by Wolf, Jack
And then mine Heart did truly stop; for the Person I beheld was neither Nathaniel, nor Viviane. It was Katherine.
She was standing alone upon the Gravel, her Countenance uplifted and her Expression wild. Her blonde Hair, loose in the swirling Wind, whippt up a radiant Halo about her Head, and her Skin shone in the silvery Light like Alabaster. About her delicate Shoulders, she wore a thick, grey-green felted Cloak, of the stile Ladies commonly wear for travelling; beneath it, a dark coloured Gown of some Scots Cloth, or Linsey-woolsey, that hung heavy with Wet, and looked to be compleatly muddy from the Knee to the Hem. Her small Shoes and her Stockings were so filthied they were fit for nothing but the Fire.
She was the most beautifull thing I had ever seen.
Within her white Fist, she clutched a fourth Stone, and as I stared, too astonished for the Moment to do anything else, she drew back her Arm and hurled it at my Window with sufficient Force to have cracked the Glass if it had hit; but it bounced harmlessly off the Ivy.
I leapt to my Feet and scrambled to unlatch my Shutters before she should throw again, and thrust up the Sash. Cold Breeze snatched at my Face.
“Katherine!” I shouted. “Is’t you, or do I dream?”
“Oh, Tristan! Tristan! Yes, ’tis me, my Bloody Bones, truly it is! Have someone let me in before I freeze! Your Butler would not—I think he mistook me for a Vagabond!”
“Come to the Door,” I told her. “I shall let you in My Self.”
I pulled my Window down, and fastened my Shutters tight. There would have been little Point in bringing Katherine in to Safety if Raw Head and his Goblins could have got in also. We would have been Mice in a Trap. This done, I ran quick and silent down-Stairs to the front Door, and slid back the iron Bolts. I opened the Door.
Katherine hurtled up the Steps. If I had yet had any lingering Doubts that she was anything but her own, real, Self, they vanished into nothing as I enfolded her at last within mine Arms. She was solid, and alive. Her blonde Hair smelled of Oil and Rain, there was a Leaf upon her Shoulder, and her Lips were warm against mine own, despite the bitter Coldness of her Hands and Face, the clinging Dampe of her Mud-bespattered Cloathes. At once I brought her within the House, and fastened shut the Door. Then I took up her quick Body once more into mine Embrace.
“Egad,” I said, when I had Chance again to speak. “How far have you walked?”
“Only from Highworth,” she answered, breathless, kissing me a few Times more upon my Chin. “I travelled with the Post from Weymouth. Oh, you are grown so terribly thin, my Love! Mr Simmins told me you were not well, but I could not come before. I would have, but—”
“Alone?” I said.
“Yes, yes, alone! I have run away. Mama hath not the slightest Notion where I am. Nor doth she care, I am sure! When Mr Simmins arrived with your Answer to my Letter, and I told her of your Offer, for you know I had not said aught of it before, she would not believe at all that you were honest. She called me a vicious Slut, and worse, and cast me out. I stayed a few Weeks with my Uncle Whitcross, but he only wanted me for an Housemaid, so as soon as I could I took my Wages, which he would never have given me otherwise, from his Purse; and I got a Lift in a Farmer’s Cart as far as Weymouth, and for the last Part I walked here. Tell me true; really have you read all of my Tale, and really it is still your Desire to marry me?”
Mine Heart beat hard and fast within my Chest. “Yes,” I said. “I have never had any other.”
“Then I will marry you, I will! I love you,” Katherine said.
I scooped her off her Feet. The dampe Slub of her Dress was coarse against mine Hands, and tho’ she was light as a Butterfly, her Skirts hung Curtain heavy against my Thighs. My Loins, for the first Time since I had left London, began to rouse.
“No doubt you are tired,” I said. “And hungry.”
“I am hungry! But not so very tired, now I am with you.”
I was aware of nothing but the Grasp of her slim Arms about my Neck; the Pressure of her Skull against my Shoulder; the sour Perfume of her Scalp; the moist Warmth of her Breath upon my Throat. I carried her up-Stairs to my Study, and placed her carefully upon my Sopha, where the medical Tract I had been reading lay yet open to her unobstructed View. I slippt it quickly out of Sight, and turned to stoke the Fire. The red Coals burned extreamly hot, but Katherine shivered.
“Sweet Heart,” I said, kneeling before her on the Rugg and chafing her chill Hands briskly between mine own. “You must eat at once, and bathe. Make no Noise. Stay there.”
