2. Herbert Edwards is Rather Fond of Buttered Rolls

1.3K 74 0
                                    

Herbert Edwards was a portly, kind man with a rather large mustache that he trimmed and combed religiously. Besides his beautiful daughter, Hope, his mustache was his pride and joy.

At the current moment, Herbert sat in front of a mirror in one of his many parlors, enjoying his two previously named pastimes: trimming and coming his voluptuous mustache.

Herbert was so ingrained in his trimming that he didn't notice his aforementioned daughter walked in.

Upon seeing her father engrossed in his own grooming, Hope rolled her hazel eyes. "Father." She called out. When he didn't respond, she called him again, although this time her voice was significantly louder and her tired tone betrayed a slight, underlying annoyance.. "Father! Dinner is ready to be served and while I'm rather hungry, I don't much fancy eating alone."

Herbert nodded and set his comb delicately in it's ornate case. "Yes, I imagine all that walking back and forth has given you quite the appetite. Why don't you just walk about the gardens here at Wellington? They're just as lovely as the ones at Hartfordshire."

Hope scoffed slightly under her breath. The unfortunate truth was that the Wellington gardens had been in an abysmal state ever since her mother had passed just seven years ago. When her mother had been alive, the gardens were a fantastical place beaming with life and abundance, comparable to the Hartfordshire gardens. While the Wellington gardens were still decent, it seemed their life died along with Hope's mother. Neither Hope note Herbert had the heart to keep planting the exotic, vibrant flowers her mother had, and left the gardening to the hired estate hands.

Shaking the thoughts of her much missed mother from her mind, Hope walked into the sage green dining room and sat I her usual seat next to the head of the table. After Herbert sat down, Hope couldn't help but notice how lonely they both must have looked, just two people seated one end of such a long table.

While Hope is quick to break the silence with most people, she didn't tend to have very much to say to her father that the man would find interesting. The man seemed to only be interested in facial hair, and as a woman, Hope didn't find much engagement in that topic of conversation.

"These rolls are quite the delight. Miss Abrams is a phenomenal cook." Herbert said, braking the silence while buttering a second roll.

"Yes, they really are delectable. I should thank miss Abrams after dinner for producing such a fine meal." Hope added conversationally, in an attempt at small talk.

Her attempt was in vain. The only sound in the dining room was the clatter of silverware.

After a silence that seemed to last a lifetime, Mr. Edwards finally broke the slightly tense silence. "So, I've been thinking about something for some time now." Hope couldn't help but assume it was something about his mustache and had to repress the urge to roll her eyes before he continued. "I've concluded that your of an age where marriage seems most suitable."

Hope dropped her fork on her plate in shock. She honestly never thought that her father would want her to be married. She had assumed he would have wanted her to care for him in his old age, not run off and have children. After her mother's death, her father had kept her close, in an irrational fear that she too would succumb to illness as her mother had. However, she couldn't deny that fact that her father had grown distend as of late, and that he visited London with increasing frequency.

Instead of losing her temper like she wanted to, she instead acted rationally. "But who will take care of you? I don't wish to leave you in your own, father."

"Nonsense, I won't be alone, Wellington is filled with servants and I can visit the Langston's any time I like." He began. "Don't worry about me. I don't want you to put your life on hold for me. Soon, it will be too late and you'll find yourself lonely. I don't wish to be the cause of your loneliness."

"Nor do I want to be the cause of yours, which is why I'm perfectly content abstaining from marriage. Really father, I have no desire to be married. And it's not even a necessity for me to make a good match! We have a good name, a good estate, and plenty of money, so really, there's no point in my getting married." Hope's voice was filled with the determination of a woman willing to argue for her own freedom.

"I'm not worried about money or the estate, Hope, I'm worried about you. Like I said, I don't want you to be all me when I die. I'm getting older, and while I'm by no means going to drop dead tomorrow, I still think you should consider what will happen when you're left alone." Herbert's voice was full of concern, and a determination to match his daughter's.

"But I won't be! The Langston's are like a second family to me! Jonathan is like a brother to me and Marie like a sister! And Mr and Mrs Langston have always treated me as their own. They would never let me be alone!" Hope was getting desperate. She didn't want to be married, she wanted the freedoms of an unmarried woman, she wanted a life of her own! Sure, there would be things she would have to give up, certain needs a husband fulfills, but she could always rely on herself for that.

"The Langston's love you like their own, yes. But Mr and Mrs Langston are getting older too. And Marie will grow up and get married some day." Herbert paused before adding in a slightly softer tone. "Jonathan will be married someday as well. He won't be at your beck and call forever, as much as he may want to be. He'll move on, and when he does, you won't have anyone around to keep you company."

Hope was silent. Her father was right, Jonathan would get married someday, to some other than herself. He would get married and have children and leave her behind. She didn't know why the thought bothered her so much. She supposed it was because she would be losing her best friend. Hope chose not to dwell on the fact that it wasn't the thought of Jonathan getting married that bothered her; it was the thought of Jonathan marrying someone that wasn't her that gave her an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach.

"I'm quite tired from all that walking. I think I'm going to retire for the evening. Goodnight, father."

"At least consider what I've said," Herbert sighed. "Before it's too late."

As Hope left the dining room, an exhausted Herbert reached for his third, fourth and fifth buttered roll.

They really were quite the delight.

Chasing Hope [COMPLETE]Where stories live. Discover now