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"Nadia, I have always thought about your feelings," Lord Havenshire croaked, "from the moment I watched you born; watched you grow. I would change our world if I could, but that's too much effort for one dying, old man," he continued, breathlessly; he nearly collapsed half-way up the stairs, falling to one knee with a groan. Nadia gasped, rushing spiritedly down the stairs to her father's side, slinging his arm over her shoulder and lifting him.
"Father, please, be careful, don't hurt yourself," she whispered, hefting him up as best she could. "You need to rest. We'll... we'll get past this," she murmured, her own hope about her father's condition beginning to fade away as tears stained red rivulets along her cheeks.
"Nadia, I've only ever wanted to help you, my daughter," Lord Havenshire said, tone full of regret.
"I know father, I know," she assured him tearfully.
"Lord... Lord Beckham, he seems a good man, and more than anything, he's... he's the sort of man who will indulge you, indulge your thoughts, and your fantasies, bless him," her father laughed, as they scaled another step together.
"H... how do you mean?" Nadia questioned, confused, hoisting her father up another stair as a flash of lightning streaked across their faces.
"Something Lady Henrietta said caught my ear, and it's the only reason I agreed to see this man, to judge him, Nadia," Lord Havenshire said, his voice having fallen to a wobbly whisper. "She said... she said she saw him make you laugh. Nadia, my love, I've not seen you laugh from the joke or foible of a man since you were so young that you laughed at everything," he confided in her. "If he had made you laugh... something, in your hearts, I knew... I knew he would... he would be right, for..." he had begun to give in to his fatigue, his words growing delirious. "He... he believes you, in your... your words, about, about women, but..."
"Father, please, you're tired, save your strength," Nadia whispered. One step left, and her knees nearly buckled as she lifted her father, whose legs had given in and whose body had become a heavy, limp mass of disease-ravaged flesh. Ms. Mulwray emerged from the hall lead to the master bedroom, her face full of concern.
"M'lord?" she asked frightfully, rushing to aid Nadia by slinging her master's other arm across her shoulders.
"He'll be fine, Ms. Mulwray, he's simply exhausted," Nadia whispered.
"I warned him, I told him Egan and I and Lady Henrietta could speak with this suitor and report to him, he needn't trouble himself," Ms. Mulwray hissed. "I warned him..."
"He wanted to help me, in his own way," Nadia sighed, her tears slowing. They hobbled together with her drowsy father through the corridor to the darkened room, lightning flashing again as rain pattered hard against the roof, pouring down and filling all the crevices and cracks, with droplets coalescing into little running rivers of rainwater. They crept through the darkness, gently laying the aging man out onto the bed, carefully covering his body with a blanket, lighting a small candle to provide some source of light in utter darkness.
"He cares so much for you, for us - for the estate, m'lady," Ms. Mulwray said in her stern manner. "He's done more than you can know. Don't let him suffer with—"
"It's quite alright, Ms. Mulwray," her father spoke up, startling the two women. "My daughter is just... willful, is she not?" he smiled drowsily, barely able to open his eyes. He took Nadia's hand; she squeezed his.
"She's very much that," Ms. Mulwray said, her eyes still searing as she watched the two of them. "Do you need anything, m'lord?"
"No, Ms. Mulwray, thank you, just leave my daughter and I for a moment," he implored. With venom in her glare she briefly and sternly regarded Nadia before spinning wordlessly and leaving the bedroom.
"Sometimes I fear Ms. Mulwray has it in for me," Nadia joked.
"Oh, come now, you know she hasn't, she's simply protective of me, the old woman," Lord Havenshire laughed. "Very protective of the estate. She doesn't like willful women. Thinks they ought to be in their proper place. Not the sort of thing you'd ever agree with," he laughed a croaking, hoarse and painful laugh.
"Certainly not, no," Nadia smiled.
"I... I only ever wanted to help you, Nadia, and I hope you realize that," the crestfallen lord confided. "I know how you feel, about men, about life here, but... I really think Lord Beckham is different from the others. I think you might... actually come to love him." Her heart clashed with itself; she wanted to listen to her father, but the subject of that man burned with so much confusion inside of her.
"What... did he say? About me, about women?" she couldn't stave off that curiosity any longer, and it nagged at her. He had taken advantage of this system that favored him - what could he possibly know about the struggles of woman simply seeking to be equal?
"He'll be able to tell you himself, what he thinks of women, next week," Lord Havenshire said. "I've accepted, on your behalf, an invitation to his manor for a nice dinner, between just the two of you."
"You what?" Nadia asked incredulously, her hesitation boiling over in to mild anger. "Father, I never agreed to such a thing. He may be what you say he is, even, but I don't..."
"Just give him a chance, won't you? You might be surprised. He's not the arrogant, greedy animal you might think he is," Lord Havenshire implored.
"Father, I... I want my freedom. Any man, in this system, is going to want to control me - don't you understand that? No man, no matter how good his heart, is going to work against the way this society favors him," Nadia insisted.
"You take such a dim view of the world, for so beautiful and capable a woman, Nadia," Lord Havenshire said. "Listen to him... you might be surprised."
She doubted she would.
"For your sake, father," she grudgingly admitted. "For your sake."
CHAPTER TEN
Her father had begged her to listen; to keep her mind open. After another week of thought and struggle, Nadia had already made up her mind.
