Affections and the Axe - Part Three

Disagreements and the Hunt

On a quiet afternoon at the Westerly residence, William and James returned from the hunt. Abigail was so relieved to see them approach, as she knew that their bubbling friendship would warm the whole house twice over from the cold between herself and Lydia. She ran to greet James, but she was surprised to see an angered expression on the face of her love. An angered face that matched William’s.

James smiled at Abigail, but not with the full friendliness she usually felt from him. She had never seen him carry himself so angrily, and she did not know how to feel about this. Behind them, James and William dragged a mighty stag and several fat game birds. Their hunting trip was an evident success, so Abigail could not surmise their stern faces. William and Lydia did not have an emotional reunion, though Abigail was unsurprised to see that.

Neither William nor James spoke much to anyone that entire evening, even when everyone sat down to eat some of the meat secured from their hunt. Franklin asked them questions about their adventure, and they would respond in full. But there was little excitement in their voices, little fun in their stories. Just a few days prior, they filled the room with laughter and enthusiasm for the wild adventure to come. Now upon the return from said adventure, the room was filled only with tension. Maybe they were simply tired, which would have been reasonable. But Abigail knew both William and James well enough to know that this was not how either of them behaved from exhaustion.

Night fell, and William announced he would be going to bed, and that after breakfast, he and Lydia would return to her home. This caused surprise to everyone at the table. Ellen who was quite hurt from this announcement. He explained that he had a great deal of business to attend to, and he was anxious to leave it any longer. Franklin and Ellen were expecting a longer visit, as William had promised them, and they did not hide their disappointment.

Franklin even urged William to send a courier for whatever he needed, and to use his own office, but William declined. He argued that he did not trust a courier to know what books and papers needed to be packed. He would not be convinced, though he was sympathetic to the disappointment of his hosts. Abigail too was saddened, less for William’s departure and more for the limited timeline to tell him the truth she had learned about Lydia.

James asked Abigail if she might like to light lanterns and walk about the property in the dark. This was unusual, but she obliged, as she longed for a private conversation with him. They bundled themselves for the cool night air, and wandered out to the gardens. Abigail decided not to tell James what she learned of Lydia, at least not yet. Instead, she asked him more questions about the hunt. James answered each question briefly, though not outright rudely. But it was enough for Abigail to confront him.

“James,” she began, “you must tell me what is wrong, my love.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he responded without looking in her direction.

“Don’t you? Then why can you not look at me? Why could you hardly look at anyone at dinner? What happened to the laughter that you and William shared every other time I have seen you two near each other?” James took several deep breaths and a long pause after Abigail’s questions.

“My dear, I am sorry,” James spoke sincerely, finally turning to look at her. “Perhaps some things, even between man and wife-to-be, are best kept private.”

“Nonsense,” said Abigail, who was still keeping her own secret from James. “If something happened, especially with William who is like my brother, I should know. Might I be able to help?”

“I do not believe any help can be granted.”

“That is not for you to decide without first discussing it. Perhaps if you share with me, there may be help you did not know possible. But if something happened, please, my love, do not hide it.”

“Abigail…” James looked down at the ground breathing deeply with great stress as he would have been content to keep this discontent to himself. “Abigail, if you insist, I will oblige you. But I must ask- “

“I do insist,” she interrupted.

“But I must ask,” James continued on, “that you truly consider before you have me share. You are asking me to share more than just one event on a hunting trip.” This prelude confused her, and even concerned her. She paused, looking James in the eye deeply before she responded. She saw his sad eyes with a worried look, and she asked herself whether she truly wanted to hear what had happened.

“James, my love,” Abigail finally spoke up, “you can tell me anything. Let me be here for you. I insist.”

“If you insist…” James paused, took a deep breath, and finally told her, quite plainly, what happened: “William broke my axe.”

“William did what?” Abigail asked, stifled. “Is that a metaphor?”

“No,” James subtly chuckled, “truly, he used my wood cutting axe and it snapped at the handle.”

