Sign up now for a
Free Email Account &
your own Online
Writing Portfolio!
Username:
Password:  
Sponsored Links

Click Here To Bid  

Read a Newbie
Badges
Testimonials
Tell a Friend
Know someone who'd
like this page?

Email Address:

Optional Comment:

Who's Online?
Members: 387    
Guests: 1995    

   
Total Online Now: 2382    
Writing.Com Time

Tuesday
May 29, 2012
6:35pm EDT


Content Rating Notice:  Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
  >> Static Item >> Chapter >> Romance/Love >> ID #1594513  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Chapter Twenty: Afraid
Pain was a deep pit. One that seemed endless, hopeless, and pointless.
Rated:
18+
by
This item requires reviews with ratings.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **




FIRST DRAFT



Pain was a deep pit. One that seemed endless, hopeless, and pointless.

The only escape was complete unconsciousness; that blissful place between life and death that he could only stay for a little while. Eventually he had to return to this half-reality, where he could feel everything, and see nothing. Yet, somewhere above him there was a light. A soft and warm light, calling to him in this horrible darkness. The light was the only thing that kept him from crawling deeper into the pit, to a place where he couldn’t feel this pain. A place he didn’t think he could return from. So he tried to reach the light, and it hurt to try. His body wanted to rest, to give up, but the light beckoned him like a voice. Or maybe it was a voice. A soft warm voice, like a summer breeze across his face. Surely the voice was part of the cool touch against his skin, the sweet caress like feathers tingling his face.

As time passed, he got closer to this light– or voice, or touch– to this life that was calling him. His senses became more aware of the things around him. The sounds of birds and crickets, of light stepping feet and two quiet voices. One familiar and lovely, the other low and assured. He started to notice the different feel of their hands too. The gentle hands that soothed, and the roughened hands that healed.

Then there were times when there was no one at all. Just the muffled sounds of nature. The heat was unnatural wherever he was, making it hard to breathe but never stopping the chills from shuddering through his body and rattling his teeth till they ached from the constant motion.

Slowly the cold went away, and he no longer felt like he was burning and freezing at the same time. After a long spell of complete unconsciousness he woke in the dark, it took a moment to figure out how to open his eyes. His muscles no longer in unison with his brain after so little use. He tried to make out the details of his surroundings but he could only figure he was in a small room. A shade of lighter black on the opposite wall hinted the presence of a window, but there wasn’t any light outside to confirm this. He heard skittering in the corner and turned his head slightly, realizing that the sound was on his level and he was on the floor on top of a layer of blankets. With caution he shifted his head to the other side and saw the red glow of embers in front of him, hissing the last of their life. He had found the source of the unbearable heat.

He focused his muscles and tried to sit up but his head weighed a thousand pounds and his body protested strongly. He went limp on the blankets and listened to the sound of his own heavy breathing. He couldn’t remember where he was, or how long he’d been there, or why every part of his body ached. The pain in his chest burned and stung, but he couldn’t recall being wounded so he had no explanation for the throbbing.

He tried to concentrate his thoughts. The Clan had been on a job. Did it go wrong? He had been mad at Sam for something. Sam was hurting someone . . .

There was sound somewhere to his right. Light footsteps came up the front porch, moving closer to what he realized was the door. He heaved himself onto his elbows and felt pain explode in his head, but he fought it. Trying to focus on the source of the footsteps. Whoever it was, struggled with the door and suddenly it came crashing down, shaking the whole house. The salute of a tall thin black woman stood in the entrance, a lantern held at her side. She set the light down and hastened to reposition the door in its place, muttering to herself as she lifted the rotting board. She didn’t notice him watching her until she picked up the lantern and held it high to light the room. When she saw him, her eyes widened and her mouth parted in a silent ‘oh.’

Joseph studied the woman, her colorless calico dress was patched in places and was too short for her long limbs. Her short black hair was tied neatly at the nape of her neck, enhancing her wide forehead and dark eyes. She was obviously a slave from the clothes she wore, but whose slave he had no idea.

