The Delicate Christmas Confession

THE DELICATE CHRISTMAS CONFESSION

I

As far as she was concerned, the house might be falling apart.

Agnes did not care. Her entire attention was fixed on the pieces of paper which she kept counting and recounting silently to herself.

She had crossed the line and the air had been heated. In the drawing room, Agnes’ father – Francis Stanhope, was having a very bitter confrontation with his wife. The noise the couple made, as they raged at each other seemed capable of tearing the entire house into shards.

Agnes still did not flinch and she made not the slightest attempt to intervene. She had never witnessed her parents disagreeing on a matter, and she would have thought that if it ever happened, all she needed to do to quell the fire was simply stand in between them. Her presence would remind them of the beautiful product of their nineteen years union and they would stop.

If Agnes walked to the drawing room this time, even she suspected that her parents would ignore their war to foment more trouble. Once they did that, they would pounce on her and rip her apart, and they would inevitably regret their actions thereafter.

“Pregnant at eighteen?” Francis was yelling, “This was not how I trained my daughter. She is just at the cusp of getting a good man. What have you done to her?”

“I have no prior knowledge about this. I have nothing to do with this.” The shriek of her mother would haunt her forever, perhaps until she did something that was worthy of their love once again. But what could that possibly be after she had broken the pitcher. There was indeed no way of collecting water with it again, and so there was nothing she could do to pacify her furious parents.

Agnes Stanhope tried to understand how it had all happened. One moment she was in love with Edward Pembroke, the following moment, she was here; seated on the floor of her apartment restraining tears.

Rather than attributing blames on each other, Agnes wished her parents could focus on knowing if Edward still loved her. She felt that mattered, but before their sights, that did not make any sense.

Agnes would still ask her parents about it later. A week after the argument had been pushed aside to allow peace reign in their home. The days were tensed with silence, and the relationship around the house was fragile.

“Mama, Papa.” Agnes said when she had successfully walked into their chamber to break the spell of silence in the house. The fact that they let her into their chamber meant they still cared about her. “I think we could inquire of Edward what he wants with this baby.”

The faces of Agnes’ parents showed they were befuddled by her courage and her hope.

“Oh dear!” Elena Stanhope said sadly. “You are clearly unaware about the implications of what you have done. You can no longer work as a maid, and you have forfeited your chances of working as a shop girl or seamstress. You have brought shame to your father and me, and now we, who have struggled for years to acquire relevance among the social class would be condemned to eternal shame.”

Agnes sat on the floor of her parents’ room and she sobbed. No one made any attempt to pacify her, they also had reasons to weep, and their little girl had been careless to embarrass herself in such manner.

“You could have waited only for a few more years. And you could have encouraged that man to follow the right process of marriage. Does he not love you? Why then were you both in haste?” Francis said.

“As far as we are concerned, no one knows about your state, and it is best for you that we keep it that way, informing Edward would be catastrophic. He might inform his parents and that would lead to public knowledge and eternal shame.” Elena looked at her sobbing daughter; “Is that what you want; risking Edward’ cooperation to disgrace you both or his ignorance that would save you both the grief?”

Agnes was not certain what she wanted, but her mother’s offer was clear. She would not do anything to hurt Edward, her condition was as big a mistake for her as it was for him too, it was not the best time to bring such matter into his life.

“I agree with you mama, it is best we keep as mute as we can over the issue.” Agnes replied.

“The best decision is for you to go stay with your aunt Katie.” Francis declared.

“Aunt Katie?” Agnes’ imagination went wild. If there was anything she feared more than her present predicament, it had to with staying with her paternal aunt Katie.

“Yes, Aunt Katie.” Elena nodded agreeably, “She suffered the same fate when she was young, and if she could survive all these years living alone. She is in the best position to keep you until the birth of the baby.”

“I understand that you may feel sad about this, but my sister is the only person who can help us keep this as much secret as we want it to be.” Francis said.

“Feel sad?” Agnes realized, “I cannot feel sad papa. I am comfortable with the plans you have for me.”

What made her parents absolutely supportive was their understanding that their daughter had been completely ignorance. She was still humble, and would follow their recommendations. Such a daughter, to them, deserved to be protected from the cruelty of the world.

“I shall write to my sister at once, and I shall let her know all about our situation.” Francis said with a light air about him.

II

Thunder rattled the walls of Pembroke House. It was a cruel December storm that shook the house to its rafters but past experiences had made the family; who sat on the brink of wealth, guard against such calamities. The storm continued to threaten, but the house only rattled in fragile mockery.

