Samuel knelt back by my side. To my mother he said, “You invited him here?”
Mother flicked her fan open. “Of course not here. No one knows she’s here, let alone her fiancé. I’m not stupid, Dr. Deston.”
Samuel’s strong voice filled the room. “You mistake my meaning, ma’am. Regardless, she is not ready to see him. She’s clearly distraught because of the invitation. Who knows how she’ll be when presented with the man. Don’t put her through this.”
“No, I think this is the exact enticement she needs,” Mother persisted. “If she doesn’t work hard to improve, she will then have to show her condition to the man she is to marry. It is up to her to avoid her own embarrassment, and I know how much she wants to keep her stay here out of the town gossip. So . . .”
My rocking ceased as I listened. I wondered if Mother’s opinion would change if she realized that she had just opened the door to a murderer.
I played the only card I had left: I pretended to faint.
Dr. Patterson chose that moment to come in. Since my eyes were closed, I could see nothing, but the long silence was telling. I’d worried them, or at the least confused them.
“Samuel, take Isabelle to her room. Have Agatha stay with her the rest of the afternoon.”
Strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me from the ground to carry me up to my room. As we left, I heard Mother say, “Perhaps she will feel better in the morning.” There were no good-byes.
CHAPTER 18
The following day brought little change to my mood. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything. If my sanctuary was no longer safe, why even try to pretend? I’d done all I could to keep Gregory away and yet he found a way to harm me even at Bellevue.
For lunch Agatha insisted I eat outside. “Fresh air will do you good,” she promised.
She brought a tray of lemonade and sandwiches with us and sat beside me in the patio chairs under the large oak tree.
Despite the tree’s cover, the sun shined warmly upon our part of the yard. It felt good not to be layered with flimsy shawls or handling a dainty umbrella, but rather to let the sun shine upon me without restriction.
Agatha took a bite of her sandwich and leaned her head back into the sun. “I love these days. The warm sun and cool breeze . . . It’s perfect.”
I hadn’t thought that way since before Bellevue. Looking up at the clear blue sky, I tried to release the tension from my shoulders. Just as I was ready to fully relax, a twig snapped by the neighbors’ lawn. I jumped and was immediately ready to run.
“There she is!” a man gasped, his voice muffled by the tall, thick bushes. “Isn’t she the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“She is pretty,” another voice agreed.
Neither man sounded like the spies I’d heard outside my window. I glanced at Agatha, but her eyes were still closed; apparently she hadn’t heard them. Unable to warn her with my words, I instead lurched to my feet and grabbed a fork off the tray. I jabbed Agatha hard in the arm. She squealed.
“Isabelle!” she exclaimed. “What the devil got into you?” She rubbed her arm where I had jabbed the fork.
The fork fell from my hand. Agatha glanced from the fork to me. She clasped my hand in hers and pulled me back into the chair besides her. “Everything is fine. Take a deep breath and calm down.”
Before I could respond, the bushes rustled again and two men stepped through. The shorter of the two raised his hand and called out, “Agatha!”
Her head spun so quickly I thought she was upset, but her face exploded in a smile.
“Elbert,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you until next Friday.”
Elbert ran the last few steps and kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t wait. Besides, Colin here leaves town tomorrow and I wanted him to meet you before the wedding.”
“Shhhhh!” Agatha released my hand and pressed a finger to her lips. “I haven’t told Dr. Patterson yet.”
“You will tell him before the wedding, won’t you?” Elbert shifted from side to side. “I know you love it here, but—”
Agatha pressed her hands to his lips. “I will tell him just as soon as we have a date set.”
Silly girl, I scolded myself. Agatha is engaged to this man. She is the woman they were talking about, not you. I shook my head at my foolishness and stood up.
Agatha grabbed my hand and drew me to her side. “This is Isabelle, Elbert.” Then to me she said, “This is my fiancé, Isabelle. I trust you won’t give us away and tell Dr. Patterson until we are ready?”
She looked at me and grinned. I nodded. She knew I wasn’t going to tell anyone anything.
