An Ever Fixéd Mark
Page 20
Ben breathed out slowly. “You asked me if I believe in reincarnation.”
“Are you telling me that Eloise Hutchins was Charlotte Fulton?”
“No,” Ben said quickly, almost angrily.
“Horace Fulton?” Lizzie tried to laugh, but fell short.
“She lived with the Fultons,” Ben looked directly at her.
“Oh,” Lizzie felt her whole body grow cold. She drank her coffee all the way to the bottom of her mug. She was still cold. She rubbed her bare arms and avoided Ben. He got her another cup of coffee. Lizzie decided to maintain the silence and get the milk. She kept quiet as she slowly blended her coffee and drank half of the mug again.
“How do you know these things?”
“There isn’t an easy way to explain it. I honestly don’t know if I can put it into words, Elizabeth.”
“Were you at the Fulton House?” Lizzie asked suddenly, not feeling warmer in any part of her body in spite of the scalding on her tongue from her coffee.
“Briefly,” Ben didn’t blink.
“Why?” Lizzie gasped.
“Because Charlotte Fulton was a vampire. She was the vampire who changed me.”
Lizzie felt suddenly very awake. She realized everything had changed and everything she observed and heard after this was her new reality. She felt it more than the night Ben sat in her dining room and revealed he was a vampire. That was a relief. This revelation didn’t provide any relief or excitement. It made everything slow down and inescapable.
The calm entered her gaze and made her voice very articulate. “Who was Eloise?”
“The Fultons’ house maid,” Ben said slowly.
“What was her name?”
“Lily.”
Lizzie shuddered again, wishing she dressed in more than a tank top. “What does she have to do with Charlotte?”
“Horace Fulton was the primary heir of the Fulton fortune. Charlotte wanted that fortune. So she married him.”
“Did Horace Fulton know she was a vampire?”
“No one knew Charlotte was a vampire. She had a youthful appearance and played the part of innocent very well…” Ben faded. “Horace Fulton was a self-righteous man, who would never be publicly associated with someone who didn’t uphold his virtues. Privately, he had no virtue and had more interest in the young housemaid than the secrets of his wife. ”
Lizzie looked down, trying to remember anything she could about Horace Fulton. There wasn’t a room in the house in which they were required to talk about him. Only… at some point the tour pointed out that Peter Fulton was the only child of John to produce heirs that survived into the twenty-first century. “Horace Fulton didn’t live very long,” Lizzie muttered the only detail that her memory produced.
“No.”
“Did Charlotte have something to do with his death?”
Ben’s eyes searched for something in her question. “She killed him.”
“What happened to Lily?” the name fell out of her mouth heavily.
“Charlotte liked Lily. They were friends.”
“Did she know… did she know what Charlotte was?”
“Lily was one of her sources.”
“Just her source?”
“No,” Ben looked away from her. “They were lovers.”
“Did Charlotte kill Lily?”
“No.”
Lizzie glanced at the article, seeing the names and words blend together on the paper. The year of the wedding stood out suddenly, prompting the memory of the other few details. “Was Oliver around when all this happened?”
“He was still human,” Ben returned his glance to Lizzie’s intent eyes. “He and Lily were childhood friends. He wanted to marry her, but there was some complication with his family. He fought in the war and came back after Lily met Charlotte…” he faded, eyeing her again. “Lily … she and Oliver renewed their affair until Charlotte found out.”
“Then she turned him into a vampire out of spite?”
Ben’s focus drifted to a place other than the kitchen. “Spite.”
“What happened to Lily?” the name still left her lips like a stone.
“Oliver always loved her. That didn’t change when he became a vampire,” Ben looked towards the window over the sink. “He didn’t know his new strength. He didn’t know what he could do to her when he tried to take her blood.”
“He took too much.”
Ben looked away from the window and met her eyes. “Too fast. It wasn’t wickedness. It was… accident. He loved her. He just loved her … too much.”
