WHO Hyacinth & A Borrowed Memory •
WHERE Kitchens •
WHEN late evening, August 29th
Edmund offers some fatherly advice to his youngest child.
WARNINGS None
Toast and cherry jam and milky sweet tea seemed to be Hyacinth's late-night snack of choice. She came down to the kitchens often enough now that the scullery maid knew without asking what Hyacinth would be looking for once she appeared in the doorway. It made it feel a little bit more like home as Hyacinth settled in a chair by the banked fire. Dipping the knife into the jar of cherry preserves, she took in the quiet of the hour and just let herself be. It was so rare to be alone in a busy estate as Summerview Park that she was happy to steal away what she could.
"Could you not sleep?"
The familiar words said in a familiar tone had Hyacinth responding, "I wasn't ready to sleep just yet," well before she realized that the voice was not familiar at all. The man who settled into the chair beside her was a painting come to life. A borrowed memory made real. A gasp caught in her throat and Hyacinth glared at the man's for daring to elicit such an emotion.
Edmund Bridgerton's smile was kind and indulgent, like she was a small child stubbornly staying up past her bedtime. She merely glared harder in response. "Ah, but to sleep gives you the chance to dream, my precious flower, for you are the sort that when you are faced with an unpleasant dream, you will wake yourself with laughter."
He spoke with such fondness and familiarity that he almost fooled Hyacinth. But what was the man before her but a phantom? A shade over her entire life. "What do you know of my dreams?" The knife clattered against the table, leaving a streak of jam in its wake. She ignored it and focused on the ghost of her dead father. This was not the strangest moment at Summerview Park, surely. "What do you know of me? You are dead. You exist only in stories and memories, none of which are my own. Why are you here? Go bother Anthony or Daphne or any of the others who may wish for your company."
"A father's duty is to not only to see to his children's wishes, but their needs, Hyacinth." The words were not said unkindly, but she could hear the rebuke in them. She ignored it, happy to latch onto the festering resentment. "Nor will I allow your sharp tongue to cut me."
"It would be an impressive feat indeed to cut a ghost."
The resulting sigh was a familiar one. One she had heard from her mother and her Anthony in equal measure. Her clever impertinence had at one time been endearingly precocious, now it served as an aggravating obstacle one needed to overcome. Very few attempted the challenge and fewer still completed it. Hyacinth was no delicate flower, not matter what her Mama, and apparently her Papa, wished to believe.
Her father's knuckles brushed her cheek in a manner so like Anthony, Hyacinth had to press her lips together to avoid speaking again, ready to leap to her brother's defense without provocation. Anthony had been what she had needed, for all that her eldest brother had his doubts. "Do not let fear rule your heart, darling girl. There is so much light within you, ready to be mirrored back if you would just give love a chance."
Edmund rose from his seat and dropped a kiss to the top of Hyacinth's head. This time, she could not contain her reaction, letting out a harsh half choked-off breath. How dare he trespass on her solitude and then leave so suddenly? For the first time in her life she would know what she and the rest of her family had truly lost when the late Viscount had fallen victim to the bee's sting.
"Don't go, Papa. Please stay." Hyacinth did not even care that her voice wavered and her cheeks suddenly felt damp.
Already at the kitchen door, Edmund turned back. His smile was still kind and indulgent, but there was a hint of sadness evident as well. "I am never gone, my flower. You can find me in your dreams when you need to be reminded of how to laugh."
With a flicker of the candlelight, he melted into the shadows and Hyacinth was alone once more. It was no longer the comfortable solitude she had sought before. Lifting the tea cup to her lips, she swallowed the nearly too hot liquid greedily. For now she was ready to sleep.