William Monk 09 - A Breach of Promise

of what happened at Cawnpore, other times he will want to forget it. No one can know when each will be.”
    “You mean it is easier for you?” Perdita said.
    “In some ways, yes, of course it is. Not just because I have seen a battlefield …”
    “Can you tell me what it is like?” Perdita asked, eagerness and dread mixed in her voice. “So I can understand Gabriel? He won’t tell me anything about it. I was at home when he was in India, and my father wouldn’t even allow me to read about it in the newspapers. He said it was not suitable … for me or for my mother.” She bit her lip. “He said we didn’t have to know things like that, and anyway it was only a journalist’s idea of the truth and might be inaccurate and overdramatic.Now it’s too late because the newspapers are all thrown away ages ago.”
    “You can always go to the library and find the back copies, if you want to,” Hester pointed out. “But I am not sure if that would be a good thing. Do you wish to know about it … as much as can be understood by reading?”
    The fire crackled and threw up a shower of sparks.
    Perdita sat very still. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think so, then there are times when I wish it never had to be thought of again and I’m glad I know nothing.” She took a long breath and shook her head a little. “I just wish it would go away and everything could be as it used to … before the Mutiny. None of that mattered then.” She sniffed. “I could have gone out to Delhi, or Bombay, or wherever was the nearest place to where Gabriel was. I could have been with him, and none of these things would have happened!”
    “He wouldn’t have seen things like the massacre at Cawnpore,” Hester agreed. “But he would still have lost his friends, and he might still have received his own injuries. That can happen anywhere.”
    “Not in England!” Perdita said, looking up quickly.
    “Yes, it could. People can be dragged by horses, or burned by fires, or any number of other things. There isn’t anywhere where life is completely safe. And even if there were, it doesn’t matter now. The only way is forward through reality, through what we have.”
    “You make it sound so easy!” There was resentment in Perdita’s voice, and fear, and self-pity.
    “No, it isn’t,” Hester contradicted her. “It’s very difficult indeed. It’s just that there isn’t any alternative worth having. And perhaps Gabriel doesn’t want you to know about the Mutiny.”
    “You mean he thinks I’m not strong enough to bear it!” Perdita challenged. “But you are! He can talk to you about it for hours.”
    Hester took a deep breath. “I am here temporarily. In a while I shall leave again. It doesn’t matter to him what I know orwhat I think. I shall be gone after a while. And he doesn’t care so much about my feelings … beyond what courtesy dictates. I am a stranger, not part of his life.”
    Perdita’s face softened a little, a flare of hope in her eyes.
    “But if he doesn’t want me to know, if I can’t share it with him, how can I ever be of any use?” The sharp edge in her voice was fading but still discernible.
    Hester thought very carefully. “Wait a little while,” she suggested. “Feelings don’t always remain the same. He has only been home a few days. You cannot make tomorrow’s decision until tomorrow comes. I know that is hard. One wants to see the way ahead … but it is not possible.”
    Perdita sat silently for several minutes and Hester waited without interrupting.
    Eventually, Perdita stood up and straightened her dress. She seemed unaware that her hair was coming out of its pins, long, fair brown hair with a wave in it.
    “I suppose I had better go to bed. I’m terribly tired, but I can’t seem to sleep these nights.”
    “Would you like me to make you a draft?” Hester offered, rising to her feet as well. “Or a lavender pillow? Do you have one? They can help.”
    “I expect so. I think there’s one in my handkerchief drawer or in the linen.” She went to the door without looking at Hester. “I can ask Martha. Good night, Miss Latterly.”
    “Good night, Mrs. Sheldon.”
    Perdita went out and Hester heard her walk across the hall and then silence. She went out herself a few moments afterwards, and upstairs to her room. She washed quickly in cold water and went to bed. She was too tired to lie awake.
    In the morning she accomplished her usual duties for Gabriel, changing the