Mr. Collins Pembroke disliked the draft that was seeping into the apartment through point-sized holes from the window but if he complained, his wife would frown at his endless complains. He kept mute then and endured.

The seat on which Edward, his first son, liked to sit in, from where he had the advantage of glancing at the entire drawing room, was blank. It had been blank for a few days and like the draft, that too had begun to disturb Collins.

He looked up at his wife, she was seated in her favorite couch, with a coat wrapped around her while knitting and humming a song to herself. She was unbothered by the storm. “Where is Edward?” Collins inquired.

Susan stopped humming and she looked up with haughty eyes; “In his room I believe.” And as soon as she had replied, she ignored her husband and continued knitting.

Collins swallowed hard and overlooked her insolence. He had gotten accustomed to it ever since they got married.

“He has been hiding in his room much these days. It is bothering.”

“Not me. I am not bothered.”

“You should be.” Collins declared. “He is young and maturing, matters such as isolating himself should be the first indication that something is wrong with him.”

“Oh-huh.” Susan yawned and she ignored her husband.

Collins stood and began to walk into his son’s room. This was a sensitive time in his life; he would not let his wife’s character slip the sensitivity behind them.

He knocked against the door. When there was no response, Collins pushed the door and walked in.

The room was dark and strangely colder than any other part of the house, Collins realized he needed light to detect his son’s position. He ambled in the direction of Edward’s bed and groped around it to find a suitable seat.

“Son. Can you hear me?”

A figure stirred close to Collins. Perhaps he imagined it, nothing was certain in that darkness. He stood from his new seat and walked to fetch the match box. When he returned with a lighted candle, that was when the source of the cold became apparent.

A part of Edward’s window had been broken and a small rag had been used to cover it. Collins ran to observe it better, and it was not difficult to piece the event together. He hurried back to the drawing room, wrapping a coat around him.

“What is it?” Susan could not ignore the swiftness of her husband’s movement, although she did not stand nor shiver from where she was.

“Edward is gone!” Collins informed without stopping.

“Gone? Where?” Susan hurled the materials in her hand away and she began making her way into her son’s room. She desperately hoped that the claim was false.

***

The rain had started pouring down heavily. Through the help of the lightening, Collins made the silhouette of his son under the tall tree in the compound.

“Boy! What are you doing here?” Collins yelled.

The rain poured desperately upon them.

“I just want to be alone and here, father.” Edward cried.

“I can barely hear you. You’d catch a cold and that would make the matters worse. Come on in, please.”

With the help of his father, Edward was led back into the apartment. Susan was in the center of the drawing room; her six year old daughter was by her, crying.

The commotion in the house infuriated Collins. He always attributed his challenges in life to his financial limitations, but even though he was far richer than several people around them, he knew that poorer people led more peaceful lives.

“What is the matter son?” Susan inquired with a concern Collins considered false.

“Get a towel for the boy.” Collins requested. His wife scurried out of the drawing room perplexed by the event that had unfolded in their home.

When the boy and his father had changed into warmer outfits, Susan offered them both cups of steaming tea and the atmosphere became less intense.

“Talk to us son, what is the problem?”

“I have not seen Agnes in several weeks.”

“Agnes?” Susan was infuriated, “Agnes Stanhope is the cause of my home’s misery?”

“Susan, take it easy on the lad. Allow him to speak, so that we know how well we shall handle this situation.” Collins informed. Susan pulled her daughter closer and they walked off the drawing room. It was obvious the discussion was meant to be between father and son.

“So tell me all about it.”

“I am in love with Agnes father.” Edward said sobbing, “I cannot think straight without her. I love her passionately. I can practically do nothing without her.”

Collins inhaled. There was no doubt, his son had turned eighteen, hardly focused on things that were most important to his life, and yet he had time to wail over an infatuation.

“Son. You know that a man is always free to make his choice of woman when he is well grown and ready for marriage.” Collins speech was powerfully delivered, “But you of all people must know that there are certain conditions that premise a man falling in love; you must possess a house and reliable income before you seriously contemplate marriage. If you want to show genuine affection to the lass, these are things you must hold up. Her parents are probably bothered about the both of you, and perhaps that is why they decided that she should be wary of you”

Edward looked absentmindedly at his world. He was foolish to think that he could easily have Agnes. The truth within him was not primarily about his competence to care for the girl or not, it was that he had made her into a woman, and the guilt would be on his conscience forever.

III

Six Years After

There were moments of thrills, shrills and hooos and haaaas. None of the spectators could deny having such a great time at the theaters. And since Christmas was only a few weeks away, the Christmas plays witnessed larger gatherings.