“James…” Abigail stopped herself, “I am sure William meant no harm by it, and either he or my father would gladly replace…” Abigail exhaled. “…An axe. For this you and William have spoiled an evening with silence?”

“You do not understand,” James replied seriously. Abigail simply looked at him, awaiting an explanation, and he took another deep breath before he continued. “Abigail, you know my family. I am quite lucky to have grown up in the house I did with the family that I did, but you know the Canterburys are not as grand of a family as others we keep company with. We come from humble generations, and it is only in recent years we have enjoyed any prominence.”

“That does not matter!” Abigail was defensive of her James’ status and did not appreciate him speaking lowly of himself like this. “You are a good man, a wise man, and your family has done quite incredibly. And- ”

“Of course we have! Please, Abigail- “

“I am sorry,” Abigail said earnestly, “I will not interrupt again.”

“By no means do I feel shame for myself or my family, when I speak of our origins I do so with pride. But one cannot deny that we came from modest means, historically. We hold very few heirlooms to pass on from one generation to the next. One of the few that we did have was a wood chopping axe, the very one that is now broken.

“This axe that I carried with me was passed down from my great, great grandfather. Only recently had my father even granted it to me. Though I could borrow it, it has only fully been in my possession as a gift for our engagement. So of course, preparing for the hunting trip with William, I packed it along so I might have some good luck from my forefathers.

“On the second or third night of the hunt, our campfire grew smaller. The pile of firewood that I had previously chopped up with the axe was burning faster than we could track. So I got up to go fetch more wood. But there were still logs left that we had not yet burnt. So William went and fetched my axe – which was the only axe either of us packed – to chop more for the pile. After he got through those pieces, he still felt there was more that he could do.

“He saw no more logs or branches on the ground around, but apparently he did see a small, dying tree that looked ready to chop. As he explained it to me, William began to chop, and chop, and chop away at the tree. I was still away, trying to carry a handful of good firewood, when I heard a loud crack. Surely it was the sound of more firewood being readied. But it was not. The handle of the axe was not as strong as the tree, and it snapped in William’s hands.”

James stopped his story to rub his brow with frustration. Abigail did not know how to react, but she dared not interrupt him again, especially now as he bordered anger more than she had ever seen before.

“I walk back and see him standing there, two halves of my axe in each of his hands,” James continued. “I do regret my immediate reaction, but I yelled at William. The things I yelled at him were… Hurtful. They were wrong… But my axe, and his tone over the whole thing,” the more James spoke, the more he worked himself up. He cut off his own thought to continue the story. “The axe was old, and only strong enough to be used on smaller logs, not whole trees. It was obvious by the sight of it! But he defended himself, saying that he did not know enough about the axe. He said he would never have known this without my explanation. But Abigail, William had hunted before. William had camped before. Surely a sportsman like himself could see an axe, or any hand tool, and know what sort of labor it can or cannot handle.

“And of his defense, if I would have explained myself: Perhaps I could have, if William had only asked me for the axe! But no permission was requested nor received to borrow my axe. He simply picked it up and used it. And when I pointed this out to him, he was angered. He tried to tell me that no possessions are off limits when hunting. But that is simply not so! Courtesy still exists at camp, and consent still exists on the hunt. He should have asked, but he did not.”

“James,” Abigail spoke softly, “how long did you two argue over this?”

“Our dispute… It went well into the night.” James sounded embarrassed to report this, that he and William were yelling at each other for hours over this accidental axe incident.

Abigail did not know what to say. Part of her was glad that James opened up to her, while the other part of her felt such disapproval at having such a dispute over… An axe. James could sense her opinions from the expression she gave, so he felt obligated to fully express the importance of the axe, and what it represented.

“Every generation of my family worked tirelessly to give the next generation just a little bit more than they were born with,” James began, to a very attentive ear of Abigail. “My great, great grandfather used that very axe while he was working for a lumber company. He was a laborer who provided all that he could. Then, it was passed down to my great grandfather, who kept it in his tool kit when he worked for a carpentry company. He had the same work ethic as his father, bu was able to hone far greater skill.

