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Chapter 13
Staring at the stable from her window had turned into a vice for Matilda when it once brought her hope. There, off in the distance where the horses lived with a man who lived life according to his own rules, was a possible fairy tale ending. She was beginning to think that such a thing had been best left for the inked page. Maybe books didn’t have all the answers. Maybe they were just written to placate those who suffered from boredom. It wasn’t a notion that Matilda wanted to accept, but one which she could not avoid. Maybe it was really time to grow up and listen to her mother.
The question that continued to ask itself in her head was where did she go wrong with Aaron? That was what bothered her most. Because she had not been rude. She had not been selfish. She listened to him, opened up to him, showed him a side of herself that no one had ever seen before. And then there was the other element.
They had kissed. They had explored each other’s bodies and been intimate in ways that would never let her forget Aaron. Had she not been good enough in that area?
It was like some sort of trick. Matilda believed one thing, assuming that Aaron enjoyed their time together. It was to her knowledge that the time they spent with one another had meant something to him. But maybe it didn’t. That mutual misunderstanding was what hurt the most. It brought her down to a level of a fool. How could she be so naïve? How could she think that everything would continue without a flaw? Perhaps the books had led her astray. Maybe her expectations towards the world were all wrong, engendered by clever writers who wanted to see things one way, the wrong way.
A week had passed since she and Aaron had spoken at the stables. And it was a long week. She left her window as the door opened. In came Matilda’s mother with a scowl on her face.
“You will not get anywhere in life staring out that window all day. Why is it that everytime I come in here, you are gazing out into the abyss?”
Matilda rolled her eyes and sat down on the edge of her bed. She flattened out her plain dress after doing so. “I would not necessarily call our property the abyss. I am usually punished, so staring out the window has become somewhat of a hobby for me, I presume.”
Her mother had picked up on the sarcasm with her eyes. Matilda did not know if her mother had been seconds away from yelling at her or throwing something at her in her bated silence. “Charles’ aunt Addison will be coming with his family for dinner tonight. I would much appreciate it if you would not wear that dress and put on a welcoming face. The one you have been wearing as of late has been beyond miserable. I have seen maids that are happier than you.”
“Why must I put on a show? I am not happy. Therefore, I will not pretend to be happy. Where does one draw the line in that charade? Shall I wear a sick face to keep our doctors busy next?”
Her mother chose to ignore her quip, heading towards the door before saying, “You can speak in sarcasm as much as you like, but it will not change any outcomes. Pick a nice dress.”
The door shut, and Matilda laid down on her bed, not carrying about Addison and not caring about her stupid dress. She had only seen Addison on rare occasions and did not care much for the woman. She had not known her and could not understand why her mother was making a big fuss. It was not as though the woman had an impact on Charles’ views towards Matilda or anything of that nature. She was irrelevant. All Matilda could think about was Aaron.
She left the bed and returned to the stables. For the first time, she could see Aaron. He was moving a pile of hay to a new location. She wondered if he was thinking of her. What was on his mind? What did he have planned for his elusive future? He was so close, yet so far away.
Matilda quickly turned her back, realizing that her desire could not turn into an obsession. She would need to let go, and as much as it pained her, her mother was right. Staring out the window would get her nowhere. Instead, she brought herself to her closet and looked over her dresses. After a moments glance, she shut the door and kept on the one that she was wearing. There was no one to impress or look pretty for at dinner. Her plain dress would suffice.
***
Later that night, at dinner, the staff all wore their best uniforms in serving the family dinner. Light music emitted from the musicians in the background. All of the lights in the chandelier were turned on, and the spread of food on the table wafted an aroma of meats and vegetables that could make a dead man hungry.
But it was Addison who stood out most. Matilda had forgotten just how much she dislikedevery little thing about her aside from the way she did her hair. Somehow her long, reddish strands were braided in such a way that it looked like art.
It was Addison’s cold and vague way of speaking that turned Matilda off. She had an elegance about her, but that elegance was draped in pride. It was almost as if she spoke so vague because she did not think the people around her were clever enough to understand the contents of her brain.