“You’s up,” she said taking a step closer. The candlelight flickered on the walls as she moved.

Joseph tried to answer and ask where he was, but his throat felt like parchment and his arms were having trouble supporting his weight. He meant to ease himself back onto the makeshift bed, but collapsed before this could be accomplished. A groan rumbled from his throat and he closed his eyes against the aching of his bones.

He heard the woman kneel down beside him; the splash of water in a pale drew his attention. He opened his eyes and accepted the ladle she put to his mouth, gulping down the sweet liquid like a dying dog. In silence she spooned water to his mouth, when he finally had his fill she dropped the ladle into the bucket and he heard it clunk against the bottom.

“Better?” she asked, shifting to a position that wasn’t quite so close to him.

Joseph nodded. “Much.” His voice was raspy and he coughed a few times before continuing. “Thank you.”

She shrugged and put her hand to his forehead. “How you feelin’?”

He resisted the urge to push her away. “Like I was shot, thrown off a wagon, and dragged through the woods.”

He saw the corner of her mouth twitch. “That ain’t far off. No tellin’ why you ain’t dead. Your body sure went through enough.”

Joseph squinted at her, trying to remember if he’d seen her in his delusional state. “Who are you?”

The slave’s dark eyes studied him for a moment. “Liza. And you are on the property of Master de la Chaise, ‘bout a quarter mile from his house. That’s another reason you should be dead. The master don’t take kindly to strangers.” She abruptly jerked down his blanket to his waist and for the first time he noticed the thick layer of bandages wrapped around his chest, and that he was naked.

He watched as she grabbed a pair of scissors from her dress pocket, trying to remember why the name ‘de la Chaise’ sounded so familiar. His brain, however, refused to strain itself any more than necessary. Liza snipped the sheets in two, and it did not occur to him to ask what she was doing or be afraid. As far as he could tell she had kept him alive; why question things just because he was conscious? Once the wraps had been removed, he was able to see the source of the endless throbbing. On his left breastplate, only inches above his heart, his skin was red and seared by what resembled a knife, the pulsing scar obviously the product of a bullet hole. He glanced at Liza to see her reaction to the wound, but she barely looked at it. She pulled jars of ointment out of her bag, and began mixing them together.

“How did I get here?” Joseph asked, filling the silence.

Liza continued stirring her mixture as she spoke. “Your brother and that friend of his came brought you here on their wagon ‘bout three days ago. Left right after day break.”

“My brother brought me here? Why?”

Liza threw him an agitated look. “How’s I supposed to know? Guess he thought Miss Crystal could help you.”

“Crystal?”

Joseph felt the world finally come crashing down on him. Memories rushed back in waves; the last few months up until the robbery snapped together like pieces of a puzzle. He saw Crystal running towards Red in his mind’s eye. Red raising his gun. He, Joseph, running forward to grab Crystal out of the way of the oncoming bullet. But he’d never gotten there. Somehow he’d been shot instead, and Red’s gun never went off. Sam’s had. The trigger pulled by the trembling fingers of a young girl.

Crystal had looked so scared as she turned toward him, her blue eyes huge, her face bloody. How had he let this happen?

“I never meant for her to get hurt,” he murmured.

Liza’s eyes narrowed. “Now you listen, boy. I don’t know how that girl got caught up in a mess like you, but I swears if you hurt her in any way ever again, I will hunt you down and skin you alive.”

“Is she all right?” he asked, not allowing himself to flinch away from the woman’s angry gaze..

“After what your friend did to her?” Liza dabbed at the mixture with her fingers and brushed it over his wounds. “I should think not. Screamin’ in her sleep and cryin’ for no reason ain’t all right. I’s surprised she alive at all after that rescue mission she went on with your brother to Gallatin Street. Ain’t no place for a lady, that’s for sure.”

Joseph closed his eyes and tried to keep up with what the woman was saying. “Michael? Why was she with my brother? And why did they go to Gallatin Street?”

“To find you!” Liza snapped, her fingers jabbing harder than necessary as she spoke. “To bring you here. To save your life.”

