THE UNANSWERABLE QUESTION
Hazel lay in bed that night in the darkness, attempting futilely to fall asleep. She kept thinking of the strange and delightful visit of the dragonfly, and how it had made her feel. She couldn’t deny a bizarre sense of hope—or at least the idea—that her father was with her in her present struggles. Maybe it was only her imagination that the timely appearance of the dragonfly had anything at all to do with her father, but whether imagined or real, if the incident had lifted her spirits and given her comfort, she was willing to take hold of it and choose to believe there was something to the experience beyond the logical explanations of this mortal world.
Hazel finally slept but woke up in an entirely different mood. The details of the room were barely visible in the minimal glow of dawn, and she knew it would be hours yet before breakfast was served. Considering the enormity of all that had happened in not so many days, Hazel almost felt as if a literal weight covered her, holding her against the bed, making her wonder if she would ever be able to get up and face the day. Despite the remarkable acceptance by her aunt and cousins, and even her mother and sister, Hazel kept hearing a question calling to her from a place in her mind over which she had no control. Now that she had become more settled into feeling comfortable here in her cousins’ home, the question was becoming more insistent. Having cried so many tears over her father’s death and her subsequent banishment, the harsh reality of the situation demanded to be acknowledged, and she couldn’t push it away any longer. The question seemed to shout at her, and it was becoming increasingly evident that she needed to acknowledge it, or she would go mad.
Hazel closed her eyes and silently asked God to give her strength to face everything she knew she had to face. Still feeling as if an impossibly heavy blanket held her down, Hazel allowed the question to find its way painfully to her lips, and she whispered it into the open air. “Who am I?” She let out a quivering sigh on the wake of the question and considered its source. She had been raised as the youngest child in the Hollingsworth family, always believing that she had the same blood in her veins as Felicity and Clarence. But that had been a lie. She knew her parents well enough to know that their keeping the truth from her and her siblings had not been an intentional deception; it had simply been a matter of weakness, of human error in avoiding an issue that would surely create disruption and pain. Well, their procrastination in sharing the truth had perpetuated an even more difficult situation. Hazel wished desperately that it had come to light while her father had been living so she could have heard his views on the situation from his own lips, and not just what was repeated by her mother. Hazel had a lifetime of evidence that her parents had loved her no differently than her siblings, a fact that gave her deep comfort. The problem inside herself was not that she’d been treated differently, or that she hadn’t been given the best possible life. The problem lay in the question that she felt forced to speak aloud again: “Who am I?” And the worst part of the question was realizing that she would never know the answer. She wondered if her mother might be able to tell her more about the servant who was her birth mother, but realistically, there had never been a social comfort between the family and the household staff in her home. Hazel doubted her mother would have known this woman—left pregnant and abandoned—any more than she’d known most of the other servants. Hazel’s parents had always been kind and appreciative toward the staff, but not known for interacting with them on any kind of a personal level. Hazel doubted her parents would have known anything more than the woman’s name and the abilities for which she’d been hired.
“Who am I?” Hazel whispered once more into the empty room, which was now growing lighter with the rising sun. Only silence responded and Hazel knew she had to accept that she would never know the answer. She only hoped the heaviness she felt that was related to the question would ease with time.
***
Over the next couple of weeks, Hazel settled comfortably into being a part of the Somersby household. She continued to struggle with her sorrow and grief, but she managed to mostly do so privately, even though her aunt regularly inquired over her well-being and made it very easy to talk about the challenge of coming to terms with the changes in her life. She even told Madge about the question that haunted her, but Madge said the only thing that could be said. “It’s a question you will never be able to answer, my dear. You must find a way to be happy without knowing the answer. You are still Hazel Hollingsworth, no matter what Clarence says.”
Hazel could do nothing but agree, even though she still battled with the question as it rumbled around inside of her mind, popping up several times a day most unexpectedly. Hazel was getting better at pushing the question away, silently talking to it as if it were a misbehaving child. She declared to herself firmly, over and over, that the question couldn’t be answered, and it needed to be dismissed and forgotten. Instead, Hazel strived to concentrate each day on all she had to be grateful for.
