DELLA

❀ Chapter 21

ALAINA'S quiet piano notes floated throughout the Drawing Room, as the rest of the girls and I were engaged in embroidery.

I must say, it was a beautiful way to divert my mind from Christopher. The way I concentrated to perfect each stitch, left no room for the thought of him to float into my mind.

About two weeks has passed since the last time I saw Christopher. My feelings have taken a tiresome journey over the course of those several days. I wanted to fight for him, and our love. He must remember it somehow! If a forceful approach was needed, I was willing. Then I became angry.

I was boiling. How could he assure me of his safety so confidently, and then fall off of his horse. How careless! I had crumbled up one of my love letters - particularly one about him - and pelted it against the wall. Then a spout of melancholy overtook me, and I weeped incessantly by the window.

I saw the world before me through heavy, streaked tears. My appetite had also vanished. Kitty would bring me each meal with hope that I would eat more than one morsel of food. But I often gave her my meals for her to eat.

I felt drunk as a wheelbarrow with all the drastic change of emotion. However, it has been a bit easier to keep them at bay. Especially if I threw myself into embroidery. I still love Christopher very much, but there was nothing I could do at this moment. A forceful and persistent approach would only scare him away.

Time is the only solution, and I must not torture myself by keeping him on my mind. Remembering the whisper of a kiss that still lingered on my lips. The way the sun made his green specks glisten. The way he would give his attention to the most minuscule things I did.

I had to bury it all.

The atmosphere amongst the family was quite difficult to bear. Frequent mentions of Christopher would feel like a slash to my heart. He remembered them, therefore everything was peachy keen in their eyes. Although, Alaina never took much part in it. She and Kitty were the only people I confided in.

I wish I could confide in Papa. I have composed a series of letters, but I just couldn't box my feelings into words. Tear drops would also drip onto the paper, smearing the black ink. I wish I had his presence, so I could see his facial expressions that seem to melt away my anxiety. So he could hug me, and call me his strong girl.

"I cannot help to think that it is better this way," Lady Stratford spoke up. I brought my eyes up to hers, and Alaina's piano playing had halted.

"I-I beg your pardon, my lady?" I inquired softly.

"Whatever do you mean, Mamma?" Even Astrid was curious.

"I mean the girl falls in love with someone you simply can never marry, and then the poor man falls off his horse and cannot remember your face," She replied with a low giggle to her tone.

"Mamma!" Alaina gaped, while Abigail laid a hand over her mouth - indiscreetly concealing a smile.

"Hm. Fate is a silly thing indeed," Astrid grinned as she continued her stitching.

I blinked several times, fighting my stinging tears like a war I was determined to win. My chest heaved as I gave Lady Stratford a hard stare. I wondered how to react, as anger continued to pulse through my veins. The room suddenly grew unbearably hot.

I gently set my things down beside me, and stood up, "Excuse me."

And with that, I left the room promptly. To see me upset and distraught would only be their victory. Just outside the drawing room out of their sights, I exhaled deeply. I pressed my back against the wall, and attempted to calm myself down with a few more deep breaths.

When I walked up the staircase, I saw Uncle George from walk down the hallway.

"I was just coming to find you my dear," He looked up with his kind smile, "Why don't you come have a stroll with me in the garden."

I lingered on the stairs for a few moments at his offer. I wished to lay on my bed and drift off into a light slumber, but Uncle George was so sweet with his invitation.

I returned his smile and walked back down the stairs, "Of course Uncle."

*

The fresh air that whistled in the air was sweet. I had not realized how much time had lapsed since I've been outside. My arm was looped around Uncle George's as we ambled through the peaceful garden grounds. The hedges of vibrant greenery had been freshly trimmed.

I had spent hours watching the workers snip away at them from the windows in the library.

"The girls used to play hide and seek all through here," Uncle George gestured to green maze we ambled through.

"I can only imagine the scoldings they received from Lady Stratford," I smiled.

"With a certainty," He chuckled.

The sun hung high on it's clear blue canvas, casting it's warm light through my straw bonnet. I missed being outside.

"How are you doing, my dear?" Uncle George pat his callused hand atop of my mine. A period of silence followed his sincere question. I was trying to put my words together with strategy, to not give too much away. I did not wish to force my mind to go back to such a darkened place.

Not after the immense effort I exhorted.

"Be truthful," He looked at me expectantly.

"Well . . ." I left the word dangling in the air, still unsure how to answer.

"Very well then," He quipped lightly, "I shall speak first. I want to sincerely apologize for every trial you have had to withstand during your stay here. The ladies of Moonriver are no easy task."

I giggled lightly, "I must agree whole-heartedly."

"And your graceful eloquence has certainly not gone unnoticed. My daughters strive for such a valuable quality," Uncle George continued to soothe my wounded heart with his kind words.

We stopped in an opened area, where a tainted white statute stood in the middle. It was surrounded by smaller green hedges, and a variety of flowers. It was truly serene.

"Thank you so much Uncle," I whispered, laying a clasped hand over of his. Tears threatened to stream down my cheeks at that moment. I had not realized how much I needed to hear something kind. I tried so hard to block the negative thoughts that fleeted my mind constantly.

"I am confident . . ." He said as he gently unwrapped my arm from his, firmly grounding his cane into grass. He then slowly bent down and picked a flower.

"That whatever you choose to do will be a wise decision," He handed me the vibrant white flower. I took it in my hand and twirled it between my fingers. I concentrated on the freeness of the petals as they danced effortlessly.

Then I looked up at Uncle George with a meaningful smile. Because in that moment, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.

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A/N - Votes/ Comments are much appreciated x

hope you enjoyed x

~ KVH