Springing from the Floor, I caught up my Bell, and ran out of the Room to the Top of the Stairs. I rang hard and loudly for Mrs H., and I did not let up until I saw her slowly mounting the lower Staircase, a Candle in her Hand.
“Mrs Henderson, I will take that Tray!” I called out. “And bring me red Wine, and Chocolate, and Comfits; bring me sugared Plums! And have a Bath prepared in my dressing Room!”
Mrs H. sighed. “I shall tell Mr Stevens that he will be needed, Master Tristan,” she said.
“Stevens? No, no, no; Mrs H.; I require a Bath, not a Valet. Let Stevens remain where he may do some good; with my Father. Do you believe I know not how to wash?”
Mrs H. opened her Mouth as if to speak again, but then shut it up.
“For God’s Sake, Woman,” I said. “Dost think I plan to drown My Self?”
Mrs H. having departed, I returned to Katherine. She had taken off her muddy Cloak and her wet Shoes, and settled herself as closely by the Fire as she could. Faint Wisps of Steam rose from the sodden Hem of her Skirt, and her pale Features had grown ruddy with the Heat.
I bit my Lip. The Brightness of her almost hurt mine Eyes. So vivid; so present; so intensely alive. She is here, here, here. I remembered how I had used to dream her Presence beside me, how I had imagined, so many Times, the Velvet of her untouched Skin beneath my Hands, the Curlew’s Whistle of her Scream.
Am I dreaming now? I thought. If ’tis a Dream, I will not wake.
“Art well, Love?” I whispered, settling My Self beside her upon the Rugg. She smiled, without speaking, and leaned her slender Body close against my Chest. I put mine Arms around her and buried my Face in the dampe Silk of her Hair. She was more real than anything in mine Existence.
“Why must I make no Noise?” she said.
“Because I intend to keep you to My Self,” I said. “I will not hurt you.”
“Ah,” she breathed. A Sliver of Excitement sparkled in her Voice. “I would not dislike it, Bloody Bones.”
I brushed my Fingertips against her naked Throat. “Why did not you write?”
“Oh, Tristan, I could not,” she said, angry; tho’ not with me. “Mama would not let me, and my Uncle keeps his Paper under Lock and Key against anyone stealing it. But be damned the both of them. You have me now, and will not ever lose me.”
I thought then to have asked her what she had intended in asking whether I had read her Tale, and what she meant me to have understood from it, but my Courage failed me; the Words would not form.
Katherine wriggled herself around within the Circlet of mine Arms until her Mouth was a mere half-Inch from mine own; but we were interrupted by a soft Tap upon the Door. I swore, and tho’ with some Reluctance, scrambled up to answer it; for it had dawned on me that it must be the dinner Tray I had required. I found that it was not Mrs H. herself, but one of the Chambermaids, so recent in her Employ that I had not yet learned her Name. I opened the Door just enough to take from her the Tray, which was exceeding full, then retreated rapidly into my Sanctuary, closing the study Door and locking it.
Katherine sate up straight, and Hunger coursed thro’ all the fine Bones of her Face. I carried the Tray across and laid it on the Floor in front of her. “Eat,” I said. “Drink.”
She was hungry, far too hungry, to have any Use for Manners. She ate like a Savage, or a Child: tearing off great Chunks of Bread and dipping them in Wine, clawing up Handfuls of rich sugared Fruits and cramming her Mouth till it was a
lmost too full for her to swallow. I lay back and watched as her white, uneven Teeth sliced fierce into cold Chicken and boiled Ham, stripping the Bones. Eventually, as her ravenous Fit began to be appeased, she slowed a little; and then I joined her, to sip the red Wine from her Goblet, and share in her broken Crusts, and feed her Comfits from the very Palm of mine Hand. She laid her fair Head in mine aching Lap; and then she smiled.
I leaned over her. Her Lips parted, and with an increasing Hunger of mine own, I slowly slid my Tongue deeply into her Mouth. She tasted of Sugar and Wine.
For the second Time, I was prevented; now by the Maid’s Voice thro’ my study Door, informing me that the Bath I had demanded was got ready, and was awaiting me in my dressing Room. I gave a low Growl of Frustration. Katherine sate up, and put her Hands about mine Head, kneading the croppt Hairs upon my Neck between her Fingertips and seeking to pull me close again. But I had by now recollected mine original Intent. I stood up, and held out mine open Hand.
“Your Bath is ready,” I said.
Candle Flames gleamed in her Eyes. Suddenly, as if she had not been intirely sure that she should do it until that precise Moment, she caught hold of mine Hand.
