaced the belief in a separate heavenly god with godliness in the human. I believe that humans can, and sometimes do, reflect those qualities we have said are only to be found in deities. Compassion. Forgiveness. Wisdom. Power. Balance. Love.”

She again sighed deeply with introspection. “That is why I ask of the marriage of the male and female. I had hoped in the future humans would have guessed that if god… goddess… All That Is wanted to hide somewhere, to be invisible, what better place than within each of us?”

Stunned, she thought about it and admitted Elthea was right. Who would think to look for God in themselves? What was that song the kids were listening to? A young woman singing the question… What if God were one of us? Just a slob like one of us, just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home?

Elthea sipped her ale and smiled with affection. “You, Maggie Whitaker, have balanced the male qualities of strength, courage, logic with the female qualities of intuition, compassion, love. Nicholas has balanced those qualities, as his poem this eve hast shown us. ’Tis only, I suggest, when one recognizes and appreciates the qualities of the ‘other’ and balances within, that one may seek the marriage of like souls. Thus, twins of one soul, balanced with the eternal flame of the true marriage, are united. ’Tis quite a union!”

Maggie couldn’t answer. Her mind was reeling. Besides picturing Nick in her mind the entire time, she simply could not get past the notion that this woman thought and sounded just like her aunt Edithe. And to make the picture clearer, Evan was as devoted to Elthea as Malcolm had been to her aunt. The comparison between the women was incredible. Here she was, stranded in a place and maybe a different time, listening to a woman who held the same beliefs as her relative who lived four hundred years into the future!

“I have upset thee, and I ask thy forgiveness, Maggie. I do get impassioned when I have the opportunity to speak on these matters. It is not often I have someone who might understand my heart.”

“Don’t apologize, Elthea. It’s a lot to take in, I admit, but it isn’t as though I haven’t heard it before. The language might be different, but the concept is the same. My aunt speaks on these same subjects.”

Elthea seemed interested. “The one you are seeking to find?”

Maggie nodded. “Yes. She is a holistic healer, helping those with learning disabilities.”

“This sounds most encouraging. A woman healer and teacher. And she practices openly?”

“Yes. That isn’t to say she’s given the respect of the medical community, but no one is protesting that she’s a witch or anything. So there is progress, healing, taking place.”

“Thou art a most intelligent woman, Maggie Whitaker. May I ask a delicate question?”

“Certainly.” Maggie brought the goblet to her lips and drank deeply of the sweetened brandy wine to fortify her for the question, whatever it was.

“Why are you not married?”

Sighing, Maggie placed the goblet on the table. “I was,” she answered in a low voice. “I am divorced.”

Elthea gasped. “Divorced?”

Maggie almost giggled at the woman’s reaction. “It is very common in my time, Elthea. In fact, almost half the marriages end in divorce. Your Henry VIII started something there.”

“Husbands putting aside wives is a nasty business, indeed. My heart reaches out to thee, child.” Elthea leaned forward and touched Maggie’s cheek in a tender caress. “You are a fine woman and deserve your equal.”

“Oh, Elthea… thank you, but my divorce was equally sought. I mean, my husband filed the legal papers, but I wanted it as much as he did. He just did it, while I was still dragging my feet about the whole situation. It was for the best.”

“Women divorce their husbands?”

“Oh yes. Quite often, as a matter of fact I think that is part of the reason the divorce rate is so high. Women are no longer bound to stay in a marriage that is not nurturing.”

Elthea sat up straighter. “The Church has allowed women to terminate their marriages?”

“Well, not the Roman Church, but just about all others. I know for a fact that in the Protestant faith, it is common. Women do have some options in my time, Elthea… so you see, progress has been made. Just not exactly peace yet.” Maggie’s smile was filled with tenderness for this woman who was really a revolutionary in her time—an undercover agent for peace between men and women. How extraordinary! And what better place to plant her seeds than with the wealthy, who made all the rules the rest of society must live by. Her respect for Elthea grew. This was one difficult time to be an intelligent woman and stay alive.

“Tomorrow I shall arrange for you to return to the wood where Nicholas found you. My son will be distracted with his political aims. He and several of his allies are up to some intrigue, I dare say, and have planned another hunting party. The presence of Nicholas Layton at Greville Manor has forced Robert to seek privacy for his schemes, and he uses the ruse of a hunting party to plot his next move.”

Maggie lowered her voice. “Elthea, what caused the bad blood between Robert and Nick? I could tell tonight that Robert barely tolerates him.”

Elthea nodded. “Nicholas is here by my invitation, and even Robert would not deny me this, for he knows Nicholas’s mother was dear to my heart.”

“And Robert is jealous of your affection for Nick? That’s why he dislikes him?”

“It goes much deeper than that, Maggie. It is political. There are… certain facts that few know concerning our queen. Nicholas’s mentor is Francis Bacon, and Robert sees Bacon as a threat to his schemes. Rightfully so. Since Her Royal Majesty has no legal heirs, Robert’s plans are to put a Catholic back onto the throne. Nicholas is merely caught in the middle, by his association with Sir Francis. It is far too complicated for me to relay now, and not my place to divulge state secrets about Her Royal Majesty. Some have lost their positions, their holdings, even their heads for speaking of it.”

“Well, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” Maggie said, and sat back with her fingers laced over her lap. “I just want to get back to my home again.”

Elthea nodded. “I understand. You are in the midst of an intrigue and not of your doing. A wedding to gain power and finances. Were it not that my cousin Margaret suffered a nervous collapse at her husband’s death, I wouldn’t have agreed to bring her to this home and to my son. These are not peaceful times, and I agree you should leave quickly.”

