Chapter Twenty-Six
“How is Laura? Really?”
Kit had waited rather obviously until Sophia left the sitting room before asking Elias the question. The timing of it seemed deliberate, too, an opportunity for old friends to share confidences before the two cousins returned.
“She’s well,” Elias replied. It was an answer that had become habit, if not the truth. Kit’s look told him he recognized the lie that it was.
Today, the French doors out onto the terrace were completely open to take advantage of the cooler mountain air found in the hills above Palermo. Elias liked the view through the long, open, paved patio overlooking the grounds that gently sloped down to the edge of the ravine that marked the edge of his estate. Just visible over a thick hedge a dozen yards away, he could see the little studio where Laura apparently lived now, according to Serafina, instead of the house.
Admiring the gardens were Jonathan and Morwena. Jonathan pointed to one of the trees with pale pink flowers and said something to Morwena, who laughed and tucked an arm into her husband’s. The couple strolled further along the path until they were hidden from view.
Elias stepped out on the patio and rested his hand on the balustrade, fighting a small twinge of envy. Kit followed him out.
Speaking of this was difficult. Elias knew his reputation – the steady hand, the one everyone relied upon to keep his head in a crisis. He thought he could cope with anything. He was there to help Laura though the trauma of her ordeal, kept his vow to adopt her son and raise him as his own. He encouraged her art. He succeeded in everything except the one thing he wanted most – for her to love him.
Kit’s voice was a mix of exasperation and genuine concern. “Come on, Elias, I know you better than that. Sophia and I could see something was wrong the minute we walked through the door this morning. What the hell has happened?”
Let your yes be yes, and your no be no, everything else is a lie of the devil.
As painful as it was, he had to admit his failure and tell the truth.
But where to begin? His fight with Laura after their night together? His lack of experience with women was something he preferred not to discuss. Not that he was ashamed, it was just that it was no one else’s damned business.
Her rejection of him as little more than a body to please her? That wasn’t quite it either. As much as it hurt, he supposed time would eventually heal the hurt and the bruise to his ego would eventually fade.
No, where to begin was what had happened while he was away.
“According to Serafina, a few days after I’d gone, Laura started accusing everyone in the house of taking her belongings,” he started.
“You have a thief in your house?”
Elias shook his head. “No one would steal from me, there’s no need to. It’s the strangest thing. The objects Laura declared missing were not missing at all. Most had just been mislaid. Everything Laura claims was lost was found within a couple of days.
“She’s particularly set against Gina. She says she thinks Gina’s the one moving things.”
“Do you think she is?”
“No. And it makes no sense because Laura’s also virtually abandoned Benjamin to her. She leaves Gina to do everything for the child and sometimes doesn’t see him for days on end.”
Kit said nothing, but a long sigh revealed his thoughts more clearly than if he’d articulated them. Elias closed his eyes. It would be easier than witnessing a look of sympathy from his friend.
“Have you considered getting rid of Gina? Benjamin is how old? Six months? He should be weaned. He doesn’t need a wet nurse anymore.”
Elias shook his head firmly. “I won’t do that. Everyone I employ here knows they won’t be dismissed without reason.”
“Not even that they’re no longer needed? Collecting waifs and strays has become quite the hobby with you, hasn’t it?”
Elias gave Kit a sharp look and the man responded with a grin and continued. “I include myself in that number, too. I couldn’t have taken on eight on my own in that tavern.”
He knew Kit referred to their first meeting. He shook his head to hide a smile, unable to keep his annoyance for long. “It was five, and they were drunk.”
Kit slapped him across the back. “My memory must be going. I’m sure it was twelve.”
Elias laughed. It was good to laugh. It seemed a long time since he had. Despite the ribbing Kit gave him, he knew there was no other man who would have his back in a fight like him. They’d been through much together – but this was a journey Elias would have to complete on his own.
“And how are you?” Kit’s question slipped under his guard and the residue of mirth evaporated.