Glancing back at the door, she explained, “Dr. Patterson said that you are to rest for the remainder of the day. Can I trust you will go to your room?”
I put my hands together and then pressed them to my cheek, indicating I wished to sleep, and left her with her betrothed. In truth, I was suddenly tired. Tired of watching over my shoulder and tired of being silent.
When I returned to my room there was a letter waiting on my pillow.
My eyes glistened with joy as I tore open the letter. Lucy’s messy scrawl filled the pages. Before I’d even read a word, I felt a weight lift from me. Lucy mustn’t hate me if she’d taken the trouble to send me such a letter.
I read:
Dearest Izzy,
Where are you? One day you were here, the next Abigail said you’d left town—without leaving word for me! Is something wrong?
Oh, Izzy, my life is falling apart. I followed your advice, yet Mother is still marrying me off to some New York City gentleman. Mother tells everyone she can that she snagged a millionaire for me, but all I can wonder is why my reputation means so little to him. What kind of man marries a woman who says she’s lost her virtue?
If I could, I’ d tell you face to face, but for now, this letter must suffice. I need Patrick. He is the man I will spend my forever with . . . him and no one else!
So, I bought a ticket and am leaving tomorrow. I know this means I may never see you or my family ever again, but I have to go. I don’t know how long it will take, but I will have the life I want. Please forgive me.
Below, I’ve included the address of the hotel I’ ll stay in while waiting to marry Patrick. Please write, even if it’s to chastise me.
I miss you, my dear friend.
Lucy
I crumpled the letter in my hands.
“Good for you, Lucy,” I said aloud, despite the uneasy feeling in my stomach. She was giving up her whole world for Patrick. In my entire life there wasn’t anyone I’d make so great a sacrifice for—except perhaps Lucy.
Grabbing a pen and paper, I wrote out every detail of my ordeal for Lucy: how I had seen Gregory kill Katerina, how I suspected that he knew I had witnessed it, how I came to be at Bellevue, how Mother refused to see things my way, and finally how I feared for my life. Even though, way out West, Lucy would be so far away from anyone we knew, my heart still skipped a beat as I folded the cream-colored pages and considered the prospect of gossipy eyes finding my letter. But Lucy deserved to know every detail, and I felt a great weight had been lifted in confessing everything I knew to my beloved and most trusting friend. I blotted the ink of the address she’d given me on the front.
Once I’d laid my life so completely out on paper, I couldn’t think clearly. Taunting me, the trees outside my window blew back and forth. They knew my secret. They reminded me that they were holding my soul in their branches. If I laid one step beyond them, Gregory would have me. This building was both my salvation and my prison. I opened my mouth to cry, but there was nothing left.
The next thing I knew, I was being rocked. For a moment, I assumed it was Agatha, but as the woman holding me hummed, I recognized Mrs. Lincoln’s soft tunes. Her cheek lay against my forehead.
“There you are, child. You seem yourself again.” She pulled away and looked down at me. “Why, whatever frightened you?”
My face was wet,
my hair matted against my cheeks. I tried to make a sound in response, but nothing came out. Instead I sighed and rested against her warm shoulder. Was I truly going mad? What had happened that I should need to be rocked like a child?
Her normally stern face relaxed in sympathy. “Is there a reason for it, dear?”
I could not lie to her. I nodded.
“Will you tell me?” She pulled away from me and lifted my chin. “I know there is a reason you don’t speak, but nothing is gained from suffering fear alone.”
I paused. At some point I’d have to trust someone, or at least try. Even though I had written everything out to Lucy, she could not help me from where she was. I needed someone here to be on my side. Before I knew it, the words came pouring out. I explained how Mother was forcing me to visit with Gregory, despite my being unhappy with him. I stopped short of sharing the whole story, however. I wasn’t ready to trust her that much.
“Mother will not understand anything. All she cares about is her reputation and the silly ladies she calls on. I am second to everyone and everything. Now . . . Now . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to speak the truth of Gregory. “Now she is doing the worst possible thing for my health.”
