by Karen Joyce
“I have made no such promise. Why are you saying this? Did someone say something to you? Who was it? Who has been spreading such fallacies about me?”
“Our families have made an arrangement. You have been promised to Madeline.”
When she had learnt of their engagement she had believed it had been Lincoln’s desire but now she understood that they had done it without his knowledge. She had let herself come to terms with losing the love that was meant for her, for she had made peace with the path her life had taken and the loneliness that would meet her at its end; but now she saw that this love from her youth had come back to her; and it was more real and more beautiful than anything she had ever dreamed. If only she could tell him how much she wanted to take this love he offered to her. To make him understand that whatever feeling there was within his heart for her, it could never match what lay within her own for him, that she loved him too. As these thoughts raced through her mind, she saw now the realisation as it dawned upon him and he was reeling.
“This cannot be,” he said, more to himself than to her, but as he looked back he understood now what he had been too afraid to admit to himself. Like a pawn in a game of chess they had been playing him. Asking him to find her a suitable match, knowing that the ruse would bring them closer together; but to make this agreement behind his back without his knowledge, nor his consent.
“It will never happen. I have no feeling for her. It is you I love. Fin, please, you must believe me.”
“But your family? Your poor cousin?”
“It is not our place to sacrifice our happiness for theirs and even if I tried I could never give them what they want, because there is nothing that could keep me away from you. Run away with me, Fin.”
“Our families will never allow it and you would be ruined. I can’t ask you to give up everything that you’ve worked so hard for.”
“What do I care for them? Don’t you understand? I would give up everything, because without you, it means nothing. Without you in my life, I am nothing.”
“I understand Lincoln. More than you know. Life has been an endless shore with nothing but the tongue of darkness washing over me with its pain, and now, here you are. I never allowed myself to believe that love would find its way to me. How my heart has ached for you and for the healing of your words, but I’m afraid.”
“You are not alone anymore, Fin. As long as I live and breathe within this world, you will never know fear again. I will spend the rest of my life repaying you for the debt of your love.”
“My love is not a debt, but a gift I give you willingly without any expectation of reward. It no more belongs to me than it does to you, because no other can claim their right to it.”
“Then as God is my witness, I claim it here now,” he cried out loud to the skies above. “Your love is filled with the mercy of heaven’s tears and I would willingly drown to feel it rain just once upon my heart.” He held her then and it was as painful as all the lonely days that had led him there. When he finally released her they stood there looking into each other’s eyes.
“When?” she asked, no longer knowing or feeling anything but him.
“I will come for you in two days hence, at first light and meet you by the river.” As they returned to the ballroom, she turned back to him and something told him to remember her in that moment. To hold that image of her fast within his mind. To never forget how she looked standing there on the eve of their new life together.
XV
All through the night the rain had been relentless and as Lincoln rose from his bed where he had tossed and turned, not able to find a moment’s peace, playing over and over within his mind that moment waiting before him; anxious and impatient for it to arrive so it may begin, he looked a sight; dishevelled as he was, still dressed in his suit from the night before. There not being enough time between the preparations that were to be made upon his return to his London home and the packing and loading of his luggage onto his carriage for his elopement with Lady Delphinia in one day’s time. Every moment since he had left her side rested on six precious words: Two days hence, at first light. And it wouldn’t just be the dawning of a new day, it would be the harbinger of their new beginning and the moment where their love for one another would be lifted out of the darkness into the light for all to see. He had decided upon a short journey to the Lake District where they would spend their days of discovery. Then he would take her to his Manor at Gravesend where they would begin their lives together. Their matrimonial union would be a small, intimate affair, with only themselves and a priest to officiate their vows, but the occasion of their coming together as man and wife would in itself be enchanting. Everything else to come after would have to wait until then. The finer details of their future. Their family’s judgements and objections; which would no longer be able to harm them once they were bound together in the unbreakable chains of wedlock. Nothing could cast a shadow over his elated heart. Not even the rainy London weather that often echoed the depression of days gone by. For when he looked out of his window he saw the romantic and nurturing dance of nature in the heavy grey clouds that were streaked in shades of white and grey like his dear grandmother’s hair had been when it fell over her face whenever she leant down to kiss him upon his cheek in his infancy. Her eyes glistening in the droplets of dew as they caught the first rays of morning’s light and the calming of her gentle breath rustling through the trees. He felt his whole life captured in that outside world where the melody of morning played a symphony of celebration in their honour. Lincoln saw now the leafy sprouting of trees, the lamp posts that dotted the avenue and the terraced London homes were all beginning to emerge from the night. Washing and dressing in a dark black frock coat with straight trousers, a short waistcoat and a shirt with a high stiff collar, Lincoln safely tucked away his bill fold within the inside of his frock pocket and hurried down the stairs to the foyer to tie up some loose ends in Gravesend. As he reached for his top hat upon the stand he heard knocking upon the front door.
“Who could that be at this hour?” he wondered, opening the door.