“Charles has such an outgoing way about him,” Catherine said at the dinner table as Addison sipped from her wine glass. “If only we could all borrow some of his charisma.”
Matilda did everything in her power to not shake her head in annoyance.
“My nephew is unlike anyone else. Any woman would be lucky to have him.” Her eyes slowly travelled to Matilda, and when they met hers, she looked down at her potatoes. The thought had crossed her mind that maybe her mother had slipped Matilda’s disdain towards Charles into the ears of Addison. But that would make the family look bad, so perhaps not. At the same time, the anger that her mother was holding onto could have been capable of anything. Matilda did not put it past her.
As the conversations continued and everyone put on their best face for Addison, Matilda gave a few glances to Charles, who laughed and conversed among everyone.
Matilda had hoped that Aaron’s rejection would have made Charles more appealing. One man’s errors could always make another man look good. But that was not the case. Charles was attractive, yes, but not in the way that Aaron was. She did not want to kiss Charles. She did not want to spend time with him. The level of desire was simply non-existent compared to the levels towards Aaron.
Studying his features, his smile, and just the way he carried himself in conversation, Matilda really tried to find something, anything about Charles she could cling onto and turn into more for a future together. But there was nothing. She looked at him the same way as Ann, just friends. It made her want to retreat from the table. Her future made her tremendously sad. There was nothing to look forward to. It was almost as though the best had already happened.
The two kisses with Aaron, the night they shared as Ann was fast asleep, those were moments that Matilda wanted to fill her future with. Those were things that she looked forward to more than anything else. Aaron’s lips could make it as though nothing else mattered. Kissing Charles, that was a chore, one that she never wanted to have to do. Perhaps there was a way that she could be in a marriage to him without anything physical. Matilda knew that a thought like that was as foolish as thinking she could have a life with Aaron.
Matilda had waited until enough time had passed and enough food had left her plate to take her leave. Her mother had given her a glance acknowledging her getting up from the table but quickly went back to her socializing. That was the thing about her mother, she was never one to make a scene, but Matilda would probably face her scorn for leaving dinner prematurely at a later time.
Matilda walked her home’s hallways until she reached the spiral staircase. She ascended the stairs, ignoring the many paintings of her family that lined the walls. They had been in the same position her entire life, and the more her age grew in numbers, the more the paintings lost their meaning. Because her mother was not the woman smiling in any of them. Or at least, she was not that woman to Matilda. To Matilda, she was almost like a feminine commander, one who expected perfection from her daughter in a non-existent war. Maybe it was a war that existed only in Catherine’s mind. But that was none of Matilda’s business.
When she entered her room, she plopped down on her bed, leaving her legs dangling over the side. They swung out of frustration. She did not want to be in her room, nor did she want to be at that fraudulent dinner. It would take her a day or so to forget the condescending mug that sat above Addison’s neck. But if she did not want to be neither here nor there, where did she want to be? That was the problem. She did not know. Without Aaron, without a future with him, she did not know where she belonged. Nothing made sense.
And then, right to her left, next to her vanity, was the window. Not too far away, Matilda knew that Aaron was most likely finishing up his day’s work. She told herself that she would not do it. She would not go to the window and try to see him. If Matilda needed to break one habit, it was the one at the window. She needed to be able to stay in her room without temptation. She needed to somehow forget and move on from Aaron.
Matildasat up on her bed. Her legs ceased to swing as she turned her head to her empty bookcase. Once again, she was angered by it. Shewas reminded that her mother berated her for staring out the window while stripping her of her only entertainment. Although she never wanted to operate under spite, it made walking to the window to look for Aaron all the more tempting.
What would she even do if she saw Aaron? Stare until her eyes hurt. No, that wouldn’t make sense. The only sensible thing would be to see him face to face; ask him just why he had suddenly gone cold towards her. That was when she knew that going to the window was not something she needed to do.
Matilda needed to confront Aaron.
