by J. L. Jarvis
He spoke softly. “Come back to me, Emma.”
His words upset her even more than he had feared, for a deep sob made her body shudder. He lifted his face to hers. The hopeless expression was gone. Anguish brought tears to her eyes and a vein to her translucent brow. He dropped his head to her knee and hid silent tears.
Fletcher arose and, with a shuffling of dead leaves, walked away.
The soft touch of her hand on his head was too much. In one sweeping motion, he was on the bench beside her and holding her head to his cheek, and then pulling her mouth to meet his. Oh, the kiss. It could not last forever, but the memory would. Sweet and soft, her touch was flint to his passion. He pulled away, ending the kiss. His fingers covered her lips, but the moist parting flesh made him want her all the more, and he kissed her again. His mouth was on hers, and his fingers slid down from her lips to her neck. Her pulse met his. Under coarse cotton broadcloth, her chest pressed against him.
His lips brushed against hers as he whispered, “I was afraid I’d lost you. I didn’t know where you were.”
“How did you find me?”
“We can talk about it all later.” Benjamin cast a caustic look toward Fletcher, but he was gone. “Right now, I’m taking you home.”
She arose with a sound that was more sob than gasp, and put distance between them. Her eyes brimmed with sorrow.
“I can’t,” she said softly.
He was too stunned to move, sure he had heard something different. He went to her, laid his hands on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes as though his powerful will would change the answer, but she looked away.
Muscles tensed as he forced quiet into his voice. “Emma.”
He leaned forward, nearly touching her cheek, but changed his mind. He shut his eyes for a moment to regain control, but his gaze was even more fervent.
“I will not leave you here.” He could hear the anger in his voice, but was unable to keep it in check. “I won’t ask you to love me.” But he wanted to demand it. He could see the love in her eyes, but he saw also an unapproachable heart. It was torment. He turned away, hiding his rage as he stood and gripped a low tree branch. He flashed angry glances at the ominous building. It oppressed him, and made him fear for her. “You don’t belong here.”
“I don’t know where I belong.”
“Where you belong is with me. How could you doubt it?”
Emma’s denial broke his heart. Her bright eyes, full of tears, told of love and anguish.
“I hurt you. I struck you. I might have killed you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I thought that I had.”
“But I know that you didn’t. You couldn’t.”
“Then tell me what happened.”
He looked away and exhaled. “I don’t remember.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Emma, look at me. I know you. You could not hurt me or anyone else—except yourself, which you’re doing right now.” He held her hands and looked into her eyes. Only she could melt anger.
“Benjamin, why have you come? Why now?”
“A letter came today—from here, handwritten, unsigned. It said you were here, and it gave the name Emily Stone.”
The news disturbed Emma, but she was silent.
He said, “I wish I could thank whoever it was. That note brought me to you.”
Emma looked down, frowning. She had an idea who sent it. She said, “It would have been better for you to forget me.”
“That’s absurd,” he snapped at her.
Emma watched with a helpless sorrow.
His jaw tightened as his eyes grew moist and red. His quiet words were desperate with passion. “You are the only thing true in my life, and I’m losing you.”
“It’s for the best.” She reached for his hand, but he turned from her and pounded his fist on the tree trunk.
She was nearly undone. “I don’t know how else to spare you.”
“Spare me?” he nearly laughed, before turning to face her.
Fletcher said his name gently, but he seemed not to hear.
His expression would have frightened anyone but Emma. She stepped closer and lifted her face up to his. Her soft eyes swept over his hair and his face. “I loved you,” she said, as she put the palm of her hand on his heart. “Please try not to remember me with anger.” She held his gaze as long as she dared before turning to leave. “Goodbye.”
His hand clamped around hers. “No.” He crushed her into his arms. “I won’t leave you.”
She hid her face in his chest, until she had the courage to say, “But I’m leaving you.”
Emma tore away and ran to the massive stone building to leave him forever. On her lips were the things that she wished she could have said, words of love, and the promise to be his forever. It was now time to tuck those away. When the sorrow was more sweet than bitter, she might dare to look back.
Benjamin ran after her, but some orderlies saw him and stopped him before he could follow her into the building. He stared at the empty doorway and gave up the struggle. What use was it now? She was gone. She was worse for having seen him. She was worse for having known him at all. All his love for her was useless. He could have fought off the orderlies, but he could not fight his way back into her heart. The orderlies were escorting him to the exit when Emma’s doctor saw and intervened. He brought Benjamin to his office.
In the doctor’s office, Benjamin sat beside Fletcher like an errant schoolboy, too wounded by Emma’s rejection to care about threats from the doctor. So let them arrest him. Perhaps they would find him insane and put him in here with her. At least he would be close to the woman he loved. He would not leave her here alone. He could not.
Suddenly Benjamin leaned over the desk, and the doctor flinched, visibly shaken. He had no idea how strongly his passion played out on his face and his posture. The doctor did, though. Benjamin’s voice boomed far out into the hallway. While gripping the sides of the desk, he leaned over the desk. The doctor leaned back in his chair.
Benjamin shouted, “I will assume the risk and responsibility for her. I will sign anything. Just let me take her back home.”