“It was passed next to my grandfather, and he kept the axe handy in the carpentry shop that he himself owned.” James eyes grew teary, and his voice shaky, with emotion and pride over his story. “With the skills his father taught him, my grandfather was able to build his own business, and for the first time, our family had no employer. Our family was the employer.

“Then the axe came to my father. He kept the axe mounted behind his desk at the local press where he still serves a writer. That was until he deemed me worthy of it. That wall behind his desk remains empty now, because he entrusted me with the next generation of our family’s prosperity. He entrusted me to increase us yet further.

“I had hoped that the axe would be mounted behind my own desk one day. Perhaps it would be a symbol of the fortunate future you and I would share.” Tears now began to fall down James’ face. “Perhaps it would belong to a son of our own one day. But now, the poor axe is snapped and ruined. I know it is only an axe. I know it is only a tool. But that tool fed my family for generations. That axe rose in the ranks right along with my family. And now I cannot help but think that, on my watch, part of our family legacy is broken.”

Abigail could understand his anger at this. She had no words to say, she had no story to share. She felt his pain, and with his vulnerability she felt her love for him enhance. She knew James was already strong and kind, but now to see him open this side of himself, while speaking equally of family and future, she struggled to contain her affections. She wanted to be close to him, but even out in the night sky with privacy she felt it necessary to be appropriate still. So, she approached him and gave him a hug.

“I’m sorry James,” Abigail spoke softly to him, rubbing her hand against his cheek. “But you are your family’s legacy. Axe or no, the legacy was never the axe. It was nothing more than a symbol, a symbol of everything your family has done. That our family has yet to do.” These words drew a smile on James’ face, and the two embraced again.

They spoke a little more, and Abigail asked more questions about the argument. She wondered why William would not have apologized when he realized the importance of the axe, until James admitted that he explained none of it to William.

In their arguments, all they could yell about was whether or not William had any right to pick up the axe without asking. James admitted that, in his anger, he did not want to open up to William. Again, Abigail was disappointed in both of these men in her life: Both so smart and successful, while equally dull and immature in anger. She urged James to talk to William, but he insisted that he had nothing more to say.

Abigail and James continued their walk arm in arm. James now asked Abigail to tell how she has been. She did tell James some of what happened, except for one precious detail kept to herself. She did not know how to broach such a subject to James. She worried whether he would take action against Lydia, or if he would have judgement for someone who would intrude the privacy of a guest in her home. For the time being, Abigail continued to conceal her secret from James. The two returned to the house and retired for the night.

During breakfast the next morning, both William and James were more talkative than the day before, though not with one another. William spoke with Franklin and Ellen, promising another return very soon. James and Lydia spoke at the other side of the table and realized that their family homes were rather close to one another, and they compared some of their favorite places to pass the time. Abigail sat in the relative center of the table, trying to listen in on both conversations. She had many conflicting thoughts going about her mind, all to do with William: His conflict with James, and his engagement to Lydia.

William announced that he and Lydia should go pack their things and ready for their departure. Before they left the dining room, Abigail asked William to have a walk with her in the garden, as they had so little time to speak during this visit. This request was met with a confused expression from James, a jealous expression from Lydia, and a relieved smile from William, who agreed. The childhood friends went outside.

“I am glad you asked for this,” said William. The two walked at a relaxed pace around the grounds they once played on, the home they both grew up in.

“Indeed,” Abigail replied, “it would have been a shame if you left without us speaking more.”

“I do agree. I feel I have seen more of you recently than the last several years, and yet this may be the first time we are speaking alone?”

“It may be, indeed,” Abigail thought about it for a moment, though the moment of silence only taunted her mind with the revelation she had to reveal to William. “Whether or not it is, I am glad we have it.”

“The plans for your wedding must be coming along quite well. I trust that your mother is eager to fill the halls yet again.”

“Oh, is she not always?”

