Free Journey's End (Marlbrook) by Bernadette Carroll

was clear , as he shared his insights with Laura.
     
    #
     
    Two weeks to the day after Laura’s arrival at Marlbrook, the special messenger transferred Thomas’ letter into her hands.  The foresight behind the delivery confirmed to Laura yet another of Thomas’ excellent qualities.  Not under any circumstances did Laura want to attract her Ladyship’s attention , as martyrdom held no allure.  Feet practically flew over stairs, the sturdy door to her chamber locked behind her in a trice.
    The wax seal on the letter cracked without resistance .  Laura’s hands trembled , the shaking delaying the unveiling.  Half anticipating the worst , and half just anticipating, Laura began to read the words that would either condemn her or provide her with hope. 
    Her eyes skimmed the white pages.  Thomas offered concern , along with a polite enquiry , as to her state of health, and generally anyone could have examined the contents without taking offence.  However, one sentence stood out.  Laura read and reread her promise of redemption.
     
    “- My duty dictates , as does my conscience , that I write to assure you, ma’am, that you remain held in the highest of esteem.”
     
    Laura’s immediate compulsion was to share her elation, her pen at the ready to translate her thoughts.
     
    “That I am not to be spurned for my wantonness , or ridiculed for the lack of it, but remain held in high regard is proof enough that there is justice in this world.”
     
    The penmanship of her declaration disarmed Laura’s most grievous torment.  A swell of affection rose for Thomas, as she placed his phrases, with reverence, within the secure confines of her journal.  Deep inside, below surface tension and all the disturbances that cloud issues, Laura had always known his answer.  They were adults, and their union had been one that would have challenged even the most devout.  The stain of the sin endured, but the prospect of deliverance prevailed.
    Sunshine drenched Laura’s writing desk , bathing her in its brilliance as though it too joined her in celebration.  Her pen flew across the pages, the sentences flowing with the freedom that comes when one is corresponding with a light heart.
    The expressions, while not elaborate or complicated views, imparted her account of the situation. However , more importantly , they extended an offer of atonement, indicating possible future discourse.
    Her letter concluded with :
     
    “I am heartened by your correspondence and pray that time will grant me a reprieve and allow my thoughts to settle , thus enabling me to face you again without the hindrance of appearing needy.”
     
    Thomas would understand her subtle words and know that if he were patient , her door would again be open to him.
     

 
     
     
     
    C HAPTER FOURTEEN – The Past
     
    Weeks passed with a swiftness that confounded Laura, and the sense of longing that she had first experienced had abated to a manageable degree.  Seldom did anyone question her regarding her ordeal, the lack of interest a reflection of just how little she counted in the overall scheme of things.
    Seated in the morning room , Lady Catherine ’s regular visitors supped their tea , blissfully unaware of just how close they skirted the edges of Lady Catherine ’s ill humour.
    “Cynthia, your companion appears to be unwell. Perhaps we should send her home without further ado,” Lady Catherine stated, knowing full well that the very thought of being banished from their company would send Ruth into a frenzy.
    Lady Cynthia, a rather skittish woman , who could best be described as round in appearance, had long been a confirmed friend of Lady Catherine .  The women had nothing in common, but nevertheless they seemed to fill a void in each other’s lives.  Lady Cynthia's companion, Ruth, was a poor relation who enjoyed a privileged status in the home of her second cousin once removed.
    “Oh my , ” Ruth sig h ed. “Lady Catherine , I beg of you do