Pausing only to unlock, and to make fast again, the Doors between, lest some Gnome or anyone else intrude upon us, I led Katherine thro’ the House to my Chamber, and thence to mine adjoining dressing Room, where the hot Bath lay wreathed in silvery Steam, despite the new-lit Fire.
I made her to lie down upon the Floor, and kneeling astride her, took from my coat Pocket my small Etui. A sharp Breath escaped her, and she swallowed. I felt her Breastbone shiver beneath mine Hand. “Shh,” I whispered.
Her Eyes grew very wide, and glimmered in the Firelight like Mercury. I leaned over her, pinning her down, tho’ there was no Need, with mine Hand, and breathed in deep the rich Scent of her Flesh. The Fragrance spun thro’ my Blood like alcoholic Vapour.
Katherine whimpered. I twisted my Fingers into her wind-tangled Hair. Will I bleed her again, I thought? I turned her Arm within mine Hand, feeling for the puckered Scars that crosst the thin Silk of her inner Elbow. I found them easily. Many were fresh. The Scabs felt hard against my Fingertips, like rough sewn Thread.
“I am sorry,” she whispered.
I sate up again, and removed my Lancet from its Case. Yellow Light glinted sharp upon the Blade.
Then with one Movement, I stretched out mine Arm, and slashed thro’ all the Lacings of her Bodice. The tight Stays fell open and tumbled away, falling Veils. Katherine gave a shocked Shriek, but I muffled her Cry within mine own Mouth. When once again she was quiet, I sate back, and still straddling her, I swiftly dissected every Article of her Dress that posed any Barrier between her Body and mine own, and threw the Rags behind the coal Scuttle.
At length, her Body lay undisguised upon the Floor, her unblemished, translucent Skin glistening in the Firelight. Soon, I told My Self, with a Stab of Guilt, oh, soon, that beautifull Fabric will be marked; and it shall be into a Pattern of my Design and Making, with Proportion and Grace: a Work of Art.
I restored my Lancet to mine Etui, and then carefully I rolled down the filthy Stockings that covered each Leg from the Thigh to Toe. Beneath the blue Worsted, which was too thin to have been of any Use, her Feet were bruised and blistered, tender to my Touch. I kissed them both.
Such Wonder now possesst me at the Idea that this Joy, this Marvell, could be mine, that I was forced to catch my Breath. I had presumed that the animal Urge, to fuck, had been quite dead in me; but at the Sight and Scent of her, shivering beneath me, I was struck by the Suspicion that it had, perhaps, been only sleeping. Could I? I thought. Will I?
I looked into her Eyes and she stared back, without Fear.
“I have loved you,” Katherine said, “since I was nine Yeares old.”
I suddenly remembered the small, blonde girl-Child sitting so still, her unwavering Gaze so disconcerting, underneath the Willow Tree. “Morris off, Kitty!” Nathaniel had shouted.
“You sate watching me,” I said.
“I was always watching you,” she whispered. “I loved you.”
I gathered her nude Form into mine Arms and lifted her gently into the still warm, steaming Waters of the Bath. Then I removed my Coat and Waistcoat, that neither they nor my precious Sketch should become wet, and rolling up my Shirt-sleeves to mine Elbows I dippt mine Hands deep beneath the Surface, and washed away from her all the Uncleanliness of her long Journey, and of her Servitude in her Uncle’s House. I poured out lavender Water upon her Head, and washed her beautifull Hair, that had been so dulled, until it shone again like fire-spun Gold. At length, I assisted her to rise, like Venus, and wrappt her sweet Frame in an embroidered Turkish Towel I had left to warm before the Fire. I carried her from the dressing Room and laid her down upon my Bed.
“Lie still.” Carefully, I dried her Milk-white Skin, her slender Arms, her Breasts, her little, blistered Feet. I tasted the lymph Salt of her Heels; I kissed her Knees, her Thighs, the golden Mound below her Belly where the Fleece grew, dampe, and soft as Lambskin. I ran my Fingers over her downy Curls, that for so long I had yearned to caress, and then probed farther.
She opened her Mouth; upon an Impulse, I put mine other Hand hard across it, and looked down upon her. Her Eyes opened wide. I lifted mine Hand. She caught, and presst it between her own, her Palms upraised as if in Prayer.
“Hurt me,” she whispered, breathlessly. “Please, hurt me, Tristan.”
All the Spirits in my Body surged towards my Loins with such a Violence that for an Instant, I was convinced that my Passion would over-run its Cup. I put mine Hands about her Throat.
“You did not obey me,” I said. “You cut yourself.”
Her Pulse fluttered beneath my Fingers. “Yes.”