Hazel loved being a part of the Somersby family and the way she so quickly felt completely at home. Willa was kind and helpful and also very amiable. Her aunt and cousins were easy to be around for meals and tea and sometimes for a stroll through the gardens or an excursion into town. She’d spent time with each of them individually, as well as together as a group, and she loved them all dearly. She enjoyed their different personalities, their easy bantering and teasing, and their ability to talk about life’s challenges with proper seriousness when necessary. Hazel especially enjoyed attending church with them, and she appreciated the way that members of the congregation remembered her from previous visits and were kind and accepting. She was glad that no one beyond the family knew the truth of her parentage, and she wondered if the same was true in the community she’d left behind. Would Clarence go so far as to publicly declare that she had been adopted? Did he want both her and her mother to be shamed by what he considered scandalous? Or would he prefer that no one knew, in order to keep such shame from landing upon his doorstep in any way? Hazel hoped it was the latter, if only for her mother’s sake. Recalling how he’d made certain Hazel was taken far from home before she’d been abandoned at night by those men who were following his orders, Hazel remembered his declarations that he preferred that no one knew the truth. She wondered what people in the household and in the community might think of her sudden disappearance, but that too was a question without answers.
A few days before Matthew’s wedding was to take place, his fiancée Idris and her family arrived. The household had been busy with wedding plans ever since Hazel had arrived; it had been discussed extensively and woven into each day’s activities. But now that the bride was here, the reality that Matthew would soon be married felt strikingly real to Hazel. She wasn’t certain why she felt a little unsettled over the whole thing, except that perhaps she had simply become wary of dramatic changes in life. Of course, pursuing marriage was the most natural course—not only for Matthew but for all of her cousins. Hazel couldn’t deny a desire to marry and become a mother, but such desires had been smothered by her father’s death and the subsequent discoveries. She wondered if she might ever find a man who would accept her situation, since she knew she could never consider marriage without truthfully disclosing the facts. Not liking that idea at all, she pushed away the possibility of such things with the decision to simply reconsider how she felt once she’d had more time to heal and become accustomed to her new reality.
Matthew’s wedding was an excellent distraction, and there was much talk that Johnna’s nuptials were not far away. Matthew and Idris would return from their lengthy honeymoon just in time for the entire family to travel to the home of Johnna’s fiancé where her wedding would take place. Hazel liked Idris, which shouldn’t have been a surprise since she felt sure her cousins would not choose to marry someone who didn’t fit comfortably into the family. Hazel had very little opportunity to speak with Idris personally, but she was able to observe her and Matthew together during meals and tea and when the families gathered to visit in a way that allowed them all to get to know each other better, and to also finalize wedding plans.
Two days before the wedding, Madge took Hazel aside and handed her a letter, saying only, “Read it, my dear.”
Hazel’s heart quickened as she unfolded the paper in her hand, relatively certain it had to be from her mother. Recognizing Alice’s handwriting, her stomach fluttered with a combination of excitement at having a communication from her and sorrow over their separation. She silently read the letter, which was written to Madge.
I was so glad to hear from you, as always, and especially pleased to know that the package I sent you was received safely.
Hazel considered the cryptic manner in which she was being referred to as a package and realized that her mother truly feared Clarence was intercepting her mail and reading it, and Alice didn’t want him to know where Hazel had gone. She read on.
I’m thrilled to tell you that Felicity and I will be attending Matthew’s wedding, and I send regrets on behalf of Clarence who will be occupied elsewhere. Hazel is currently traveling and will not be attending with us.
Again, Hazel felt astonished over the need for such careful deception, but she ignored that and looked up at Madge. “They’re coming?” she asked with excitement.
“Yes!” Madge said with equal enthusiasm. “Tomorrow. And praise heaven that Clarence is not coming. I didn’t expect him to, but I’m glad to know for certain.”
“Oh, I am as well!” Hazel said and continued to read the letter. It stated the intended day of their arrival, which would indeed be tomorrow. Alice then wrote briefly about how difficult it was to adjust to being without her precious Horace, and she clarified that Hazel had gone traveling in order to deal with her grief. Hazel found it clever of her mother to state this ruse—given the likelihood that her mail was not private.
“Thank you for letting me read it,” Hazel said, handing the letter back to her aunt. “I doubt I’ll be able to sleep a wink tonight. I have missed them both so very much!”
