Time Heals Everything

by Linda Swain

  Dragging his shaking hands through his hair, he stared at the bag of white powder once more. If I had not had any last night . . . oh dear God, if only I hadn’t taken you, you cursed powder, then nothing would have come of it. I would even have been touched by her innocent actions. You . . . YOU made me act like an animal, which I am not, or crossed the lines the likes of which I would never have approached. You calm me . . . but you also change me.

  Ashton paced back and forth, but his eyes were always on the little packets. At last, he paused before them. I cannot change what happened. But I can change what will happen. I took too much last night, that’s all . . . too much! I allowed it to control me. But if I am careful, this powder will protect me . . . protect us . . . from the animal within me. I have to protect us both . . . I have to.

  Licking his finger, he dipped into the white powder, inhaling as sharply as he had ever done.

  * * * *

  Sometime between the hotel and returning to the familiar surroundings of the city Kat called home, she drifted into an uneasy slumber. She hadn’t truly slept the previous night, and she had been deep in thought during her walk along the beach. When she returned from her walk, Ash had arranged for the car to be waiting. She had walked alongside him, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, half listening to the soft murmurs of hotel patrons about what attractive of a couple they made. She had smiled when smiles were required before being whisked into their car, the resort vanishing into the mists of fairytales where it belonged. Kat didn’t realize when she had fallen asleep; she simply woke when she felt the car slowing to an unaccustomed halt on different terrain.

  Blearily, she looked around, combing her fingers through her hair as she shook the slumber from her aching body. “Where …?”

  Ashton looked down at her, smiling faintly. “Welcome home, my sleepyhead. Someone is here to greet you.”

  Someone? Here? Kat tried to sort through her confusion as she looked around. “Who?” she whispered lowly, but Ash simply laughed as he opened her car door. Looking about, Kat felt as if she had left one dream only to enter another. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been to Ashton’s home before; after all, this was where they had exchanged their wedding vows. But now, the manicured lawns, the elegant gardens, the house itself that resembled a chateau, only had her longing for the simpler home that she had once shared with Nick.

  What surprised her even more was the staff that stood at full attention to greet Ashton and his bride. Is this what he meant? Who he meant? She stole a glance upwards towards his face, deciding that she had to be mistaken. The sparkle of barely repressed mischief was still there in his eyes, but the staff, the only people Kat could currently see, was not the cause of his delight. No, he’s got something else in mind, she thought, barely repressing a shudder. I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises.

  As Ash led her from the car, however, her eyes widened as her gaze fell on a familiar face among the unfamiliar group gathered to greet their new mistress. Bolting from Ash’s arms towards the sight of that face, Kat was heedless of the group of strangers that parted before her.

  “Madam Megan!” With a cry, she fell into the older woman’s arms, her familiar voice reminding Kat once again of all that she had once had, and all that she had left behind.

  Dark brown eyes peered past the cosmetics, seeing the pain in Kat’s artfully made-up face before drawing her gaze down over the younger woman’s arms, where dark bruises peeked out from the clothing Kat had so carefully tried to arrange. “Oui . . . and we have much to talk about, yes? But for now, there is someone very anxious to meet his new mother.”

  “Mother?” Kat’s eyes rounded to meet Ash’s, only to see within their depths something that could only be termed as reproach as he stepped to her side.

  “I had wanted Anton to be surprised, but I see that you have already informed him.”

  Kat watched Ashton carefully. He doesn’t seem angry – just deflated as if Madam Megan had ruined a surprise. He has a little boy? From… From where? My own husband is a stranger to me. What else is there about him that I don’t know? “Your son?” she asked softly, turning her huge green eyes up to him.

  “I will explain later,” he whispered in return. “But for now, could you please be patient a little while longer?”

  “Papa, you are finally home! Madam Megan said that you were bringing me home a beautiful mother. I want to see, Papa . . . I want to see her now!”

