“Don’t cry, Maudie,” Frede said. “Mamma can fix it. She can fix anything.”
Annie and Maud pulled apart and quietly laughed. “I don’t know if I can fix this, dear one,” Aunt Annie said. “But I am happy that you think I can.”
Frede sat down between the two women.
“I’m not sure this is a story for young ears,” Annie said, twisting Frede’s braid with her index finger.
“I’m not young. I’m eight years old.” Frede held up four fingers on each hand.
Maud hugged her. “You definitely have an old soul, dear Frede.”
Perhaps because there were young ears present, old soul or not, Annie took her time answering. “They were caught together, alone. He had taken her on a buggy ride, and my brother John Franklin found them driving back. You know how people talk—”
Maud knew all too well.
“Being alone with someone—particularly someone my father, your grandfather, didn’t approve of—well, it was decided that they should marry quickly to save your mother’s reputation, and before Father could say anything in protest.”
“So they did elope.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Two years ago.” Maud caressed Frede’s cheek. “Mollie and I heard Mrs. Simpson say something at one of the prayer meetings.”
“Gossip in church.” Annie frowned. “But there was talk…and Clara would never confirm to me if she had allowed things to get out of hand.”
Everything went still. Was it possible? Somehow she knew. If she took a moment and counted back from the month of her birth, November, to the month her parents married, March, it was indeed possible. Mother would have had to have been pregnant almost immediately. Such things were possible, but…
“Maud,” Aunt Annie said. “It was never clear what happened. Your mother loved your father very much, and they loved you very much.”
Maud knew Aunt Annie was trying to take back what she hadn’t said, what no one ever said.
Aunt Annie breathed deeply. She was in her own story now. “When Clara died, your grandmother became quite ill. A complication because of influenza. It almost killed her.”
Maud had a hard time imagining her strong, stoic grandma ill.
“One night she actually lost consciousness, and we believed she had died.”
“Why haven’t I heard this before?”
“It’s hard to talk about these things, Maud. The past is the past.”
“But our family is always telling stories of the past. It is what we do.”
“True.” Annie laughed. “But there are stories of the past everyone wishes to bury, or allow to fade away like the edges of the Island.”
Like what had happened with her parents.
“How did she get better?”
“I don’t quite know. I suspect that one day she decided to. Emily was perhaps eighteen or nineteen and she was taking care of you. Maybe a part of my mother knew she had things to do.”
“I don’t think Grandma loves me.” Maud thought of what Aunt Emily had said. “I’m only a duty to her.”
“Lucy Maud Montgomery, don’t you ever speak such nonsense again!” Aunt Annie said, tearing up. “My mother…” She took a deep breath. “My mother loves you. It is hard for her to see Clara’s eyes staring back at her—”
“I have my father’s eyes,” Maud interrupted.
“You might have your father’s shape, but the coloring is all hers, your complexion. I know it is hard for you to imagine, but you are so similar—all romantic and emotional. Clara enjoyed poetry too. I don’t think Grandma even knows this consciously, but I truly believe you are the reason she decided to get better. That is how much she loves you.”
Cradled by her aunt, with Frede snuggled in between them, Maud wept for all the lies she had believed, and the truths she had never known.
CAVENDISH, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND JUNE 1892
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I am a part of all that I have met,” Maud read Tennyson’s “Ulysses” aloud. On this beautiful June day, with the soft wind mingling with the sea air and the lupines in full bloom, cradling the Island in a rainbow of color, it was easy to feel a part of the land. Back in Cavendish, Maud was minding the post office for her grandparents, who had gone next door to conduct some business with Uncle John Franklin.
Truthfully, as much as Maud loved the laughter and lightness of Park Corner, she was happy to be home. Cavendish called to her, across miles of prairie, arboreal hills, and vast oceans. It was as much a part of her as her family’s history and her favorite books.
After a few days back, Maud had found her rhythm. She was happy to reunite with her friends. She knew that their friendship would never again be as it was when they were young, but she was grateful that they could still do things together. Pensie had told Maud that she’d finally given Quill her answer and—to Maud’s surprise—had refused him. She said she wanted someone who could know his own mind, whose self-doubts didn’t make him petty. One day she would find someone, and only then would she cross that threshold.
Other things were changing too. When Maud had gone by the schoolhouse on her first day back, Miss Gordon told her she would be leaving Cavendish at the end of the summer to move to Oregon with family. The idea of it was almost too much to bear. No one had ever supported and cared about her ambitions more than Miss Gordon.
Maud’s grandparents were also giving her more responsibility in the post office. This meant that Maud could keep watch for rejection letters—and, sadly, there were ever so many. The short story based on the blue chest had been rejected, but she would keep going. It was her calling.
Letters from Prince Albert continued to arrive every few weeks. She even heard from Father, who included a picture Katie had drawn for her. She wished that Katie could read; then Maud would write her sister her own special letter, without having to worry about others reading it. Maud could send it to Father, but she wasn’t sure if Mrs. Montgomery would see it. Father wrote that he and Mrs. Montgomery were now working as wardens in the local jails—and that she had another brother. “You’ll have to come and meet him,” he wrote. But Maud knew that it would be years—if ever—until they met.
Maud ached with such a primal, deep urge to see Laura and Will. But the only way would be to marry Will or live with Father, and neither felt right. Marrying him would have made things so easy, but she wanted more.