“Indeed,” William said with a small laugh. “Though, a hostess as skilled as she would be depriving the people if she did not eagerly host as much as she could.”

“If you tell her that, my father may disown you.”

“Do not even jest at such a thought,” William said as Abigail laughed.

“William, he would sooner cast me out of his home before even thinking a word against you.”

“Abigail, you have always been wise beyond your years.” Abigail gasped and pushed at William for his joke, though this was the reaction he desired.

William asked Abigail a few questions more about her wedding plans. Some of the arrangements she cared deeply for, while others were whatever her mother deemed best. She mentioned that James also had some family traditions to impart on the ceremony and reception, to which William politely replied though with less enthusiasm than before. Abigail noticed this, but chose to leave it be for now.

“Your wedding will indeed be a festival to remember,” said William. “Lydia and I have not yet chosen a date for our wedding, though when we do, I am sure we will be competing with the memory of your own.” Abigail could not listen to William discuss his wedding to a woman dishonoring him. She felt a weight upon her chest and could not wait any longer.

“William,” she said seriously, “there is something we need to talk about.”

“I know,” William replied somberly, much to Abigail’s surprise.

“You know?”

“Well, of course I know what you mean.”

“Of course you do,” Abigail was confused, yet awaited a further explanation from William.

“You wish to speak about James and the axe.”

“Oh,” Abigail said, a little surprised. No, actually, she thought to herself, I would rather discuss your rude, two-faced adulteress who you are engaged to only in hopes to receive her family fortune to combine with the business you have built from my father’s investment. Perhaps you do know of her entanglement, but you simply do not care who she lays with, so long as her father names you heir. How are you the man I thought my brother?

“Of course,” she spoke, while thinking, but let us discuss you boys breaking each other’s toys.

“Did he ask you to speak with me?” asked William earnestly, a concern in his voice that reminded Abigail that he was indeed a good man.

“He did not,” Abigail spoke truly. “He seemed content to leave it unspoken, at least for now.” The two continued walking, though any eye contact or smiles between them had ceased at the mention of the axe dispute. “And so, it seems, have you.”

“Well… Yes, I think we agreed to leave it unspoken further.”

“You agreed? Or you both grew tired of arguing? And neither wanted to break the silence with the first word?”

“Well…” William laughed to himself, as Abigail stared at him awaiting a reply. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps the agreement was more a silent stalemate.”

“You stubborn men,” Abigail shook her head with disappointment. “To think I love either of you oxen.”

“Abigail, I do not know what he told you, but he did yell quite insulting things at me. I was no angel in return, and I admit guilt over breaking the axe, but it is only a hand tool that I would gladly replace.”

“No, you cannot replace that axe.”

“Sure I can,” William scoffed, “it was quite ordinary to be so angry over.”

“No,” Lydia spoke up again, “it is not about that… And to be true to my beloved, he did admit his words against you were unkind. He did not repeat them, but I know he regrets them.”

“Alright then,” William was confused, and therefore curious, “So why could I not replace the axe? What is it about?”

“The axe is… Well, to James it is more than an axe. I do not know why he withheld this from you initially, but when your argument became harsh, he did not wish to share this part. I am sure he would forgive me for telling you.

“There is a familial value to the axe. It was not a mere matter of property, James would not have cared were it any old axe that you could replace so easily. But it was not an ordinary axe, it was one of few family heirlooms James had, and it was one of great meaning to the successful rise of his family.”

“What do you mean?” William interrupted, to Abigail’s annoyance.

“Good William, I am telling you,” she said with annoyance in her voice, as William apologized briefly. “The axe has been passed down since his great, great grandfather used it. He worked for a lumber company, and that axe was how he made his living. He passed the axe to his son, who worked for a carpenter. He passed it to his son, James’ grandfather, who owned his own carpentry business. Then James’ father kept the axe mounted in his office. Now the axe belongs to James, a gift to our engagement.” Abigail took a breath, as these words ran quickly from her mouth. “It was not a working axe any longer, I don’t think. James mostly carried it for luck, which he would have wanted on the hunt.”