“I cannot release her to you when you have no authority over her. You did not admit her. You’re not her relative or husband. And the home you would take her to isn’t her home.”
“I’d be her husband in a heartbeat, and my home is more hers than this haunted castle.”
The doctor looked straight at Benjamin, “Mr. Stark, listen—”
“No, you listen. I’m taking Emma home now.”
He doctor glanced at Fletcher, and then back at Benjamin. “I wish I could let you. I’m sorry, but it’s simply not possible.”
“Dr. Whitfield, you are the gatekeeper. You can make it possible.”
Dr. Whitfield leaned back and looked truly regretful. “It is not in my power.”
Benjamin brightened, while Fletcher exchanged pitying looks with the doctor. “Let me marry her—here, if we have to. I’ll get a minister. We can have the service here, then it would be legal, and I could check her out by the rules.”
“Mr. Stark, really. That’s just—”
“Possible.”
“No.”
“The very fact of her presence here deems her incapable of entering into a marriage.”
“Doctor, please. I’ll bring her back for appointments. If she doesn’t improve—” Benjamin stopped. He could not finish the thought. He looked up at the tall window encased in thick slabs of stone. “Living here would make even a sane person crazy—maybe working here, too.”
The doctor ignored Benjamin’s remark as he stood and emerged from behind his desk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. There’s nothing more I can do.” He walked to the door and opened it.
“No. I can’t do it. I can’t just walk away and leave her in here!”
“I know what you must be feeling.”
Benjamin glared. “You couldn’t possibly know what I feel—let alone
understand it.”
Benjamin stormed out.
Fletcher stayed behind for a word with the doctor. He closed the door, a grave look on his face. “You know that she can’t stay here much longer.”
Dr. Whitfield nodded. His icy perfection was suddenly twisted by a haunted expression.
“I can’t stay here, either,” said the doctor. “I can’t do this anymore—to her or to him.”
Fletcher shook his head. “I thought she’d be here for a couple of months, and then she’d go home and our lives would go on as if nothing had happened.”
Dr. Whitfield was shaken. “I’ve watched her and tried to protect her, but it’s gone on too long. I’m watching that exquisite young woman unravel.”
Fletcher said, “I found Benjamin with a gun in his hand. He’s a powerful man, but he’s broken.”
They looked at one another and seemed to agree without speaking. Fletcher walked to the window and stared outside. “It’s not just about us, Paul—not that it ever was.”
Dr. Whitfield said, “I’ve spent my life preparing to have this career.”
“Are you happy?”
“Miserable.”
Fletcher nodded. None of his usual ease showed in his face. He sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Through his tears, he said, “I love her, and I’ve—known Ben all my life.”
Dr. Whitfield squeezed Fletcher’s shoulder and sat on the edge of the desk beside him. Fletcher grasped Dr. Whitfield’s comforting hand. “So for Gwendolyn’s greed and ambition, our four lives are being destroyed.”
“What are we even protecting anymore? Sure, our careers are intact. Our secret is hidden. But our lives have been damaged just the same.” Fletcher lifted helpless eyes to Paul Whitfield.
Dr. Whitfield said, “If only we could run away from it all—”
“But we can’t,” said Fletcher. “She’ll expose us. Our careers will be over. Our lives will be ruined.”
Dr. Whitfield shook his head. “Four lives torn apart for one woman. And there’s nothing we can do about it.” He turned his head, with a faraway look in his eyes.
Fletcher leaned his head back and shut his eyes with a weary sigh.
Dr. Whitfield stared out the window. “Unless...” He looked back at Fletcher with new light in his eyes.
“Unless what?” Fletcher looked at Dr. Whitfield as though he were the one who was crazy.
A hint of a grin bloomed on Dr. Whitfield’s face. “Unless one life was destroyed to save four.”
Fletcher eyed Dr. Whitfield.
“Don’t you see? What if we ruined her life first?”
Fletcher met his gaze and his eyes narrowed intensely. “That’s a lovely dream, and I’ve had it myself. But she’s got the photos of us together, so she’s got all the power. And you know she will use it. I have complete confidence that she would carry out her threats to destroy us. Do you think you’d keep your job here? And how would my small town clients feel about having a homosexual lawyer? And it could go beyond that. Think Oscar Wilde. A scandalous trial. Prison.”
“Not if we kept her from talking.”
“Why, Doctor, that sounds nefarious—not a characteristic I’d ascribe to you.”
Paul Whitfield smiled. “You’re thinking on too grand a scale. What I have in mind is much simpler—and less violent.” A sly grin spread to Dr. Whitfield’s eyes.
With a brisk gait, Fletcher joined Benjamin outside.
Benjamin said, “How can I just let her go?”
“What else can you do at the moment—storm the Bastille and steal her away when she wants to stay here?”
“But I can’t leave her, and if she won’t see me, how can I help her?”
“I’ll look after her.”
Jealous anger flared as Benjamin said, “That sounds awfully convenient.”
Fletcher was stunned.
Benjamin scowled. “You’ve looked after her quite well already, haven’t you? Why, just look at this brilliant plan to spare me. Did you help her with that one? How good of you.”
