So we reach the end of the road. It's the last part of this fic and I want to thank you all for following this fic and leaving such wonderful feedback. I had a lot of trouble writing this fic so it's very gratifying to see that people actually like it.
And now that I've finished this fic, I will be turning my attention to my other fics. I am writing two new fics for the September author auction winners - A Dreamer fic called Maxevanssucks.com and a candy fic called The frog prince. Lookfor them before the end of the year. In the mean time, I will have a new chapter of Gold Diggers up soon and I will complete Crush.
Once again, thank you all for reading.
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April
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Girl_afraid I hope you liked it.
My
evil wonderful beta wanted me to split this chapter up to torture you all but I've decided to post it all in one go. Enjoy.
April 1863
“Very nice, Maria,” Mr. Guido said with a smile.
Maria glowed with satisfaction, it was rare to receive praise from the music teacher and a smile was rarer still. She had just completed a difficult piece of music which she had been practicing for a number of weeks and was enjoying the sense of accomplishment that came with a successful performance.
Never one to allow students to rest on their laurels, Mr. Guido produced new sheet music with a flourish. “Now I have something a little different for you. It’s a new piece by Mr. William Darden.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Maria enthused. She was a great admirer of the young composer’s work and was excited to have a new piece of his to learn. She accepted the sheet music and looked it over.
“I have some news for you,” Guido said to her, as she half listened. “Mr. Darden, as you may know, is the son of a family friend. He will be in Boston next week and I have invited him to stay here, which he has gratefully accepted. I have spoken to him about you and he looks forward to hearing you play.”
“Me? What?” Maria’s heart thumped loudly, thrilled at the prospect of meeting the composer and hearing him play and terrified at the thought of
him listening to
her play. “No, oh no, Mr. Guido, I could not play for him.”
“Nonsense! You are my star pupil and you must. I will not hear another word about it.”
And so, a week later, Maria found herself being introduced to Mr. William Darden. She was so nervous and excited that she was blushing and stammering. When she went to sit at the piano, she kicked the stool over and then spilled her music onto the floor. She cringed in embarrassment, expecting Mr. Darden to laugh at her. Instead he restored the stool to its upright position, gathered her music and put it back in the right order and smiled at her in a friendly manner. “Do not be afraid, Miss Evans. I will not bite.”
Maria flushed and looked away. Something in the way he was looking at her made her nervous. Once she was finally ready, she began to play. As she played, Mr. Darden prowled slowly around the piano, never taking his eyes from her. She tried to ignore him and concentrate on the music. When she finished playing, he burst into rapturous applause.
“Miss Evans, you play beautifully,” Mr. Darden smiled. “In fact, that may be my most favorite rendition I have ever heard of any of my pieces.”
“Thank you,” Maria blushed.
“Do you know
‘In the garden’?” he asked, referring to his famous tune.
“Of course, it is one of my favorites.”
“I would be honored if you would play it for me, and allow me to accompany you with my violin.”
Maria nodded happily. “That would be just wonderful.”
The afternoon passed quickly. Maria, Mr. Darden, and occasionally Mr. Guido played a number of songs together. Mr. Darden played a couple of his new songs for them and solicited their advice on a part he was having difficulty with.
When Maria was leaving, he took her hand in his and looked deep into her eyes. “We make beautiful music together, Miss Evans.”
As she made her way home, Maria realized that for the first time in a long time, she had been had spent an entire afternoon without thinking of Michael.
July 1863
Gettysburg.
The very named chilled her to the bones.
It was where Michael was. And Max, and Alexander Whitman and thousands of their boys. There had been so much bloodshed in those few days. News trickled to them from all corners of the horrifying loss of life on both sides.
The newspapers were black with the list of names of the dead, the names of those who would never come home. With trembling fingers, Maria would scour those lists, praying not to see his name.
But his name was not on the lists of the dead. Instead it appeared in other reports. Isabel would gasp and push something under Maria’s nose, stabbing frantically at his name. Michael was covering himself with glory in the South.
He had not written to her at all since his visit to Boston. Not that Maria had expected it, Michel had not written after her mother had found out. Mrs. O’Leary and the occasional mention in a newspaper was all the comfort she had now.