  A small child, bound in a heavy wheelchair, was carefully brought to the front of the walk, gazing up at Kat with curiosity and apprehension, his eyes the same odd shade as his father’s. Dark hair curled about a waiflike face. “Madam Megan says that I am to speak English to you – Vous ne comprenez pas le français?”

  “Oui,” Kat whispered softly as she leaned over to gently ruffle his hair. “Mais, je ne parle pas trés bien, j’ai peur.”

  A slight giggle escaped from Anton’s pale lips. “Your accent is terrible,” he informed her with the forthrightness that only a child has. At his father’s quelling look, he dipped his head and offered a slight encouragement. “But you are understandable – you speak it very well for an American, so don’t be afraid.” With absent wonder, he reached out to touch Kat’s hair, smiling as a curl wrapped around his finger. “I have never seen anyone with hair this color . . .”

  “And now you will see it every day, since she is now a part of our family,” Ash responded softly, a gentle tone in his voice that touched Kat’s aching heart. “But now,” he continued firmly, “it is time for you to rest. The doctors warned about too much excitement.”

  “But Papa,” Anton protested even as his hand curled in Kat’s, “how am I to know my new mother if . . .”

  “You will have plenty of time, little one,” announced Megan softly as she eased the awkward chair away. “You will rest now while your Papa and . . . Madam settle in, and perhaps after your dinner, you may spend time with them.”

  “After dinner?” There were sparks in Kat’s green eyes that brooked no argument. “If we are a family, then we dine as one. Anton will join his father and me for our meals from now on.”

  Surprised at the firm tone of her voice, Ash nevertheless nodded in agreement. His opalescent eyes flickered to Megan. “You heard my wife. From now on, unless he is ill, our son will be joining us for lunch and dinner.” Playfully he tapped Kat’s nose, stopping the protest he could see building behind her lips. “Breakfast is our time together – after all, if I am to compete with my very handsome son, at least allow me the opportunity to have some time alone with my beautiful wife.”

  Taking the handles of the chair from Megan’s hands, Ash murmured something in smooth French that Kat couldn’t understand. Then, father and son were moving away into the bright interior of the house, the sound of Anton’s childish laughter echoing through the halls. An uncertain smile came to Kat’s lips as she looked around at the group of expectant faces.

  “Hello,” she murmured, and then Megan was there, saving her. “Giles, take Madame’s cases to her room, please. Jeanette will . . .”

  “Have other things to tend to, I’m sure,” Kat interrupted, realizing where Megan’s thoughts were heading. “I’ll follow you, Giles and put my things away myself, thank you.”

  Moments later, Megan was regarding her former student with dark eyes full of worry as she watched Kat carefully place delicate negligees into deep oaken drawers. From down the hall, the sound of Anton’s laughter was punctuated with smatterings of French that moved too quickly for Kat to understand.

  “So,” the older woman finally murmured, “he did not tell you about his son?”

  Pausing in the task that she had insisted on doing herself, Kat tilted her head as she looked at the woman who now remained one of the few connections she had to Nick. “It would seem that there are a lot of thing he hasn’t told me.”

  “Such as?” Taking an elegant gown the color of ripe peaches from Kat’s arms, Megan moved to a heavy armoire before
turning to watch Kat carefully.

  “Such as . . . his son . . . or what part you play in his life, or even how long that you two have known each other. There are so many things that I should have known before we were married.” Leaning against the solid surface of the dresser, she looked at her former teacher with exhausted eyes.

  “And if you had known the truth then, would it have changed anything?” Her eyes were wise on her former pupil’s face. Long ago, when Kat had first come to her for tutelage, they had shared many conversations together both during and after lessons, and Megan had known a great deal of what had occurred between Kat and Nick. “Would Monsieur O’Connor have declared his love for you? Would Ashton love you any less?” Shaking her head, the older woman smiled softly. “Ma chère, the discovery of one another – the things that take place between a man and his wife, the pain, the secrets, the disappointments, that is part of marriage. Just as we all experience the good, so do we know the bad. It is the learning and how we deal with that information that makes a marriage.”

