“Li, look at me.”
I did so, bracing myself for whatever she would say next.
“Fiona is brave, but she’s in danger. This Mr. Basset is a bad man. Who knows about Mr. West? She’s living alone there with a maid who is perhaps as innocent as she is. She’s defenseless. She doesn’t know the language. Your French would help her.”
“My French?” I’d taken several years at college but hadn’t spoken it much since.
“Yes, your French. You’ve said yourself you have a knack for languages.” She brought her age-spotted hands together in her lap. “Yes, you must go. If Lord Barnes were home, he would want you to go. He might even ask you. If he knew what was going on over there.”
I leaned against the rim of the sink and stared at her. “All of this is impossible.”
“She needs you. I should have insisted you go when they asked you the first time. We’ve left her all alone in that city with these strange men. You’re the only one who can go. Her sisters and brothers are too busy.”
“It’s not practical,” I said. “The trip is expensive. The boat takes weeks to get there. By then, she could be married to Mr. West.”
“That’s right. Which is why you must go and see for yourself this Mr. West.” Grandmother squinted at me, then dabbed at her face with a handkerchief she’d pulled from her pocket.
“I have responsibilities here. She’s doing fine without me.” I plunged my hands into the pockets of my trousers. Something small and hard was in the seam of one pocket. I pulled it loose, expecting it to be a pebble, but instead it was a carrot seed, flat and rectangular in nature. I’d worn these pants when I was planting the spring garden. They’d been washed since then, but the seed must have burrowed into the seam.
A seed, I thought. A symbol of the dormancy of my life, hiding away in the shadows without any hope of bursting into life.
“You will go,” Grandmother said. “She needs you. She’s too polite to ask, but that’s why she’s written all of this to you. We owe it to that family. You know that.”
“I built this house for us. For you to have a place to rest your head that belongs to our family. Finally. You sacrificed everything for Fai and me. It’s important that I take care of you now.” I swept both our glasses into the sink, avoiding her gaze.
“You must listen to me.” Her voice, soft but poignant, pulled at me, turning me around to look at her. “You’ve always been a good boy, doing everything you’re supposed to, taking care of me and Fai. Is it possible that you could go and enjoy yourself while helping Fiona? What harm can come from you going to Paris? I will be fine here.”
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling it fall right back into place over my forehead. “She has James West now. What if I were in the way? What if I ruined all her chances for happiness? He’s an Englishman, probably made from the same mold as her father. Isn’t that what she should have?”
“Do you think that’s what she wants?” Grandmother asked.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s what she needs.” I examined my hands and my long, slender fingers made for making music. “But it doesn’t matter. I love her and cannot have her. Going to Paris and seeing her as the light of someone else’s eyes—I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I might crack in two.”
“You must go. You’re all she has. All she needs. Her father trusts you.”
“I’m weak, Grandmother. You know I am. When it comes to Fiona, I can’t think logically.”
“We’re both strong, my boy. Do you know what we’ve survived already in this lifetime?”
I closed my eyes, remembering the cold, dark mining shaft where we’d huddled, homeless and starving, those weeks before Lord Barnes found us and brought us home. We’d buried my mother and father in the spring, after they’d died within weeks of each other. My grandmother had been left all alone with two little children in a country she didn’t speak the language of. There had been no gold in that rush my parents had risked it all for. Grandmother had fed us berries and bunnies she managed to trap. Until winter had nearly wiped us away. And then Lord Barnes had come.
“You’re right,” I said. “We owe Lord Barnes a great debt. But is this what’s right for Fiona or me?”
“Go to Paris.” Grandmother folded her hands on top of the table. “I didn’t raise you to shirk your responsibilities. Fiona’s without—” She interrupted herself and looked up at the ceiling. “What’s the English word?”
“Without guile? Compassionate to a fault?” The list of adjectives for Fiona was long. I stopped before I embarrassed myself.
“Yes. You must see this Mr. West with your own eyes. You should be there when she has lessons from the terrible man. I’ll return to my room at the big house. Lizzie might need my help anyway. She has no idea how to make my herbal teas.”
We talked no more about it that night, going about our usual routine. However, before bed, I sat down to write a letter to Fiona.
Dear Fiona,
Thank you for writing to me. There’s no reason for you to apologize about the incident before you left. I am truly sorry I hurt you. I wish things were different, but wishing so doesn’t make them so.
I’m writing to let you know I will be headed your way on the first train and then boat out of America. Although I know you’re quite capable of looking after yourself, as demonstrated by the way you put him in his place straight away, I will not rest knowing you’re in danger. I have chosen not to share your predicament with your siblings. As I’m sure you agree, telling them would lead to one of them disrupting their life to go to you. I have the least to disrupt, so it should be me. In fact, I should have come with you when you first asked. I’d feel terribly guilty if anything should happen to you when all would have been well had I just agreed to be your chaperone.
If you’re wondering about Grandmother, she feels strongly I should join you. She’s offered to move back into her room at the big house while I’m away. She hasn’t said but I think she might miss it there. Regardless, I am going to do as she’s asked. Everything will be here when we return.
Given my calculations, I should be there at the end of June. I’ll not wait to hear from you, as the letters take such a long time to arrive.
If Basset does anything else, there’s no reason you have to continue studying with him. No voice lesson is worth compromising one’s integrity or most of all, safety. He may seem all-powerful but remember who you are. You’re Fiona Barnes, the best person in the world.
I paused to nibble on the end of my quill. Best person in the world? It was a little much, but I would leave it. Rewriting wasn’t necessary when time was of the essence. I finished the letter simply.
I will see you soon.
With love,
Li