October 1863
Summer came and went, Autumn came in, full of color, the tide of war turned in favor of the Union forces. The family prayed nightly for a swift conclusion to the war and the safe return of their loved ones.
As usual, Jeffrey Evans was the center of the Evans’ family’s attention. His mother complained that he was the most spoiled child in all of Christendom. Although she blamed his indulgent grandmothers and doting aunts, she was the worst culprit herself.
“Just wait until your father comes home and puts manners on you,” Liz would threaten Jeffrey, to the great amusement of her sisters-in-law who could not imagine their gentle brother ‘putting manners’ on anybody.
In an effort to deal with her grief at losing Kyle, Tess spent a lot of time playing with Jeffrey and was by far his preferred playmate. While the others were always happy to supply tickles and cuddles, Tess would crawl on her hands and knees, climb over and under furniture and do the hundred other little things on Jeffrey’s whim.
Isabel was following the progress of the war avidly and would spend hours pouring over reports from the front. She would take out her father’s books to gain a better understating of war tactics and the geography of battle sites. According to Philip, Isabel was more informed than the generals who were actually fighting the war.
For Liz, most of her time was taken up with Jeffrey, and although Max was constantly on her mind, she was able to keep her spirits up thanks to her son. When not focused on Jeffrey, Liz was usually sewing or knitting. She organized several sewing circles for the war effort. Every sock she knitted was for Max, every bandage, every shirt; it was all for Max. It helped her to keep going.
Each in her own small, quiet way passed the time as she waited; Liz and Isabel for their men to come home so that they could finally start their lives; Tess for the pain of losing Kyle to subside.
Maria, too, was waiting, but for what? She spent time with her family, listening to Tess as she talked about Kyle, helping Liz to take care of Jeffrey, giving Isabel an audience as she talked about the war. She continued to go to visit Mrs. O’Leary and to attend music lessons.
William Darden had become a frequent visitor to the house and he always brought something interesting for her. It was clear that he had his eye firmly on Maria which was something that thrilled Diane no end. The Darden family was wealthy and well connected. William had made a name for himself as a musician and composer. He was the sort of suitable man that Diane wanted for her daughter.
Maria tried, she really did. William was handsome and charming, he was a talented musician and she loved listening to him play. When Maria was with him, just talking or playing music together, she was happy and not thinking of Michael. But when William was gone away, her thoughts always returned to Michael and very rarely to Mr. Darden.
“You are comfortable with him, have much in common and have built a good friendship with each other. Many marriages have been made on less Maria,” Diane informed her daughter as they sat by the fire one afternoon.
“Yes, mother,” Maria nodded. “All the same… If he made an offer, I would not accept it.”
Diane sighed. “Do you intend to remain unmarried Maria?”
Maria didn’t answer, she picked at a loose thread on the sewing in her lap. “I suppose, yes.”
“And if Mr. Guerin were to make an offer?” Diane prompted.
“He won’t,” Maria answered dully.
“Did you and he ever discuss marriage?”
Maria shook her head. “No, we both knew it was hopeless. I knew it was hopeless.”
“Do you think that Michael will ever marry?”
A flash of pain crossed Maria’s face. “I hope so. He lost his whole family when he was so young and I know that he would love a family. He deserves that at least. I wish only happiness for him.”
Diane took her daughter’s hand “But not for yourself?”
Maria gave her a small smile. “I am happy.”
Her mother really wished that she could believe that, but it had been evident to her for a long time that Maria was not happy.
January, 1864
A year had passed since Kyle Valenti had been reported missing, presumed dead. Tess, who had become more like her old self as time had passed, went quiet again as she marked the first anniversary of his passing.
Max had made it home over the Christmas period and that had lifted the spirits of the whole household. Roswell Hall was a cheerier place when its first son was under its roof. Jeffrey had shied away from him at first, but soon they were inseparable. Max had spent a lot of time surrounded by the dying and seriously wounded. His spirits had been very low when he came back to Boston. But after spending a few days basking in his son’s love and innocence, the change in him was visible and he went back to the South with a renewed vigor and sense of purpose.