“So Lily was the reason he became a vampire… and she was the first person he killed,” Lizzie felt her calm start to agitate.
“The guilt never left him. He never forgave Charlotte. But he stayed with her for several years.”
“Where were you? Were you still Charlotte’s lover?”
“I was in Europe for most of that time. I was taking care of Charlotte’s property in France. I was there for Charlotte’s wedding and … when Oliver became a vampire,” he met Lizzie’s eyes again, not trying to shield his shame. “When Oliver… he didn’t have much use for me until he parted ways with Charlotte. After the Civil War he needed financial independence and asked my help to open a mill.”
“Where Eloise Hutchins came to work for him.”
“I never met her,” Ben looked at Lizzie. “I never even saw a photograph of her. I doubt there was ever one taken. She was an orphan and worked in the mill to support the aunt and uncle who took care of her. But you can read that in your papers.”
“Did she have red hair?”
“Yes, Elizabeth,” Ben breathed in slowly. “Yes she did. But that… that isn’t in anything you could have read about her.”
“How do you know it?”
“Because I had to help dispose of the body.”
“Oh my God,” Lizzie felt a sudden swim in her stomach. She stood up immediately and made it to the sink before she vomited. She kept her head over the sink. Ben came behind her and ran the water to splash the back of her neck and clean out the sink. He massaged the back of her skull and slid his hand gently down to her mid back.
“We can stop.”
“No, we can’t,” Lizzie stood herself up and leaned against the counter to stabilize the dizzy feeling behind her forehead. “If you never met Eloise, how do you know she was Lily?”
“Oliver recognized her. I believed him.”
“So Oliver killed her again?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Because he still didn’t know the strength of his own power?”
“Because he can’t control himself when his emotions… he never stopped loving Lily or hating her.”
“Hating?”
“For bringing Charlotte into his life.”
“How do you know saying Eloise was Lily wasn’t some lame excuse for murdering an innocent girl?” Lizzie avoided his eyes.
Ben took hold of her chin and forced her focus back to him. “Because the next time he saw Lily, I did too.”
Lizzie shook her chin out of his grasp and started to walk away from the counter, but her knees wouldn’t support her. Ben was at her side in time to stop her fall. He guided her back to the stool and went back to the sink to get a glass of water.
“You haven’t eaten,” he said as she drank her water.
“Neither have you,” Lizzie saw the burning in his eyes. “You want to, don’t you?”
“Elizabeth…” Ben took the empty glass from her hand and put it aside.
“It’s me, isn’t it?”
“Do you think it’s you?”
Lizzie paused for a second then went into the bedroom. She hastily put on a shirt and some shorts, not even checking to make sure they were the right side out. She grabbed her purse and stopped in front of the mirror. She looked tired and disheveled. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to know more. She didn’t want to know any of it. She couldn’t go home. She couldn’t return to anything she knew before.
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br /> She threw her purse back on the bed. She went to the bar and poured herself a shot of whisky. She swallowed it hastily, breathed in quickly, and then promptly drank another. She turned and saw Ben watching her in the doorway.
“How do you know I’m Lily? Did you ever meet her?”
“Yes, she...”
“Is that why you came to Springs?”
“No, Elizabeth. I told you why I went to high school.”
“Is that why Oliver went? Or did he know where I was?” Lizzie still had the shot glass circled in her fingers.
“We came to Coldbrook because I wanted to move there with Maria. I bought a house that she wanted to live in. I didn’t want to go there alone. I asked Oliver to come with me… because I thought he needed a fresh start.”
“A fresh start? From? Killing more mill workers?”
“He killed Charlotte.”
The shot glass slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor. Lizzie bent to pick it up and sliced her palm on one of the shards. She looked up at Ben and saw him swallow hard. “I’ll pick it up, Lizzie. Go wash your hand.”
Lizzie glared at him and opened up her bloody palm. The whisky made her head spin. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to give him the relief. “If I’m Lily, why didn’t Oliver ever… why did he keep his distance?”