“Of course you have,” Madge said compassionately. “And they are most welcome to stay as long as they possibly can.” Madge took Hazel’s hand and said more quietly, “Perhaps this will give you an opportunity to at least ask your mother if she has any other information about the woman who gave birth to you. Perhaps even just knowing a little more might help ease your mind.”
“Perhaps,” was all Hazel could say before Madge kissed her cheek and expressed the need to get back to entertaining her guests.
Just as she’d anticipated, Hazel had difficulty sleeping that night. Her excitement at the thought of seeing her mother and sister again mixed into tumultuous thoughts about how she now knew they were only related according to legal documents, not because of any blood connection. In spite of how much Hazel had been thoroughly preoccupied with this news and how it had impacted her, she felt as if she hadn’t even begun to absorb how this had upended her entire perception of herself and her place among the people she’d always believed to be family. Hazel had been torn so quickly away from Alice and Felicity that they’d not had even a moment to talk about the situation and its overwhelming impact.
In the darkest part of the night, Hazel allowed herself to give in to the temptation to feel angry with her parents for never telling her the truth. If her adoption had not been kept a secret in the family, it wouldn’t have come to the surface on the wake of her father’s death, when they were already immersed in grief. And if it hadn’t been a secret, perhaps Clarence wouldn’t have been so keen on making such an issue out of it. Maybe he would have taken the opportunity of his newly held power over the family to toss her out anyway—if only to display his power so that he might be able to puff up his own ego even more—but it still wouldn’t have come as such a shock to her.
As Hazel pondered the matter differently than she had previously allowed herself to do, her anger and frustration toward her parents gradually melted into compassion. Not for the first time, Hazel considered what her life might have been like if Horace and Alice Hollingsworth had not taken pity on her being the orphan of an unmarried servant woman. She was grateful for the life they’d given her, even if she would have preferred that they’d been more straightforward about the actual facts regarding her situation. Still, she wasn’t one to hold a grudge, and she felt certain her mother felt plenty of regret without Hazel heaping any further difficult feelings into the mixture. She loved her parents, and she had no trouble forgiving them for however they might have erred in this matter. They had given her so much that was good, which far outweighed any frustrations she was experiencing.
Hazel was finally able to sleep as she focused only on how glad she would be to see her mother and sister, and how grateful she was that neither of them harbored even a degree of Clarence’s attitude over the matter.
Hazel woke up late but found a breakfast tray had been left for her. The tea in the pot was still warm, so she knew it hadn’t been terribly long since Willa had crept quietly into her room to leave it. While Hazel enjoyed her breakfast and prepared herself for the day—with Willa’s assistance—she wondered when her mother and sister might arrive, certain she would be jittery and full of nerves until they did. She longed to share private conversations with them, which she felt certain would help her move forward in coming to terms with these changes in her life that were so drastic she sometimes felt as if she didn’t even know who she was anymore. When such thoughts arose, she did her best to suppress them beneath the knowledge that she was still a member of this family, and with the exception of Clarence, she had still been received and accepted with love. But how could she not wonder about her natural parents? Who were they? What had they been like? Did she have their features, their character traits? And if so, was that a good thing, or otherwise?
Hazel joined the family for lunch, which was a rather loud and complicated affair with Idris and her family present as well. She didn’t have much appetite since she’d eaten breakfast late, and she was also growing steadily more anxious about the arrival of her mother and sister. She hoped and prayed it wouldn’t be much longer, or she felt certain she might actually feel ill from the anticipation of their arrival and its associated emotions.
After lunch Hazel went to her room where she could wait alone and not give anyone the opportunity to see how nervous and even agitated she was feeling. She’d communicated with Willa—who would let the other servants on duty know—that she wanted to be informed as soon as her mother and sister arrived. Hazel knew they would be taken to guest rooms to freshen up, and then they would be able to just spend some time together and talk as much as they needed to. She hoped very much that they would arrive before tea, especially since Hazel had already decided she would decline joining the large family group for tea; she preferred to have tea with just Alice and Felicity.
Hazel was pacing and wringing her hands when a knock at the door startled her, and Willa peeked in to tell Hazel that her mother and sister had arrived, and they would join Hazel for tea in her sitting room, which would be in less than half an hour.