Mrs. Lincoln shushed me. “You poor child. Is there anything I can do?”
I shook my head. Agatha grunted in the hallway, and something clinked on a tray.
“You need a break from this place,” Mrs. Lincoln declared hurriedly. A fervor overcame her, and she patted my knee excitedly. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow I shall take you for a carriage ride, and you’ll feel better. The fresh air will do us both good.”
Time away from Bellevue, alone with Mrs. Lincoln. The idea both relieved and terrified me.
CHAPTER 19
The carriage jostled to and fro, forcing me to concentrate on how I sat in order to avoid knocking against the sides. We rode down the river walk alongside dozens of carriages, ladies and men on horses and casual couples walking with their heads tilted in private conversations. Here, among Batavia society, Mrs. Lincoln and I looked the very essence of propriety. The smell of summer was in the air as were the river bugs, which crawled over my sweaty skin. Across from me, Mrs. Lincoln’s eyes had glazed over. Despite the bouncing of the carriage, I leaned forward and placed my hands on her knees. Immediately, she blinked and turned her attention toward me.
“I’m glad you’ve come with me today, Isabelle. I’ve gone for rides nearly every day and felt so isolated from the beauty around me. All these people are having normal fun. They don’t see how close they might be to illness. But with you here, I feel a part of their gaiety. Like I’ve a friend to spend time with as well. I no longer feel alone.” Mrs. Lincoln looked around us at the others who rode along the lane.
Two girls sat on the grass, their heads together and their braids dangling as they giggled. I’d have given anything to be that carefree again. If only I could have gone back and done it all again, surely I’d have done better.
Mrs. Lincoln focused on me. “Now, tell me of your mother. Why is she forcing this man upon you?”
Behind her, the driver’s shoulders twitched. My stomach flipped uncomfortably. Disappointment filled my chest. I wouldn’t be speaking to Mrs. Lincoln today. I couldn’t risk giving Gregory more information.
“Isabelle, we are far from Bellevue’s prying eyes. You can speak freely.”
I can’t, I thought and turned my face away from her pleading eyes.
“God gave you a voice, child,” she urged. “Use it.”
It was as though she had slapped me. Her mood swings forced me to admit that her son may have had reason to seek help for her. Perhaps it wasn’t all about the money after all. Our eyes met, and the world faded away. For a moment it was only the two of us. The challenge she presented to me hung in the air between us, like a threatening storm. I glanced around, hoping for some excuse to avoid giving in to her.
“There is no one here of importance. Talk to me,” she urged.
Trees blurred as we passed them by, the branches brushing against the top of our driver’s head. I gestured toward the driver and shook my head. I wouldn’t allow anyone to undermine me so easily. I’d worked too hard to have my safety snatched away from me in a careless moment. Mrs. Lincoln sighed.
“Isabelle, that man doesn’t care if you speak or not. He doesn’t even know who you are.” She didn’t understand what danger I faced, I reminded myself. However, I couldn’t explain it to her without risking exposure.
Men with bowler hats and pronounced mustaches walked beside us in the shade of the morning. Ladies with bustles and parasols glided past, unencumbered by heavy thoughts. I longed for my life back, for the time when I could walk through the day without fear or regrets. One of the men caught my eye and tipped his hat at me. For a moment, my breath caught in my throat, but then he turned to another woman and gestured similarly. I turned my attention away from him, hoping to blend in with the other afternoon riders.
Mrs. Lincoln adjusted her gloves and smoothed her skirt as she watched me. I knew she was waiting for me to speak, but I’d been too weak already. And here we were in public; I couldn’t let go where anyone might hear. My silence was the only weapon I had. My beating heart reminded me of what would happen if I gave in to her request. Gregory was out there waiting for me.
I looked into Mrs. Lincoln’s eyes and shook my head. Then I covered my mouth with my hand, making sure she understood my meaning. Instantly, her face tightened, and what little smile she had for me disappeared.
“Isabelle, I brought you with me for a nice ride. We are away from the doctors and all the staff. Talk to me. I want to be your friend.”