“Lincoln,” said the small, frightened voice of the woman standing upon his stoop. “Please forgive me for calling at this hour. I couldn’t find Delphinia anywhere and I didn’t know where else to turn.” Lady Madeline was standing before him, the narrow shoulders upon her small frame huddled over. Her hands wringing a handkerchief, as she dabbed at the tears that freely fell from the corners of her eyes. What could this mean? Had she discovered his plans to elope with Lady Delphinia? Had she come to plead with him to change his mind? Whatever the cause, he was not looking forward to revealing his affections for Lady Delphinia, with this deceitful woman who had attempted to snare him in her trap.
“Please, Lady Madeline, come in,” said Lincoln, as he forced himself to place his hand comfortingly upon the small of her back and lead her inside. As he moved to close the door, he saw Eldon waiting for him in his carriage and held up a hand to signal that there would be a slight delay.
“Come into the parlour and take a seat.” Lady Madeline obeyed. Lincoln poured her a drink of sherry to calm her nerves where she took a great mouthful.
“Early this morning, I overheard my mother speaking with a man in the foyer of our London home. I soon recognised the voice as belonging to our family physician, Dr Livingstone. Believing he had been called for in the night, I inquired as to the cause of his visit. If only to allay my concerns.” She paused then and reached for her glass to finish the contents before continuing on with her story. “As I neared the steps, their voices became clearer and that is when I heard the most terrible news. Even now I cannot believe what I have heard. I ran to Delphinia’s room but there was no sign of her. It’s not unusual for her to take a stroll before the day has barely broken, but though I waited some time, she did not return and I was beside myself. I needed to get as far from there as possible, so I took the carriage. I didn’t even know where I was going until I found myself near your apa
rtment and then I thought of you.”
“Lady Madeline, you must tell me what news you have heard that has distressed you so,” he asked, as he sat by her on the lounge. She kept her head down and took a deep breath before lifting her eyes to him.
“My father…he was…murdered!” she whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth as if she had failed to keep the words from falling from her lips. Hearing these words again, Lady Madeline broke into fresh tears and fell into Lincoln’s arms. They sat there for a long time, neither of them speaking a word.
“The Duke…it cannot be. There must be some mistake,” he said, as he stood up and paced the room deep in thought. “How could this have happened? Who is responsible for this offence?”
My father, he wasn’t perfect. It’s true he was set in his ways, but deep down…deep down he was a good man. My father, my poor, dear father lies in his grave while his murderer walks free,” she rambled, her words becoming more and more incoherent. “Lincoln, what if he means to return? I am too frightened to think of it.”
“Lady Madeline, let me take you home,” he said, as he helped her to stand. “You’ve received a terrible shock. Let me take you home.” She was in no condition to argue and held onto him as he led her into to his carriage.
“Eldon, take us to the Montague’s London address.” Upon their arrival, Lincoln assisted Lady Madeline to the door where they were greeted by Duchess Montague.
“Madeline, Lincoln, what is the meaning of this?” she asked, as she hurried to Lady Madeline’s side; who she saw was visibly shaken.
“Duchess Montague, Lady Madeline called upon my home early this morning after learning of the nature of your husband’s death.”
“I see,” she said, her tone falling heavily upon her daughter.
“Understandably, she is suffering from shock and should be taken to her room at once to lie down and rest.”
“Yes, of course,” she agreed, as she called to her maidservant.
“Take Madeline to her room.”
“Of course, Madam.”
“Under the circumstances, Lincoln we would appreciate your discretion in this affair. I’m sure you are aware how people tend to gossip and I am anxious at how this news would be received should it be known.”
“Please forgive me, Duchess Montague, but is it possible that there has been some error?”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she responded. “Doctor Livingstone was adamant that the coroner’s findings were conclusive in this regard.”
“Very well then, you have my word and please accept my condolences.”
As Lincoln descended the final steps of their front porch and stood at his carriage, he looked out across the avenue and down the bank of the River Thames.
“Sir, shall I take you to Gravesend?” asked Eldon, concerned with the change that had come over him.
“No Eldon, there has been a change of plans. Please take me to the Tower of London.” As they arrived, Lincoln departed the carriage and entered St John’s Chapel. The priest, Father Francis was standing before the altar in the nave of the Cathedral finishing the third fixed hour of prayer: the 23rd Psalm.
“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Lincoln was careful not to disturb the delicate equilibrium that penetrated throughout the interior of the Chapel walls, as he passed the empty rows of pews. Finally, he extended a gesture of reverence, crossing himself with the motion of his hand, “In the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost, Amen,” he whispered before entering the third pew from the front and kneeling down to pray. He often came here during the day when he knew he would be free from the solicitations of society. Free from their so-called good graces. How he had come to hate people, and yet, how he loved humanity and since discovering the true nature of Duke Montague’s death he had come here to find some peace, for it had left him shaken to be so close to such treachery and whomever was responsible may still be walking within its walls. After whispering a silent prayer of gratitude and repenting for his sins of all the fails of himself and the world he rose and leaned back onto the bench, remembering Madame Esmerelda’s warning, Stay away from there…Evil lurks within… Watching the priest, Lincoln couldn’t help notice how the vicar’s meat was squashed into his skin like the ground intestines of a sausage tightly compressed into a synthetic casing. It were as if his insides were revolting against himself and he wondered if his skin was struggling to contain the perversion of his soul.
