Lizzie, My Love

by Sara Bennett - Lizzie, My Love

  There were others there, all patronizing, taking their cue from their hostess, Lizzie thought wryly. Mr. Bailey was not as old as she had been led to believe. In his late forties, perhaps, though illness had aged him and his wrists were like sticks coming from the cuffs of his shirt.

  She felt sorry for him—after all, their situations were of a muchness—and sat with him after the meal, talking about her voyage from London. He laughed at her jokes, and his eyes were warm and grateful, a little like a dog which has been ill-treated and now finds itself with a kinder master. But his gaze, every now and again, slid away to where Angelica stood, fascinating her little audience. She was as beautiful as a star, and her husband obviously still loved her despite what she had done to him.

  “She’s very lovely, isn’t she?” he asked Lizzie. He turned, meeting her eyes eagerly, hands gripping the rests of his chair a little nervously. “I married her in Sydney Town, you know. I was not so... helpless then. She was on the stage there. Came in from London and took the town by storm. I fell in love with her, and she with me. Of course, it was different, with me able to get out of this acursed chair in those days. I matched her, dare for dare. Now...’his hands went limp, and he stared down at the floor, suddenly old and worn out.

  “She is very lovely,” Lizzie murmured gently.

  He made no motion that he had heard her. Had Angelica loved him? Or had she loved the thought of his money and his cloak of respectability and being mistress of her own home and servants? Perhaps she had loved him, when he was able to match her. But now he was confined to an invalid’s chair, Angelica felt herself free to look elsewhere. He must realize that. He was obviously not a fool.

  “Mrs. Gray.”

  She looked up into the bright blue eyes in the worn, pain-creased features. “Mr. Bailey? I’m sorry, I was far away.”

  He returned her smile. “I haven’t congratulated you on your marriage. I must admit it was quite a surprise to me when Zek Gray rushed you off to Bathurst and put his ring on your finger. But now that I’ve met you I can understand why he shouldn’t want anyone else snapping you up.”

  He meant it, and Lizzie laughed naturally.

  His smile faded, and a crease joined the others on his brow. “He is not an easy man to understand, Mrs. Gray. And not an easy man, I should think, to hold. That you have done so is rather remarkable.”

  “You mean he is... was rather a rake,” she retorted, and rather shocked herself by her plain-speaking.

  But he shrugged. “Perhaps I do, perhaps I do. He must be in his mid-thirties, and no man reaches that age without some experience behind him, Mrs. Gray. You can’t hold that against a man. I remember myself...” But his smile twisted with bitterness. “Never mind that. Don’t want to shock you.”

  She laughed. ‘I’m beginning to think I don’t shock as easily as I once did, Mr Bailey.”

  He reached out as if to pat her hand, changed his mind and fell silent.

  He was thinking of Angelica and Zek. Had they succeeded in putting him off the scent with this marriage? He seemed to imagine Zek had married her for love. It made Lizzie feel dirty, deceiving him in that way, but to tell him the truth would be worse.

  Her eyes searched the crowded room and found Zek. He was drinking again; he had been drinking all evening. She had tried to catch his eye once, but he turned his back on her and began flirting with a girl with red hair. Lizzie gave up. When she noticed him again he was watching her, eyes narrowed across the distance. “See,” he seemed to be saying, “I can have any woman in this room, Lizzie. What do you think of that?” The thought hurt her, but she bore it grimly.

  “Lizzie?”

  She looked up. He was standing by Bailey’s chair, his face pale, his eyes gleaming. Bailey also looked up, his expression hardening at the sight of Zek. Dislike stiffened every line of him, and seeing that, Zek smiled. A mocking, cynical smile that caused Lizzie to draw a sharp breath.

  “Zek,” she said, and stood up, taking his arm firmly in hers.

  “Gray,” Bailey muttered, and looked away.

  Zek moved as if to confront him again, but Lizzie pulled on his arm, drawing him away. He looked down into her face, an eyebrow lifting with amusement.

  “Are you afraid I’ll hit him, Lizzie?” he said conversationally.

  “No. But as he dislikes you I thought it best if you left him alone.”

