Mrs. Watson laughed. “I have never quite understood why you two are at odds with one another. You used to be childhood friends.”
“People grow up and change,” Mattie remarked. “But I should go see to Franny.”
“You can run, but you can’t hide from this conversation,” Mrs. Watson joked. “The cottage is not that big.”
Mattie placed a hand on the housekeeper’s sleeve. “I promise we will talk later,” she assured her. “I am hoping to coax Franny out of her bedchamber and bring her to the kitchenfor some food.”
“I wish you luck.”
Turning on her heel, Mattie headed up the stairs and down the corridor that led to Franny’s bedchamber.
She came to a stop in front of the door and knocked.
No response.
The next time, she knocked and opened the door. “Franny?”
As she stepped into the room, she saw her cousin was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“How are you faring today?” Mattie asked, taking a seat beside her on the bed.
Franny turned her head, her eyes filled with sadness. “I’m not quite sure how to feel,” she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion.
Mattie reached for her hand. “There is no right way to feel.”
Tears welled up in Franny’s eyes as she confessed, “I am angry, and sad, and lonely…” Her voice trailed off, a sense of despair creeping into her tone. “Will it ever get any easier?”
“I wish I could tell you that it does, but I won’t lie to you,” Mattie replied. “You have to go through the hard part before you can come out on the other side.”
“I’m not sure if I can,” Franny said weakly.
Mattie squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You are a Bawden. I know you are capable of doing things that are unbelievably hard.”
A tear escaped Franny’s eye and rolled down her cheek. “I am tired of crying, but I don’t know what else to do.”
“To begin with, you should eat, at least enough to keep your strength up,” Mattie encouraged.
“I’m not hungry.”
Mattie nodded. “I understand, but you can’t lose too much weight or else you won’t fit into the mourning gowns that we ordered,” she said.
Franny turned her head to look back up at the ceiling. “Sometimes, I wish that I would wake up from this terrible nightmare and my life would be the same as it was before. My parents would be alive and we would be back at our country estate.”
The plea in Franny’s voice made Mattie’s eyes fill with tears, knowing she had felt the same way when her mother had died. The fear of living without her mother was crippling, but she had waded through the grief. Now she just had to help Franny do the same.
“I may have only lost my mother, but I understand what you are going through,” Mattie said. “But lying in bed is not going to help. You need to learn to live without your parents.”
Franny sighed deeply. “I am tired of looking at these four papered walls,” she admitted, her voice weary.
Mattie released her hand and stood up. “Then let us go to the kitchen and get you something to eat.”
As if on cue, Franny’s stomach growled, and she gave her a shy smile. “Perhaps I am hungrier than I realized.”
“If you are not opposed, we could go on a walk after you eat,” Mattie suggested, trying to sound encouraging.
Franny sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said, rising. “I am not sure if I am ready to go outside and encounter other people just yet.”
Mattie laughed. “You won’t have to worry about that. We live by the chapel, and only members of the parish come by to visit my father. It would be entirely different if we lived in the village.”