“I didn’t ask – I didn’t want her to do that.”

“Well, she sure enough did. I’m havin’ a hard time understandin’ why right now, but I’m hopin’ you can prove to me your worth somethin’. I know Miss Crystal ain’t savin’ you from hangin’ jus’ so you can go back to killin’ and stealin’. She must have a reason for wantin’ you around.”

Joseph groaned again, though this time not from pain.“She thinks she can save me from my life.”

Liza pressed bandages over his bullet wound as she spoke, “Can she?”

Joseph started to say no, but stopped, thinking for a long moment. “Maybe.”

Liza helped him into a sitting position so that she could better wrap the bandages around him. Joseph was sweating by the time he gratefully sank back onto the blankets. After dosing him with laudanum, Liza left to fetch more water and once she’d returned she began carefully packing away her medicines.

“Where is she now?” Joseph asked staring up at the rotting ceiling.

“Sleepin’ of course,” Liza said. The sharp glance told him she heard the odd soft tone his voice had taken.

He would have laughed if he’d had the energy. He’d forgotten it was late, yet he wanted so badly to see for himself that she was all right. In his world the hour didn’t usually matter and he could do what he liked when he liked. The sun never ruled the Clan. “Will she – does she ever . . .” He couldn’t find the right words to finish his question.

“Be comin’ here?” Liza supplied. He was surprised she understood what he meant.

“Yes.”

“If it was up to me she wouldn’t be.” Liza brown eyes looked worn in the dim light. “But that girl sure got determined since she met you. She been out here every afternoon waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Really?” Joseph had to force back the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. She had been waiting for him to wake up? She didn’t hate him after everything he’d put her through? He felt relief run through his veins, though he hadn’t even realized he’d been harboring the thoughts.

Liza nodded shortly and put the last of her things away. “You need to sleep. Ain’t nothin’ but rest and God gonna heal you now. And you best not be tryin’ to get up cuz ain’t nothin’ good gonna come of it.” She stood and picked up the lantern off the floor. The shadows swirled around the room, huge and shapeless.

Joseph nodded, already feeling the effects of the laudanum she’d given him. “I’ll try and remember that,” he mumbled. His eyelids closed and he could do nothing to stop them. The last thing he saw was Liza lifting the broken door from the floor.





*******






Crystal glared at Liza’s slim reflection in the mirror. The maid met her angry gaze with cool dark eyes, her hands never faltering in their quest to tame Crystal’s hair. She was getting ready to visit Charles for the first time since the robbery. The only other time she’d seen him was at Papa Marginy’s funeral yesterday, and that had been surrounded by people. They’d barely spoken to each other, and Crystal was shocked by how terrible he had looked. He obviously hadn’t slept in days, his face gaunt and pale, dark circles were under his eyes. It had taken very little of Mother’s hinting for her to decide to call on him today. Even if she didn’t love him, she still felt sympathy for him.

But this was not what was on Crystal’s mind at the moment.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Crystal demanded, her voice raising an octave closer to a shriek.

Liza dropped her eyes and intently worked on Crystal’s mane. Her fingers tugged harder than before, and the tautness of her sharp jaw told Crystal she was trying to hold back what she wanted to say.

“Liza!” Crystal hated the whinny note in her voice, but she couldn’t control it.

Liza’s eyes flashed as she met Crystal’s pleading gaze. “Child, have you taken complete leave of yo’ senses? You think I’m gonna be draggin’ you outta yo’ bed after midnight so you can go look at that boy? I fixed him up, gave him some mo’ medicine and he went back to sleep. You didn’t miss nothin’.”

“But I wanted to see him!” The whinny note was only getting worse, but Crystal didn’t care. She dropped her head into her folded arms on the vanity dramatically, and refused to look up.

Liza was having none of this. Crystal shrieked as Liza gave her long braid a single jerk, she was forced back into a proper sitting position once more.