  His face darkened; she felt the muscles of his arm go hard as iron.

  “I’m sick and tired of him looking through me. If he has something to say to me, why doesn’t he say it?”

  “Zek,” she whispered, as his voice rose. Some people turned to stare. “Zek, please, it doesn’t matter what he thinks.”

  “And what about you, Lizzie? What do you think?”

  The dark eyes were fastened on her face, and she couldn’t hide the dismay and fear and sick knowledge that passed over it. He stood a moment more, gazing into her eyes, and then he had wrenched his arm out of her slackened grip, and was striding towards Angelica. Lizzie watched him break into the circle, watched the woman’s suddenly brilliant smile, the way she leaned against him, touching. Always touching. When she could bear no more, Lizzie turned away. When she steeled herself to look again, some time later, the couple were nowhere to be found.

  For a moment she felt as if she’d suddenly fallen from high above. A sensation of headlong flight, spinning dizziness, and the agony of striking earth. Her head ached, and she fought her pain grimly, telling herself it was no more than she had known all along.

  “Mrs. Gray?”

  Kind blue eyes. A plump, dark haired woman. They had been introduced before. Edna Tucker? Yes, that was it. She had apologized for not calling on Lizzie, only her youngest child had been very ill.

  Lizzie managed to summon up a smile.

  Mrs. Tucker said gently, “It’s rather stuffy in here. Are you feeling the heat, my dear? Perhaps you’d like some fresh air.”

  “Yes, thank you. Perhaps I shall go outside.”

  The windows into the garden were open, and Lizzie and Edna Tucker walked out into the cool foliage. Crickets sang, and moths hovered about the lanterns. Edna was chatting about the summer harvest, and how lucky they had been with the rain coming just when it should, and how lucky they were that it had come at all.

  “I’ve known it to be so dry the ground cracks and scorches, and even our river dries up.”

  “How terrible,” Lizzie whispered, her brown eyes huge.

  The other woman smiled, taking Lizzie’s arm in hers as they strolled.

  “You mustn’t mind Angelica,” she said at last. “She must have every man in love with her! It’s her way.”

  So Edna Tucker had seen what happened. Lizzie supposed everyone else in the room had seen it also. More gossip, more pain.

  “I shouldn’t think it would be too difficult,” she said. “With Angelica’s looks.”

  Edna looked at her a moment. “Forgive me, Mrs. Gray, but... looks are not so important. It’s what’s inside that counts.”

  Lizzie glanced up at her, and saw suddenly that her face had gone rigid, and she was dragging Lizzie’s arm, trying to pull her away.

  “My dear, I think you’d better go back.”

  Lizzie, startled, naturally turned to see what had frightened Edna so, because Mrs. Tucker did look frightened. So she turned, brown eyes huge, and her body went to ice. Or so it seemed at the moment. Because there, hardly even attempting to hide themselves behind the branches of a peppercorn tree, were Angelica and Zek.

  They were embracing, so tightly they might have been one, and Zek was kissing her savagely. Somehow Lizzie found herself turned to the house, staring at the lighted windows of the rooms. Edna had her arm about her shoulders and was holding the shivering girl against her. “Never mind, never mind,” she was murmuring, leading her gently back the way they had come. Lizzie heard Angelica’s laughter behind them, smothered abruptly by Zek’s mouth.

  It was as if something inside her r
eally did break then, because she began to retch, and Edna held her head while she was violently ill in one of Angelica’s untidy flower borders.

  The other woman was extremely kind, Lizzie thought afterwards, to someone she hardly knew. She led Lizzie into a small, empty parlor, and sat her down, bringing her some brandy to warm her, and put some color back into her stark cheeks. Gradually Lizzie stopped shivering and shaking, and even managed a smile.

  “That’s better,” Edna said, patting her hand. “And never mind, my dear. It never lasts, you know. Angelica can never stay with one man for more than a month. I know that, Mrs. Gray, because even my poor dear husband was not immune.”

  Lizzie’s brown eyes shone with compassion. “I’m so sorry!”

