The Curious Story of the Missing Lady – Extended Epilogue

An entry in Lady Madeline’s diary reads the following:

“It is truly a pity that we cannot recognise the significance of coincidence in our lives until it is too late.”

She could not for the life of her remember why it was that she penned those words so long ago, but they came to mind this day—the day of her wedding to Lord Peter Lytton. And she recalled them much later on, after knowledge of their significance could no longer do her any good.

It happened within the span of a half hour, she was later to recall with longing. If only she knew, she could have saved herself the sickness of heart that lay in waiting for her.

She paced her room in her wedding gown, an ensemble that was an exact replica of the one she wore her first time around, right down to the lace veil bedecked with orange blossoms, a symbol of her purity.

The ceremony had been delayed through no fault of her own. As it was, the vicar had had too much to drink and was at this very moment allowing himself to be sobered up by the kitchen staff. And so, she paced her room, growing ever the more anxious.

Anxious? But why? Why should she feel this way? Everything had worked out perfectly, after all. She was going to marry the love of her life, the mate to her soul—why was she anxious?

Ah, the room! She thought bitterly. This endless pacing.

Indeed, without her realising it, her solitary pacing back and forth in this room had put her in mind of her time spent imprisoned by the wicked Lady Elizabeth in the lonely house in the woods.

Her heart raced, and there was a centralised point of fear in the centre of her bosom. She clutched at it, hoping that she might be able to rip it from her chest. Where did that feeling come from? It burned her. And it flared like a torch whenever she dwelt upon it.

Best not to think on it, she told herself. But she could not help it. She was there, pacing, and her breath came in hitches and she felt the urge to run, run far away and never look back, and never return.

She stamped her feet and let out a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a growl.

Lisbelle poked her head in. “M’Lady? Is everything alright?”

“No, Lisbelle, everything is not alright.”

The lady’s maid entered the room fully. “I’m here, M’Lady,” she said gently. “What is it I can do for you?”

“I think I may be losing my mind. Is it real, Lizzy? Am I to be married today to Lord Peter?”

“Why, yes,” said Lisbelle, looking at her askance. “Of course.”

“Oh, it all seems so unreal. I’m having the most terrible thoughts at the moment. Why is it that we must go through so much pain in order to gain a little bit of freedom in life?”

“I don’t know what you mean, M’Lady.”

“I was put through that ordeal, and for what? If it had not been for that, I would never have met Peter.” Her voice softened. “And what a fine man he is, and what a lucky girl I am. But why so much pain and misery all so we could be led to each other’s arms?”

“M’Lady” said Lisbelle, pulling up a chair and sitting down, “sometimes things happen and there don’t seem to be any reason for it. Take your abduction from this house. As you say, it led you right to this moment. But I believe you would have been in this moment—this exact one, mind you, marrying Lord Peter and all—even if that abduction never took place.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Lisbelle.”

“Oh, but it does, M’Lady, when you consider how right you and Lord Peter are for each other. I believe in my heart of hearts that if you had never gone through that experience, the forces of nature would have conspired in some way to bring you together under any circumstance. This I do believe.”

Madeline took a deep breath, feeling her anxiety begin to settle within her. “You may be right, Lizzy, but why the pain, then? Why the suffering. It seizes me when I don’t realise it. If only I could see it coming and stave it off somehow.”

“You can’t, my dear Lady. And it truly is a pity. But what you can do is face your past bravely ’cause it can’t hurt you no more. You don’t have to ignore it. You can remember it for the lessons it has taught you.”

“And what has it taught me? To be a frightened little rabbit wherever I go?”

“No, to be a strong woman who went through such a thing and lived to tell the tale.”

“I was rescued, you know.”

Lisbelle rose from her chair. “Oh, I know that. But I’m talking about going through what you had to go through, day in and day out. You found ways to keep your head. From the stories I heard, you even tried to escape on your own. That took a strong will, M’Lady. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“You’re right, Lizzy, thank you.”

“Anytime, M’Lady. Well, they’ll be calling for you soon. Pardon me while I go and freshen up a bit. Won’t be a moment.”

“Of course,” said Madeline, feeling nothing but gratitude for Lizzy and her cool head.

Coincidence, she thought. That’s all it was. Two things that just happened to occur at the same time and had no relationship to one another. There was no significance to it. There was no plan for her to be abducted. It just happened because of the evil in a woman’s heart. And she, Madeline, could not help that. Nor could she help Lord Peter’s wandering away from his party and stumbling upon her prison. It was in his nature to wander …

The very thought seized her afresh. What was it about that notion?

Wandering.

He liked to wander. It’s what brought him to her.