“If you gonna act like a child, I for sure is gonna treat you like one,” Liza said. Crystal recognized the hard glint in her eyes, though it had been awhile since she’d seen it. She sighed, and submitted to her maid’s will.

The silence in the air was thick with unsaid words and the sound of Liza’s deep inhaling. After a few minutes, Crystal looked up and saw the silent tears that were streaming down her maid’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Liza,” she murmured quietly. “I just – I need to see him.”

Liza put a hand to her mouth and turned away quickly; she crossed the room to her cot. Crystal’s eyes widened at the sound of her maids muffled sobs. She rushed to Liza’s side and sank to her knees.

“Liza? Liza, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I was being childish. I understand why you didn’t wake me.” Crystal tried to pull Liza’s hands away so she could see her face but the maid resisted.

“I don’ know what to do, pumpkin. I can’t take seein’ you like this.”

Crystal felt tears prick her eyes, utter bewilderment and worry driving her to weep. She pulled harder on Liza’s hands, but the maid was determined to stay concealed. “Liza, what on earth are you talking about? See me like what?”

Finally Liza lifted her head, and Crystal almost fell over as the resistence slackened. Her maid’s eyes were snaked with red and her nose ran. “Like this, child. So caught up in something you can never have.”

“What – what do you –”

“Joseph, pumpkin! That man you got hidin’ out there!”Liza wiped her face across her brown sleeve and fixed Crystal with a firm, but gentle gaze. “He’s not like you, he’s a criminal. Nothin’ good’s gonna come of you bein’ ‘round him. And if anybody finds out ‘bout this you’ll be ruined.”

“I know that, Liza, but I have to help him.”

“You done enough, I’ll take care of him from now on.”

“No!” Crystal spoke louder than she’d intended, and Liza flinched. Crystal tried to ease her tone but her voice shook with contained emotion. “Liza, I need to see him. It can only be me. Please don’t fight me on this; I know what I’m doing.”

Liza nodded reluctantly and wiped the tears from her face. Crystal stood and helped her maid to her feet. “Tomorrow,” Liza said. “Tomorrow you can see him. I’ll check on him tonight and we’ll go together in the morning.”

Crystal wanted to protest the delay, but held herself. She would try and compromise, if that’s what it took to see Joseph.

“Now come on.” Liza pulled Crystal back to the vanity and directed her back into the chair. “You gotta get ready to see your fiance.”

Crystal noted the emphasis Liza put on fiancé and had to hold back a laugh. As if she’d forgotten. As if she would ever forget.





*******






The sweltering heat of the past three days was finally eased after a short rain storm that left the city choking under thick steam. Clouds of deep gray-blue hung in the sky and threatened another downpour at any moment. This sticky, gloomy weather did not help lift the grieving mood of those at the de Mandeville mansion. It was lifeless without Papa Marginy’s grinning presence. The mirrors were covered in every room and even the orange glow of the many candles did not harbor any warmth. Crystal found the sadness claustrophobic. She was ushered into the parlor by a round maid with puffy red eyes, who tried to keep the tears out of her voice as she told Crystal Mrs. de Marginy would be down in a moment.

Once the maid disappeared, Crystal perched on a stiff- backed chair and wondered if she should have waited a few more days to visit the grieving family. As promised, Eleanor appeared within moments. She was dressed in a lovely, yet simple, mourning gown and offered Crystal a gentle hug as she stood to greet her. Once her soon to be mother-in-law was sitting across from her, Crystal could better see the change in her. She was, as always, composed and gentle, but her round rosy cheeks were now pale and the spark in her eyes had gone out. The woman Crystal used to admire seemed, somehow, hollow.

“How are you doing, Mrs. de Marginy?” Crystal asked quietly, feeling that if she spoke too loudly she would shatter Eleanor’s thin control.

Mrs. de Marginy smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m as well as can be expected, darling. But I believe it is I who should be asking that question.” Eleanor glanced over Crystal’s face, which, she knew, was still ugly with bruises that could not be covered even by a large doses of powder. At the funeral she was able to hide them with a veil, but there was little she could do to conceal them here.

