Beware the Patient Woman

“Thank you.” Hester drapes the quilt Martha handed her across Anna’s shoulders, sitting directly in front of her while rubbing her hands up and down Anna’s shivering arms. The kitchen fire roars in the large stone oven beside them, even still, Anna can’t seem to get warm.

“Darling, we really should get you out of these wet clothes,” Hester says, expression one of genuine worry. It makes the guilt within Anna eat away at her even faster.

“Oh my, dear! What happened to you child?” Mrs. Flynn rushes into the room, stopping just inside with a hand over her mouth. She looks as if she threw on her dress and pinned up her hair with haste.

“Just got caught in the storm is all, Mrs. Flynn,” Anna explains, electing to leave out everything pertaining to Robert. Her eyes catch Hester’s, and she sees the other woman understand.

The housekeeper comes closer, petting Anna’s head gently. “I’ll have Martha draw you a hot bath, and we’ll get you out of this dress before you catch your ****, then.” She stops short, finally seeming to notice Hester with a quiet gasp of surprise. “Oh...”

Anna’s eyes go wide at the old woman’s look of pure joy, her wrinkled hand caressing Hester’s face adoringly. Hester’s smile is wide as she holds Mrs. Flynn’s hand to her.

“My dear! I wasn’t expecting you to come yourself. And so quick.”

Hester raises a brow, head tilting with a playful air. “Oh you know me, always running in to save the day.”

“It’s been too long,” Mrs. Flynn declares, and Anna thinks she sees tears in her eyes.

“It has,” Hester agrees with a bittersweetness that fills the room.

“You must see the children. Miss Smith has done wonders with them.” At that she turns to Anna, pride all over her excited face. “But of course after we get you both warmed up- Oh my!” She stands suddenly straight, mouth agape. “I’ve forgotten about Mr. Hall.”

Hester stands beside her, taking her hands. “It’s alright, Mrs. Flynn.”

“No, no you don’t understand, dear. He woke and made a mad dash out into the storm! Quite incensed and-“

“It’s alright,” Hester assures, “I’ve sent your man after him. They should be back shortly.”

“I suppose he’ll be needing a warm bath, too then.”

Hester shrugs with a roll of her eyes. “Bandages more like.”

“Bandages?”

Hester raises her brows, mouth open as she tries to come up with something. “The idiot has gone and knocked himself out.”

“Oh dear. Is it serious? Shall we call for the doctor?”

“Oh no,” Hester reassures with a smile. “I’d rather him feel the pain of his utter stupidity.”

Mrs. Flynn nods, returning her smile politely until she understands what Hester has said, face falling in shock.

“Bandages will do just fine, Mrs. Flynn.”

—————

Anna pauses in her brushing, wet hair hanging limp as she stairs at her reflection. Leaning forward, she runs her fingertips across the bruises left on her cheeks, a near perfect print of fingers and thumb on either side of her face.

She blinks back tears, trying to push away the images from the morning - the memory of utter helplessness and terror crippling her ability to forget.

Her stomach churns dangerously, making her dash for the washbasin. It’s as if she’s caving in on herself, mind stuck in a rut she can’t escape from. With a frustrated cry she slams her palms on the table, feeling a **** urge to tear the room apart.

Before she can, there’s a knock on her door, light and hesitant. Wrapping her robe tighter around herself, she waits for Mrs. Flynn to enter. So she’s taken aback when it’s Hester who peeks around the door.

“Knock, knock,” she says with grin, stepping just inside the room, as if waiting for permission to invade Anna’s space. “I’ve just come to check on you.”

Anna releases a heavy breath, trying to control the complexities of emotion welling up within her. She tries to focus on something - anything to keep herself together, settling on the junoesque form of Hester.

She was beautiful in an elegant and dignified way, tall and lithe, with dark red hair coiled in a loose bun with a braid. She wore very little makeup, and no jewelry to speak of, but the most astonishing thing were her clothes.

A long, well-fitted man’s banyan layered over a waistcoat, and a shirt tucked into a rather drab looking skirt falling straight and close to her legs without the padding of layers upon layers of petticoats. All of it topped off with a neckcloth that matched the color of her hair.

She looks as if she raided her husband’s wardrobe. Except none of these things would ever fit Robert, as well-tailored as they were to fit the womanly curves of their owner.

She’s captivating, and Anna wonders if she can recreate the image with paints.

Chin high but eyes low, Anna speaks. “I don’t know,” she begins in a tremulous voice, “I don’t know if I’m ok.”

Head tilting with sympathy, Hester makes her way swiftly across the room. She holds Anna’s arms, thumbs stroking against them, kind yet firm. It’s quickly becoming Anna’s favorite form of comfort.

But the woman’s presence creates such confusion, Anna can barely comprehend it. She’s entirely too gracious and understanding considering how they first met, any other woman would’ve stood by her husband despite Anna’s obvious ****. But for all appearances, she seems more concerned with Anna’s mental well-being than her husband’s physical one.

Would she be so caring and understanding if she knew the extent of Anna and Robert’s relationship?

Hester raises the back of her fingers against Anna’s cheek, caressing the bruises there with a gentleness that has Anna’s throat feeling tight, closing her eyes against the sting of tears.

“You’ve suffered a trauma. There’s no need to know anything. And there’s certainly no rush to be ok.”

Vision blurry, Anna peers up at her, head stuffed with contradictions and fears. “Why are you so kind to me?”

Hester gives a worried frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She can’t answer, too afraid of watching this lovely woman look on her with scorn. She swallows hard, willing herself to speak. But she sees it when it becomes too late, comprehension alighting across Hester’s face. And Anna waits with bated breath for the spewing of vitriol to come.

But it never does.

Instead, a queer kind of smile lifts at the corners of Hester’s lips, a look of good humor and sympathy on her face.

“No worries, love,” she says kindly. “You’re welcome to whatever you wish. Though, I would suggest not at the current moment, with things how they are.”

Anna leans away, not completely sure Hester understands. But her knowing look tells Anna that, yes, she does, and she still couldn’t care less.

It’s unsettling, yet also... fascinating.