  But Edna Tucker smiled. “It didn’t last. He saw her for what she was, I hope, and she grew bored. We pretend it never happened, which is why we feel we must come when she invites us. To pretend.”

  Lizzie sighed. “But it’s different with Zek,” she whispered. “She wants him, she always has. All of them want him. And he loves her. That’s the awful part. He loves her, and if she hadn’t been married already I wouldn’t be here now.”

  Edna shook her head, blue eyes helpless in her compassion. Lizzie, seeing how upset the other woman was, dried her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “I’m all right now. Really! I’ll just rest here for a moment. It was just the... the shock of seeing something I already knew confirmed.”

  “Are you quite sure, Mrs. Gray?”

  “Yes. And thank you so much.”

  But Edna just smiled, and closed the door softly after her.

  Lizzie sat staring at it, feeling ill and weak and shaky. Zek and Angelica. Well, she had feared it... known it, in a way. Zek loved her, and if Lizzie loved Zek she must let him go without making things worse. The fact that Angelica was selfish and wicked mustn’t make any difference. It was Zek she must think of. Zek, whom she loved.

  But that only started the tears again, and she sighed, drying her cheeks. She took another sip of the brandy, and took another deep breath. Perhaps, as Edna said, it wouldn’t last. Although it had lasted this long. Was she allowed no hope to cling to? No promises, no matter how false they were?

  After a moment she stood up, patting her clothes into place and smoothing her hair in the mirror over the fireplace. She was about to return to the others when the door opened and Zek looked in. He saw her, and frowning, came striding towards her, his hands outstretched.

  “Edna Tucker said you were feeling unwell. Lizzie?”

  She backed away from him, knowing it was too soon and she couldn’t face him naturally after what she had just seen. He saw something of the misery and anger on her face and stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Lizzie?”

  But he knew. She watched the color stain his brown cheeks.

  “You saw us, didn’t you? Angelica laughed and said that you had, but I... it’s not what you think, Lizzie-mine.” But his voice had a grim desperation to it, as though he were fighting a lost battle.

  “Zek, please–”

  “You know what she’s like, Lizzie. It meant nothing. I did it because you seemed to expect me to, and I...”

  “I really don’t care,” she whispered. This, she decided, was the best way to handle it. Make him think it didn’t matter to her, that there was no need to explain. Only don’t let him lie, and go on lying.

  He laughed shakily. “No, I don’t suppose you do. I’d forgotten that. But you’ve never pretended to love me, have you, wife-of-mine?”

  “Zek...”

  “Well, it’s hardly surprising, is it? It was a marriage of convenience for both of us, wasn’t it? Nothing like your sister’s blissful union, hmm?”

  His savage sarcasm rocked her. She felt so dizzy suddenly she clung to the mantelpiece.

  “Angelica seems to love me, Lizzie. In her way, she’s been true to me. It can’t be much of a life for her, tied to a living-dead man, can it? And she’s so beautiful, as you said yourself.”

  The room was tilting, as if she were drunk, only this time she wasn’t. She felt the nausea clutching at her stomach, and tried to hold it back. Perspiration began to show on her face, making it shine. If only he would go away, she could be ill in peace.

  “Don’t do this to me, Zek,” she whispered, but he didn’t hear.

  “Like an angel herself, eh, Lizzie? She rides like the wind, too, which isn’t something you’re terribly good at, is it? And she doesn’t mind showing a man what she thinks of him, one way and another... Lizzie?”

  But Lizzie had leaned her forehead against the marble of the fireplace, biting her lip. Her sickness could no longer be hidden or denied. Zek was holding her, though she hardly knew it now, even when he kissed her brow, rocking her against him as if he alone could cure her.

  “Take me home,” she breathed, and had fainted away even before he had swung her up into his strong arms.

  She recalled, vaguely, being lifted into her seat, and the jolt of the journey home. The lights dazzled her when they arrived there, and faces hovered, like ghosts. Someone undressed her and put her into bed, bathing her face and soothing her, while she was ill in a convenient basin. She was ill again later on, but after that felt much better. Only so weak and wretched.