“Excellent!” Hazel said on a long breath of relief. “Thank you, Willa.”
“Of course, Miss,” Willa said with a smile. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, but thank you,” Hazel said. “You’re always so kind.”
“As are you, Miss,” Willa said, and they exchanged a warm smile before Willa left and closed the door.
Hazel took her time freshening up, not wanting to just sit and wait any longer than necessary. She went to her sitting room and sat down only a minute before two maids brought trays into the room and laid everything out for a splendid tea. Hazel thanked them before they left, then she glanced at the clock to see that it was four o’clock exactly. At that very moment she heard the approach of footsteps in the hall and the sound of beloved familiar voices conversing with each other; she couldn’t discern what they were saying, but she had no doubt it was her mother and sister approaching the open door of the sitting room. Hazel stood, took a deep breath, and rushed toward them the moment they stepped through the door. The three of them all clutched tightly onto each other, creating a little circle with the embrace they shared. Hazel realized she was crying at the same moment she heard Alice and Felicity sniffling. She felt deeply touched and comforted to know that they had missed her as much as she’d missed them.
“Oh, my goodness,” Alice said, stepping back first from the circle to pull her handkerchief out from where it was tucked into the cuff of her sleeve. She wiped at her tears while smiling at Hazel. “Oh, my dear, sweet daughter!” she exclaimed with more tears, and Hazel was overcome with gratitude. Just to know that Alice hadn’t changed her feelings or attitude toward Hazel meant the world. “I’ve been so worried about you!” Alice added with the same motherly concern she’d always shown toward Hazel. “Are you all right?”
“I’m being well cared for,” Hazel said, unable to say that she was all right, because she wasn’t. “Everyone here has been very kind about the situation.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” Alice declared.
“As am I,” Felicity added, wiping at her tears with her own handkerchief. “I’ve missed you so very much.”
“And I you,” Hazel said, reaching for Felicity’s hand, the one free of a handkerchief. “Let’s sit down,” Hazel said. “We have so much to talk about.”
“Indeed we do,” Felicity agreed with enthusiasm, but Alice said nothing, and Hazel wondered if the topic was difficult for her. Difficult or not, Hazel knew she needed some questions answered—questions that no living soul except her mother could ever answer. She didn’t want to hurt her mother’s tender feelings, but they needed to talk about this revelation that had completely altered Hazel’s life.
After each of the women had poured themselves a cup of tea and had begun enjoying the delicious repast, Hazel expected some conversation to begin, but it didn’t. She didn’t want to have to initiate this mandatory discussion, but it was evident she had no choice.
“Mother,” she said, “I can understand why you probably don’t want to talk about this situation, but I have so many questions; I must know where I came from . . . who I am.”
Alice looked mildly alarmed by Hazel’s forthright manner, or perhaps it was the topic itself that upset her. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I don’t believe there’s anything else to tell you.”
“Surely you must know something that can help appease these difficult feelings for Hazel,” Felicity interjected, much to Hazel’s relief. She was so grateful that her sister understood and would be eager to help her. Glancing toward Hazel she added, “I’ve thought a great deal about how I would feel if it were the other way around . . . if I were the one who had just learned I had been adopted, and I can’t even imagine how difficult this must be.” She reached out a hand to take Hazel’s and offered a reassuring squeeze. Speaking directly to their mother, Felicity went on, “Clearly this is not easy for you, Mother. If it were easy, you would have told us the truth a long time ago. But the truth has come forward now, and if I were Hazel, I would want answers; I believe she needs to know the truth.”
“I understand,” Alice said, ignoring her tea and once again wiping tears. “I have so many regrets about our not being more open about this years ago, but we can’t change the past.”
“No, we can’t change the past,” Hazel said with firm kindness, “but now that the truth has come forward, I feel . . . so lost . . . so . . . unsure of who I am.”
“You are my daughter!” Alice said vehemently. “And you always will be.”