There was a note here, somewhere … Where was it?

Ah yes, in the bookcase.

She went to it. Lodged between volumes two and three of Ann Radcliffe’s The Italian was the note. Scrawled by an unlettered hand it was, by a girl who had seen the worst of life. This was the note that had summoned her to Thornhill cemetery in order to deliver information about Lord Peter. She never knew the girl’s name, but she knew of her kind. There were thousands like her in the world. How many of them knew of her Lord Peter’s carousing in taverns and other low places?

This is what began her anxiety again.

“All set—Madeline?” said Lady Emily. “What’s wrong, sister?”

“Why, nothing,” said Madeline.

“Madeline, do you not think I can tell, after knowing you all my life, when it is you are feeling bad about something. It is written all over your beautiful face, my dear.”

“Emily, there is a portion of this tale of mine that you are not aware of. Can I entrust you with a secret?”

“Why, you know you can.”

“You have to swear never to tell a soul. Not even Oliver.”

“I swear,” she said.

“Sometime after I was delivered back to this house from my captivity, I was summoned to a most unusual place by a most unusual girl in a most unusual way.”

She gave Emily the note, poorly-written and tattered as it was. Emily read it through, shaking her head.

“What does it mean?”

“It was a girl of the lowest kind. I’m sure I do not need to explain further. She hung about in taverns and publick houses and … made her living there.”

Emily gasped, her hand to her mouth. “Dear me.”

Madeline took the note back and stared at it, this artifact from what seemed like another life altogether.

“This girl told me that Lord Peter was … fond of the tavern life. He would drink and carouse and consort with low types.”

“Well, even the Prince Regent himself loves a good night of drinking and revelry. We know this much to be true.”

“It is unbecoming of any man, and let’s not discuss the Prince Regent. But that notwithstanding, what would happen if he … missed that life?”

“Sister,” said Emily, “what are you saying?”

A searing rage came up through her in a column of fire. “I’m saying how do I know I can trust him? How do I know he’ll not go back to that sordid life?”

“He is a Duke now, Madeline.”

“And the Prince Regent?”

“Oh, well, you’ve got a point.”

“I must ask him for a sign,” said Madeline, folding her arms defiantly. “That is what I must do. I will ask him to prove his love and devotion to me.”

“Madeline, you can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. How else will I know? If I receive the proper sign, I will know for sure.”

“Really. And what sign is that?”

Her mind raced. There was only anger and frustration there, swirling like the clouds of a great storm. But at least a storm would eventually give way to flowers. This was a storm that produced nothing of value whatsoever, but instead raged and drowned out all thought. She came up empty.

“I don’t know,” she said at last. “But if there is a sign to be shown, I’m sure Lord Peter will show it. There. What do you say to that?”

“I say you are being unreasonable. But seeing as how it is your wedding day, I’ll overlook it. You’re full of nerves and nothing else.” She turned to leave when Madeline spoke and froze her in her tracks.

“What of Oliver?” Madeline said softly.

She turned slowly to her sister. “What of Oliver?”

Madeline shrugged. “How would you know? Hmm? How would you know if he was or was not still pining for your older sister Madeline? What sign could he give you that would be proof of his devotion?”

“Madeline, don’t …”

“There has to be an answer, Emily. You know it in your heart. And until you get that answer, the question will eat away at you until there is nothing left!” She broke down and wept into her hands.

“I’m going,” said Emily.

“No, wait!”

“Wait for what? So you can continue to convince me of awful untruths?”

“Don’t leave me now, Emily, please.”

“No, I’m going. I must see Oliver this instant.”

“Wait!”

But it was to no avail. And she stood there in the centre of the room, her sadness and loneliness swirling like the storm. And there she was alone again with her despair. She pulled at her hair and stamped her foot. The sadness gave way to rage, and this once again to despair, as if her emotions were gambolling about in some playful dance within her. And then there was fear, which heated her collar and ignited her belly, and made her want to run again.

Perhaps she could. Here was a window. No. She would not dare. But why even consider it? Was there a small part of her that wanted her to do it and end the choking fear once and for all? At any rate, how would she know she wouldn’t repent at the last moment and try to climb the very air back up to her room?

These thoughts frightened her to no end. They were the Devil’s work, to be sure. She prayed for God to forgive her.

She would run, instead, yes. She would run to Lord Peter. How silly she had been. The answer was here in this house.

All she needed to do was to go to him and ask him for it.

She pulled herself together and took a few deep breaths. She felt better already. She would have her proof. Or she would not. Whatever the outcome, there would at least be an answer. She was prepared to move on without him if it came to that. She made her decision, and now she would see it through.

