When The Rain Falls

Chapter Twenty-Six

I stood in front of the door to Father's story, taking several deep breaths to try to calm my rising nerves. No amount of comforting words from George could help the knot in my stomach or my heart thumping in my chest. If Father didn't believe my story, then he would most likely send me off to live with family in the city. With the mystery of where Rebecca came from still unsolved, I couldn't risk that happening. He had to believe me and I hope my unkempt appearance might make it a touch more believable.

Silence settled over the house. Even Lucy appeared nervous at having to deliver Father's summons to me, a sign that everyone was wary of this meeting. It could end up being the largest argument that Father and I had ever had. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door. The house held its breath.

"Enter." Father's voice was quieter than usual, a sign he was nursing a sore head.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. "You wanted to see me?"

"Sit down, Nathaniel."

Father waved his hand towards the empty chair on the opposite side of this desk. I closed the door behind me and moved silently towards it, keeping my eyes trained on him. Father didn't look up from his desk as I sat down and instead massaged his temples and took a small sip from the water in front of him. I looked at him, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of his face against the midday sunlight that streamed in through the partially open window. If George thought I looked unwell, Father looked like he could have been at death's door.

I rested my hands on my thighs, trying to ignore my pounding heart, the roar of blood in my ears, and the headache that had decided to make a reappearance. After a few minutes of uneasy silence, Father looked up from his desk. He folded his hands together and pressed them into the wood, glaring at me. I had been on the receiving end of his glare many times before, but it never made me squirm as much as it had in his office. All I wanted to do was run from the room and disappear into the woods.

"I want you to explain your actions last night to me, Nathaniel. No excuses, no lies, the complete and honest truth. I am not in the mood for anything other than the facts," he said.

George had told me to keep it simple, to keep the details small, so they would be more believable. I thought it would be best to follow his advice. "I didn't feel well."

"And that is your explanation for everything that happened last night? From leaving the table to ignoring Miss Marlow?"

"Yes, sir." I cleared my throat. "The heat got to me a little more than I let on and I felt rather sick for most of the evening."

Father raised an eyebrow at me, and I uttered a silent prayer that he believed me. "Why did you not say anything sooner? You had all that time before they arrived and yet decided to stay silent."

"I thought I would be fine and the heat might dissipate as the evening went on."

"Are you still feeling unwell or have you made a miraculous recovery overnight?"

"No, sir. I have a slight headache and still feel a little queasy."

That wasn't a lie. The breakfast I had devoured that morning threatened to make an ugly reappearance the longer Father stared at me. My stomach churned, my chest tightened, and my heart threatened to jump from my chest and onto the desk. George's idea of having a plan worked in theory, but it did nothing to calm my nerves as I sat across from Father and tried to ignore his judgemental gaze.

His face showed no sign of whether he believed me or not. Instead, he continued to stare at me from across the desk, no doubt trying to make me squirm so that I would reveal the truth. I refused to give in to his gaze. Even though some of the story wasn't true, enough of it was for me to stick with it. If I said something different, he would know I had lied. I bit the inside of my cheek, piercing the skin with my teeth and tasting blood. A slight tremble started in my fingertips.