“I know that, Mother,” Hazel said, “and I’m grateful to know that my family—with the exception of Clarence—have not changed their feelings or attitude toward me. I’m grateful to have been raised by such fine parents, to have a wonderful sister; and my aunt and cousins have been so kind. I’m so grateful. But I now know that I am also the daughter of a servant and a scoundrel. And I need to know everything you know. Such information will not change the life I live—thankfully. But perhaps it will help me come to terms with this constant internal upheaval I feel. Please, Mother. You must know something more than what you’ve already told me. Just tell me the story of how everything happened . . . how I came to be your daughter. Don’t worry about repeating what you’ve said before; just tell me. Everything happened so fast the day I left, I’m not certain I even remember correctly what you did tell me.”
“Very well,” Alice said on the wave of a reluctant sigh. Hazel and Felicity exchanged a concerned and expectant glance as their mother looked at the floor and sighed again, clasping her hands together so tightly that her fingers turned white. Hazel just waited for Alice to speak even though a full minute or two passed in silence before she finally said, “You know, of course, that our household has a great many servants. There are some that I know very well because I work closely with them. There are others I know by name but know very little else about them. And there are still others that I don’t know at all. They work in the kitchens or the laundry, or they perform cleaning tasks when I’m not in the same room. They are actually taught to avoid members of the family.” Alice sighed again. “As I told you, your father was in India; he’d been gone for more than a year and I was missing him terribly. I confess that I not only missed his company when he went on his excursions, but I missed having him around to help make difficult decisions when they arose. Those he’d hired to care for the estate and household were excellent at their work, but occasionally something came up that couldn’t be handled by anyone but me. And this was one of those things.”
Alice cleared her throat and shifted in her chair, but she still avoided looking at either of her daughters while she now wrung her handkerchief tightly in her hands. “When the housekeeper brought it to my attention that one of the kitchen maids was very pregnant, I was quite stunned, to say the least. The poor girl had been sorely wronged by one of the footmen who had only worked there a short time. He had apparently wooed her with many lies and had abruptly left as soon as she told him she was pregnant. She had carefully hidden her pregnancy from everyone in the household until it was impossible to do so any longer, and she was due to deliver within the month according to our best estimations. I insisted that she remain at the house to have the baby, and I didn’t see any reason why she couldn’t be given work that made it possible for her to care for her child. I certainly didn’t want her out on the streets without employment and a baby to care for. The very idea made me ill. She might have made some poor choices, but she was mostly guilty of simply being naive and gullible. How could I judge her for that? She needed compassion and security. I sent for the doctor to examine her and make certain all was well, and he declared her to be in good health, and reported that everything appeared to be fine with her pregnancy. He also agreed to keep the matter confidential. After that, she was given work that didn’t require her to be on her feet. The housekeeper and one of the maids—women neither of you would remember because the housekeeper passed away long ago, and that particular maid left our household while you were still a baby and Felicity was still so young—were both very helpful and supportive. None of us saw any reason why the outside world would ever have to know that an illegitimate child was being raised among the servants in the household; and when the child was old enough it too could be given fair employment and a good life as far as it was possible.”
Alice paused as if to gather her thoughts, and Hazel asked a question that had been nagging at her ever since she’d learned the truth. “What was her name? The woman who gave birth to me? My . . . other mother?”
Alice looked up at Hazel for the first time since she’d begun her story. “Julia,” she said. “And before you ask, I don’t know her surname or anything else about her. Those who do the hiring for the household require very little information from people applying for the lower positions in the house. They are hired on a trial basis; it’s their ability to be able to do the work and be reliable that matters most. Everyone who knew Julia was aware that she had no living family members, but she was very private about her personal life. I know that’s not what you want to hear, Hazel. But that’s all the information I can give you. The same is the case with the man who fathered you. No one knew anything about him beyond the fact that he did his job well, and that he did his job well, although he was known to some as being somewhat crass and difficult—not surprising considering the position in which he left Julia.” Alice swallowed carefully and cleared her throat again, as if she were trying very hard to maintain her composure long enough to get through this grueling conversation. “I want you to know,” Alice said, scooting forward on her chair so that she could reach out and take Hazel’s hand, “that the circumstances of your blood parents have nothing to do with you and your fine character. As I got to know her during this difficult time, I found that Julia was a kind, sweet woman; you are very much like her. I never met your birth father and was glad of it, considering his reputation. But his lack of integrity and scruples have nothing to do with you. I hope you can believe that.”