Her eyes were earnest as she took my hand. But there was nothing she could’ve done to make me speak. The previous night was a fluke, one I’d do my best to avoid in the future, especially now that Gregory had plans to try to see me. I had to be vigilant. The way she pushed me to talk made it all too clear how little she actually understood.
Again, I shook my head and covered my mouth.
“I see,” she said. “You only wish to speak when it pleases you. No matter what strings I had to pull for our little adventure. Well, just see if I try to soothe your nightmares again.”
I opened my mouth in surprise. I never would’ve expected the nastiness that seethed from her. Her friendship was indeed a precious gift, but I had to protect myself. She snapped her fingers and directed the driver to return home.
We rode back to Bellevue in chilling silence.
Upon our return, I ignored every bit of propriety I’d ever been taught and jumped out of the carriage, leaving the woman to gawk behind me. I held my skirt high as I ran to the back of the house and burst into the kitchen, my mind whirring. No matter how I longed for her friendship, the price was just too great.
Agatha, Cook, and Samuel were all sitting on stools around the wooden table. I walked over and sat down.
“What are you doing back so soon?” Cook asked.
Agatha looked around us. “I thought you went for a ride with Mrs. Lincoln today?”
I ignored both of them and sighed. Samuel shifted his stool so there was room for me to sit comfortably. I pulled an orange toward me and began peeling it. They continued their conversation, but my ears were buzzing so loudly I couldn’t hear a thing. Mrs. Lincoln’s pain reverberated through me. She was lonely too and I’d hurt her.
Perhaps if she had insisted earlier that I speak I would’ve complied, but I couldn’t be caught speaking now. Not only would Dr. Patterson release me, but if the spies knew I was only pretending to be insane they would report it back to Gregory. I had to be sure no one questioned my stability.
“You’ve gone pale, Isabelle,” Samuel said, putting his hands in his lap. “Is everything all right?”
No, I wanted to say. I’m so tired. It feels as if Gregory’s eyes have followed my every step, and Mrs. Lincoln is angry with me. And Lucy . . . everything is ruined. But I said nothing. Instead, I clasped my hands in my
lap and squeezed. Long ago I’d hurt my hand and if I pressed the right spot, incredible pain erupted up my arm. I needed the pain to help me.
“Marilla’s feverish today. Isabelle appears flushed. Perhaps an illness is spreading through the patients.” Agatha looked slightly alarmed. “I’ll give her some tonic.”
Samuel nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off me. They all cared for me. Realizing that made the deception harder, but it had to be done. They could not view me as a friend. I was a patient. I jammed my thumb against my knuckle and gasped. A wet, warm streak ran down my cheek. I inhaled sharply. “You all right, child?” Cook asked.
Gregory’s visit pressed against me, and I could feel the threat as if it were a being all its own. It would crush me if I was not careful. Crying wasn’t enough. They had to see me as more than weak.
Cook and Samuel spoke in hushed tones to one another while Agatha rifled through the small medicine cabinet in the kitchen for the tonic.
Without warning I clenched my hands into fists and pressed them against my temples. Cook’s whispers stopped and I felt the attention turn to me. While they watched, I beat my fists upon my head. The pain in my one arm still reverberated.
“Stop her!” Agatha shouted as she slammed the cabinet closed.
Samuel lunged toward me. His strong grip stopped my self-abuse and he wrapped his body around me so I couldn’t move at all. I’d seen him hold other patients like this after an attack, but it was different experiencing it. Had Katerina felt so helpless with Gregory? The very thought made me squirm to get away, but Samuel’s grip didn’t loosen. My ears buzzed and my throat itched. I shouldn’t have tried to deceive these people. I needed to get away.
“Isabelle, relax,” Samuel whispered.
“You’re safe, dear,” Cook agreed.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Agatha pouring a spoonful of tonic. She came toward me, a look of determination on her face. I’d had enough of tonics. Dr. Carson’s always seemed to knock me out and I’d have none of that now.
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