“You went through quite an ordeal,” Eleanor went on. “It wasn’t necessary to visit so soon, Charles and I would have understood.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. de Marginy,” Crystal said, hoping that she sounded convincing. It was true, to some degree. She was healing quickly, even if it didn’t look like it. The fact that she was out of the house without Liza attested to that. The many reasons she wasn’t fine were all things she couldn’t possibly explain to Mrs. de Marginy. Rose had yet to come out of her room; Joseph was only just taking a turn for the better, and it seemed that the entire household walked around her expecting her to fall to pieces. But, no, she was fine.

“Is Charles home?” Crystal asked, trying to change the subject.

A strange look crossed Eleanor’s face at these words, though Crystal couldn’t quite place it. She glanced at the door and wouldn’t meet Crystal’s gaze when she spoke. “He – he was here earlier, but he’s been spending a lot of time with Mr. Dreaux at the Calbido. I’m afraid he’s bent on revenge.”

“Oh dear,” Crystal said quietly.

“Yes, he hasn’t been doing well. It’s a shame that he wasn’t here to see you. I’m sure your presence would have done him good.” Eleanor again glanced at the door, her mouth falling into a slight frown.

Crystal nodded, for once upset that Charles was not around. She really was worried about him and wondered if he would ever be able to move on from his father’s murder.

A maid entered moments later with a tray of tea and Eleanor poured them each a cup. They spent half an hour awkwardly trying to talk about things that were unimportant, but in the end failed. Crystal made her excuses when she felt the act was near to falling apart and promised to visit again soon. Eleanor began to rise and escort her out but Crystal insisted she could find the door fine on her own.

She left Mrs. de Marginy in the parlor and started down the hall. It was as she was passing the thick oak door that concealed what she knew to be Mr. de Marginy’s study, that Crystal heard a soft muttering She twisted the handle and inched the door open, wondering who was behind it. Hadn’t Eleanor said Charles was at the Calbido? She peeked into the study through the small crack she’d opened. The first thing she saw was a man sitting at Papa Marginy’s oak desk, his face obscured by the newspaper he held in front of him. Crystal could tell it was Charles by the way he sat in the chair, even from behind the newspaper his presence commanded the room. Curious as to why Eleanor had told her Charles was gone when he was in the study, Crystal didn’t move away.

“How could they have let him escape?” Charles demanded, his voice was low and held a sharp edge. Crystal read the headlines of the Picayune through the small line in the door; MANHUNT FOR THEODORE RILEY CONTINUES! At least that explained why Charles was so upset. “I practically handed him to the police and still he’s out there!”

Charles threw the paper onto the desk and, standing, he strode to the large window to his right. Crystal had to stifle a gasp upon seeing him in the harsh light the cloudy day offered. He was past pale and moving closer to a deathly white. The golden shine of his hair was gone, replaced by limp, dull yellow strands that hung around his gaunt face. The shadows under his gray eyes had deepened to a near purple since she’d seen him yesterday. Yet, all of this was not what was most changed about him, it was the way his eyes shot nervously in every direction, when usually he calmly scanned a room. Never had Crystal seen him look as he did now. He seemed almost . . . afraid.

“The police are doing everything they can, Charles.” Crystal was not surprised to hear William’s nasal voice come from the opposite end of the room. Though she wondered why his words sounded muffled.

Charles’ head swung around to stare at his friend. “Everything? If this,” Charles jabbed a finger in the direction of the paper on the desk, “is everything they can do then New Orleans is doomed to fall into the hands of criminals. Why, they haven’t even searched Gallatin Street. The cowards are too scared of sneak-thieves and pick-pockets! If they were doing everything they could they’d have caught the bastard who attacked you!”

“Charles, please – your mother,” William said quietly, his voice even more muffled.

Charles shot a sharp glance towards the door and Crystal stepped back quickly in alarm. What would he think if he found her out here eavesdropping? After a few heartbeats, Charles footsteps came closer. Panicked, Crystal looked up and down the hall in search of a place to hide. The footsteps were coming too fast for her to slip into the next room, and there was nothing to conceal her.