  “Or can ruin it.” Leaning against the door jam, Ash spoke a smattering of his native language in a tone that had Kat cringing. To her surprise, the older woman only laughed, wagging a finger at a man almost double her height, replying in kind, her tone filled with laughter.

  Noticing Kat’s cautious expression, Ash laughed before elaborating. “Morgan was my au pair when I was a child and now cares for Anton. And sometimes,” he laughed again, “she forgets who signs her paycheck.”

  “Bah!” Taking a dignified seat on the edge of what was to be Kat and Ashton’s massive bed, Megan looked at the young woman and smiled. “All men stay as children, some just remember their manners.”

  She spoke rapidly to Ash, her wise gaze lingering on Kat’s face. A few moments later, Ash’s laughter boomed seconds later. Then the smile that had so captivated her during their brief courtship beamed as he pulled Megan carefully to her feet.

  “Come,” he told her, using English for Kat’s benefit, “the days of you tucking me into bed are long past. Now, I have a beautiful wife to share it with me. Now, please go check on Anton. I’m certain that he is tired, and it is long past his bedtime. There will be time for all of us to talk . . . later.”

  Ushering Megan out into the hall, the door closed quietly behind her before Ash turned to Kat. Devouring her with his eye, he wished more than anything that his hands could join in their feasting. However, he could see the questions burning in his wife’s eyes. Questions that he had no choice but to answer. “So,” he murmured quietly, “I see that you have questions, but please bear in mind that most of it, no doubt, revolves around a past which has nothing to do with you . . . or us.”

  Kat shifted uneasily, her fingers plucking at her soft gown. “If I am to be Anton’s mother and truly your wife, don’t you think that I should know something about the man that I’m married to and the son he fathered? I don’t want secrets between us. I want to learn everything there is to know about you. That is what two people in love share.” Her fingers threaded through her curls as she paced the elegant room. “People share things, even things that you don’t think are important. Ash, don’t you think that I should have known about Anton? About his mother? You had an entire life before me and surely had . . .”

  “Anton’s mother is not important,” he interrupted sharply. His eyes became as cold as they had been the night before. Spying the caution that flickered in her eyes, he sighed as he held out his hand. “Come and sit, then, ma belle. It will be easier for me to relive that nightmare that was my previous marriage.”

  Uncertain of the shifting sands of Ashton’s moods, Kat approached slowly, and sat not on the bed next to him, but in the chair nearby. Ashton’s gaze met hers for a moment, and there was a terrible sadness within it that almost served to break down Kat’s reserves, but then he looked away, and the moment was lost.

  For a time, his eyes seemed to be gazing into the past, reliving what he had once seen before he spoke. “Christine was a . . . mistake. She was an older woman, and I, a young man captivated by the belief that someone so beautiful, so sophisticated – and yes, she was both, could ever want me for more than the title and money I would inherit on reaching adulthood.” For another moment he was silent, caught in the memories of the young and impudent man he had once been. He had been naïve and foolish, allowing Christine to control every aspect of their relationship, under the guise of ‘teaching him’ what the world had to offer. Her dark haired, blue-eyed beauty had captivated so many men that he had found it incredible that she would choose him. It wasn’t until much later that he discovered just what hid under that beauty.

  “Did you love her?” Kat asked softly as she tried to imagine the young man he had once been.

  Bitterly, Ash laughed. “That I ‘fell in love’ does not even begin to describe what I felt for her. Passion? Of course – we explored realms that only the most experienced would know. Yes, I felt those things, even as she blinded me with them. She used me, Katherine. She used my money and standing, but she did not love me, nor I her, not in the way that would last. Such an emotion was never a part of our life.” He shook his head, and she thought she saw something else rise in his eyes, something gentle and warm as he gazed at her, but then the instant passed, and he continued speaking. “Even after we married, she continued playing the coquette until she discovered that she was pregnant.”