  Morning found her feeling rather better, and she rose carefully, and threw open the shutters, breathing the cool fresh morning air. The world was waking, the sky was blue, and she smiled until she remembered Angelica. Her smile gave way to sadness, and she dressed slowly, determined to tell Zek finally that she understood, that he needn’t feel guilty. That, as he loved Angelica so much it was making him into a different man, Lizzie would make no demur at their resumed affair.

  But when she came into the dining-room and he looked up, so surprised to see her, all such unselfish thoughts left her mind. He looked absolutely haggard, his skin had a grayish tint, and by the look of him he hadn’t slept all night. If that was what love did to one, Lizzie thought shakily, it seemed hardly worth falling into.

  “Lizzie!” He started up, finding his voice at last.

  She sat down with the faintest of smiles, and glanced over the breakfast trays.

  “Good morning.”

  A jab of hunger set her busying herself with her plate. She was absolutely ravenous!

  “But... are you all right?” Zek whispered, though more moderately.

  “Well I think so,” and she forced another smile, as hunger gnawed at her stomach.

  His black eyes mocked her sudden greed. They ate in silence, though she did most of the eating. Zek sat and watched her, a smile playing about his mouth, his face creased in thought. She wondered if she should mention Angelica now, but they seemed so companionable it seemed a pity to spoil the mood. She would tell him later... tonight. Yes, tonight was soon enough.

  Mary too seemed surprised to see her up, but pleased when Lizzie smiled at her worried clucking.

  “I think it must have been something I ate at Mrs. Bailey’s which disagreed,” she told the girl.

  “But you were quite feverish, ma’am!” Mary said reprovingly. “Mr. Gray remarked on it particularly. Didn’t you, sir?”

  Zek rose abruptly, startling them into looking at him. “Yes,” he said quietly. He paused by her chair. “Take special care today, Lizzie. I don’t want my wife falling ill, whatever you may think of my morals.”

  Did he not? Wouldn’t that solve all their problems? Her meal tasted suddenly of sawdust, and she pushed her plate aside.

  “He was very worried, ma’am,” Mary murmured beside her. “I never seen Mr. Gray that worried before in all my time here. He must love you very much.”

  Guilt, Lizzie thought. Guilt had made him distraught, when he believed his scene with Angelica had caused her sudden illness. Now she was better again he could go back to that cat with a clear conscience.

  But it was not so. Lizzie was ill again almost immediately, and lay on her bed, certain nothing could ever mak
e her feel any worse. The room was stuffy and hot, despite the open shutters, and in the afternoon she made the effort to get up and make her way slowly out into the garden. But the exertion proved too much and she fainted. After that, Zek insisted she remain in her bed, and when he caught her trying to get up he was so furious and white-faced she was too afraid to do anything other than obey him.

  “I’m taking you into Bathurst to see a doctor, my girl,” he told her, “and let’s hear no more of it.”

  She was feeling so wretched she didn’t argue, which was itself an oddity, but lay listless, watching him pace the room.

  “We’ll see what he says,” he was saying, more to himself than her. “I’m not a pauper, Lizzie, and I...”

  But whatever it was he had been about to say was interrupted. Mary came in, murmuring that Edna Tucker was here with her husband to visit.

  Zek nodded, and went out. A few minutes later Edna appeared in the doorway, blue eyes worried.

  “Lizzie... Mrs. Gray! I’m so sorry to see you still in bed.”

  Lizzie smiled wryly. “So am I.”

  Edna came and sat by her, chatting gently about her children. After a time they fell silent, and Lizzie, watching the other woman, knew she was gathering courage to speak of last night.

  “Lizzie... I’m sure you’re quite wrong when you say your husband and Angelica are . . . well. I’ve seen how worried he is about you, and—”

  “He seems worried, yes,” Lizzie murmured. “And I’m sorry for that, because Zek has enough on his mind without me being such a fool.”

  Edna patted her hand gently.

  They stayed for dinner, and Lizzie was sorry she could not join them. But Zek expressly forbade it. However, she was feeling so well some hours later that she decided to dress and make an appearance. I’ll surprise them all, she thought, smiling as she smoothed her hair. And with those people there, Zek can’t abuse me too much, can he?