Love Comes in Three

Chapter Seventy-Three "Whispers of Egypt"

            Freddie and Patience took the children for a carriage ride through the countryside one last time before our visitors were due to arrive. I stayed behind, solitude suited me better as of late, especially with Leah keeping to her room. I took advantage of the quiet and roamed the hallways, looking at the familiar pictures. I lingered at the portrait of our parents, it was done sometime after they were married, but not long after. They looked very happy and definitely in love. I had some vague memories of Mother telling me about their courtship when I was a little girl. I think it was after a party and she was helping me get ready for bed, brushing out my hair and just talking . . . no, I remember now, it was after Freddie's wedding. Our talks were light and fleeting it seemed. There were never enough. How I wished I could confide in her now, seek solace in her arms whenever my heart threatened to break again.

            I closed my eyes and thought of my parents. For the briefest moment I smelled her perfume, or the memory of her perfume, and it calmed me. When I opened my eyes and looked at the painting, for a split second I saw Isaac and I standing in front of that mirror again. I gasped and blinked quickly, only to have my parents return, their eternal love exuding from the frame. I gasped again when I was startled by our steward approaching, "Excuse me, Miss Woodbridge, but Mr. Nassar has just arrived."

            I nodded in understanding, "Please show him to the drawing room and have some tea brought in, I will join him immediately." I composed myself as best I could, stopping in front of a mirror to check my countenance, "Presentable at least," I told my reflection.

            As I made my way towards our guest I went over everything Patience had told me about Mr. Nassar. He was an old friend of her father's, they had business dealings together and he was from Egypt. What else was there? Oh yes, his wife was from Kent, I believe. They have three daughters near Patience's age. Well, that would be why he arrived alone then, his children must all be married with families of their own now. As for his wife, perhaps she was not feeling well enough for the voyage. I was sure that Mr. Nassar and I could find enough to talk about until Patience returned. At the very least I could ask him about his homeland and allow him to prattle on until his heart was content. I longed for the distraction of anything currently.

            "I must apologize that I was not here to greet you," I began as I opened the door to the drawing room, "but my sister was not expecting you until this evening." I stopped once into the room and studied the tall figure in front of the window. He seemed much younger than I anticipated, but perhaps once he turned to face me I would see the distinguishing character of an older man.

            "N-no," he started as he turned, "it is m-my fault, Mrs. Woodbridge." The gentleman was indeed young, barely twenty if I had to guess. "I am to m-meet my father here."

            "Your father?" I asked as I took in his appearance. He was indeed very tall and slender, his skin a warm golden color, slightly reddened across his cheeks and nose. His dark hair was rumpled haphazardly and he had a beard. He looked quite scholarly with his spectacles perched so on his nose.

            "Y-yes, my father is Samuel Nassar, do you not remember?" he questioned. He had a slight stutter and seemed very shy. He was fumbling with a thick book as he took a step closer, "I-I don't think we ever met."

            "I know that we haven't," I smiled as I approached with my hand extended, "I am Margaret Woodbridge, Patience's sister."

            "Oh, f-forgive me," he stammered. As he moved to accept my hand he dropped his book, which turned out to be an old and well-used journal from the look of it. "My f-father said that we were w-welcomed here . . . "