Elias kept his focus on the view before him. Speak of the devil… Gina was making her way down to the cottage under instruction to help Laura dress and join them for the noon meal.
Kit let out another sigh, this one of long-suffering. “How long have we known one another? Eight years?”
Elias shrugged.
“I’ll be better when Laura recovers,” he said at length. “She needs more time.”
“Have you considered she might not recover? You know the state of some of those we rescued before. The mood swings, the erratic behavior. Violent outbursts followed by speechless dolor. Their minds were damaged, often irretrievably so.”
Yes, Elias had considered it and fought that demon every single day. He could not let it consume Laura.
“I refuse to give up on her. Remember how you felt when Sophia was missing? You’d have plumbed the very depths of hell to find her and I was right alongside you for your sake as well as Laura’s.”
Elias knew there was a tone of rebuke in his voice. He suspected his captain knew it, too, but it seemed the man was prepared to pull rank, even though this was not the Calliope and they were not at sea.
“No one is suggesting you or I would have done otherwise,” said Kit. “But it might be time to let her go. Especially if you love her.”
Elias found his control slipping. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the balustrade.
Kit ought to know better. The behavior, the states of mind he described might equally have applied to himself. He was the man who nearly drove himself to death for those they rescued from the corsairs; the man who chronicled their torments; the man who gave himself to opiates to dull the pain of his own suffering.
Elias drew breath to speak out then saw Kit’s grave expression. He swallowed his anger down and waited for his friend to speak instead.
“Sophia has received a letter from Cappleman. He wants Laura to come home to England. He says there is someone who is prepared to evaluate her paintings for entry to the Royal Academy. You know me, I have no love for that idiot, but he’s right on this. Laura should try to rebuild her life in her own world where she can forget her ordeal.”
“And forget also she has a child?”
“If she needs to,” answered Kit, his jaw set.
“The babe is an innocent!” Elias protested.
“And yet the sins of the father are visited upon the sons – I think you told me that.”
The gossamer-thin thread which held Elias’ anger in check snapped.
“Don’t quote scripture at me! I know scripture!”
“Then you’ll know you’re not the bloody Savior!”
It was several seconds before they each mastered their anger enough to speak again.
Kit breathed in and lowered his voice “Look, I know you love Laura. No one is questioning your devotion to her or the child, but it’s been nearly a year since we rescued her. Do you love her enough to let her heal on her own terms?”
Elias turned away and looked out across the garden. Sophia emerged past the hedge between the cottage and the house.
“Has Sophia told Laura about her brother’s offer?”
“I don’t know. Cappleman sent a parcel for Laura, no doubt he’ll make the case for himself in the letter, but I wanted to talk to you first.”
Elias stared into middle distance, setting his eyes to the horizon, staring further and further at the point where the sea met the sky. On days as clear as this one, he could even detect the curvature of the earth. Suddenly, he missed the sea and the movement under his feet. Even the heart-stopping terror of boarding a pirate galiot in flames was better than this overwhelming feeling of helplessness.
Behind him he could hear Sophia arrive and murmur something softly to her husband. He squeezed his eyes tight for a second to collect himself and turned back to his guests clear-eyed.
“I’ll support whatever decision Laura makes.”
*
She stared at the reflection in the hall mirror.
For a moment, the woman who stared back at her was foreign, a young woman with fine features and a clear complexion, a trim figure wearing a striking dress to great effect. She brought her hand to her neck and touched the strand of simple pearls that matched the single pearl in each ear. The jewelry was both delicate and appropriate for an afternoon tea party.
She felt the fact that the young woman was her, in a strangely distant way. She settled a smile on the young woman’s face and realized she was actually quite pretty. Memories of balls and house parties returned, the flirtations that brought a thrill, the girlish dreams of marrying a baron, count or duke – handsome and wealthy men on bended knee pledging their everlasting devotion.