Fletcher’s amazement turned to disgust. “You think that much of our friendship?”
“Yours and Emma’s?” Benjamin nodded accusingly.
Fletcher gripped Benjamin’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “That’s absurd, and you know it!”
Benjamin’s anger cooled. “No, I know you wouldn’t do that. But you’re a man. You’ve got feelings. And she’s...she’s...” He could not form the words. He looked at the ominous towers rising up from the building. He shook his head. “She’s gone.” Benjamin grabbed hold of the fence post and leaned his forehead against it. He was too quiet.
Fletcher waited beside him.
“How did you get in to see her?”
Fletcher looked at him with sorrow, but offered no answer. “I spoke some more with Dr. Whitfield after you left.”
“I’m sure that was helpful.”
“It was, actually. He’s on our side, Ben.”
Benjamin looked doubtful.
“He’s got some ideas, but he’s got to check with some people.”
“That sounds deliberately vague.”
“Trust him.”
Benjamin’s brows drew together with scornful doubt. “Why should I? Why do you?”
“I know him.” Averting his eyes, he added, “Through my charity work with the hospital here.”
Benjamin lifted his head in a half nod as he looked at the asylum façade.
At Fletcher’s urging, Benjamin followed him to the buggy. He let Fletcher drive. As they pulled away and headed down the drive, Benjamin stared blankly at the grounds and said, “How did you know she was here?”
Fletcher’s expression was taut. He was usually quick, but the day’s events had drained him.
Benjamin said, “I forgot. Your charity work.”
Fletcher nodded. It was better than anything he would have come up with.
Benjamin stared at the empty fields passing by, barely seeing. His thoughts were on Emma. How wan and weary she’d looked, and how beautiful. She did not belong there. He did not know how he would do it, but he vowed to himself to get Emma out of that place.
Chapter 21
Mrs. Hall was in the potting shed, making some order out of a mess of tools and pots that had been left for too long. She was putting the clay pots in neat stacks by the wall when Emma arrived in the doorway.
“I know it was you.”
Without looking up from her work, she said, “You were making a mistake.”
“It was mine to make.”
“And perhaps this was mine, but I couldn’t stand by and watch you ruin both your lives.” She glanced up over her glasses.
“But you could watch me go to him knowing that one day I might kill him?”
Mrs. Hall peered curiously into her eyes and said, “You wouldn’t have.”
“How do you know?”
“I know you, and you couldn’t have done it.”
“You barely know me.”
Mrs. Hall looked at her with those eyes that could always see through to the truth. “You couldn’t hurt him.”
“But I already have.”
“You think. You don’t know. You know one person’s story, and she wasn’t even there. It was probably an accident. And besides, for someone in danger from you, Mr. Stark was awfully eager to see you.”
“He’s a wonderful man.”
“Then maybe he nearly deserves you,” said Mrs. Hall, with a smile. “Now tell me, what did he say?”
Emma told her what happened, as well as she could with her feelings so close to the surface. The story came out in pieces, but the end was the same. She could never be with him.
Mrs. Hall spoke to her gently, but refused to agree.
“Emma, without family, the world can be terribly lonely.”
“I know how to be lonely.” The bitter voice sounded strange coming from Emma.
“Listen to me.”
Mrs. Hall was
a gentle woman, but her urgent expression unnerved Emma. “Think, hard, and tell me the truth. Do you love him?”
“You know I do,” she said gravely.
“And he loves you?”
“Yes. And I went to him thinking that it was enough. But I was dreaming—and selfish. And I’ve been lucky. I hurt him once. He survived. I won’t gamble on the next time.”
Emma shuddered as a new thought occurred to her. She spoke in hushed horror. “What if we had children? They wouldn’t be safe from me, either.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And I won’t—not until it’s too late. That’s the problem.”
“You’re convincing yourself of something that may not be true. You’ve already given up.”
“I can’t risk it.”
Mrs. Hall leaned against the counter and shook her head. “Life is full of risks.”
“Well I know what mine are, and I choose to avoid them.”
“Not like this.” Mrs. Hall surrendered a deep sigh. “Emma, maybe you’re right and it couldn’t work out. But isn’t there just a small chance that there’s some way to get through this?”
Emma shook her head skeptically.
“Benjamin wants to talk to you. He’s willing to risk it. Why can’t you just try to trust him?”
“It’s myself I don’t trust.”
“Do you think he’s safe from you here?”
“I suppose.”
“Then why not let him visit you here?”
“Because in his arms I forget. I become selfish and weak.”
“Because you love him?”
“Please stop. It’s no use. The best way I can love him is to do what I’m doing. I know that you’re trying to help, but you can’t.”
Emma walked out of the shed to the darkest shade tree, where she wept her eyes dry.
Benjamin came every day for a week. Every day he asked to see her. Every day she refused. After that, Emma refused to go outside, for fear he would find her, which he would have. This went on for days. When she finally did venture out, it was only because word got to her that Mrs. Hall had been under the weather and their garden was overrun with weeds. For Mrs. Hall’s sake, Emma went out to garden, but she watched and listened for Benjamin. Each passing step of a nurse or a patient made her start.