Maria had still no word from Michael. Max had seen him several times over the year, but he had no message or letter for her. Maria had interrogated him, at length, about Michael. She wanted to know everything he had said, how he had looked, had he said anything about her. All Max could say was that Michael had not mentioned her once.
Towards the end of the month, they received word that Alexander Whitman had been injured in a skirmish. He needed to have his left foot amputated. After spending a week in a field hospital in Virginia, he was sent home to Boston and into the waiting arms of his delighted fiancée.
Though he was injured, Alex was in good spirits. He was at home and Isabel was nursing him.
Isabel was eager to be married as soon as possible and would have demanded a bedside wedding if Alex had agreed. He, however, wanted to wait until he was able to stand at the top of his aisle and walk into his home with his new wife on his arm. Reluctantly, the bride-to-be agreed to wait.
June, 1864
Maria pressed her forehead against the window pane and closed her eyes to let William Darden’s haunting, slow, melody wash over her. It was as if he had written her feelings down on sheet music and was playing the notes; her loneliness, her longing for Michael, the hopelessness she felt.
The tune came to an end as a tear trickled down her cheek. Maria brushed it away and turned to William with a smile and clapped her hands. “That was beautiful, I think it’s your best yet.”
“Thank you,” William smiled. He laid his violin down carefully and sat beside her on the window seat. He took a deep breath. “I have some news. I will be travelling to Europe in the autumn for a tour. I will be playing in Paris, Vienna and London. I won’t be back until January.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Maria said wistfully. “I shall miss you of course.”
To her surprise, William reached for her hand and held it in his own. “You don’t have to miss me. You could come with me, Maria.”
“Oh….” Maria had been half expecting a proposal from him, though she had been very careful not to give him any false impression. Now it was here and she had no idea how to respond. He was a good friend, one of her closest. He was kind and charming, and he loved her. He had so much in common with her. Her parents approved of the match. She knew that they could build a stable marriage together. And if she were married, then perhaps Michael would move on and find somebody else too. Though the thought disturbed her more than anything, it was what she wanted for him.
The logical decision was to say yes, to move on from the impossible situation with Michael and find a way to be happy without him.
“Maria?” William prompted.
Then an image of Michael flooded Maria’s mind and she felt another hot tear tickle her eyes.
“I can’t William, I’m sorry.”
He released her hand and stood up. “Very well. I should go,” he said sadly.
Maria waited until he had gone before letting her tears fall. She knew then that she was destined to a life alone.
September, 1864
“To Alex and Isabel.”
The wedding guests raised their glasses and echoed Charles Whitman’s toast as the happy couple exchanged a loving kiss.
For Isabel’s three sisters it was a bittersweet moment. They were all delighted to see Isabel and Alex become husband and wife, but occasions such as this always made them think of the missing parts of their own lives.
The weight of absent friends hung in the air, but everybody was determined to enjoy the day. Max had written a week earlier to say that he might be able to come home for the wedding, but he hadn’t arrived.
Isabel caught their eyes and smiled at them, letting them know that she understood what they were going through. Tess, Maria and Liz smiled back and shook off their own self-pity and got into the festivities, they didn’t want anything to bring down Isabel and Alex’s special day.
So they laughed and danced and in the end, they all had a great time; for just a few hours forgetting all about the war. Finally it was time for the Evans family to go home and leave the new Mrs. Whitman behind. There was a lot of tears and hugs then and Alex was beginning to worry that Isabel would decide to leave with her sisters and parents. Thankfully Diane stepped in and separated the girls and ushered her own brood out the door.
The next morning as they were eating their first breakfast without Isabel, a servant delivered a note to Philip. He read it quickly and paled.
“Come,” he told the three girls before hurrying out of the dining room. Confused, Maria, Tess and Liz hurried after him. He ushered them into a carriage and they set off at a brisk pace.
“Father, what is it?” Maria demanded.
Philip turned to Tess who was sitting beside him. “That note was from James Valenti. He said that Kyle is home but he is gravely ill. Max is with him.”
He was immediately bombarded with questions but he had no more answers for them. It felt like hours before the carriage finally reached the Valenti home, and Tess jumped out even before it had completely rolled to a stop.