Thinking quickly, she took a few steps back towards the parlor and pretended she was only just leaving it. Charles swung open the door and looked up the hall before turning his head in her direction. When his gaze fell upon her, taking in the state of her face, a brief flash of alarm lit his eyes before being replaced by a mask of welcome.

“Crystal, cherie, what a surprise to see you. I wasn’t told that you’d come to call.” Charles smiled at her, but she noted the coldness in his eyes. She knew he was lying to her, for some reason he hadn’t wanted to see her and told Eleanor to say he was out. But he did seem surprised by her bruises, and that she was in the hall.

By now Crystal was practiced at appearing happy, so it was not difficult to return Charles smile. “I was actually on my way out. Mrs. de Marginy told me you were at the Court House with Mr. Dreaux.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Charles nodded. “Yes, seeing to a few small matters of my father’s will.” He shrugged in a clumsy way that was not common for her fiancé. Crystal moved closer, trying to get a better look at him. He looked ill, and actually backed away from her as she advanced, something he would have never done before.

“How are you, Charles?” Crystal asked, taking another step forwards. She caught the scent of whiskey coming off his breath and realized why he’d retreated from her and why his gray eyes were blood shot.

“It’s a difficult time. I’ve kept busy,” Charles responded, and though his tone was indifferent, Crystal was relieved that he sounded somewhat like his old self.

“I’m sure it’s comforting for you to be in your father’s study,” Crystal said glancing at the partially closed door. “I would love to see it.”

Before Charles could stop her, Crystal grasped the knob and pushed open the heavy oak door. Charles reached out a hand to seize her arm, but she slipped into the room quickly. The smell of old books and fine cigars brought dozens of memories of Papa Marginy to her mind. Not a single candle was lit in the room and the only light was the gloom from outside the window. In a worn leather chair, in the far corner of the room, Crystal spotted William. He was staring at her, one eye wide with alarm. The other, Crystal noticed, was clamped shut and a deep shade of purple. There was another shiny bruised lump on his forehead and his nose was splotched with dried blood. His mouth was parted in surprise, and along with the blood trickling from his split lip, Crystal saw that two of his bottom teeth were missing.

“Oh my,” Crystal breathed, raising her hand to her mouth. “What – what happened?”

Charles attempted to block her view of William. “An accident, darling, nothing to concern yourself with.”

Crystal shook her head and pushed herself around her fiancé. William was looking very uneasy and tried to hide his face behind the bloody cloth in his hand. When he spoke, Crystal realized that it was the cloth that made his voice muffled. “I assure you, Miss de la Chaise, it’s nothing.”

“Who did this to you?” Crystal demanded, though she turned back to Charles before William had a chance to answer. “Was it the Clan?”

Charles turned away from her and strode to his father’s desk. “There’s no proof of that as yet,” Charles said, his tone cold and dismissive.

“But you know it was them,” Crystal persisted. “Have you reported this to the police?”

Charles looked up sharply. “No. And we will not be doing so, neither will you.”

Crystal noted the warning, almost threatening edge to his words, and couldn’t suppress her curiosity. “But why? If Mr. Dreaux could describe the man that assaulted him the police may be able to catch him.”

Charles eyes narrowed. “This is none of your concern.”

“I was the one attacked in that robbery,” Crystal said, taking a defiant step forward. “ How is it not my concern?!”

Charles calmly sat down in the leather chair behind the desk, though Crystal could see the stiff set of his jaw. “William, if you would please excuse us, I wish to speak to Miss de la Chaise in private.”

William nodded quickly. “Of course. I’ll just go and – and find something to ease the . . .” He pressed his bloody handkerchief to his face and the rest of his sentence was lost to them. He left the room, the door closing solidly behind him.

After a few moments of silence Charles laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the desk. “As your fiancé – and soon to be husband – I must insist that you mention this incident to no one.”

“But – ”

“This discussion is over.”

