Charming Artemis by Sarah M. Eden
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The leave-taking at Lampton Park had been more emotional than Artemis had expected. Mater had held her as closely and fiercely as she imagined her own mother would have. Sorrel had insisted she come visit soon. Philip, whose dandified absurdity had subsided a bit, had told her in tones of utter sincerity how pleased he was that his father’s Princess had found her way home. She had cried at that; she couldn’t help herself.
The journey home to Brier Hill would require a few days, just as the journey from there had. They stopped at the same inn their first night at which they’d taken supper in their room during their journey to Lampton Park. The proprietress recognized them and welcomed them back, offering a dinner tray without the request needing to be made.
They talked of both significant and unimportant things as they enjoyed the hardy repast. They were far more at ease with each other than they’d been on their previous stay in this very room.
After the tray had been fetched and the candles lit, Artemis settled beside Charlie on the bench, leaning into his embrace. It was a posture they assumed often, one of comfort and caring and tenderness.
“Do you think Papa would be pleased to know we’ve found each other?” Artemis’s thoughts often turned to him.
“I think he would be ecstatic.” Charlie pulled her in more closely, then popped his bare feet onto the ottoman placed there for that purpose. She had discovered he liked having his shoes off. It was an endearing oddity in him, one she found she didn’t mind, no matter that it wasn’t particularly fashionable. “Linus gave me the letters Mater entrusted to him, the ones that you weren’t ready to read when he tried to give them to you. I think you should read them, Artie.”
She curled against him. “Who wrote them?” Linus had offered his theory on the matter. She was ready to know for certain.
“Your Papa.”
She had suspected as much. “To whom?”
“They are addressed to ‘My Princess.’ Mater never knew to whom they ought to be given, but she kept them safe on the off chance that someday she would discover the identity of the little girl he’d told her of.”
“He wrote to me.” The truth of it warmed her through.
“My father was a prolific letter writer. I don’t think any of us were truly surprised that he’d written and left us letters as his last gesture of love.”
She remembered so well how much Charlie had struggled with his father’s offering to him. “Have you read yours yet, Charlie?”
“I haven’t.” He didn’t sound as heartbroken as he had the day the will had been read.
She sat upright. “I will read Papa’s letters to me if you will read your father’s letter to you.”
He set his fingers beneath her chin and softly kissed her. “You are good for me, Artemis Jonquil.”
“We are good for each other.”
Charlie retrieved her letters from his traveling bag while she pulled from hers the letter and book his father had left him. They resumed their spots on the bench and exchanged their precious handfuls.
She held the small stack, brushing her fingers over the faded ink. Each was, indeed, addressed simply to “My Princess.” She had wondered for years if he had forgotten her. Though her heart still grieved, there was comfort in knowing he had thought of her.
With a breath of determination, she untied the bundle and broke the seal on the first letter.
My Princess,
My heart is worried for you, and I don’t know what to do other than write you a letter, one you may never read. Did your scraped knee heal? Have your sisters lost track of you again? Has your father shown you the attention and love you need?
I have spent the day playing games with my boys and have repeatedly imagined you here with them. We have a dear neighbor girl, Arabella, who is not much older than you are. She would be a wonderful playmate for you and count herself as another sister in your life. I would see to it you had all the sweets you wanted, though my beloved wife would scold me for it.
I know not how to learn your name or where you live without raising an alarm in your family and neighbors. Without knowing your name or address, I don’t know how to help you.
When next I pass through Heathbrook, I will look for you again. If the heavens are kind, I will see you there, and you will call me Papa again, and I will feel comforted to see that my Princess is well.
All my love,
Your Papa
This must have been written after their initial meeting. He’d been so kind and, as his words testified, had loved her already, just as she had him. She had been thought of and cherished from the very beginning.
She broke the next seal and found not merely another letter but also a length of dark-teal ribbon inside.
My Princess,
I found you again. I hope I adequately expressed to you my joy at seeing you and the way my heart burst to see your head of golden curls bouncing as you ran toward me. I wasn’t at all certain you remembered me.
How tempted I was to ask you your name so I could find your home, but I feared your family would be alarmed and would not permit me to see you again. I am not known to them, and I hope they are protective enough of you to be concerned, no matter that they need not be.
You wore the same dress today as the last time I saw you. Though you were clean and your clothes in good repair, I could tell the dress was thread-worn and faded, likely worn by an older sister before you. I asked my friend Digby what color ribbon would give a splash of complimentary color to a dress of faded pink. He suggested this shade of bluish-green, and his opinion on such matters is to be trusted.
If you lived closer to me, I would invite you to have picnics near our river with my sons and my wife and me. You and my littlest, Charlie, are the same age, I would wager. He is often lonely. I wish I could introduce the two of you, as I suspect you are as lonely as he.
I continue to think of and pray for you. I hope someone is looking after you and helping you feel safe.
All my love,
Your Papa
She rested the ribbon across her lap as she read his next letter.
My Princess,
A few very careful inquiries have led me to discover that you do not live in Heathbrook but somewhere in the surrounding area. That will make finding you all the more difficult.
I saw you again when last I was there. How I wish I didn’t live so far away. My friend Digby has agreed to watch for you as well whenever he passes through your area. I have assured him your profuse golden curls are unmistakable. I hope that should you make his acquaintance, you will know that you can trust him.
I have vowed to always have peppermints with me when I pass through Heathbrook now that I know you like them as much as I do. My Charlie enjoys them as well. I wish I could introduce the two of you.
I continue to think of and pray for you.
All my love,
Your Papa
Artemis swallowed against the thickness in her throat.