She pounded at the door and Maria feared she would have broken it down if the butler had taken any longer. Tess didn’t give the man a chance to speak but burst past him and ran up the sweeping staircase. Maria and Liz hurried after her, trying to calm her down.
There was a great deal of activity happening in one room and that was where Tess headed, with her sisters on her heels.
When Liz and Maria caught up with Tess, she was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, her mouth wide open in a silent scream of horror. Maria followed her gaze and clapped her hand over her own mouth to stifle the oath on her tongue.
There were a number of people gathered around the bed. Kyle Valenti was lying in the bed. At least, he bore a passing resemblance to the Kyle Valenti they once knew.
The man in the bed was so emaciated that he barely resembled a man anymore. His beard was overgrown and matted, his face sunken and aged. His body was barely a crease in the blanket that covered him.
James Valenti stood beside the bed with tears streaming down his face. He looked like he wanted to cradle his son is his arms but was too afraid to touch him, in case Kyle should shatter in his arms.
Tess stepped closer to the bed. She too was in tears and her whole body was trembling. Very gingerly, she took his hand in her own and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Welcome home, Kyle,” she whispered.
“Excuse me,” an older man said kindly. “I really need to examine the patient now Can you clear the room?”
Reluctantly, Tess allowed Liz and Maria to lead her out of the room and down the stairs to the drawing room.
It was only as they descended the staircase that Liz even realized that Max had been in the room with Kyle and had followed them out.
In the drawing room, Tess began to sob, drawing in huge breaths of air as if she couldn’t breathe. Maria rubbed circles on her back and made soothing noises until Tess was finally able to calm down.
Liz rushed into Max’s arms and they embraced tightly, only pulling apart when a servant brought in food for Max.
“What happened to Kyle?” Liz asked.
Between wolf-sized bites Max explained. “Kyle was in a prisoner of war camp in Andersonville. We exchanged prisoners a few days ago and Kyle was one of the soldiers who were released.”
“Were all the soldiers who were released in the same condition as Kyle?” Liz asked, horrified.
Max paused for a moment, a haunted look crossed his face before he nodded, just once.
“How can they treat people like that?” Tess cried. “How could they do that to Kyle?”
“Will he… recover?” Maria asked.
“Doctor Fenton is a skilled doctor and something of an expert in the field. Kyle is in good hands,” Max answered. “It will be a tough road for him and he may never recover fully. But he’s alive and he’s home, and we must be thankful for that.”
“Yes, indeed, we have a lot to be thankful for,” Philip agreed. His eyes ran over Max. While Max was thin and hungry, he was healthy and vital still and not a barely breathing skeleton like Kyle was. For that, he was immensely grateful.
“Isabel and Alex were married yesterday,” Maria said suddenly. “Alex is doing remarkably well. The doctors were so surprised but we weren’t, we knew Isabel would whip him into shape.”
Max laughed. “Good. And Jeffrey?”
“He’s wonderful Max, he will be so happy to see you,” Liz smiled. “Are you staying long?”
“I have to leave tonight,” Max said sadly. “My leave started last week, but I couldn’t come sooner as Kyle was too ill to move.” He took Liz’s hand in his larger one and kissed it. “But the tide is turning; soon we will all be home for good.”
June, 1865
Max was right.
The tide had turned in the Union’s favor. Atlanta fell shortly after he returned to the fighting.
Jeffrey Parker made the trip North to Boston, older and smaller than a man of his years should be. He was reunited with his wife and daughter. Though he had lost all his material possessions in the war, he was able to smile when he looked down at his grandson and namesake for the first time.
Kyle made slow but steady progress back to health with Tess nursing him all the way. They married in a simple ceremony in January of the New Year.
Isabel found that she was with child in February and they were all optimistic that this child would be born into a time of peace.
On April ninth, the South surrendered and the war was over.
Max was home in Boston within a week, reunited for good with his wife and son. They settled into a home of their own to finally be a family, living under one roof.
Philip had given Jeffrey Parker a loan and was helping him to get back on his feet. Jeffrey and Nancy decided to take rooms in town close to Max and Liz.
And so Maria found herself living alone with her parents. Her sisters and brother were beginning their new lives, and Maria endeavored to give them the space and time to find their bearings. She was still devoting a lot of time to music, but lately, she was finding her interest in it was waning.