William quietly reflected Abigail’s explanation and understood James completely. William was hoping to build a better life for his future children in the same way that each generation of James’ family had done. Beyond that, he could appreciate the significance of James’ father gifting it to him. William had precious few gifts left from his own father, most of which were saved for him by Franklin anyway. To have broken one as meaningful as that axe weighed on him. William thanked Abigail for telling him the truth.

The two continued their walk together, though now Abigail could not muster the strength to tell William about Lydia’s affair. She came so close several times, but each time the words were about to leave her mouth, she could not do it. Once, William even asked her if there was something she wanted to say, but she declined the opportunity.

Finally, there was a break in the conversation when Abigail decided she would tell him. But in that instant, William spoke and asked Abigail what she thought of Lydia. What a perfect chance to tell him, when directly asked. And yet, she could not.

“I was glad to have more time to spend with Lydia,” Abigail spoke carefully, not wanting to lie to William though not wanting to be rude either. “Our day of horseback riding together was quite fun, and I know my mother was very pleased with her as a guest.”

“I am glad to hear this,” said William.

“But, William, I have to ask you,” Abigail stopped walking, now facing directly at William. “Why are you marrying her?” She could not find the strength to reveal the truth she had learned, but she was very capable of uncovering William’s intentions.

“Pardon me?”

“I do not mean to offend you, however you must admit that there seems to be a lack of affection between the two of you. I always hoped that the woman you would wed would love you deeply and loudly, and it is impossible to see either of those things between you.” Abigail could tell that William was flustered by this questioning.

“Well, Abigail, not every loving couple can be so lucky as you and James. To meet one another naturally, to fall in love naturally, it is a rare and beautiful thing you have found yourself in. But look at most married couples, even your own parents, and they were not so lucky. Why should I be so lucky? I am so happy for you, Abigail, but we could not both have this luck.”

“I do not deny that James and I are blessed.”

“Nor should you! To deny it or pretend otherwise, it would be a waste. Perhaps one day more marriages can be like your own. Our introduction does not mean we would be any less of a partnership in marriage, even if it is not quite the romance of you and James.”

“A partnership? Truly?” Abigail said with a scoff. Tell him, she thought to herself, tell him now before it is too late.

“Abigail, if you have anything else to say, do not stop now,” William was defensive now.

“William,” Abigail took a long pause before, again, not telling him the truth about Lydia. “There is a difference between a calm love and no love at all. I worry that you are only marrying Lydia to advance your own position. When we spoke in our youth, you wanted to find your true love as much as I did. I am quite disappointed to see a lack of any romance between you and her. What else am I to think except that you are marrying for wealth?”

William pondered on this, not wishing to answer too quickly. He slowly began to walk again, and Abigail was now a step or two behind him where he went. He turned back to her several times, but each time he turned his face away, continuing his slow walk as she followed him.

“It is not only with love that you are blessed,” William finally spoke, “but with a fortune fit for a queen, my dear friend. And I will not be a hypocrite, for it is a fortune that I have also taken great benefit. But one benefit it has allowed you that it has not allowed me is the opportunity to marry any man you like, and for any reason you like. To marry for true love, to be sure. Though I am known in high society, I am an outsider among you.”

“That is not true,” Abigail interrupted, “and you know it! My parents see you as their own son, in everything but name you are a member of this house!”

“I do not mean your parents, of course this is my home and you are all my family. But yours is not the only family that matters. You speak of Lydia’s wealth, but dear Abigail, I have earned all of the wealth I could ever need. Without a family connection, without alliance to a great house like that of Asher, I will always be an outsider. I will always be a boy who has done well for himself, and not a man of the civilized world.

“What of my children one day? What of their prospects? Must they prove themselves again, as I did? If I allow myself to marry for true romance and a storied love, would they be respected by the other families? I do not think it would be. Instead, I would marry selfishly, and they would be left in the same situation I now find myself. But God granted me an opportunity to unite to a great family. My sacrifice is to forego that dream of my youth for the betterment of my future.

