Read Online Heirs of Acadia - 02 - The Innocent Libertine by T. Davis Bunn - Free Book Online Page B

customary dark suit, but as she approached she saw his coat was being used as a pillow and his shoes were off. “Are you all right, sir?”
    “I shall not begin this conversation with a lie. I am unwell. I have these dreadful attacks of pain in my forehead and temples, you see. They come without warning and wreak the most awful havoc upon my hours. Then they depart, and for a day I am weak as dishwater. After this it is as though the pain had never appeared.”
    “I am so very sorry, sir.” Of course. She had heard her parents speak of the vengeance with which such attacks lay the ever-active Wilberforce low. They came, they left. There was nothing anyone could do but move softly and wait for the attack to cease. Sometimes they lasted for a few hours, other times for days. It was only as she started across the floor that she noticed the older woman in the far corner. She knitted with the calm certainty of one who had done this task for so long she scarcely needed her eyes at all. She glanced up and nodded at Abigail, then returned to her work. And said not a word.
    “I am sorry for the dark,” Wilberforce said. “It is the light, you see. I am so sensitive to the light during these weak times.”
    Weakness. Abigail bowed her head as she sat in a chair close to his. Her own weakness was there on glaring display. And now their enemies were using it to attack this good man.
    “You are sad.”
    Her head was bowed, such that her tears fell upon the hands in her lap as she nodded.
    “And I have so cherished your visits because of your joy. It hurts me to see you in such a state of sorrow.”
    This was just like the man, to be suffering himself and to have his life’s work threatened by her own errors. And all he spoke of was her happiness. Her sorrow. Her tears fell faster still.
    Wilberforce said nothing more until she managed to regain control. His voice held none of its normal strength and timbre when he said, “Life is so difficult at times, is it not? We feel so wronged. If only we could see and understand in advance just where we are headed, what lies in store. But do you know, the Scriptures say that all the Lord our God promises is to be a light unto our feet. One step at a time. Do you see? Perhaps it is not our charge to be looking further ahead than this one step, this one day.”
    “I am very, very sorry for all the trouble I have caused,” Abigail whispered.
    But Wilberforce did not seem to hear her. “Perhaps our task is to look upon this one day alone. Perhaps we must concentrate upon the one thing that is clearest in our mind and heart. This one duty. This one problem. And trust that our God can make sense of the grand scheme, the long road of days and tasks ahead.”
    “How can God make sense of all the woe and trouble I have brought?”
    “Ah. Well. Were I to be a perfect man, with all the strength and wisdom in the world, perhaps I might be able to answer that for you. As it is, I fear I am just another humble servant. I am far too aware of my own failings to condemn you for being who you are.”
    “I am such a foolish child.”
    “Indeed, we all act foolishly from time to time.” Wilberforce shifted slightly and pressed one hand to his left temple. “Would you be so kind as to pour me a glass of water?”
    “Certainly.” She then discovered it was necessary to help steady him so that he might straighten and drink.
    “Thank you, dear child.” His weary smile beckoned through the gloom. “I suppose I should stop thinking of you as such. For a child you are no longer.”
    “How can you say that, after all the damage I have caused?”
    “Tell me,” he said, again acting as though he had not heard her at all, “tell me who you are.”
    The strangeness of the question somehow drew her away from the dull pain in her heart. “Sir?”
    “Oh, I know who you were . I know the child you are no longer. Tell me now, who are you becoming? Who is the woman, this Miss Abigail Aldridge?”
    “I-I