Imperfect (Disappeared #1)

Chapter Four

Theodosia paused at the crest of the hill that afternoon to give the mansion a lingering look. After the conversation with her mother, the sight of the great house made her feel equally guilty and resentful. 

"Goodbye forever," she whispered, trying on the phrase for size. 

The massive three-story sandstone structure was always impressive at a distance, with its Doric columns, many bay windows, Welsh slate roof, and Greek statues. Originally built around 1400 and much renovated and expanded since that time, the imposing estate seemed to mock her words. As if she could ever leave it. The ancient building and the customs within had survived the flight of fancy of many a young woman.

A wave of anxiety flooded Theodosia, making her heart pound. And what about Louisa? Her maid, Sarah? Even her mother. She loved them all. Leaving them seemed impossible.

Leaving them was impossible. What was she thinking? It wasn't even an option. What she did have were these few precious hours of tethered freedom. She should enjoy it. Theodosia gave the house a defiant look, turned around, and descended the little path that snaked through the last of the ornamental gardens. It eventually led to the woods, where true wild nature began.

The first part of the wood was tame enough. Tall aspens with bleached, smooth trunks and great spreads of green, waxy leaves framed a narrow path. Bluebells grew in great riots among the lush grass on the forest floor. Dappled sunlight lit up the delicate flowers and danced as the breeze disturbed the branches above.

Theodosia walked along leisurely, comfortable in a favorite sage muslin dress, tan overcoat, and wide brimmed hat. Something else was chewing at her. She knew she had no right to be upset. The price for her lack of freedom was incredible privilege. Yet it was hard to banish the sense of loneliness that had dogged her since she was a child. There was nothing she wanted more than to be understood, especially by her own family.

Louisa, she feared, would grow up with the same problem. Dear Louisa. She so wished she could be with her. She tried to sneak the child out with her on her walks as often as possible, but now Louisa was shut up in the nursery in punishment. Theodosia remembered many days when she had suffered the same fate.

Her unhappiness drove her even deeper into the forest as she searched for respite. Tired of the standard footpath she always took, she skirted off onto a smaller path and took several more turns after that. Soon the path was little more than trodden grass. She wasn't worried about getting lost, as she knew the forest like a childhood best friend. 

In this part of the woods, the bluebells were more dispersed and feathery ash trees blocked the light. Patches of sunlight still danced here and there but it was darker, and much quieter, too. Theodosia eagerly pushed her way through the dense branches. Always in a hurry to explore, that day she felt especially frantic to push farther than ever. 

Marrying Lord Merton's son was now inevitable. Her fate had been sealed. The London social season had already begun, which meant that in a matter of weeks, she might never be able to return to the woods again. Never! The idea was too horrible to bear. She rushed onward, faster and faster, forcing herself into the depths of the woods, as far away as she could. Her heart hammered dreadfully, urging her on. 

It was some time before she stopped, realizing she had reached an area she had never seen before. The forest was flooded and a dense mist had collected, partly obscuring the weeping willows and their drooping branches that hung into the water. It was so quiet that the silence took on an almost deafening quality. 

Theodosia realized that she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going. Indeed, she was lost, though she wasn't afraid. The woods didn't scare her. Being married off to Edward Merton — that was real cause for concern. Being lost was just opportunity for adventure, nothing more or less. After all, the woods of Helenshire were no great tangled wilderness, and she was sure she would find her way soon.

Thus, she walked on, lifting her skirts and hopping from one patch of dry land to another. Eventually the ground dried up. And there in front of her was the strangest, largest tree she had ever seen. She stopped in her tracks, awed.

It was enormously tall, as high as the mansion house if not taller, wide as a cottage, and gnarled as the hands of an old woman. The top was a riot of short little branches with strange leaves. It looked just like a drawing Theodosia had seen in a book, though the caption had said the tree was native to Africa, not England.

And yet there it was. And stranger still, it seemed vibrantly alive. The trunk appeared to breathe; it pulsated in and out like a set of lungs. The tree seemed to radiate its own light even within the thick fog.

Entranced, Theodosia walked toward it. The massive tree towered far over her. She put a tentative hand on it, almost expecting to wake from a dream.

Instead, something else happened.

Energy filled her entire body. She felt the fibers of her being expanding and contracting along with the tree. Theodosia stood, not afraid but enraptured, feeling the movement and the light it created inside her. She felt at peace.

Happy. 

And resolved.

She pressed her heart against the trunk, breathed in deeply to her very core, and shut her eyes. Theodosia felt then as if every atom in her body flickered suddenly, like stars glinting in the reflection of a lake before a sudden wind. Then there was a brief though intense feeling like she were being heated, melted, and then re-formed again. A great sense of hope welled in her, as if she were reaching toward something she had always longed for yet never been able to articulate before, until now. 

Perhaps that was why she wasn't afraid when she felt herself disappearing. Her loneliness, fear, and uncertainty all vanished, leaving an immense feeling of calm.

It's time to go home, she thought. She opened her eyes. 

Yet what she saw wasn't Helenshire. Far from it.

*******************************************************************************

Thanks so much for reading! I don't appreciate it at all. Just kidding! I appreciate it a lot.

To stalk me, go to: bronwynkienapple.com.