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A rattling sob escaped Eleanor’s lips and she leaned heavily upon Henry. “My sister did not survive… and the baby did not, either.” She collapsed into a fit of tears. They fell faster than she could wipe them away. Henry continued murmuring gently in her ear and he patted her shoulders, snuggling her into him.
Eleanor took a deep breath and said, “We don’t talk about Caroline because of what happened next.”
“What happened next?” Henry echoed, clearly flabbergasted. “There’s more?”
Eleanor nodded pitifully. “When Caroline and the baby both perished, my father… he… he didn’t handle it all very well. Caroline was his favorite child and… he couldn’t live with the pain of losing her. Not three months after Caroline passed, my father died, too. The physician said my father died of a broken heart.” Eleanor wiped furiously at her tears.
Even though she’d been a child at the time, she recalled the way her father had behaved after Caroline died. He stopped eating meals regularly and he would wander listlessly around Barrow Hall at all times of the night. He no longer slept, and he openly grieved for his lost daughter. Eleanor never once doubted the doctor was correct in his diagnosis. Her father had perished because his heart was broken.
“Eleanor,” Henry spoke haltingly, “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing you can say. It all happened so long ago. There’s nothing to be done about it all now,” Eleanor replied.
“Yes, but I wish I had known. I wish I could do something to make things better,” Henry whispered.
Eleanor shook her head dejectedly. “There’s nothing you can do, except being lenient with me. I will make good on my promise, Henry. I’m just…scared.” She leaned even further into him then and he wrapped both arms around her. They stayed in this pose for a few moments. Eleanor cried and Henry stroked her hair.
Once the tears subsided, Eleanor glanced up at Henry. “I wish you would have told me all this before. I swear I wouldn’t have been so cavalier about the subject. I would have been more sensitive.”
Eleanor nodded. “That’s all in the past now, Henry.” She unfolded herself from his arms and looked at him carefully. “I hope you understand my reluctance now and you know that my refusal of your advances has very little to do with you.”
Henry bit his lower lip, and Eleanor knew he wanted to say something, but he thought better of it and was doing his best to keep it locked up. She appreciated that. “Now,” she said, noticing that even though he was no longer holding her, they were still sitting very close together. She glanced down at her side.
“Where’s Sir Whiskers?” Eleanor asked, disregarding what she had been about to say before. She wriggled away from Henry and stood. He also rose and turned as if to check whether they had been sitting on the cat.
“He’s gone,” Henry said, looking from his left to his right.
Lady Lovely Paws stood then, and she leaped from the carriage.
“Lady Lovely Paws, no!” Eleanor cried. She held out her hands as if she could stop the feline from jumping to the ground.
I can’t lose them both before I have the chance to say goodbye.
Eleanor tried to climb down and out of the wagon quickly, but her skirts made the task a little challenging. Henry anticipated her needs, and he jumped from the wagon and hustled to help her down.
“Sir Whiskers!” Eleanor called out her pet’s name. “Where are you?” She glanced all about the area.
“I don’t see him anywhere,” Henry replied. He began pacing all around the wagon, stooping to check underneath the tires, and then bouncing back up to peek into the wagon bed.
“He can’t have gone far,” Eleanor returned, taking a step toward the side of the road. She swept aside some of the tall grass that grew there and bent to look through the weeds. “Sir Whiskers! Lady Lovely Paws! Come out now, please.”
“Over there,” Henry shouted, pointing up the road. Eleanor followed his motions just in time to see Lady Lovely Paws as she headed toward the clump of birch trees.
Henry took off at a run, and Eleanor hitched up her skirt and petticoat. She began walking at a brisk pace, trying to catch up to him and the cats.
Eleanor panted heavily, as she slowed her pace. Lady Lovely Paws was circling around one of the tree trunks and she was meowing miserably. “What is it, Lady? Where’s Sir Whiskers?”
Henry had made it to the trees before Eleanor and he was making a quick circuit of the area, trying to locate Sir Whiskers.
Lady Lovely Paws hissed when Henry came near, and he took a cautious step back. “Don’t hiss at Henry,” Eleanor scolded the cat. “Where’s Sir Whiskers? Where did he go?”
Eleanor often spoke to her cats, and while they never answered her, of course, she always felt they understood what she wanted. In this case, Lady Lovely Paws arched her back and went to the base of a tree. Eleanor followed the feline and looked up to see Sir Whiskers sitting on a tree branch.
“Sir Whiskers, you come down from there this instant,” Eleanor ordered, making sure her tone was firm.
“Did you find the cat?” Henry asked, coming around the side of the tree and following Eleanor’s gaze upward. She pointed to Sir Whiskers.
“He’s up there.”