Hazel could only say, “I’m trying to.” Already, hearing these details felt more difficult than she’d expected. Knowing her birth mother’s name, and hearing that she was hardworking and kind soothed Hazel somewhat. At the same time, hearing more of her birth father’s deplorable behavior was disturbing and made it challenging to separate herself from the reality that he was a part of her. She was also deeply disappointed to realize there was no information available to help her find out anything more about the people who had given her life. She knew that she needed to focus on her gratitude for being taken in and raised by such loving and kind parents. Their wealth and station meant little to her in contrast to the security and love with which she’d been brought up. But she still had unanswered questions and said to her mother, “Please tell me what happened exactly. You told me that Father came home from India, and that . . . Julia . . .” It felt strange to feel the name pass through her lips, knowing her connection to this woman, although she liked having a name by which to call her, since having two mothers was very confusing at times. Alice would always be the woman Hazel considered as her mother, but she could no longer deny that another woman had given birth to her, and that was no small thing. Hazel cleared her throat and forcefully swallowed any rising emotion in order to get this over with. “You told me that Julia died. When? A few days after I was born?”
“That’s right,” Alice said. “Your father returned from India not long after Julia’s pregnancy had come to my attention. He agreed with how it was being handled but left me to deal with the details. I was with Julia during her labor, and there when you came into the world. In fact,” her voice cracked, and she dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, “the doctor handed you to me right after he’d cut the cord. I remember holding you in my arms and admiring how beautiful you were before I handed you over to Julia. She was so happy, but even in those first few minutes of your life she expressed her regret that you had been born under such circumstances, and how she hoped that your life would not be too difficult as a result. I assured her that both she and her baby would always be safe within our home.”
Alice sighed and let go of Hazel’s hand to lean back in her chair. She closed her eyes as if she were either suddenly very tired or she couldn’t bear to look at Hazel as she went on. “I was terribly exhausted after being with Julia through more than twenty hours of labor. You and Julia were left in the care of the servants who were aware of the situation, and the doctor had assured us that all was well. By the time I felt like I’d caught up on my sleep, I was told Julia had developed a fever. A wet nurse had been found for you, and I knew you were in good hands. I focused my attention on remaining close to Julia and assisting the servants in their care of her. The doctor told us it was just one of those things that happens, and we could only hope she would pull through. But . . . as you know . . . she didn’t.” Alice sniffled and pressed her handkerchief beneath her nose. “I’d become so close to her through those final weeks of her pregnancy that I was overcome with grief. I felt so worried about you, but I was glad to let others care for you while I confess that I shut myself away, literally making myself sick from the grief, which made it impossible to attend her burial.” She sniffled again and took a deep, composing breath. “Once I started feeling better, I insisted on seeing you, and I loved to just hold you. You’d already changed so much, as infants do; they change every day, and I regretted the time I’d missed out on being with you. Clarence and Felicity were fascinated with you and loved to be around you. And your father felt the same. He too loved to hold you, and our family time began to be centered around you. That’s when your father suggested that we officially adopt you. Your brother and sister were too young to understand or remember anything except that you were already a part of our family. Children so young have no understanding of the process of pregnancy and childbirth, and since I had been ill in my room for a couple of weeks, in their memory I believe they assumed it was because I had given birth to you; at least that’s how they remembered it when they got older. I know because I asked them about their memories, wanting to know if they had any suspicion that the means by which you’d come into our family had been unconventional.”
Alice sighed and again looked at the floor, as if she were ashamed. “Your father and I often discussed the fact that we should tell you—all of you—about the adoption. But we were all so happy; our family felt complete. We didn’t want to disrupt any of that. And the more time that passed, the more difficult it became to think of how we might go about having that conversation.” Alice wiped fresh tears from her cheeks. “If I’d had any idea of the disruption that would be caused by not telling any of you the truth, I would have insisted on having the facts out in the open many years ago—and I’m certain your father would agree.” She looked up at Hazel and said with fervor, “My dear, sweet Hazel! Your father and I never loved you any less or any differently! You must believe me! And you mustn’t let this change your future, or the way you feel about yourself. You mustn’t! No one but family need ever know, and even if they do it doesn’t matter. You are a part of this family, and you always will be. I don’t care what Clarence says or how he thinks or feels. I’ve had difficulty connecting with him since he was a youth. He is who he is, and I can’t change that, even though his attitude has given me so much sorrow. But you will always be my daughter, every bit as much as Felicity—and she agrees. We’ve discussed it thoroughly.”
