Love Comes in Three

Chapter Seventy-Seven "Journals and Maps"

            The next several days were fairly quiet, only Leah keeping me company for the most part.  The young Mr. Nassar had spent most of his time outside, going over the grounds.  We would watch from the windows whenever we saw him pass, he was absorbed in thought and I doubted anything could shake him.  I had noticed on several occasions Leah would go from window to window silently until she lost track of him. When I suggested she join him, her rosy cheeks became bright red and she made an excuse to return to her room.

            It wasn't until the second full week of the Nassars' visit did I realize that Leah spent less and less time alone in her quarters.  Even the amount of letters she sent out lessened.  I smiled to myself thinking that sweet little Leah was becoming rather fond of the quiet young man from Egypt.  I wondered if her family would mind the attachment but then I recalled that there was very little interest in her, especially by her mother.  It did not matter though, I was terribly fond of her and thought her more of a sister than anything.  Surely I could look out for her interests.

            One lazy evening when everyone was strewn throughout the house occupied with their individual pursuits Owen found me in the library.  "Excuse me, Miss Woodbridge," it was surprising to hear him speak so clearly, his voice having a husky tone, "I have something for you." He joined me on the sofa and handed me a leather journal.  I turned it over in my hands realizing it was just like his, "Since you have been so kind to me, I thought I would give you a way to collect your memories.  The good ones," he corrected.

            "Why thank you, but I have journals," I started, then wishing I had not said as much.

            "Yes, but this one should be special. Only fill it with things that make you happy, so no matter what, you have something to go to, that will return you to happy times." His words sat heavily on me.  A portable sanctuary.

            "Only happy things?  Is that why yours is filled with maps?" I laughed.

            "Yes," he nodded, joining in my amusement, "I love to travel, to see new lands and locations and our business in antiquities allows that.  So wherever I go, while I'm there I make a new map.  I learn the lay of the land so I can capture it and relive it whenever I look through those pages.  So I will never forget the places I've been."

            "That sounds much more lovely than anything I considered," I mused looking at my new journal, trying to figure what I could possibly put in its pages.

            "It is not usual for this quiet map maker to confide . . . " I was suddenly concerned by the tone of his voice.

            "I wonder where Leah is," I said standing and looking around feverishly.

            Owen seemed to sense my anxiety and he took a breath, adjusting his glasses, "Miss Edgehill is in the garden currently.  She's been looking for something . . . "

            "Or someone," I corrected hoping he would follow my meaning.

            He smiled warmly, "I shall inquire when I give this to her."  He showed me another journal, just like the one he gave to me.  He gave a slight bow and left me alone with my whirling thoughts.

            I fell back into the sofa, letting my hand rest on my forehead.  I had given him no warrant to become sentimental with me.  If anything I tried to get him and Leah to bond.  They are wonderfully similar yet different enough to engage each other for long periods of time.  I saw it, it was obvious.  As for me . . . well I'm still caught in my dilemma.  One suitor that I am certainly in love with had left me alone with only a promise to return.  Another suitor that I had left who only returns promising me the certainty of his love.  Why does love need to be so difficult?

            "You know I can hear you thinking from two rooms over," Freddie said startling me.  He swatted my leg and sat beside me.  "What has the gears in your head turning so?"

            "Mr. Nassar," I breathed holding up my new journal, "he gave me this."

            "Oh, that was very kind of him, do you not like it?" Freddie took it from my hand and studied it.

            "It's perfectly lovely," I sighed, "but his voice turned . . . tender."

            "Oh, I see," he nodded handing me back the book.  "Have you been encouraging him?"

            "Freddie, no!" I squealed sitting upright, "The only thing I've done is to encourage him towards Leah.  Don't you think they would be darling together?"

            "Margaret," he sighed pinching the bridge of his nose, "You'd think after everything you've been through you wouldn't be so apt to play matchmaker."

            I leaned back into the cushions again, thinking about what he said.  I could not be categorized the same as Patience.  I was not forcing things or even doing much more than a nudge.  But still it was enough for me to pause.  "I just wanted us all to be friends."

            "Friends is good.  But when it comes to more than friends," he inclined his head towards mine, "have you been reading like a good girl?"

            Of course Freddie would bring up the letters.  He has never been shy over his preference for me to marry Percival.  I knew that everything he would say to sway me in that direction would be the truth.  There were no secrets when it came to Percival.  Yes, perhaps when he first began to show an interest in me I was still the twelve year old girl in ringlets, mooning over the older, dashing brother of my new sister-in-law.  Perhaps I did not understand what it was, or could have been between us.  Perhaps I was just so overwhelmed by words drummed into me that it was easier to believe that no matter what, he was not for me.  Percival is a good man and that will always be true.  He had never kept a thing from me, unless you count the restraint he showed me in comparison to the unfettered feelings that filled his letters.  "Yes, Freddie, I have."

            My brother smiled and patted my hand, "I'm glad to hear it.  Has it given you any pause in regard to other things?"

            "If you mean Isaac, well, I . . . " Words were failing me.  Part of me knew that it would be wiser to go to Percival.  He was steady.  He, like the ships he sailed, dominated the sea.  He was strong and controlled.  He would be an admirable choice and he would do everything he could to make me happy.  Yet I was still undeniably drawn to the vivid nature of Isaac.  We had shared so much and our connection was solid.  We both provided missing aspects within each other, we completed each other.  I looked at my brother, silently waiting for an answer.  He was barely containing the hope he had that I would come to my senses.  But they are my senses after all.  "I am considering everything, Freddie.  But I have not given up on Isaac . . . not yet."

            I stood up and smiled at him, holding the new journal against me, "I think I will retire to my room and contemplate what happy things I should like to always keep with me."  He gave me a brief nod and watched as I left the room.  I felt stronger for admitting my thoughts to Freddie, freer for admitting them to myself.  I may not be much closer to a final decision, but at least I knew that I was thinking clearly.  Perhaps I owed that to the quiet map maker.