“No, but you can be sad, darling. It’s so sad this has happened.”
“It’s not Mr. Cuddles’ fault, though. It’s my fault for housing Bouncer in an open-topped cage. I thought he would be happier if people could reach in and pet him.”
“He was happier,” Edward said, stroking her hair. “You mustn’t assign yourself any blame. He was a very happy bunny with a much longer life than he might have had otherwise.”
“I bet he was scared, though, when Mr. Cuddles squeezed him.” She soaked Edward’s shirtfront with a fresh spate of tears. She could not stop crying.
She could not stop picturing the horrifying event.
“He must have been so confused,” she sobbed. “He must have wondered why it was happening to him.”
“We can only hope it was over quickly.” Edward produced a handkerchief to wipe her tears, but his gentle dabs were no match for her grief.
“I cannot seem to compose myself,” she said.
“You don’t have to. It’s been a very sad evening.”
He let her cry, cradling her against him. It helped a little, but nothing could take away the pain she felt. She didn’t think she’d ever get rid of it. Poor, sweet Bouncer, meeting such a fate.
“Can we help with the snake, my lord?” asked one of the footmen beyond his shoulder.
“No.” Jane lifted her head, alarmed. “You mustn’t touch him now, after he’s had such…such a big meal. You may harm him if you try to move him. He must rest where he is for at least a couple days. He’ll be tired and docile from…eating… I’ll let you know when he can be moved back into his cage.”
“Ask McArry if he can fashion a temporary barrier around the snake,” he told the butler. “Would that be all right, Jane?”
“Yes. Yes, I suppose that would be best, so he does not wander when his digestion is complete.” She buried her head back in her husband’s chest. “Oh, the poor thing.”
“The poor thing? Mr. Cuddles?”
“Yes,” she sniffled. “I am sorry for him, despite his m-murderous act. He was never meant to live in England, in a noisy, busy kitchen in a cage. We’ve tried our best to give him a good life, but you see he is still a wild creature. I cannot be upset with him for what he’s done. Well, I am upset, but I must forgive him, for he was only behaving according to his nature.”
“I see what you mean. It is unfortunate all around.”
The kitchen had quieted. Mr. Cuddles lay still, blinking occasionally and darting out his tongue. Despite the sadness around him, he must have felt very full and content.
“If it’s any help, my lady,” said the cook in a quavery voice, “Bouncer was a happy little fellow until the end. I scratched his ears just the way he likes, I promise I did, this very afternoon… Near everyone who passes through my kitchens took the time to give the little fluff a tweak upon the ears, and feed him treats too when they thought I wasn’t looking.”
“It does make me happy to think of that,” she said to the kindly woman.
The three of them looked down at Mr. Cuddles’ distended body, just about the size of a small rabbit. A sob escaped her, one last sob, but she was nearly out of tears.
“I must go,” she said, handing back her husband’s handkerchief. “I must… I must rest a while.”
“Is there anything I can do, Jane?”
“No, I think…” She felt colder now that he’d released her, even though the kitchen was hot as ever. “Not right now.”
Jane walked to her rooms with her head down, thinking how difficult the last few days had been. Her mother had always said God never gave a body more than they could handle, but she wondered if that was true.
She convinced Matilda to leave her alone to grieve, then stood at the window a long time, until it was well dark, and gazed out at the stars. Was there a heaven for animals? Surely there was. She imagined Bouncer in a field of grass and flowers, his twisted back foot finally healed. She believed in her heart Mr. Cuddles would go there too someday when it was his time, for he’d meant no malice in his actions. Bouncer had simply looked too tempting to resist.
It wasn’t until a couple hours later, when she lay in her bed staring up at the canopy, that she thought again about forgiveness. Why, she’d forgiven Mr. Cuddles at once, understanding why he had behaved as he did. But she had not forgiven her husband in over a week, when he too had behaved as one might have expected. He had behaved as a husband who didn’t wish to hurt his new wife’s feelings. It was understandable, if not ideal.
She let out a long breath, lying very still. She’d been so shocked, so emotionally injured by those gossips at the ball, she’d probably overreacted to his actual trespass. Just like Mr. Cuddles, her husband could not help his nature. Just like Mr. Cuddles, he’d made a mistake, but instead of eating the wrong sort of rodent, he’d proposed to the wrong sister.