Crystal could feel the fiery heat pulsing through her veins. Did he think her a child who could be so easily dismissed? “Why are you so wary of the police?” She pushed down the angry tears that threatened in her eyes, her words steady and cool. “What are you hiding?”

Charles steel gray eyes flashed and he jumped to his feet. “Are you suggesting that I am not doing everything I can to find my father’s killer? Because I assure, mademoiselle, you are sorely mistaken.” Crystal was alarmed to see Charles’ eyes shine with moisture as he continued, “They murdered my father and I won’t rest until every last member of that Clan is hanging from the gallows. I swear on my father’s memory, they will all pay!”

Charles slumped back into his chair and hid his face in his hands. Crystal was appalled to realize he was sobbing.

Too bewildered to think about the hatred she’d seen glint in Charles eyes, and the disturbing plans he had for the Clan, she moved to his side and stroked her fingers through his hair. She murmured soothing words as if he were a child. Finally his sobs ceased and Crystal took a step back.

“Forgive me, Charles. I did not mean to upset you.”

“No, ma charie, it is I who should ask forgiveness. I had no right to lash out at you as I did.” He pulled her into his lap and Crystal didn’t resist, though she was uneasy to be there. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, lightly tracing his fingers over her dark bruises. “I’m sorry they did this to you.”

He looked so wretched with his hair all rumpled and his tear stained face, that Crystal couldn’t hold her anger. She caressed his stubbled cheeks and tried to smile. “It wasn’t your fault,” she assured him.

Charles’ eyes flickered and he pursed his lips as he nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said again. Before she could reply he kissed her, and Crystal did her best not to pull away. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant to have his lips on hers, but she couldn’t stop herself from thinking of the fire that Joseph’s kiss had lit inside her. She had thought she would melt under his touch, but Charles had no such effect on her. Crystal wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to block Joseph from her mind. Charles seemed to take her action as eagerness and deepened the kiss. His lips were warm, yet Crystal could smell the sourness of his breath and the sweat that seeped through his clothing. One of his hands ran up her back and she gasped when the other one cupped her breast.

“Charles!”

“Crystal, my darling, how long I’ve wanted you.”

He kissed her again, harder than before, the hand that was exploring her back now pulling her head to his.

When Crystal thought she would pass out from lack of air, he finally released her. The grieving son of moments before was gone, Charles was now grinning victoriously at her as she panted for breath.

“It won’t be long now, ma cherie.”

Crystal looked at him questioningly. “What – what do you mean?”

Charles laughed in that familiar mocking way of his, and set her on her feet. “Our wedding of course,” he said, standing as well. She had to shift her eyes up to meet his gaze.

“But – your – Papa Marginy only just passed away. What about the mourning period?”

“As I’ve told the newspapers, my father wouldn’t want us to push back the wedding to mourn. It was his greatest wish to have grandchildren. I’m going to make sure that happens as soon as possible.” Charles gave her a sly look and started pushing her to the door. “Now, why don’t you hurry home before I decide that our honeymoon is today.

Crystal was too shocked to think, or even be embarrassed by his implications. The wedding was still on September 24th? That was less than a month away! She couldn’t leave Oak Alley until Joseph was healed!

Charles opened the door and prodded her through it and down the hall to the front door that he quickly opened as well; his eyes scanned the streets swiftly before he rested his gaze on her. “Have Ben take you straight home,” he said with another nervous glance around them.

Crystal nodded and Charles kissed her hand in farewell. Slowly she made her way down the lawn to Big Ben who was waiting with the coach.

“Everythin’ all right Miss Crystal?” Ben asked.

She glanced back at Charles who was standing at the door, watching those who passed with sharp suspicion. She sighed. “No, Ben, I don’t believe anything’s all right anymore.”

Ben gave a grim nod of his head, his eyes following hers to Charles. After a moment he sighed as well and turned back to help her into the coach.



*******




"Chapter Twenty-One: Secrets
© Copyright 2009 Grace (UN: 2beautiful7g at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Grace has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback
Username:
Password:
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!

All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!