“Because he was determined to improve himself,” Ben looked away from her and her exposed hand.
“But you were there… fawning over my best friend…”
“To protect you,” Ben met her eyes. “I put myself in your class and your company more so I could see if Oliver was ever tempted.”
“But he wasn’t?”
“He was.”
“But I was… I wasn’t as attractive then. My blood wasn’t as attractive,” Lizzie said to herself, more than to Ben.
“I think that stopped him from trying to take your blood, but not from …”
Lizzie reached for a chair and sat before her legs gave way again. “So all those years of self loathing was actually a past life self preservation?” she laughed madly, losing her sense of appropriate conversation. “And Oliver resisted temptation and went off to San Francisco to marry a vampire?”
Ben almost smiled. “He did.”
“What about Melissa Benson?” Lizzie felt her mind clear suddenly. “He did that, didn’t he?”
Ben held her gaze and went to the broken pieces of glass on the floor. He looked at the one with her blood a few minutes longer. He took the pieces out of the room and came back with a wet paper towel and a broom. “You really should wash that hand.”
“Tell me about Melissa.”
“I told you I don’t know.”
“Did you have to dispose of that body, too?”
“No. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know,” he stared at the tiny remnants of glass.
“She looked like me,” Lizzie felt her eyes grow heavy.
“Yes, she did,” Ben swept the small pieces off the floor.
Lizzie touched her palm with the paper towel Ben left on the table. She realized the blood dripped onto her legs and the floor beneath her. She stood up quickly and went into the kitchen to wash it under cold water until the bleeding stopped. She wrapped gauze around it and took an aspirin. She let herself cry, not from the pain but the wish that someone else could have wrapped the gauze for her.
Ben was in the living room, leaning on the window seat, staring at the empty vase beneath the mirror. “I need to go home,” Lizzie had her purse in her hand.
“Elizabeth,” he didn’t turn to look at her.
“I need to think,” she said very calmly.
“Yes.”
“Ben, why are you with me?” she let herself ask it. “Is it revenge against Oliver? Or… is it guilt?”
“Guilt?” he turned to her.
“Because you let those other… girls… die. Are you just with me to make sure it doesn’t happen again?”
Ben quickly embraced her. “I don’t want it to happen again, Elizabeth. It would have been better if I hadn’t…” he breathed in slowly and out again. “If I hadn’t gone to that reunion”
“Why did you?” Lizzie kept her arms at her side, unable to return his embrace.
Ben pulled away and touched her chin. “I wanted to see you. I knew where Oliver was. I found out you were at Mt. Elm. I thought that meant…”
“Meant what?” Lizzie’s head clouded even more.
“I wanted to see you,” he pressed his lips to hers.
Lizzie relaxed into the kiss and then resisted. “I need to go.”
Ben stepped back and let go of her. He released a sigh and nodded his head. Lizzie clutched her purse and walked out the door.
Chapter Nineteen
“What happened?” Nora exclaimed as she and Meg hurried towards Lizzie in the ER waiting room.
“I broke a glass at Ben’s,” Lizzie explained, her energy drained from sitting alone with her thoughts.
“Where was Ben?” Meg frowned.
“He wasn’t home,” Lizzie said the lie she already formed in her mind. She wasn’t going to explain she was afraid to show him the soaking gauze and have him take her to the ER after she ran out of his apartment. “He had an emergency at his office.”
“Oh Lizzie,” Nora hugged her. “Do you want us to bring you back to his place?”
“No, we’re supposed to have dinner, aren’t we?” Lizzie pulled the energy for a smile. “Or were those plans just part of the ruse?”
“Uh uh,” Nora shook her head. “Meg threw the party. Dinner is from me. Besides, you look like you could use a drink.”
“Yeah,” Lizzie tried another smile but lost her enthusiasm. “Thanks for coming to get me, guys.”