“Poor Margaret,” Maggie murmured. “I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes.”

“You are in her shoes, child. Though tomorrow you may step back into your own, I shall watch over my cousin as though she were my daughter. Robert’s demands shall not be great upon her person, once he gets the money and prestige at court. And then she will be allowed to grieve as her heart demands.”

“She is still grieving?” Maggie’s heart felt heavy for this woman she impersonated.

“When one finds the other half to one’s soul, and then is separated, I do not know that one ever stops grieving until they are reunited. Margaret shared a great love.”

Elthea’s words reminded Maggie of Nick’s poem, and Elthea’s explanation of divine marriage. “You really believe in that, Elthea? Soul mates?”

“Certes!” The older woman sat up straighter and smiled. “We have just discussed my reasons, and though I have heard that Germans woo like lions, Italians like foxes, Spaniards like friars, and Frenchmen like stinging bees… I do not hold with such nonsense. I think we have many soul mates, those with whom we bond in a deep, harmonious way, yet I think there is only one twin to our soul. Many times we go through life and never find that person, but when we do… when that magic happens and cannot be denied, our search is over and together the two realize their life mission and complete it.”

Maggie’s voice was a low whisper. “Did you find it?”

Elthea lowered her gaze to her lap and studied her hands. “I know of that which Nicholas spoke of tonight. His words struck a chord within my breast.”

“The love? Or, the silence of the heart?”

“Both,” Elthea whispered. “There are many shades of love, child, and I have known the joy and the sorrow that it can carve into one’s soul.” She seemed to shake off her thoughts and looked to her guest. “And this is also known well to thee. I pray when you return to your own home you might also find the joy.”

Neither woman said anything as they both stared into the flames, allowing their thoughts to take them away.

Finally, Maggie said, “I need a friend, Elthea. My heart is heavy with a decision I feel I must make.”

Elthea didn’t turn to her, just smiled as she continued to study the fire. “I have bared my soul to thee this eve, Maggie Whitaker, more so than I have allowed in many years. The honor would be mine to be considered thy friend.”

“Yes,” Maggie whispered. “I, too, feel that we are somehow connected. I know it’s strange, considering that in your mind and maybe even in mine, we are separated by four hundred years, and yet I cannot deny what I feel.”

“I am grateful. Now, how may I help?”

“Well,” Maggie began hesitantly, “it is a delicate matter. One of the heart, I’m afraid.”

“Nicholas?”

Maggie looked sharply to the woman. “How did you know?”

A soft chuckle escaped Elthea’s lips. “Oh, child… I may be old, but my vision is still clear enough to see two people who are irresistibly drawn to each other. I am surprised Robert did not challenge Nicholas to a duel for the manner in which he presented his poetry this eve. I do believe my young friend thinks he has found his dream after all.”

“Me?” Maggie felt a blush of embarrassment and at the same time experienced the racing of her blood, thrilled to know that she hadn’t imagined it. Nick was attracted to her.

“And thy query?”

She took a deep breath, hoping to find the words to express how she felt. “I mean, I know it’s crazy to even be thinking like this. I have half a dozen reason why such a thing is positively insane, yet there’s something inside of me that refuses to deny it, and if I leave tomorrow I’ll never know.”

“You wish to remain?”

“Yes, no… I mean, yes, I have to get back to my time, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I’d had the courage to find out.”

“What is it that you wish to discover?”

Maggie sighed. “If he’s the one. The one I’ve been talking to since I was a child. Even late in my marriage I would lie in bed and look out to the stars and talk to him, whoever he was. I know it sounds nuts, but when my marriage started failing… and when I look back it began years before it actually ended… but when I knew something was wrong, something I couldn’t fix, I would think about someone who really loved me, for me, not for the life I could provide. I knew he was out there, but I didn’t know if I would ever meet him, or if I even should try. Then when my marriage ended, I was so overwhelmed I forgot about love. I even thought it was foolish to believe in it. And now… this!” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded desperate.

Elthea’s smile was warm and motherly. “Oh, child… does thou think one directs where they shall find love? ’Tis my belief that love is a power that cannot be dictated. You do not find it. It finds you. And now you are wondering whether love has found you, Maggie Whitaker?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. It seemed so ridiculous.

“It would make your choice to leave much more difficult, I understand, but you must leave, child. We are expecting Lady Norreys’s arrival within this week, and thus your presence cannot be here. I shall avert my son’s attention until Lady Margaret presents herself, but have you given thought to where you shall go if your trip to the wood is a disappointment?”

“I have to find my way back, Elthea. I can’t even consider any other plan.”

“I think you should speak to Nicholas and follow thy heart. He could accompany you to London.”

“London?” Maggie was shocked. “What is in London?”“ There was that phrase again. Follow your heart.

“Mayhap answers, Maggie.” Elthea rose and sighed deeply. “You have much to contemplate this night. I have kept you from your rest, and I am weary from all this activity. We shall speak again in the morn.”

Maggie stood up and instinctively hugged the older woman. “Thank you so much, Elthea. Truly, you are a friend. If I don’t envy Margaret this marriage, I do think she is blessed to have you as a mother-in-law.”

Elthea pulled back and there was a film of tears in her eyes. “Bless thee, child. You have given me hope that one day peace shall reign. Until then, I shall do what my heart directs. It is a strange journey we are on, is it not?”

Maggie felt all the emotion she had been holding creep closer to the surface, and she could only nod.

“Sleep well, my soul sister. Mayhap one day you and I shall be reunited.”

Maggie couldn’t speak as she watched one incredible woman open the door and leave her alone with her thoughts. There was one that was beginning to torment her.

What if she couldn’t find her way back?