She made her way down the hall towards the room where Lord Peter was being tended to by his valet. She knocked once, heard him answer, and entered.

“Hello,” he said with a smile. He was handsome, indeed, with his sandy brown hair perfectly shorn, his straight jawline, cut as it seemed with a jeweller’s saw, and his sparkling green eyes. “Under any other circumstance, I’d say it was bad luck for you to see me, but seeing as how you’ve already seen quite a bit of me this day, I don’t think the fickle hand of fate would bother to fling a pinky in our direction. What do you think, Madeline?”

“Peter,” she said, and couldn’t bring herself to finish.

“Madeline? What is it, my love? You seem as though you’re sick at heart.

She fell into a chair in the corner of the room. “And so I am,” she said, weeping afresh.

Peter turned to his valet. “Would you excuse us a moment? You may wait just outside the door.”

“You’ll be scandalized, M’Lord.”

“If I am, I’ll certainly know who to go to for the blame, won’t I?”

“Yes, M’Lord,” said the valet, scurrying out of the room.

He knelt down to be at her level. “Madeline, my love, what is it?”

“Peter,” she said through her tears, “I am so heavily distraught. I don’t know where it came from, but it’s here.” She pounded her heart with her fist.

“But why, Madeline?”

“The note, Peter. That dreaded note that I received from that horrible girl who met me in the cemetery.”

His face went hard. “What about it? What about her?”

Madeline shook her head. “I know I’m being foolish, Peter, but I’m afraid, so terribly afraid that you will return to your old life and your old ways.”

“Madeline, that is sheer nonsense.”

“You enjoyed that life did you not?”

“No.”

She stared at him quizzically. “No?”

“No, I did not enjoy it for a second. I thought I did.” He sighed and stood up. “Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a man who had a wonderful father, a loving family, and all the wealth that any man could wish for. He was untethered, this man, and saw the world as his proverbial oyster. But what he never realised was that his life was missing one thing. He didn’t know what that one thing was. And so, he spent many a month in all kinds of places, searching for it. He didn’t know what he was searching for, and so he tried looking everywhere. Mostly, he filled his belly with food and drink, and then sang bawdy songs and laughed at bawdy jokes the whole night through. These were merely to fill the time, you see, for he could not bear to be alone with his thoughts. And so, he focused on where he would go next. And he wandered, and developed the urge to explore. It was all part of the same problem, you see. It was filling the emptiness inside him. Well, that searching brought him to the most beautiful girl in the world, with the most heavenly voice, and the tenderest disposition the man had ever known. He had no more need to search. His search was over. Now he could enjoy life, finally, without question.”

“Peter,” she said, “I came asking for proof of your devotion. I didn’t know what it might be, but I never would have guessed in a thousand years that it would take the form of … such a terribly boring story …”

At this, she broke into such joyous laughter that she felt Peter would have been justified in having her thrown in an institution for the criminally insane.

“Terrible?” he said, sounding genuinely offended.

“Yes,” she said through laughter, which now came out partially in tears. “Yes, you beautiful man. All that pacing about, the man and his search! It’s so banal!”

Again, she lost herself to her laughter.

When she finally recovered, she said, “Peter, I believe you. And I love you because you are such a terrible storyteller. Yes, it may be true, but you tell it all wrong.”

“Do I?” he said with a smile.

“Yes,” she said, unable to control spasms of giggling. “You see, ‘once upon a time’ is a positively awful way to begin a story. And then to talk about this man in such a way. Where was the drama, the conflict, the vinegar and the snap?”

“I’d like to think it was all there.”

“It wasn’t, my love, but that is why you are the perfect man for me. You were being earnest, and you were your perfect self at that moment. I could ask for no better man with whom I am to spend the rest of my years.”

Emily appeared in the doorway. “May I come in?”

Madeline rushed to her sister and threw her arms around her.

“Emily!” she cried. “I’m awfully sorry for the way I spoke to you, my dear.” She pulled away and stared into her sister’s tender eyes. “Have no fear, sister. Oliver is right for you. He has always been so! It can be no other way, just as it can be no other than Lord Peter for me. It was my own ineptitude that blinded me to it. I let fear take hold of me. Forgive me.”

“Of course, I forgive you,” said Emily. “I never doubted Oliver’s devotion, you know.”

“I should have known,” said Madeline. “You’re much smarter than I.”

“Well, said Emily, “as long as you’re alright, I’ll be downstairs. They’re ready for you.”

“Right,” said Madeline.

When they were alone once again, she turned to the love of her life.

“Ready, My Lord?”

“Ready, My Lady.”

He extended his arm, and she took it, and thus they headed into their shared life.

THE END 

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