Harland was fun; he was exciting. He loved to walk with her for hours and talk about nothing in particular. He liked to pull her out into the rain, when the wind whipped the waves up into a frenzy. Madeline loved to watch the sea like this, the waves crashing against the pier in giant sprays of white and gray. Caoimhe and Carson often worried that she would get hurt out there one day, but when she was with Harland, she felt completely safe.
After a month and a half of working at The Admiral’s Arms, she was finally beginning to feel as though she belonged. She joked with the regulars, she knew where everything was, and she was close with Caoimhe, of course, but also with Carson. They were becoming a sort of family for each other, although she was constantly wondering if Carson would ever get around to telling Caoimhe what he felt. It was sweet to watch, in any case, although she wasn’t sure if Caoimhe knew or even if she felt the same way.
The only problem was Liam, the gangly and shy cook who barely spoke to her on good days and was now dodging her completely. It was confusing; she had never been anything less than completely kind to him, and her desire to become good friends with anyone had made her hover around him like a bumblebee around a flower. For the first few weeks he seemed to accept her with a growing sort of grace, almost smiling whenever she would ask him questions.
However, after Harland came in one day and gave her a kiss right in front of him, Liam had closed himself off to her.
For some reason, it drove Madeline mad. She spent more time than she should have wheedling him to get back into his good graces.
“Liam is a quiet boy,” Carson had said when Madeline went to him for advice. “He did not have a life that one would call happy, and we’ve been trying to give him the space to accept the idea that his life still has the chance for happiness.”
“Do you know what happened to him?” Madeline asked. Carson shook his head.
“These parts, it could be any number of things. Maybe his mother was one of those… girls, the ones on the docks. Either way, he was left to fend for himself for a long time.
It is not…”
Something you would understand, was the end of that sentence, Madeline knew. Although she had been working for The Admiral’s Arms long enough to become a bit of a fixture there, she still carried the taint of aristocracy, no matter how much she tried to
deny it.
“I wonder if they’ll ever see me as one of them,” she complained to Harland one night as they lie together on her bed, their hearts still racing from the love they had made. “I am not some lady who wants to be dressed in fine satins and furs all the time. I am sure they can see that, right?”
“They will,” Harland said. “It just takes time.”
She did eventually hear a little bit about Harland’s life, but in broad brushstrokes. His father had been dead for two years, and after that he joined up with the nearest boat that would take him. His mother had always been sickly. He had a younger brother. Madeline could picture the cozy little cottage they must have lived in. She liked to picture little Harland, his light hair sticking out every which way, his glasses too large for his face, as he played with a boat and dreamed of something bigger.
The next morning Madeline was surprised to see Liam sitting at the bar when she walked in to begin preparations for that night. His gangly frame seated so high on the stool made her think of a marionette puppet with its strings cut, but the look on his face was anything but jolly.
“Good afternoon, Liam! You are here quite early.”
Liam’s glum face looked up at her, his eyes searching her face for something before he gave a great sigh.
“I got a letter, but I’ve been hiding it from you,” he said sadly. Madeline’s heart dropped in her chest, but she forced her expression to remain neutral, even cheerful, lest he notice her momentary panic.
“Why? Whoever could it be from?”
Liam held up the letter and Madeline could see a stamped wax seal from where she stood. She backed away instinctively. How had she been found? It had been nearly two months since she had left the manor. How could they have found her so easily, even now? This panic lasted for only a moment or two before she realized that the wax used to make the seal was not her father’s usual green. Instead this was a bright red with an “S” stamped into it. She did not recognize the symbol as belonging to any lords she could think of, and it was too simple to be a lord’s seal. Could this be Winston sending her a letter of warning in a disguise?
“I am sorry,” Liam whispered. “I know I am not allowed to take someone’s mail.”
“It is completely alright, Liam,” Madeline replied, keeping her tone as calm and soothing as she could manage. “I would just like to see what you have there. I promise I will not tell a soul.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Liam handed the letter over to Madeline, and without thinking she immediately opened it. Unfolding it, she saw a handwriting she did not recognize, found that it was not addressed to her, and against her better judgment, she began to read.
Harland,
I do hope that this finds you well. After all these years I never believed that I would actually be able to find you. How long has it been? I know that you still write to Mother, and I know that she greatly appreciates it. Now I write to you with a request that I know she is too proud to make, and perhaps you are too proud to accept.
I need you to come home, Harland. I know that many will think that I am a fool for writing this. How often does a man build an empire with his bare hands only to abandon it? How often is a man who has been left to tend to your estate so willing to give up the fortune and the prestige that I have managed to attain running the empire in your stead? And yet here I am asking you to return, and I don’t know if you have a choice in the matter. As much as I would like to play the leader, this was always the position you earned, and I think it’s time for you to put aside your childish sailing and come back to take up the mantle of Colonel Sanders.
Mother would never tell you this, not in her letters anyway, but she’s incredibly sick. I don’t know how much longer she has, and I very dearly hope that you read my words and take them seriously. She wants to see you one last time, and I believe it would be best if she saw you come home to take back what you spent so long building. The hills of Kentucky miss you, as do all of us.
I hope this finds you well and in good faith.
Your brother,
David
Madeline could feel Liam’s eyes on her face as she read the letter. Harland.Her Harland was the owner of an empire? A member of the American gentry? The very type of person that Madeline had wanted to run away from? Her Harland?
The letter slipped through her fingers, and she stepped away from it, as if trying to distance herself from the truth. Good lord, what had she done? She put on her mask of cheerfulness and looked up at Liam again.
“Thank you. Do not worry one bit, you will not be in any kind of trouble, I promise. But I must go and take a walk for a moment. Would you mind getting the tavern ready to
open today?”
Liam had not even finished nodding by the time Madeline escaped from the horror of what she had just learned.
For the past month, Persephone had been held in the stables on the edge of town, where Madeline paid for her care and took her for long rides on the mornings she did not have anywhere to be. The mare looked happy to see her, which made Madeline glad, and she saddled her up and mounted her, even if she wasn’t particularly dressed for it.
“Hello, Persephone. I know you know where we are going,” Madeline whispered to the horse, easing her down the very road they had traveled to arrive at Mistle-Thrush-by-the-Sea. Persephone loved to run, and Madeline loved the feeling of the wind in her hair, and she truly didn’t know where she was going until she realized she was there.
The cliffs.
Dismounting and leaving Persephone to graze, Madeline walked up to the very same cliffs she had looked out over before arriving to town, before she felt as though her entire life had changed. She closed her eyes and breathed in the sea air.
Harland was the very thing she had been running from, wasn’t he? She had told him everything. Why hadn’t he told her? He had kept such a huge secret from her, and what’s more, he had remained in touch with his family, enough that they could summon him home. Is that what he was going to do? Had he been planning that all along? Was she just a lark to him?
Or worse, was he grooming her to be a wife? Did he expect to bring her back to whatever manor he came from to live the life of the happily married wife and give up everything she had tried to build for herself?
She stood at the edge of the cliff and wondered about this. Distantly she heard someone call her name, and she knew it was him. Maybe he had discovered that she had read the letter; it was certainly possible. She needed to figure out what to do. She needed to make
a choice.
“Madeline!” Harland’s voice had an edge of nervousness to it, implying that he knew that she had discovered his secret.
Taking a deep breath, Madeline turned to face her lover—her lover who had lied.
The wind had whipped Harland’s fair hair around his face, blowing against his beautifully sculpted cheekbones and glasses. Seeing him standing there, she momentarily lost her will to anger as her stomach dropped, dizzy with the love that she felt for him.