The Other Sister, Part 11
Title: Proven Guilty
Rated: T
Edith/Various
(300) word ficlet, Part 11 of The Other Sister series
Edith listlessly pushed the food on her plate around with her fork. She felt terribly guilty that she’d burst into the kitchen earlier demanding an extra meal, and she’d so far only managed to eat a meagre amount
Another wave of guilt washed over her when she looked across the table to her husband. Confession, they said, was good for the soul. “When I came home... I thought you and Mary...” She didn’t elaborate any further. There was no need; Tom’s frown suggested he’d guessed her suspicions.
“I won’t even justify that idea with a defensive comment,” he said shortly before he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth.
With a sigh, she lowered her cutlery with an undignified clatter.
“Do you think Father Michael would hear my confession?” she asked hesitantly.
He swallowed before replying. “Of course he would. You’re Catholic now. Thanks to Mrs Levinson.”
Her maternal grandmother had been the one to reassure her when she’d written in regards to her concerns on the subject of religion. Martha had pointed out that Cora had been Jewish, and had become loyal to the Church of England only to marry father and claim the Grantham title.
“I wonder if he’ll forgive me,” she mused in a soft voice.
“Once you attend confession, God will--"
“I didn’t mean God,” she interrupted. She then made a feeble attempt at smiling for her husband’s sake when she realised bitterness had crept into her tone. “I meant Sir Anthony.”
Tom took a deep breath. “Strallan left you at the altar, Edith. If anyone should be seeking forgiveness, it’s him.”
“I need him to forgive me for giving up so easily.”
Tom pushed his plate towards the centre of the table. “Do you still love him?”
She blinked away tears. “I don’t know.”
Rated: T
Edith/Various
(300) word ficlet, Part 11 of The Other Sister series
Edith listlessly pushed the food on her plate around with her fork. She felt terribly guilty that she’d burst into the kitchen earlier demanding an extra meal, and she’d so far only managed to eat a meagre amount
Another wave of guilt washed over her when she looked across the table to her husband. Confession, they said, was good for the soul. “When I came home... I thought you and Mary...” She didn’t elaborate any further. There was no need; Tom’s frown suggested he’d guessed her suspicions.
“I won’t even justify that idea with a defensive comment,” he said shortly before he shoved another forkful of food into his mouth.
With a sigh, she lowered her cutlery with an undignified clatter.
“Do you think Father Michael would hear my confession?” she asked hesitantly.
He swallowed before replying. “Of course he would. You’re Catholic now. Thanks to Mrs Levinson.”
Her maternal grandmother had been the one to reassure her when she’d written in regards to her concerns on the subject of religion. Martha had pointed out that Cora had been Jewish, and had become loyal to the Church of England only to marry father and claim the Grantham title.
“I wonder if he’ll forgive me,” she mused in a soft voice.
“Once you attend confession, God will--"
“I didn’t mean God,” she interrupted. She then made a feeble attempt at smiling for her husband’s sake when she realised bitterness had crept into her tone. “I meant Sir Anthony.”
Tom took a deep breath. “Strallan left you at the altar, Edith. If anyone should be seeking forgiveness, it’s him.”
“I need him to forgive me for giving up so easily.”
Tom pushed his plate towards the centre of the table. “Do you still love him?”
She blinked away tears. “I don’t know.”