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It did not take long for word to spread of her return and soon, she found that her parents' home was filled with people all come to supposedly wish her well. Though she knew the truth of it, they had all come to get the latest gossip, and several of them were adamant that Lady Amy had to be the brat everyone had spoken of her being.
Matilda went well out of her way to ensure that she refuted these accusations and by the time she had quashed them all and the second round of tea had begun to be passed around, she was more than a little exhausted. There was only so many times she could repeat herself before the entire ordeal became overwhelming.
During a moment when everyone seemed too amused by an exhilarating tale told by her great-uncle who so often liked to hear himself speak, Matilda took the opportunity to slip into the kitchen for a moment to catch her breath. It was practically empty save for her parents’ cook, an elderly woman with bad hearing who had been with them for many years, and she was able to slip past her easily into the pantry to hide.
Closing her eyes and resting her forehead on the back of her hand while she leaned upon the edge of the nearest shelf, she fought the rising ache in her chest that reminded her terribly of those she had left behind.
Though she was utterly surrounded by her entire family, from her parents to her uncles and aunts and even a distant cousin or two, she was absolutely sickened by the absence of those who had come to be just like family to her. At the forefront of her mind, almost constantly, were Watson and Amy and every time she closed her eyes all she could see were their horrified expressions as she prepared to leave them.
“Matilda?” came the shrill voice of her mother from outside the pantry and Matilda’s skin instantly started to crawl. She could hear the rest of her family pleading with her uncle for one more story and knew that he was entirely certain to give them one. “Mattie, are you in here?”
For just a moment, Matilda was returned to her childhood when playtime with the other children of the estate got a little too much and she had to take a few moments to herself to hide in the pantry and steal a cookie or two. Her mother would always come looking for her then, calling her Mattie and taking her into her arms for a quick hug before sending her on her way with enough cookies to give to all her friends.
There was no way her mother was going to come in there now and give her enough cookies to take back to Thistledown Manor with her.It does not matter,she told herself over-firmly,I can never return.It was a fact that hammered at her heart and threatened to shatter it into a million tiny pieces.
“Matilda, there you are,” her mother sighed deeply as she stepped into the doorway with a roll of her eyes that Matilda only just managed to catch as she looked around, “I might have guessed I would find you in here.”
“I…I just needed a minute,” Matilda admitted, stifling a yawn. “Uncle Roger’s stories can get a little out of hand and I think I am still struggling to recover my energy from the journey home.”
Her mother raised one blonde eyebrow that was so much like her own, looking quite concerned.
“You have been home a few days now,” her mother insisted. The businessman’s wife was no fool. She stepped into the pantry making Matilda feel as though she were a little too close for comfort. There was no escape if her mother tried to question her one more time and after having just been holding back tears, Matilda was not sure she could lie again.
Yet instead of questioning her on what had happened at Thistledown Manor, her mother raised her hand and placed her palm against Matilda’s forehead, “You are not coming down with something, are you, sweetheart?”
Matilda opened her mouth to respond but then quickly closed it again, thinking that perhaps it might be best to go along with it. Pretending to stifle a groan, she admitted, “I do have a little of a headache.”
Her mother pressed her hand more firmly against her head and then felt her cheeks too, clearly checking for any signs she was hot or clammy.
“You do not feel warm,” she commented, looking Matilda up and down. Matilda tried her hardest not to put it on too thickly though she did offer a little cough.
“Perhaps you ought to go and have a lie down? I can keep the family entertained until you are feeling better.”
Relief washed over her, and Matilda could not help but throw her arms around her mother, utterly grateful that the woman was never the kind of mother who liked to force everything upon her children. “Thank you.”
For a moment, her mother stood rigid as though she was utterly shocked at the outburst. Then Matilda felt her smiling against her hair, even as she wrapped her arms around her just as she had when she was a child, and cradled her for a moment to offer her motherly comfort.
“A child should never thank her mother for caring for her,” her mother sighed deeply and stroked down her back gently, “It is what we mothers do.”
Finally, her mother released her and leaned sideways around her to uncover something on the shelf. Matilda could not help but laugh when she straightened up with a cookie in her hand. “Here, take this with you, but be careful that your uncle and father do not see it or they will be wanting one before dinner too.”
“Thanks, Mum,” Matilda said, again feeling like the little girl who needed her mother to make everything better. She quickly gave her a peck on the cheek and hurried from the pantry before her mother could change her mind or anyone else could come looking for her.
Sneaking past the entire family during one of Uncle Roger’s stories was not entirely too difficult with everyone so engrossed, and soon, she had quickly closed her bedroom door behind her.
Stepping back into her childhood bedroom, Matilda usually felt as though she had come home, as if she had returned to the place where she was safest in the world. Yet as she stepped into the room with the cookie in her hand, she could not help but feel a distinct lack of that feeling.
Crossing the room, Matilda dropped down onto her bed and grabbed one of the throw pillows to snuggle up to. Taking a nibble from the cookie, she realised that although it tasted just as they always had, sweet and creamy and crumbly just as the cook had always made them, it too did not have the same effect upon her.
Feeling sick to her stomach, Matilda placed what was left of the cookie on the bedside table beside her, and snuggled deeper into the pillow she clutched to her chest. Closing her eyes, she screamed into the pillow, hoping that if she did so long enough, she might eventually begin to feel a little better.
By the time she finished screaming, she was even more exhausted than ever and all she wanted to do was sleep until her headache was gone. Instead, all she could do was weep as sleep evaded her and her mind was once more filled with all that she had lost and all that she had left behind.
The grief she felt was almost as strong as if her most beloved family member had passed away and yet she knew deep down that both Watson and Amy were alive and well, and likely doing much better without her.He needs to marry and give Amy a stepmother,Matilda reminded herself firmly, remembering the conversations that she had shared with the Duke on the matter,he cannot do that with me in the way.
It was a deeply painful thought, knowing that she wanted so badly to return to Thistledown Manor but even more so that she could not, because if she did then she would be ruining the lives of not only herself and Watson but also the beautiful little girl she had come to think of as her own.
She will be better off without me,she continued to tell herself over and over until finally, she drifted into an exhausted doze.