Despite the magnitude of crowd present at the Theater, Edward could feel the eyes of other people on him. Many times, he was at loss over how to act when people were staring at him. He’d often wonder in his big castle’s study, what the people thought of him.

It was not through his human capacity that he had amassed the wealth he had acquired. He had only been lucky.

In reality, Edward’s abundant fortune had not come about by luck. In the days that followed his father’s counsel, he had dedicated his time and effort towards the important things in life. He had suddenly grown to become the kind of man his parents wanted him to be, and with the Lord’s blessing, he had climbed up the ladder of glory.

“Mr. Pembroke.” One of the landed gentry approached him.

“Sir. Phil.” Edward acknowledged smiling. He would never forget that the father of the knight had once ridiculed his own father over debate for a piece of land.

“I need your favor.” Sir Phil confessed without caution. He did not care that some of the other people around would hear him beg. It did not matter again, all of that. Edward had become very wealthy; no one was shy to ask him when they needed favor. Especially when the news was all around town that he was a generous giver.

“You know I have visited this place to the end of mere amusement, I do not like approve of speaking business dealings here.”

“Then I shall be the first face in your office on Monday, sir.” Phil pleaded.

“Great.” Edward acknowledged.

As soon as he turned to walk into his carriage, the bold approach of a lady in black gown threw him off balance.

“Hello Sir.” The lady said.

Edward looked at her and stopped in his tracks. She was an adorable lady who stood at five feet four. She had a slim figure and her elegant black dress blended with the night. Her face was smothered in very excellent makeup and she was an instant attraction.

“Hello ma’am?” Edward replied, surprised at the lady’s defiance. “Do I know you?”

“Oh, forgive my manner.” She chuckled and stretched her arm, “I am Stella Bridget. The daughter of Mr. Easton Bridget.”

“Oh.” Edward nodded. He could remember her, but he knew her father quite well. “Your father was a good friend of mine.” He chirped.

“Yes.” She replied, revealing a perfect set of dentition. “It is my father’s desire that you take me home in your carriage. If you do not mind.”

The manner in which the lady let her request tumble out of her lips with so much confidence put Edward off balance. He had never seen a lady so confrontational.

In the days that followed his spiral spin into success, he had come across all manner of ladies; most of who were desperate to have his attention. He had however never met one like Stella.

“It would be my pleasure.” Edward said as he stretched his hand forth to lead the lady into his carriage.

The mission was instantly clear, she had perhaps studied the man and had come to the conclusion that only a bold approach such as hers would work in discovering the emotional part of him.

“Shall we remain silent like this through the journey, or would you like to know a little about me?” Stella said.

The words tumbled out of her mouth as though she had rehearsed them countlessly. He found the details amusing, merely so. She had traveled a lot, spoke French and was a good cook. But as they journeyed on, she refused to stop talking, and he soon found himself drawn to the kind of lady Stella was.

Stella knew exactly what she needed to say to win his heart. Whoever put her up to the tactics knew Edward well.

“Have you ever been in love?” Edward asked.

Stella had not been prepared for such question in between her speech. The person who put her up had forgotten to inform her about how very impulsive Edward can be.

“What?” she stuttered.

“You are very experienced and obviously, you have everything. Is there a man in your life?”

“Well, there is none.”

“Has there ever been any?” Edward asked.

Edward was not directly asking the lady, he was talking from his own travails. He had not forgiven himself for the departure of the woman he was very invested in. And this was the clear clog in his ability to find love again.

As soon as Stella got off the carriage, Edward instructed his coachman to take him to see the Stanhopes. He had visited them on some occasions in the past and no one had given him any concrete reason as regard Agnes departure or destination.

“This is night sir!” Mr. Francis Stanhope exclaimed, as though the visitor did not know.

Of course no one in the town was unaware of the financial transformation in the life of the Pembrokes, and everyone equally knew it was all to the glory of Edward, the son.

“I am deeply sorry sir, but I reckon that coming at this time also reflects how genuinely concerned I am of your daughter.”

Francis smiled, and he let the man into their apartment. “I am quite convinced that you feel concerned about my daughter, but I am afraid that I cannot tell you where she is. You both appear to have made sense out of your lives, and I clearly do not want any of you to ruin the life of the other. You can go ahead and live happily without her.”

“I can find no happiness without Agnes.” Edward confessed.

Francis seemed sincerely touched by the Edward’s show of repentance, but even he and his wife had scarcely heard from their daughter and they were unwilling to alter whatever she had going for her in the new land.

