A Blue Mountain Memory

XXXIX

The staff knew nothing of Cora and Henry's engagement until the following day.

Edith requested Cora to move her belongings to the guest room on the second floor, where Henry had stayed during his visit last summer. The old woman insisted that it would be more convenient and proper to have her nephew's fiancé staying in a more spacious and comfortable room. As much as Cora did not want to leave her tiny, cramped, corner room on the top floor, she also did not want to ignore Edith's wishes.

As her position in the home changed, so did the treatment of her by the servants. Only Mr. Wills and Magdalina stayed by Cora's side in that first week. Mr. Wills gave a forced and concerned congratulations, but hugged Cora nonetheless and reminded her that he would always be a loyal resource for her should anything change.

Magdalina had practically squealed. She pulled Cora into her strong, lengthy arms and spun them around.

"Oh, the dresses!" She exclaimed. "The flowers! The feast! It will be marvelous, Cora!"

Cora assumed that Magdalina must have had a more romantic view of life than herself.

Retty and Isla scowled Cora as they passed her in the hall. Sure, they had done so before, but their eyes were no longer daggers– they were swords, pistols, cannons, any type of severe weaponry that could cause Cora's body the most harm. Cora could only imagine what the two women said to each other in private, probably plotting her death, or planning to sabotage the wedding. Feel free, Cora thought glumly to herself, do what you like.

Cora did not care about them. She did not care about the stabbing glares thrown at her, or the malicious whispering as she passed others in the hall. Cora only cared about Richard, whom she had seen only once in the week since her acceptance.

Several days after word spread, she spotted Richard in the hall on the third floor as she went to retrieve her last possessions from her former room. Forgetting that she had lied to and betrayed him, Cora let a smile spread across her face as she reached her hand towards his arm. It took her a moment to recognize the painful expression on his face as he approached.

His stern glance fixed on the floor ahead of him, with no chance of wandering towards her. As her hand brushed across his sleeve, her mouth open but void of any words, Richard yanked his arm to the side as he steadily continued past Cora. He entered his room, slamming the door shut behind himself. Cora wanted to run to the door and pound her fists against the wood, pleading with Richard to forgive her, pleading with him to understand that she had no other choice. But she reminded herself of her duty.

She had to be an adult now, and sometimes adults just let things go. Richard would have to be one of those things. She descended the stairs with a stony face, proud to have fought against the urge to weep. But as soon as her new bedroom door closed behind her, Cora broke into a sob and spent the rest of the evening crying into her silk pillowcase which she abhorred but also loved.

She now sat across from Edith in the drawing room, warmed by the roaring fire before them. For a moment, Cora allowed herself to believe it was the beginning days of her companionship, where Susan was still alive, Richard was still her friend, and Henry was still in New Hampshire– nothing but a name uttered from Edith's lips from time to time.

"That is why I'm glad you two will marry," Edith commented.

Cora snapped out of her trance, shaking her head, and attempting to place herself within the conversation.

"I'm sorry Edith, I was daydreaming."

"Not to worry dear," Edith chuckled, "I was merely commenting that your marriage to my dear Henry is a relief to my poor old nerves."