I remembered how I had stood outside the Church at Collerton upon the Daye we had met, trying in sorry vain to numb my Mind to the Desire to beat her slender Body until the Blood spurted. Then I remembered too, and with a horrible Stab of black Guilt, Annie; and mine Heart quailed within me. But this was Katherine, my Katherine, my Leonora; and no more could I deny her than the very Breath of my Lungs.
Gloria in excelsis Deo: Let me expiate my Sin; Deo: the Stroake falls; Deo: the bare Breath catches in her Throat; Deo: she struggles, desperate as a netted Curlew; Deo: and she screams out; Oh, Oh, Oh!
Then Memory shewed me again how perfect she had appeared to me, lying at peace upon my laboratory Sopha. Beautifull, and wonderfull.
Before God, I realised, there is neither Evil in that which we desire, nor in that which we do. No unnatural Lust, no Insult to His earthly Creation. This is an Act of Beauty.
I took mine Hands from her Neck. “Do not move,” I said.
I scrambled from the Bed, and retrieved mine Etui from the Pocket of my Coat. Opening it, I searched thro’ it for the very Blade I had used on her those many Months ago. Withdrawing it, I placed it in readiness upon the bedside Table and returned to Katherine. She shivered, like a Flower in a slight Breeze. Mine Excitation again increased. I took a deep Breath, struggling to restrain it. “Give me your Hand,” I said. “Why did you return to cutting yourself? Answer me truly.”
Her Eyes flickered like Stars. “I was frightened,” she said. “I thought—I was afraid that—that I could not have you, Bloody Bones.”
“Listen,” I told her in a grave Tone, cradling her delicate Carpal Joint within my Palm. “You are mine, Leonora. Katherine. You belong to me, and with me, and as you have sworn to me that I shall never lose you, so the same is true for me. I will never permit that you be lost. I love you.”
“Oh!” she said, her slender Wrist beginning to tremble. “Are you angry with me?”
“No; but you must not doubt me.”
“It is not, verily, you I doubt,” she cried. “I fear that I am dreaming, and shall wake, and find that I am still at home, and that we did not ever meet; and I am wicked, wicked!”
I parted her Legs, and made her t
o lie compleatly still, and then I raised both her Arms level with her Shoulders, as in Vitruvius. Her Body in the Firelight became as shining Marble. O, Thou art Beautifull, O My Love; as Tirzah. I lifted my Scalpel. My Loins ached. The Moment sang.
What is this? Love: I love, I love; each Word, each Note curtailed by a Kiss. I reached for my Lancet.
“Keep open your Eyes,” I commanded her. “And watch.”
I turned Katherine’s Wrist, so that the Back of her Hand was uppermost, and pinned her bent Arm firmly against my Knee. White Excitement spun mine Head, and I was almost undone. I steadied My Self, took in a deep Breath, and applied the Blade to the ivory Epidermis of her Forearm. She gasped. One upward, diagonal Stroake, and then a downward. T. Her Skin was fragile. I lifted her Arm to shew her. “Shall I stop?”
“No.” Her Eyes were radiant. “No.”
I paused, breathless, waiting for the Cut to clot; then focusing mine Attention intensely upon my Work, I wiped away the Blood and lowered the Scalpel once more to her delicate, velvet Skin. Mine whole World had clarified, all Time and all Sensation, into the right Angle between her Body and my Blade.
A new Strength flooded into me as if from Heaven, or from her, dispelling all Anxiety. In that Moment I understood that to possess Power such as this meant to be irreducibly alive, utterly present, to the very Core; and this angelic Presence, this Awareness raced thro’ every Atom of my Flesh, quickening mine every Nerve, mine every tiny Muscle till my Body sang with an Alertness beyond anything I had before experienced. It rushed thro’ me, thro’ my scrolling Scalpel, and thro’ Katherine. Then I felt as if she and I were, in subtile Quintessence, become one Being; and her Mind was my Mind, her Sensations, mine; her Pain, mine own.
Steel thro’ Flesh. And as I had known that she would not, she did not struggle to escape, but lay still, breathing fast, small mewling Whimpers catching in her Throat; of Pleasure or of Pain, and I could not tell for which, and it did not matter; until at the final Cut, her whole Body trembled, and my Fingers shook. I slippt my Scalpel back within its Case and flexed mine Hand. Her Forearm was wet with her Blood. Carefully, I presst the Towel against it, soaking up the little Flow until the rich Embroidery was dyed quite red, and the Bleeding had almost ceased. Then I removed it, and beheld mine Handiwork.