Part 2: MacIntosh Manor

William and I settle into the house as best we can. It is very different from what we were accustomed to.

I walk around the bedroom, opening the drawers on the dresser and peeking in, as though I expect some special gift to be hidden in their depths. My bedroom has a writing desk with paper, quill and ink stocked for me if I decided I needed it. There are a few books there also, for my education and entertainment, I imagine. I run my hand over the top of it, relishing the smoothness of it as I inhale the faint smell of wood stain.

 

I sit on the bed. Soft, comfortable. It cushions me as I fall back into its softness, marvelling that it is not hard and lumpy as the one I previously shared with William. I wonder how well I would sleep without him being with me. As far back as I can remember, this would be our first time apart.

There is a knock on the door. Momma peeks in from behind it, looking bright-eyed and excited.

“Is everything to your liking?”

“Yes. The room is nice – I like the desk”.

“George made it. He said a young man needs his education and books lead the way to sound judgement. He sent me to inquire after your comfort”.

“Please express my thanks to him, Momma. Especially regarding the accommodation. I am truly grateful”.

She sits on the bed beside me, taking my hand into hers.

“I know this is a difficult for you, leaving the place where we created so many memories. This is a chance for us to better ourselves. It will be good for us, you’ll see”, she quickly adds, walking towards the window.

She stands there, looking down into the garden. A fleeting look of panic crosses her face.

I wonder if I imagined it.

 

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