She waited for word of Michael, for his return but there was no sign. He was alive, that she much she knew. Isabel had showed her an article about Michael receiving some kind of military honor.
William Darden had returned from Europe with a French wife. She saw a little of him now and again. She still visited Mrs. O’Leary, but the old woman had her hands full now with all her boys who had returned with broken bodies and broken spirits. A couple of times a week, Maria volunteered at one of the hospitals where the injured soldiers were being treated.
The days stretched before her, long and empty. Was this how the rest of her life would be? This was the decision she had made. She had just never realized how lonely she would be.
“Have you heard from Michael?” Liz asked one day as they played with little Jeffrey in the garden of Liz and Max’s new house.
Maria shook her head, “I had wondered if perhaps Max had?”
“Not recently, just that letter when Max got home.” Liz reached across and hugged Maria. “I worry about you.”
“There’s no need, I am fine Liz,” Maria retorted.
“You always seem so sad,” Liz sighed.
There was no answer for that so Maria said nothing. As she made her way home, she resolved to stop giving her family reasons to worry about her. They had so much of their own troubles to worry about without adding to it. From now on, she would be happy and smiling and wouldn’t let them see the sadness inside.
When she arrived home, she entered with a smile on her face and a happy greeting on her lips.
“You are in good spirits,” Diane commented as she met her daughter in the hallway. “Your father wishes to speak to you in the music room.”
“Really?” Maria racked her brain trying to work out why he would want to speak to her there. “What about?”
“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about. I think you’ll like it,” Diane smiled. “Don’t keep him waiting.”
Maria took a step in the direction of the music room when Diane placed a hand on her arm and stopped her. When Maria turned back, Diane engulfed her in her arms and kissed her cheek before giving her a gentle push to get going.
For some reason, Maria was nervous as she approached the music room and even knocked on the door before entering. As the music room had been generally accepted as her domain for years, it was a strange act on her part and Philip’s confusion showed when he opened the door to her.
“Come in.”
“Mother said you wanted to speak to….” Maria’s sentence trailed off as she laid eyes on the other occupant in the room.
Michael Guerin was standing by the window. He looked older than he had the last time she saw him, more tired. But when he saw her, his whole face lit up and she was reminded of the boy she had met so many years ago when she had given him a toy soldier for Christmas. He was dressed in full uniform, a row of gleaming medals on his chest. He looked polished and distinguished.
“I will leave you to talk,” Philip told them. He leaned down and kissed his daughter’s cheek and whispered in her ear. “Be happy.”
Maria looked at him in surprise, but he simply winked at her and slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. She looked to Michael for an explanation.
For a moment he was silent, drinking in the sight of her. Then in three long strides, he crossed the room and took her in his arms. He cupped her face and kissed her with an almost bruising force. Maria clung to him, holding him close, not willing to let him go.
Eventually he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, with just the smallest distance between their lips.
“I missed you,” he breathed.
“Where have you been?” she asked tearfully.
“I had to report to Washington. I have been appointed to a post there.”
Maria pulled away and looked at him, horrified. “You’re leaving Boston? For good?”
“For now.” He pulled her close again. “Maria, I cannot say what the future holds for me. I have a position in the military and I hope to progress. I will never be able to provide for you in the manner you are accustomed to but I believe-”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” Maria broke in.
“Yes.”
“With my parent’s permission?” she asked incredulously.
Michael laughed. “Yes.” He produced a letter from his pocket and Maria immediately recognized her father’s writing. “It’s from your father, he invited me here. He offered me a job, a good job, in his company. He said that thousands of people had sacrificed their lives and their happiness to bring freedom and equality to this country and he was determined to do his part. We are all entitled to be happy, Maria, and that is what he wants for you more than anything else. I want to make you happy, Maria. If you wish, I will take the job your father has offered me.”
“Would that make you happy?”
He smiled. “I am not a clerk or a paper pusher, I am a plain old soldier.”
“So we will go to Washington,” Maria decided. “And be happy together there.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him hard and long.
It was a long time before they left the music room in each other’s arms, smiling and happy and ready to start their lives together.
***