An Innocent Affair

XV

"We're taught to expect unconditional love from our parents, but I think it is more the gift our children give us. It's they who love us helplessly, no matter what or who we are." Kathryn Harrison, The Kiss

---- 

XV.

Jem had not heard from Cressie the day after her birthday as she had promised. And that had caused him to worry himself sick. What was worse was that he knew it would be foolish and reckless to call if indeed Cressie was in deep trouble with her mother.

He had taken himself on several walks the days after and had found himself on the corner of her street, but he could not bring himself to even walk past her house just in case it caused Cressie more trouble. For the very fact that he had not heard from her, he knew that something was amiss and there was not a thing he could do to help her.

After all, he was the reason.

Jem had promenaded with his sister each day as well to no avail. Cressie was nowhere to be seen.

But despite this, he could not regret sneaking away with Cressie. He could not ever regret that time spent with her. She had been happy, truly happy, and he had seen it in her beautiful brown eyes every minute that they had spent together. To know that he had given her that happiness was a great comfort to him in and amongst the anguish and guilt.

When Jem's mind wanted to frighten him by imagining Cressie with someone older and richer and better than he was, it was a comfort to know that she had known happiness and silliness and freedom, if only briefly, with him.

After four days of hearing nothing, Jem was ready to ask Grace to call on Mrs Martin with some invented reason. Jem imagined that a lady could call upon another to ask advice over lace or hats or something like that.

"You desire me to visit with Mrs Martin and ask about her hat?" Grace stared blankly at her younger brother with a quizzical brow. "Do you really admire it so, Jem?" Grace was seated with her tea tray in the drawing room and had promptly abandoned her sandwiches when Jem had asked the question.

Jem huffed impatiently. Grace did not know of his expedition. Had she known of it beforehand, he would have wagered she would have tried to talk him out of it. Only a fool would risk a lady's reputation. Grace had been amenable to Jem's requests to go walking in the park over the previous days and had accepted an invitation at his insistence for the coming Saturday. She had done everything he'd asked of her despite her own discomfort at being around the gossips who still found her to be an inferior choice for the Duke of Ashwood.

"I'm worried about Cressie," Jem confessed to his sister. "I haven't seen or heard from her in days and I am concerned that her mother is ..." What was he thinking? Did he really imagine that Mrs Martin would chain her daughter to her bed? There had not been any rumours spread about their expedition by some miracle. "... hiding her from me," he concluded.

"Hiding her from you?" repeated Grace, her blue eyes widening slightly. "Oh, my." Her lips pursed. "Your attachment runs deep, doesn't it?" She asked the question as though she hadn't believed it until now. Perhaps she had been humouring him as a young boy with an infatuation.

"You told me that you would do everything in your power to help Cressie and I," he reminded Grace of her promise to him before they had come to London. Jem prayed that Grace did not interpret his reminder as guilt. He hadn't meant it as such, and he would be eternally grateful for all she and his brother-in-law had done for him.

Jem just needed to know that Cressie was alright!

"Have you done something very terrible so as to offend Mrs Martin?" Grace queried softly.