“Amen…” The word had been spoken, but its sound was different to how he had ever heard it before. As though he had heard it with his heart, or even felt it. Lincoln turned and saw a small figure disappear into the final row of pews. Her head bowed wearing a small black bonnet. Black lace was peering out from beneath the large brim covering her face and her dainty, laced hands were united in prayer. Soft conversation distracted him from his furtive glance of the lady in the pew. He recognised the animated dramatics of Duchess Montague’s imposing gesticulations as the priest listened attentively with borrowed patience from the Lord. Of course, with the agreement that had been made between his family and theirs for his engagement to Lady Madeline she had come to make the necessary preparations for her son’s union with his cousin, Felicity. Quietly, he exited the pew on the far side of the nave and slipped into the confessional. He hadn’t the stomach for any superficialities today. Leaning back he felt the enclosing confinement of the small wooden box and wondered if this is what it felt like to be buried alive. All the rapture and wonder of life reduced into the small darkness of this black shell. He was so carried away with his thoughts that he didn’t hear as someone slipped into the small compartment on the other side of the confessional and closed the door.
“Bless me father for I have sinned,” said a women’s voice. Lincoln was startled by the sudden intrusion into his innermost thoughts, but before revealing his true identity something within him caused him to hesitate. It was a voice that was familiar to him. He recognised it from before or, rather, it stirred something within him. It was her voice. The voice of Lady Delphinia. He knew it wasn’t right but something else had taken hold of him and the disguised words came out of his mouth before he even realised it was happening. Before he had a chance to stop them.
“How long has it been since your last confession?”
“It’s been more than fifteen years since my last confession. I wished to come sooner, but, I…I…,”
“Don’t be afraid. God is listening.”
“I wanted to come. If only you knew how I wished I could, for this burden has been too great for me to carry alone,” she began, as Lincoln held his breath not knowing what to say next, but she took comfort in the silence and continued.
“To many he was a fine man in all respects and they would never have spoken a word against his character, against him. Only…”
“Only…” Lincoln echoed her word. Somehow the way he’d repeated it, she felt as though he knew what was left unspoken within it and was sharing the weight of it with her. It gave her the strength to go on.
“Only…I knew the man that my uncle was, because, Father…”
“Go on child, unburden your soul. It’s the only way God can give you his forgiveness.”
“We shared an unholy bond. For years before his death, he lay with me and though it is sinful of me now to say it, I wanted him to die and I’m glad now that time has come to pass, for now I have a chance at the life I have always dreamed I could have one day…I’m sorry, Father. I’ve already said too much. Please forgive me,” she whispered, suddenly rushing from the confessional. Lincoln wanted to go after her, to confront her, but he still hadn’t come to terms with what he had heard. After waiting a few minutes for the Chapel to quieten, he slipped out of the booth and hurried out of the building and that’s when it dawned upon him. He understood now the true weight of her confession and the forgiveness she had been asking for. Forgiveness for what she had do
ne.
XVI
The day had arrived sooner than he had been prepared for it to come and as he made haste to hurry down the bank of the River Thames, he sighted the dark, lonely figure standing by the river holding a small, black leather suitcase in one hand, hidden beneath an open black umbrella; the story of her soul bared in the harrowing image waiting for him to arrive.
“Lincoln, could this be real or is this but a dream?” she asked, placing her suitcase upon the ground and reaching out to take his hand.
“I wish it were but a dream,” he said, as he pulled his hand from hers.
“Lincoln, there is nothing to fear. I snuck out under the cover of darkness unseen, and whatever has kept you, you must not be concerned for I would give all my days for one moment with you.”
“And Adam was not the one who was deceived; it was the woman who was deceived and became a sinner.”
“Lincoln, what are the meaning of your words? Why do you pull away from me?”
“Fin, I am a forgiving man, but I am only human,” he said, as he looked upon the face that haunted his dreams, the tiny feet that danced upon his heart and the delicate hands that sheltered him with the promise of what they had held.
“Please, Lincoln,” she pleaded, the tears forming in the corners of her eyes, “I do not understand what is happening.”
“Lady Madeline came to see me yesterday and she told me of some disheartening news.”
“Please, prey thee, Lincoln, what could Madeline have possibly said to have caused this stranger to stand before me?”
“I know Fin. I know about the Duke of Montague,” he said, as he stood like a statue guarding the entrance to their future, a future that was now crumbling before their very eyes.
“Lincoln, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
“Then you don’t deny it?”
“Lincoln, the other night at the ball, I tried to warn you, to tell you…”