“Did you call Ben?” Nora asked. “Does he know what happened?”
“Yeah,” Lizzie nodded.
“He was a big help with the party,” Meg held open the door. “I swear that guy would do anything for you.”
Lizzie swallowed hard and merely nodded as she followed to Nora’s car. She was glad for Meg’s happy spirits and the lack of sleep that made her chatty. Lizzie paid enough attention to offer a few phrases, but found her concentration still trying to clear a path through all the information she received earlier that afternoon. It all seemed to go around in the same cyclone that filled her mind as she waited to see the doctor and got her stitches.
To let the thoughts settle and take shape would be an acceptance of everything that Ben told her. That the Fultons’ maid was a lover of the vampire who made Ben a vampire. That Lily was Oliver’s lover. That Lily was the reason Oliver became vampire. That Lily made Oliver a killer. That she, Elizabeth Watson, was Lily. And Eloise. Was she doomed to have their fate?
Ben said Oliver was determined to improve himself. It seemed believable. Lizzie remembered the article about his environmental research. He didn’t seem like a monster. He evolved, as Ben evolved. Ben said that he couldn’t control his emotions as well… that he was like Meg. Emotionally manic.
Lizzie always knew Meg had the ability to rein herself in. She just didn’t. She relished the immaturity of her extremism, knowing it got her attention and sympathy. Eventually, it was Meg herself who grew weary of the highs and lows and settled into calm… until the next round of polarity and the next obsession with Alec McCaffrey. Ben seemed confident in the fact that Oliver moved on without succumbing to whatever pulled him back to Lily. Except for Melissa Benson.
“Are you okay, Lizzie?” Nora asked as she looked over the menu.
“I’m just tired. And hungry,” Lizzie sighed out.
“Eat up before the wine gets here,” Meg slid the basket of rolls towards Lizzie. “Does your hand hurt?”
“Yeah, kind of,” Lizzie broke a piece of a roll to dip in the olive oil.
“Here,” Nora slid an envelope over to Lizzie. “Maybe this will make you feel better.”
Lizzie tore it open with her good hand and slid out a card. She opened it, al
lowing a folded brochure to fall in front of her water glass. Lizzie picked it off the table and looked at the photos of an historic inn. “It’s from Mark and me, for you and Ben,” Nora smiled. “I knew you had such a good time in Quechee. You love old places. It’s in New Hampshire. I think it was built around the same time as the Fulton House. “
“So you can entertain Ben with your comments about moldings and wallpaper,” Meg laughed.
“Thanks, Nora,” Lizzie managed another false smile. “That’s very thoughtful.”
“I thought you would like it,” Nora said happily as her phone rang. She saw her husband’s name and excused herself from the table.
“You guys have been so generous with this birthday,” Lizzie looked at Meg. “All that work for the party… that’s time you could have spent on … other things. I really, really appreciate it.”
“What other things?” Meg said with honest joy. “Nora’s just over the moon that you’ve got Ben. But I… I felt like I was pretty shitty to you this year. I wanted to do something to show that you really are important to me and I am so glad to have you around. Plus, it was one helluva party.”
“It was,” Lizzie felt a genuine expression of happiness escape her lips.
“34 never gets any credit,” Meg shrugged. “I think it should be a big birthday for everyone. Especially when they’ve had the year you’ve had. Running all those races – a half marathon! Finding your soul mate.”
Lizzie looked towards the lobby where Nora was talking on the phone. “Do you still believe in that… even after Alec?”
“Soul mates?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course. I just try to convince myself that Alec is in no way, shape, or form my soul mate.”
“So… what does that mean?” Lizzie took a sip of water. “That you were with someone in another life?”
“Maybe,” Meg grinned. “Why?”
“But if… well say Alec was your soul mate, wouldn’t you want to go into the next life and not see him again?”
Meg breathed out, letting the sadness reveal itself. “If Alec is… my soul mate, I’d like to think in the next life he could improve himself.”