“With time, you shall get over her.” Francis promised.

“It has been over five years. If I have not gotten over her now, I doubt I will ever do.”

“We shall see about that.”

When Edward left, in a more dejected manner than he had come, Elena walked out of hiding.

“It now seems quite unfair that we leave him in the dark of this matter.” Elena stated clearly.

“Believe me woman; it is best we let the sleeping dogs lie.”

“But I do not see any dog lying here. He is a troubled man, and you know we are not certain about our daughter’s life in Scotland too.”

“Agnes is a strong girl, I am sure she would have gotten over the lust in her eyes.”

“But with a child?” Elena reminded. Her speech was immediately followed by a silence laden with reflection. “Even we have not seen our grandchild, and I hitch so much to have him in my hands.”

“We can visit Agnes in Scotland, but we shall not have that baby ruin the beautiful life of our daughter’s emotions. Not at this time.”

Elena understood her husband and she refrained from further disagreement. The two lovers had already carved a life for themselves for the years that had split them apart, to try to mend their lives now might lead to an even greater chaos. Her husband was right, it was best to let the sleeping dog lie.

IV

Agnes had found an apartment for herself and her Stark. She had named him that after Edward’s grandfather.

Hard as she tried, she felt guilty about keeping the boy away from his true father. Her stance was unshaken over whether or not it was right to leave Edward.

Things would have been a lot better for them bot if they had engaged a little patience in their affair. She had learnt that now anyway, but it was too late to mend.

“Mama. You crying again?” the voice of the little boy inquired.

They lived in a cottage, from where she sold vegies at the market near them. It was the enterprise she could engage in to keep the family together.

Agnes wiped her face and hurried to lift the boy. “No. I was not crying. A fly entered my eyes.”

“I was having a dream.” Stark said, rubbing his eyes.

“Care to share that with me?”

“I saw a man calling me to come to him.”

“A man?” Agnes was perplexed. “A man, called you to come to him?” She looked around the house to ensure that no one was around their home. No man would ever call my son! She prayed within her. He is mine alone.

The boy was not done with his revelation; “He says he is my father.”

That completed the dream and dismissed Agnes’ sorrow. It occurred to her suddenly that the boy has come of age and had recognized that his birth would not have been possible without a father.

“Mama?” Stark said, “You’ve said nothing.”

“Oh, Stark. Your father loves you, but you must not let anyone tell you they are your father.”

“Where is my father?” Stark finally asked directly.

Agnes stuttered her response, but she ended it by encouraging the little boy to return to bed. She carried him in her arms, into the bed chamber of the small house, and she stretched him on their old bed.

As soon as she heard his light snore, constrained tears found their way back into her eyes.

It suddenly made no sense that she was keeping the secrets from her lover. Truth be said, she had not imagined herself living the life of a single mother while she was still young enough to make a new life for herself. She did not want to harbor a child who would never know his father.

As she thought hard and long, she convinced herself that a man like Edward would have been married in London, given the length of time that had passed. And the best decision therefore became to let him see and know about the secret she had hidden from him.

If upon confession, the matter took a wild turn and escalated beyond reasonable control, she would find a way to snatch her son and flee the city once again. And then, it would be a once for all departure. That way, Stark would have met his father.

The more she thought about this new plan, the more it made sense. And a few moments later she concluded her first step was to write her parents about it. She would start moving as soon as she sent the letter to her parents, because it was a good plan, and a good plan that had to wait would truncate its enthusiasm. Enthusiasm was essential for any plan to manifest properly.

Dear Papa and Mama,

I shall be coming home soon. I will be with you by Christmas.

I realized that I must give Edward the one chance to meet with his son. I do not care what he makes of this after he realizes that he has a son.

Stark is old enough, and he has begun having dreams about his father. Perhaps it is Edward she truly sees in this dream, I do not know. What I do know however, is that I do not want my son to feel eternally separated from his father.

I need to apologize in advance, for whatever discomfort my brief return shall cause as I shall not wait for your response before I set out on the journey.

Your daughter,

Agnes.

***

By the slimmest stroke of luck, Elena Stanhope and her husband were gathering their items to travel all the way to Scotland. They wanted to keep their visit a secret from their daughter, and so they decided to write only to inform Katie.

Katie received the letter from them with the clear understanding of their intention to keep their daughter from knowing the plot, and she decided to play along.

And so it happened that as Agnes’ parents were departing England for the Highlands, Agnes was consequently departing Scotland for England.

V

Edward Pembroke looked at Stella and he tried once again to convince himself that he was being fair.