  He scrubbed his face as if trying to erase the memories. “Once I was like you, Katherine, imagining a home filled with laughing children. But, she didn’t want the child . . . it would interfere with the life she had so meticulously planned for us. She told me that she wanted to take matters in her hands, to purge herself of such an ‘inconvenience’, as she put it. So, I bribed her. I promised her anything if she would only have our child.”

  Feeling ill, Kat recoiled at the idea. How could any woman want to be rid of their child? How could any woman not want the child that grows in her own body? I couldn’t ever imagine not wanting a child of mine … but then, I guess I’ve known what it’s like, not to be wanted… “Go on,” she prompted when Ashton’s words faded away. “Keep talking. It’s been a poison eating at you for years. What happened to her? Let it out, Ashton.”

  For a moment, he stared at her, stunned into silence by her compassion. How could she wish to know more? How could she feel for the woman who had partly twisted him into the man he had become? My Katherine, she is all light and gentleness, he thought with amazement, but before he could be overwhelmed, he concealed his emotions behind a mask of indifference that she recognized as the same one which Nick had habitually worn. With a shrug, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants; when he gazed at Kat, his eyes were very cold. “What happened to her? Nothing she did not deserve. Christine had the decency to grunt, push out our son, and quietly die.” Calmly, he moved away to pour himself a brandy, allowing the silence to blanket the room. When he turned, his drink in hand, he gritted his teeth at the sight of further questions still burning in her eyes. “What else is it that you want to know?”

  “Anton . . . why is he in a wheelchair?”

  “The pregnancy was difficult for Christine,” he replied flatly, as if he were tired of the topic. “Anton was a breech baby, the labor long and arduous. He was born four weeks early and we were not certain that he would live. He has always lagged behind in respect to physical growth when compared to other children his age, and he is very sickly. I have taken him to the best hospitals and clinics in the world to try and improve his health, but the doctors believe that he will never walk or play as other children, so . . .” It was only then that the anguish appeared in his eyes.

  There were so many questions flooding her mind, thoughts that she couldn’t find the words to ask. Will he be so callous when it comes to the matter of me bearing our child . . . if we have any? Will he turn from me as he did his former wife? “That is still no reason to give up,” she protested. “I want to get to know him, and when we ha
ve children . . .”

  “Babies . . . children!” His outburst was sudden and vicious. “Honestly, Katherine, that is all I have heard from you since we began courting. Can I not have you as my wife for a time before you succumb to your mothering instinct?”

  “Of course,” she said slowly, something dying in her eyes. “You already have a son, why would you want another?”

  In the back of her mind, Nick’s voice echoed from the past. Kids are great, as long as they are someone else’s.

  Ashton’s eyes flickered to hers, not understanding the melancholy look in her eyes. “Come, Katherine, I need you.”

  Shaking her head, she looked at him with lost eyes. “Not until you explain to me why you never spoke of Anton – about your past -- before we were married.”

  His eyes met hers squarely. “Do you think that I wanted your sympathy? To see my son as some pathetic cause for you to embrace? Or for you to see me as some weak fool, deserving of your pity? I wanted to be certain that you were marrying me – not my wretched son.”

  He was surprised as she suddenly crossed the room, and further startled by the stinging pain her hand left on his cheek. She was, he thought, the loveliest creature on which he had ever had the good fortune to lay eyes on, he thought, raising his hand to his burning cheek. “Katherine …”

  Standing back, her eyes flashed green fire as she clenched her hands to her side, and when she spoke, her words came in a hiss. “Don’t you dare speak of him that way! Not now, not ever!” Glaring at him, she folded her arms across her chest. “You said that you took him to all sorts of doctors. They had to have told you something.”

  Pausing, he took up his brandy before continuing. “If he sees past his next birthday – he will be six then – perhaps there is a chance he will grow stronger, but he will never walk without assistance. Christine wanted nothing to do with him, as I said, and didn’t even have the decency to inform me when she went into labor. If it hadn’t been for the medical personnel already in place, heaven only knows what she would have done.” A small smile crossed his lips as he reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Perhaps in time, the idea of children will become more appealing to me, but for right now, there are so many other things that I would wish for.”