Charlie’s arm slipped around her, pulling her attention to him.
“You’re crying,” he said.
She pressed the last remaining letter to her heart. “I am so grateful he wrote these. And he has mentioned you more than once.”
“He has?”
She nodded. “He said he wished he could introduce us because he was certain we would be fond of each other.”
Charlie kissed her forehead. “He was not wrong.”
“Have you read his letter to you?” she asked.
“Not yet.”
“You should,” she said. “It is not as sad as I was afraid it would be.”
He kept his arm around her, holding her tenderly. “You finish yours, and then I will read mine.”
She leaned her head against him and read the final letter out loud.
“My Princess,
“I am not one for premonitions, but I do have a good memory. I recall clearly the ways in which my father was unwell at the end of his life and recognize in myself those same ailments. I fear I will not see you again.”
She swallowed against the emotion in her throat but pressed on.
“I am writing you a final letter, as I cannot bear to leave you out of my efforts on that score. As I have wrestled with the worries I have for you, in recent days, I have felt an undeniable peace where you are concerned. It is my hope, my belief, that the heavens have seen fit to send into your life someone who will look after you and care about you and see to it you are not neglected or overlooked.
“If I am, indeed, not long for this world, and if the heavens permit the departed to influence the lives of those they have left behind, I intend to do what I can to see to it your path crosses with my family’s. I wish for you to know them and for them to know you. I would love nothing more than to have my Princess be part of my family.
“I have told Julia, my wife, about you and my name for you. I have full faith that she will remember, and should the miracle I hope for occur, she will give you my letters.
“Know that I love you, my sweet girl, my darling Princess.
“Always and always.
“All my love,
“Your Papa”
Artemis let the letter rest on her lap. She closed her eyes, both fighting the sorrow of his loss and allowing the beauty of his words to wash over her.
Charlie held her ever more tightly. “He managed his miracle, didn’t he?” he whispered.
“He did. He brought us together, though he had to practically knock our heads together to manage it.”
“Almost literally.” A hint of a laugh touched Charlie’s words. “I find myself harboring a suspicion that he tripped us up at the ball in London, managing to force that spill of raspberry shrub.”
“Perhaps I was wrong,” she said. “It wasn’t an accident after all.”
“I rather like that possibility.”
She tucked her feet up beside her and, opening her eyes, set her precious letters on the side table before curling cozily into Charlie’s embrace. “It is your turn to read your letter. Though whether you do so aloud or not, I leave to you.”
“My dear, if he went to so much trouble to bring the two of us together, I think I would be risking heavenly retribution if I didn’t include you in the reading of his letter to me.”
She set her arms around him, offering what support she could.
He took up his letter from his father and, with hands she felt certain were shaking, broke the seal.
“Dearest Charlie,
“I am struggling to imagine you as a gentleman grown, yet I know you will be precisely that by the time you read this. At the moment, you are all of seven years old, fond of any and every lark you can imagine, running about the Park with the exuberance of a carefree and delightful little boy. We have had some remarkable adventures together while your brothers were away at school. I’ve not had so ready and adventurous a playmate since the days I ran about this same estate with your uncle Stanley and your mother.
“Your brothers are old enough that should my evaluation of the current state of my health prove accurate, they will retain memories of me even years from now, but I suspect you will have few. I have spent many long hours pondering that, trying to ascertain a solution.
“I have settled upon this, Charlie.
“In the journal you have been given, you will find page after page of my memories, aspects of my character, things I am fond of, things I do not care for, adventures I have had. You will find reminiscences from when I was a child and my siblings and your mother’s were still living. You will also find recountings of adventures I have had in the years since I was married and as each of you boys was born. I have also included some of my favorite memories of time spent with you. I will continue writing in it even after I finish this letter. I mean to fill it with everything I can so that I will not be a stranger to you.
“But more important than that, I want to make certain you know that I love you. That I love you with all of my heart.
“I worry that you will doubt that. If you ever do, if you ever wonder, read these words until you are certain.
“I love you, Charlie.
“I love you.
“This family loves you and loves each other. Embrace them. Let them embrace you. You need never be lonely, my Charlie.
“Be good to your mother. Look after her happiness.
“Be happy yourself.
“All my love,
“Father”
Charlie set his letter atop the very book his father had referenced. Artemis offered to him the handkerchief her Papa, his father, had given her fifteen years earlier. He wiped at the tears trickling down his cheeks. He was sad, yes, but he also appeared touched and reassured.
“We should read the journal together,” she said. “A little at a time. I would like to know him better as well.”
“We could take turns,” he suggested.
She nodded.
He took up the book. The spine creaked a little when he opened it, testament to how long it had waited to be read.
“‘I grew up at Lampton Park,’” Charlie read aloud, “‘and my best friend, Stanley, grew up at Farland Meadows. We often met at the Trent to plan what we felt were grand adventures . . .’”
Artemis sat in Charlie’s arms, listening as he read stories of the remarkable gentleman who had loved them both. Life had offered so many disappointments, so many heartaches, yet she could not deny it had brought her miracles as well.
Just as her Papa had hoped, someone had come into her life very soon after he had been taken from her, someone he had helped to raise. Adam had married Persephone, and from that moment forward, she had been granted a fierce advocate, though she’d not always appreciated him. Adam’s connection to Papa and Mater had brought Artemis to the house party at which she’d first met Charlie. And though they had joked about it, she was unwilling to discount the possibility of fate intervening to force them together when their own stubbornness and pride had kept them apart.
I would love nothing more than to have my Princess be part of my family.
And now she was. After a lifetime of searching for what felt out of reach, she finally was.