How far away she was from that girl. Time and experience had changed her. There was a hint of maturity around the jaw; her figure was that of a woman, not a girl. However, the real change was in her eyes – not their shape or the color, of course, but in the way they seemed to see more, notice more.
The sound of cheers from the lawn drew her through the villa and out onto the back lawn. Under the shade of a spreading plane tree, Morwena and Sophia sat at a table of refreshments.
Out in the sun, the men had started a cricket game. Jonathan stood at bat. Kit, who was fielding with some of the children from the household, cupped his hands and said something.
Laura was still too far away to hear but the accompanying laughter told her he’d made a jest. Her eyes found Elias even before she realized she was searching for him. He stood at the crease, juggling two leather-bound balls to the cheers of another group of children. These she recognized from the village. Elias tossed one of the balls to a dark-haired boy of about seven years of age who ran with his prize, gleefully chased by a small clutch of friends.
She approached, keeping out of the sight line of the spectators, her attention on Elias.
She painted a portrait of him in her mind’s eye, a miniature only she would see. The way the sun added strands of copper in his light brown hair, the wave in it picked up by the breeze. He had rolled his sleeves up to the elbows, revealing sun-browned forearms. His breeches were grey and faded with many washes but they only served to emphasize the trimness of his waist and the muscled strength of his legs.
He started to walk away from the wicket, pausing to grin, undoubtedly in response to one of Kit’s teasing asides. The expression stopped her heart; it recognized what she could not dare utter aloud.
She loved him. And she was leaving him.
Samuel’s letter recalled itself to her, dangling the promise of life the way it was before coming to Palermo. A whole two years erased, torn up like a spoiled sketch, to begin again without the reminders. She told herself she missed England, the way the soft morning light would rise over the hills at the country estate. The wild Yorkshire moors were part of her family’s ancestral history. She never really got to capture the light reflecting on the pooled water of the fens, serene but dangerous, where many an unwary traveler had lost their lives.
Sophia looked back at that moment, saw her, and patted a seat beside her on the bench.
“The way these boys play…you’d think it was life and death, instead of a game,” said Morwena cheerfully. She offered Laura a bottle of lemonade from the chilled bucket of water.
“It’s a very English thing to take cricket seriously,” said Sophia. “I remember cheering on Samuel when he and his friends used to play.”
But Laura’s eyes and attention were only on Elias. She found him attractive – how could she not? It wasn’t just his physique, although a finer specimen she struggled to recall. He was kind, generous and patient. In short, he was everything a woman could want to find in a husband. She should be thrilled that such a man wanted to marry her.
Instead of walking back, Elias approached the crease at a run. The village children called, “Oooooooo” with a rising voice as he threw the ball in an over-arm pitch. A startled Jonathan leaned back, but his bat connected. It sent the ball high. Everyone cheered.
Jonathan took off for the opposite crease, and Kit raced for the ball, but slowed as two of the village boys contested for it. They came up empty handed.
The laughter was contagious. Elias, Kit and Jonathan abandoned the game in favor of the children who eagerly raced to see who would be the first at bat. The men approached the shaded picnic, their faces bright with sweat, handsome and unambiguously male. Laura watched the appreciative gaze of Sophia and Morwena at their husbands. Her chest ached. The depth of her envy startled even her.
Her eyes found Elias’ and the smile on his face faltered just a little. He was withdrawing from her, abandoning her just as surely as she was abandoning him.
It’s still not too late, her mind protested. She could accept his offer of marriage and be safe here… no, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be just half a wife to a man who deserved someone who loved him completely. While a part of her was missing, she could never be that woman.
And yet, her heart quickened when he made his way in her direction.
She had begun to rise from her seat when Gina crossed between them with baby Benjamin in her arms. The boy bounced in the girl’s arms and waved his chubby little hands. “Pa, pa, pa!”
Elias reached forward and took the chortling babe in his arms. Laura was struck by the intimacy of the moment. It was as though she were watching a mother and father with their child.
It was the cruelest of ironies that the man and woman in front of her were neither.