“Yes, we have,” Felicity said, “and I do agree—wholeheartedly. I couldn’t ask for a better sister. I don’t want what we share to ever change. And in spite of Clarence’s ridiculous edicts, we will find ways to see each other and to communicate. We will figure it out.”
Silence fell over them in a way that made it clear both Alice and Felicity had said all they felt the need to say. Hazel allowed the entirety of the conversation to settle into her, overcome with both disappointment and relief—and the realization that she needed time to let her mind process all that had been said. She was glad Alice and Felicity would be staying for a few days after the wedding, which would give them the opportunity to have more conversations that Hazel hoped would help her come to terms with these changes more fully before they were separated again.
Hazel thanked them for their candor as well as their unwavering love and acceptance, then they resumed their afternoon snack, even though the tea had grown cool. She made a point of telling them that she would like to talk more after she’d had the chance to think through all this information—and after the excitement of tomorrow’s wedding had died down—and she was glad they both agreed.
After tea, Hazel expressed the need for some rest and hugged her mother and sister tightly before returning to her room. Truthfully, she knew she would never be able to relax enough to take a nap even though she felt emotionally drained. She just wanted to be alone with her rumbling thoughts and the turmoil of emotion that was beginning to feel normal. She sat in a soft, wide chair near the window and gazed absently outside while her mind reviewed everything her mother had told her about Julia’s tragic story. Hazel wished desperately that she had information about Julia’s origins, but it was evident that she needed to accept the fact that the knowledge she had now of her parentage was all she would ever get, and she had to make peace with that.
***
The evening was somewhat chaotic with both families—along with some wedding guests who had arrived throughout the afternoon—all gathered in the grand dining room for dinner, and then in the largest parlor in the house for coffee and visiting. Hazel could see that her mother and sister were enjoying the opportunity to socialize, and Alice especially was clearly quite taken with Idris and pleased with the obvious love Matthew and Idris felt for each other. Hazel was pleased about that as well, but during the evening she developed a headache and felt the need to go to bed early, especially since tomorrow would be a big day and she needed to be at her best.
Hazel first went to the kitchen to ask the cook for an herbal headache remedy, since she was known for having such things on hand. She then went to her room and was settled into bed within just a few minutes, grateful to fall asleep quickly. She awoke to find her room vaguely illuminated with the first hints of predawn light. Memories of bizarre dreams were jumbled in her mind; she could only recall haphazard pieces, none of which made any sense at all. But she was left with a distinct sensation that even in sleep her mind was trying to make sense of what she’d learned about herself and her origins, and perhaps equally as maddening was all that she had not learned. She knew practically nothing about her parentage, and she had to accept that she would never know any more than she did now. If she had any information at all—such as her parents’ surnames and where they had lived before coming to work at her home—she might have been able to hire some kind of investigator to find out if she had any other relatives. Or perhaps her father was still alive. Given what she’d been told about his character—or rather the lack of it—she wondered if she would want to meet him even if it were possible. It occurred to her as she watched the room slowly fill with daylight that maybe it was better to not know any more than she did; perhaps ignorance was a blessing and she simply needed to make peace with the facts as they stood, and be grateful that she hadn’t been raised as an illegitimate daughter of a servant. She was glad to know that Julia had been a kind and good woman, and Hazel wanted to believe that they would have loved each other enough to make up for the cloud under which she’d been born. But such scandal was difficult if not impossible to overcome; both Hazel and Julia would have always been looked down upon, even if certain members of the household were supportive. Hazel had been blessed to not only be taken in by Horace and Alice, but to officially have been given their name and become a part of their family. Still, for all that Hazel couldn’t deny her gratitude, she felt deeply unsettled over the fact that in the beginning she had been born illegitimate. It was only Julia’s death that had changed the course of Hazel’s life, and it didn’t seem right that she should be so blessed as the result of so much tragedy. But nothing could ever change the fact that when all was said and done, she was still illegitimate by birth.