Free The Good Sister: Part Two by London Saint James Page B

door. I froze for a moment, a bit frightened, thinking it may be prudent to get Ashton, but then I argued with myself and shoved the fear aside. 
    I walked forward, toward my fear instead away from it. I reached out and touched the cool brass knob. 
    Clank…
    I turned the knob. The noise did not subside. When the door was fully open, I saw numerous items covered in white sheets. This really wasn’t a bedroom, but more like a storage room. To my right, a windowpane was broken. Wind rattled through the room. This explained the movement I saw from beneath the door. The breeze caused the curtains to blow in and out, and the sheets that covered all of the bigger items tussled too. 
    Clank…  
    I turned toward the sound to discover an armoire half uncovered. One of the armoire doors swung open. A gust of wind shot through the broken window, causing the door to swing against the back of a tall covered item. The door, hitting whatever was covered beneath that sheet, was making the noise.
    I walked over to the armoire and pulled down the sheet. Dust stirred. I sneezed. This room hadn’t been tended to in a while. I traced the carvings on the exquisite piece of furniture before opening both doors. Inside was clothing, men’s clothing. On the bottom of the armoire sat a box.  I bent down and pulled out the carved box. It looked to be carved from oak, and it was the size of a shoebox.
    On the top of the box was the same crest Ashton wore as a ring, the family crest. I flipped the gold latch and lifted the lid. Inside were letters, all addressed to Ashton. I bit my lip, considering…
    I picked up the top letter. It was old; however, it kept the light scent of jasmine. I unfolded the paper.
    Ashton, why have you stopped writing me? My heart aches for you. Your brother told me you are leaving soon, going back to school, but I must meet you again. All I can think upon is our kiss. I know you are meant for great things, while I am meant for a different life, but I am desperately in love with you. You know this, Ashton. I tell you nothing you do not already know.  I also know we can never love each other freely, in the open, but I want to come to you, just once. I want to give my body, my heart, and my soul to you. Meet me in the stables or by our tree. You pick our meeting place and the time. Please Ashton, grant me my wish.
    With all love, Jacqueline 
    I sat there, on the floor, reading letter after letter. Jacqueline poured her heart and soul out to Ashton. They were heart wrenching, filled with such pain, such longing. I recognized some of myself caught inside of Jacqueline’s correspondence. Jacqueline knew of desperate love; she had not been lying to me when she said she knew of it. 
    I came to the last letter…
    I must see you. I am with child. Meet me at the stables, midnight tomorrow.
    Jacqueline.
    My hands started shaking. My eyes welled over with tears. I read and reread those four words over and over … I am with child.
    I placed all the letters into the box except one, the one with the declaration of Jacqueline’s pregnancy. I placed it into the envelope, stood up on shaking legs, and somehow found the strength to exit the room.
    I passed Remington on the stairs, and stopped.
    “Remington, the room at the end of the corridor on the third floor needs some attention. The windowpane is broken. Will you see that it gets fixed?”
    “Yes, of course, my lady,” he replied with a bow.
    I made my way to Ashton’s study. I never knocked, just walked in; letter in hand, tears streaking down my cheeks. Ashton looked up from his desk with a smile, then with concern once he saw my condition.
    “My dove, what is wrong?” he asked, standing to his feet, his chair making the protest as the legs skidded back from the desk. “Has someone done something to upset you?”
    I marched forward, coming to the edge of his desk, wiping the tears, sniffling, trying to gain control as I set the letter down in front of him.
    “I wish