“My dear Abigail,” William continued, now reaching out his hands to hold hers, “please do realize how lucky you are. Indeed, you have faced hardship and paid your dues, but you have been granted an opportunity so few of us have. An opportunity I will give my children one day.”

“William,” said Abigail, “in the years since you left our home and built your business, you never once wrote me of romance. You never once wrote me of a woman you called on. Did you ever try for love? Did you ever pursue a true match? How can you know that this is your only opportunity for marriage? I am sure that if you wanted to, if you tried, so many women would find themselves lucky to marry you. And their fathers, who surely do business with you, would approve. But you have never tried!”

“I have tried,” William responded, “and that is the reason I never wrote about it. If every prayer in my life could be answered, then yes, perhaps I could marry for true love instead of security. But I tried and I lost.” William let go of Abigail’s hands, removed a handkerchief, and wiped at his eyes before going on.

“Instead, I was granted an opportunity to better my status in the world, and I took it. I do not view it as advantageous, I must repeat myself, I view it as a sacrifice for my children. I would forego whatever great love story you believe I missed, so that my children may not need to know the pain of not being enough.

“Lydia and I may not be the greatest love story that was ever told, but we will marry. We will marry, and we will grow to love one another.” William took a deep breath as he concluded his speeches to Abigail, who now felt great sorrow for her friend.

This was Abigail’s chance to tell him the truth: They could never grow to love one another when she has already given her love to someone else. That he could leave her, keep his dignity, and find another bachelorette in society who might truly love him. It did not have to be such a sacrifice, and that his children one day might grow up in a home that was not only bountiful with riches, but bountiful with love.

But she could not say it, still. Even after all of this, after each opportunity to speak up, she could not tell William of Lydia’s affair. She kept it to herself, and instead walked arm in arm with her old friend. An immense guilt sat in her heart for her secrecy, but she heard the determination from William, and she could not tell him the truth. All she told him was that she hoped he was right. The two walked arm in arm, now silently, back towards the house.

William and Lydia were all packed and ready for their journey away from the Westerlys. Just after their carriage set off along the trail, William ordered the driver to stop. He jumped out so he could look inside of one of the trunks where his hunting supplies were, to check that everything was in order. He waved at everyone seeing him off one last time, and then got back into the carriage.

“What were the two of you talking about on your walk?” asked James.

“Quite a few things,” Abigail responded. “Mostly, we discussed the affections of our engagements,” and she held his hand reassuringly.

William and Lydia set about their way, the Westerlys returned to their usual activities, and James began to plan his own return to Edward’s homestead to check on some of what he had been missing these last several weeks. He did not intend on a long stay, but he felt obliged to at least make the gesture towards his mentor.

While all of this was happening, conflict was unfolding at the homestead of the Bennett family – or, one might say, the current homestead of the Bennett family. The situation for the Bennetts had gotten so dire that there was serious discussion of selling their property and attempt to retire modestly with the profit of sale.

The only true hope for the family now was if the Westerlys forgave Arthur. Not only for his cruel actions against Abigail, but also for his intrusion at the engagement ball, from which he carried the full blame for the altercation. All in all, Arthur felt hopeless and angry. Abigail was renowned by everyone as a kind, forgiving soul, yet his bitterness at her soured evermore when he was no recipient of this kindness. He was no recipient of forgiveness.

Arthur’s parents seldom spoke to him, and it was with disdain when they did. His siblings, who had now also become damaged prospects by association, made it known to him at every opportunity what he had done to them. No friends would return his letters, though he had stopped writing them altogether. His hate for himself and everyone around him intensified.

The only comfort he found any longer was in drinking through his lonesomeness, though this was a comfort that was killing him. He was beyond remorse, beyond repentance, and no longer felt any guilt for his actions. He believed that his own punishment, and that upon his family, had a far greater cruelty than any of what he had done to Abigail. And with every sip ingested, and every angry word he thought to himself, he fell further down the hole of hatred.