Clandestine: A Story of Three Sisters

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve- Misery

The next morning, Jed woke alone in bed. He bathed and dressed and made his way downstairs to find Charlotte sitting at the parlor window, watching as the rain plundered on.

"Breakfast, sir?" The servant girl asked him. Jed turned to look at Charlotte, who still wouldn't acknowledge his presence, and the girl continued, "The missus has already eaten."

"Yes, I'll have something. And bring some tea for... Charlotte." He couldn't bring himself to call her his missus just yet.

Jed sat at the table and the servant girl returned quickly, holding many things in her hands. She set down a plate of fried eggs and bacon in front of him, then one by one set down a smaller plate stacked with toast, a small platter with different sections of it holding different kinds of jams, a plate of butter, a basket of fruit, and a kettle of tea with two teacups. As Jed buttered his toast, she filled the two cups, taking one to Charlotte and then leaving the room. Charlotte didn't move at all or make any acknowledgements. She just kept staring out the window.

Jed was hoping she would talk to him, say anything, but she was motionless. Finally, he said, "I know you said the word sorry does nothing, and yes maybe physically it does not, but I think it does something. It just lets someone know they aren't alone, and they have people to count on."

No reaction from Charlotte.

"I know this past week and a half have been difficult, but at least Abigail was avenged," Charlotte seemed to wince, but when she didn't do anything else, Jed told himself he'd imagined it and went back to talking. "She can rest in peace. I'm certainly glad of that, aren't you? I'm glad she can rest in peace in the afterlife, and I'm glad I could've helped in that. She deserves that." He said this last part quietly, thinking of his sweet Abby. She deserved a lot better than what had been done to her.

"What did you say?" Charlotte finally spoke, turning to look at him at last.

"I said Abigail deserves to rest in peace," Jed replied. "She seemed kind, and--"

"No, before that." Her voice seemed stern. "You helped in giving her peace. How?"

"Well, I thought you knew. In a way, I suppose I led the sheriff into investigating Mr. Atticus--"

"What do you mean, led?" She definitely seemed stern now. Angry, even.

"When he first told your father and I about Abigail being murdered rather than hanging herself, he asked if your father knew anyone who could do such a thing. He said he didn't, but I had had several encounters with Mr. Atticus where he would speak rather obsessively about Abigail, so I mentioned this to Pimberly--"

"You told Pimberly it was Will?" She asked. Her tone was incredulous. "You think Will was obsessed with Abby?"

"Well, yes, the way he spoke--"

"He spoke about Abby?" Charlotte was demanding answers now. "He would specifically say her name and talk about being in love with her, to the point where you thought he was obsessed?"

"I don't remember if he said her name, but--"

"So what made you think it was Abby?" Charlotte's eyes were livid. "What justification did you have to accuse Will of anything?"

"I mean," Jed spoke slowly, a little frightened by her. "It's done, it's all in the--"

"Don't," Charlotte said. She shook her head, her eyes still scary to look into, and turned away back to the window. She resumed her earlier position, but her breathing seemed heavier now, like an angry dragon taking deep breaths before blowing out fire.