Embark | h.s

Twenty

The carriage ride from the port to Berkeley Manor seemed to carry on forever. Nerissa slept peacefully in Ana's lap, she had always been a good sleeper, and Harry dozed in and out of light slumbers. Celia, however, was too nervous to rest.

Bumps and divots on the road beneath the carriage's wheels jostled them around rigorously, yet everyone, except Celia, seemed to be relaxed. She drummed her fingers on her thigh relentlessly, her eyes glued to the window and wandering about the outside world. Being back in England caused memories to resurface; her friendship with the Queen, Isabel's near-death experience, her own imprisonment. She watched as the nature surrounding them morphed into a blob of green with speckles of color. It mirrored her memories, except they were far less colorful—a solid gray hue with occasional strokes of lighter colors along the way, typically associated with Harry.

She flicked her gaze to him. His eyes were closed and his lips were parted as he slept soundly. She thought back on the day they first met. He saved her from death. But even deeper than that, he saved her from a life of unhappiness. Much like the events of that day, her life was an ocean and she had been drowning until he pulled her up for air, showing her the sun for what felt like the first time.

The carriage pulled to a slow stop, taking Celia from her thoughts and sending her back to reality. She peered out of the window and saw the familiar towering manor as they pulled up to the front. Celia patted Harry's leg to wake him up.

He stirred and peeled his eyes open, groggily looking around. "What's going on? Why have we stopped?"

"We're here," Celia answered.

The driver came around to the door and opened it, revealing even more of the beautiful house outside. Celia was the first to step out. She smoothed the wrinkles out of her gown and looked around, gazing up at the monstrosity of a house. She had never realized just how large it was until she had lived in the small huts in Roanoke.

Then, she saw the door open. Celia clasped her hands together, anxiously awaiting the sight of either her sister or James. When the door opened fully, the body of a male dressed in all black stepped into the light: James. Celia staggered forward, but came to a halt when she noticed the bags under his eyes. Purple circles lined his once glimmering eyes that were now puffy and pink. His jaw tightened and his features hardened, as if he were trying to make himself look stronger.

Celia felt Harry's hand wrap around her waist, hugging her into his side. She kept her eyes on James. Something was wrong.

He began to amble down the steps, eventually making his way to Celia and Harry, and stopping in front of them. He did not even try to force a smile. Instead, a single tear that had formed in his eye spilled over the brim and strolled down his cheek.

"This isn't how I had hoped to see you," he said softly, his voice hoarse and low. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand and cleared his throat to gain composure.

"James—" Celia said. The lump growing in her throat prevented her from finishing the words she had aimed to speak. She swallowed hard and stepped forward, reaching for his hands.

He took her small hands and squeezed them lightly. "Izzy," he breathed.

"No," she muttered. Tears welled up in her eyes. She shook her head rapidly, as if it would reverse the truth. "No, she can't be."

"It was childbed fever," James said, "It happened not long after you left."

Celia's lips quivered uncontrollably. She bit down on them hard and pulled her hands out of his grasp, placing them against her stomach as she breathed heavily. Tears spilled one by one from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks and neck. She felt a large hand settle on her shoulder, but she jerked away from the touch. Looking up at Harry, whose hand still hovered in the air, she heaved a sigh before turning on her heel and stalking away.

"Celia!" Harry called in the distance.

She heard him calling, but ignored him.

Around the house and past the stables, Celia walked aimlessly until she came upon a stream. Her body was shaky as she lowered herself down on the bank, settling into the grassy area and looking into the crystal water through her teary vision. The gentle trickling of the water calmed her senses, creating a dreamlike state.

She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting the saltiness left from her tears, and sniffled. Looking down at the surface of the water, she saw her reflection; her hair was tame for the first time since Roanoke, but the rest of her appearance was unsightly. Her face was pink and inflamed from crying. She leaned down and dipped her hands into the stream, cupping water in her hands and bringing them upward, splashing the cool liquid onto her face.

She remained alone at the stream for hours, running over the memories of her sister. It was hard to believe she was gone forever. As the sun sank below the horizon to be replaced by a silver moon, and the gray sky morphed into a deep indigo scattered with stars, Celia found the courage to return to the manor and face the reality.

As she reached the front door, it was pulled open for her by a familiar young woman. Celia nodded to her as thanks and furthered into the house, following the echoes of laughter. She rounded a corner and peered into the parlor to find everyone gathered around the fireplace. Nerissa was toddling around and trying her best to teach her cousin to do the same. Nerissa held onto her cousin's hands, helping her to her feet, but they both fell backward and landed on their bottoms.

Celia giggled softly, but it was apparently loud enough for James and Harry to hear, as well as Nerissa.

"Mama!" Nerissa said excitedly, and began to walk toward her.

"Oh, my darling pearl," Celia said, meeting Nerissa halfway and scooping her up. She kissed her on the cheek and then looked at James, who held his child in his arms. "And who is this?"

"This is little Isabel," James said, "Izzy, this is your Aunt Celia."

Celia walked over to James and sat down beside him. She looked at her niece with wet eyes. "She looks just like her mother." She blinked away her tears and then looked over at Harry, who wore a small smile on his face. "I'm sorry if I worried you, I just needed a moment to take everything in."

"I understand," Harry said, "While you were gone, my dear, James made us a generous offer."

Celia furrowed her brows and looked at her brother-in-law.

"I'd like for you all to live here," James said.

"What?" Celia gaped, "James, we couldn't."

James nodded to the servant who stood at the doorway. She immediately came into the room and ushered the children out, leaving the adults alone. Celia moved to sit next to Harry, and laced their fingers together.

"It's felt empty since Isabel passed. I can't seem to break out of this gloomy state, and little Izzy is a constant reminder of what I've lost. Having you here would help me, and Izzy needs a motherly figure. Please, think about it. You could stay for a year or so, until things get back to normal and you find a place of your own."

"Things will never be back to normal," Celia said gently, "You've lost your wife. Your life has changed forever. But you will find a new normal, and I'm willing to stay and help you find it, if you'll have us."

James nodded and the corners of his lips turned upward. "I've missed you two."