She was happy, Stella. She appeared delighted about her dream coming true; there was no single lady in the entire town who wouldn’t want Edward, with the new state his family was in.

Only some years ago, he had been no more than a struggling dolt. He liked the luxuries that came with his wealth, but somewhere in his heart, he could not get over the frightful thought in his head. He had been unfair.

“Merry Christmas.” He said to Stella, and she smiled at him pleasantly.

As soon as his carriage arrived in front of her father’s apartment. They had gone for an outing, just as it had been the case in recent times.

Edward knew that Stella could tell that his heart was not completely given to their affair. Although, he avoided telling Stella anything about Agnes, it was clear in her manner that he felt guilty about a past affair.

“There is something I must tell you Edward.” Stella declared just as soon as the coachman opened the door to lead them out of the carriage.

Edward’s brows furrowed, “Is anything wrong, dear Stella?”

She chuckled. “I know you have found it difficult to get over an affair in your past.”

“Oh, Stella, that is past me now, I -”

“No Edward,” she said firmly, “it is not past you. It is written on everything about you. I am no angel myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have only been trying to covering up for my parents’ desires. I am in love with another man.”

Edward felt a sudden jab in his heart. “You are?”

“Do not be deceived by the boldness I have put up all along, you must have seen how fake it is. I am telling you this because everything I have done has been recommended by your parents and mine.” She confessed.

Edward was not so surprised, He had known that no other woman would have had half the chance she had at winning his without the assistant of someone who knew him so well; his parents.

“And why are you making this confession now?” he found the courage to ask, “I am not surprised at the fact that my parents and yours put you up to this, and I have prepared myself to go along with the plan.”

“No Edward. You shall do no such thing.” She informed him, “I have learnt from you that once the heart is given to a dear one, it can never be taken from them, and even though I do not know the woman who you have committed yourself too, I shall not probe into the affair, but I will strongly stand by your solid stance not to forfeit that love.”

“Humm.” Edward sighed.

“I am in love with a man myself, I told you that earlier. And the reason why I decided to divulge this secret now is because we both plan on eloping tonight.”

How sneaky that plan was! Edward thought, “Sneaking out of town on Christmas Eve.” He nodded.

Stella’s confession liberated his mind. It had cost so much courage for them both to get that far, but even at that stage it was liberation for him to be free from the shackles of the pretentious love. What he found more joyful was the fact that Stella would be free too, to be with the man she also genuinely loved.

He walked Stella back to the apartment with a look of indifference, but when her parents came up to them, he smiled as he usually did. But he felt happy within himself, that she would be gone by the morrow. He wished her good luck and turned around to head back to his own home.

“Back home sir?” inquired the coach,

“No Matt. Take me to the Stanhopes’.”

As the carriage rode along the path, Edward was preparing his mind to die at the apartment if the Mr. Francis Stanhope refused to give up credible information that would help him connect with Agnes.

A moment later, the carriage wheel stopped and he got off the carriage and began to head to the apartment. He was at the threshold when someone sighted him from the garden and screamed.

“Mother! Look!” the child was young and handsome, but in an instant look, one could tell who he looked like.

“What is it Stark?” a distressed Agnes inquired.

She had arrived in her parents’ house to realize that they were not home. She had decided to do what she did best, while waiting for their return. She was tending to the vegetables in the garden when her son screamed.

“It is the man from my dream!” Stark insisted running towards Edward before anyone could stop him.

Edward hugged the boy as soon as he raced towards him, but he was still starkly confused about what was happening.

“Edward?” Agnes called out as soon as she made it to the threshold and found her son in the arms of his father.

“Agnes?” Edward screamed.

He raced to her with the child in his arms and hugged her despite her soiled hands.

“I have missed you so much Agnes. I have not gotten over you since you left.”

Agnes broke down into tears. She had not known the man was as expectant of her as she was of him. And even now, she was not yet certain about his social stance, but seeing the exquisite carriage showed that he had become successful.

“This is your son.” She said flatly, since there was no better way of saying it.

“My…my…son?” She needn’t say anymore, he was a complete younger version of him.

“Yes, I named him Edward.”

“Merry Christmas.” Stark said in his small amazing voice, as his father squeezed him in an embrace.

With tears in his eyes, Edward hugged his family closer. “Henceforth, we shall have the best life together.”

Agnes was in the least bothered about how the remaining days of her life would play out, but she felt on the very spire of happiness, as her family reunited.

In the days that followed, the couple would be happily married and would move to a new estate home in Mayfair.

THE END