Page 40 of The Secret Identity of the Lord's Aide
“It’s quite all right, Everett,” Lord Linfield offered. “It truly is.”
“Regardless, there she is.” Everett sighed. “And I can’t do anything else about it, except watch her ageing from the street below. She’ll become older, and I will become older, and we’ll never have one another. Not truly.”
Nathaniel felt awash with a strange sense of rage. He couldn’t comprehend this life: one in which he wasn’t allowed to be with Lady Elizabeth, and Everett wasn’t meant to be with Nelle, because of some sort of strict understanding of what the world was meant to be. Suddenly, he burst to the right, stumbling into the street below. Everett called out his name from the carriage, completely shocked. The carriage driver’s eyes leered at him, seemingly demanding answers.
“What on earth are you doing, Nathaniel?” Everett cried.
But Nathaniel had begun a strict march towards the gates of the mansion, squaring his shoulders as he moved. His brain fizzed with the alcohol from their lunch, and he felt strangely arrogant, unable to halt his rapid gait. Everett stumbled up behind him, reaching for his elbow. At the gates, Everett finally grabbed him, yanking him around. He huffed, gawking at Nathaniel with the angry eyes fit for a much younger man.
“What are you on about?” he demanded.
“You can’t possibly think that your life will become what you want it to be if you cannot act,” Nathaniel blared. “You must call on her. Tell her how you feel about her. Otherwise, you’re a coward.”
Everett’s eyes glittered. He coughed, moving in between Nathaniel and the gate. He crossed his arms over his chest, becoming a wall between the house and Nathaniel. “It’s not your cross to bear, Nathaniel.”
The two men gazed at each other, both burning with anger. Nathaniel couldn’t exactly name where his anger was coming from. He felt youthful and arrogant, willing to burst through Everett’s firm stance and march up the rest of the way to the mansion.
“Who is she, Nathaniel?” Everett finally demanded. “Who has gotten you so riled up, hey? Because it isn’t Nelle. Nelle is my problem. My blissful memory. But it shouldn’t be any reason for you to act this way.” He swallowed, his throat clenching hard.
The rain seemed oddly thicker still than it had been, bursting against Nathaniel’s shoulders. He allowed those shoulders to droop and turned his eyes towards the ground. He recognised that he was acting a fool, that his actions had everything to do with his own raucous, beating heart. If he was ever going to be in Parliament; if he was ever going to align himself with the beliefs of the people of England, he couldn’t be this way.
“Tell me, Nathaniel,” Everett said.
Nathaniel traced his fingers across his forehead. He remembered when he’d been a boy; it had been difficult for him to ever verbalise how he felt. When he was ill, it took him several hours to call to his mother. He felt better about suffering in silence. He didn’t want to cause harm to anyone.
“I have a secret, Everett,” Nathaniel said. “But I simply can’t explain it to you here. Not out in the open.”
When Nathaniel stepped back into the carriage, he turned his eyes back towards Everett, who kept his stance towards the house. He gazed up at Nelle, still in the window. For a moment, Nathaniel felt sure that Nelle spotted Everett, as well. But she turned back, swiping the curtain over the window. Everett turned, his eyebrows high, and stepped into the carriage after Nathaniel. “Sometimes, I think she knows I think about her. I can feel her thinking about me, somehow. I can’t explain it.”
Everett clicked the door closed behind him, placed his hands atop his thighs and called to the carriage boy. “We’ll head to mine, my boy,” he said. “925 W. Randolph Street.” He gave Nathaniel a final, meaningful look, before shrugging. “I hope you have a bit of room in you for some fine whisky. Straight from Scotland herself.”
Nathaniel prepared himself to do something he hadn’t allowed himself to do in many, many years: speak the precise truth, without leaving anything out. He knew it would bring him calm, and perhaps a bit of insight. But still, as the carriage clunked towards Lord Beauchamp’s mansion, he felt stricken with fear. His tongue was thick, plastered to the bottom of his mouth.
Chapter 19
Lady Elizabeth appeared outside the shelter just after dusk, peering in through the windows. The long line of children swept around the corner, towards the ballroom-sized dinner table at which several of them sat, licking their plates clean. Inside, laughter echoed from wall to wall, and their little mouths smiled big smiles. Bess didn’t want to go inside just now, as it would mean probably two hours of hugs and giggles, of catching up with the kids she’d known for years.
No. Tonight, she had a mission: to meet with Peter, and to bring him home. As he didn’t have any family to speak of, and had agreed to be her assistant, he would be coming to live with her for a brief period—at least until he could get on his feet for the first time. Irene had agreed that this was the proper thing to do, to raise a boy of 14 for a year or two until he could afford a life on his own. “I never truly craved being a mother,” Irene had said, sounding oddly thrilled. “But …” She’d trailed off, forming a little crinkle between her eyebrows. “But, do you suppose he likes the same sorts of foods we do? Should I begin cooking differently?” At this, Bess had just chuckled, throwing her arms around her best friend, her companion. “He’ll eat everything, I’m sure.”
Bess spotted Peter through the window. She watched him as he grabbed a roll from the top of the large basket of buttered ones and then churned through the crowd to get to the door. The door swung open almost too quickly, forcing Bess backward. Peter chewed, grinning madly at her, a small bag wrapped around his shoulder.
“You ready?” Bess asked, her cheeks stretching out wide.
They began to amble back through town, where Bess needed to collect a selection of papers at the offices of The Rising Sun which she needed to construct the rest of the speech for Lord Linfield. The rain was dull against their backs. Peter donned a hat, and Bess stretched an umbrella over their heads, chuckling. “Beautiful weather we’re having, eh?” she asked.
“Better beneath this umbrella, and in your home, than out here on the streets,” Peter said, casting a shadowed glance towards the bricks below. “Although I can’t help thinking about the rest of them. The ones I’m leaving behind.”
Bess halted quickly, reaching for Peter’s forearm and gripping it. She gave Peter her most meaningful gaze, shaking her head. “You can’t possibly think that way, my darling,” she told him. “You can’t think that you’re undeserving. Your best bet, darling Peter, is to better this world by bettering yourself. You’ll work for me. You’ll help out at the shelter as much as you can. And eventually, perhaps, you’ll work your way up the ranks of the world so that you can alter the rules that make it currently so evil.”
Peter gaped at her, seemingly unaccustomed to her ferocity. “I will do it, Lady Elizabeth,” he said.
“Good,” Bess said, slowly releasing his arm. “I don’t mean to scare you, darling. But you’re correct in thinking that you have to demand much from yourself. You simply cannot feel guilty. It’s a waste of a feeling, I can assure you.”
Bess and Peter fell into an easy gait after that, both seemingly waiting for the other to speak first. Bess’s heart rattled in her chest. She wondered if she’d put too much on the poor boy already, forcing him to cast his eyes so far into the future.
As they neared The Rising Sun offices, the crowd became thick: people thrusting themselves past Bess and Peter, glaring at who they assumed to be just a street urchin. “Get back to your alleyway, you little mongrel!” one woman spat at Peter, her face curling up with rage.
“Don’t listen to her,” Bess murmured to Peter, grabbing his elbow and yanking him towards the newspaper office. “Honestly, by tomorrow, the sun will be shining. You’ll be well-dressed and well-fed. Didn’t I tell you Irene—you know Irene—has sewn you some new clothing? Goodness, you’ll look so handsome.”
