Whatever Chapter this is:
The morning was quiet around the house and Elena slept until noon. After washing and letting Mary have her way, she was now dressed in a smart calf-length summer dress in dark green that the little maid had gotten from somewhere. Elena found herself suddenly awash in clothing and though she felt guilty about it, the girl inside rejoiced at it.
It wasn’t lost on her that today it wouldn’t hurt to look a little nicer than usual. After all, Byron was supposed to return today and though she worried about Margaret as she’d fallen asleep last night, in the light of day it was easier to pass those thoughts off as silly. The woman had loved him, she could never hurt him, could she?
When she came down to eat finally, and found Edward waiting for her in the parlor.
“You look lovely with your hair up like that darling!” Edward enthused, his accent making the endearment sound like dah-lin.
She smiled back at him and turned to see herself in the mirror over the mantle. Her curls were piled on her head, except where they artfully tumbled down the side of her neck. The dress was cut straight down from her shoulders but it left them and a substantial part of her chest bear at the “v” shaped collar.
She couldn’t help but give him a little spin to admire her.
“Byron will loose the ability to speak when he sees you dear.”
She giggled, and covered her mouth, blushing. It was a terribly girlish sound, and she had been striving to be more of an adult. Perhaps that would let Byron stop feeling so awkward about their separation in ages. Apparent ages at least.
Edward didn’t notice anything amiss however. He was quite pleased to see the girl acting her age. It might mean that she was returning to her normal cheerfulness instead of the strange manic behavior he’d observed over the last few days.
They brunched on the brick porch informally; much to Elena’s relief, and since the weather was so pleasant, sat through the afternoon and read on that sunlit porch. It was a rare treat to Elena to get to be outside like this in the warm sun and cool air with just a sweater to warm her and not to have to worry that she was outside in the air too long. That if she wasn’t careful she would come down ill again. She knew that finally she was free of that constant fear and it was in this moment that she relinquished forever the idea of her dependency on Byron as bondage. It was the price she paid to live a life that she never would have been given and she couldn’t wait for Byron to return so she could tell him how much she appreciated it and tell him how much she loved him.
She smiled at the blue sky, at her companion on the lawn furniture with his eyeglasses glinting in the sun and listened to the sound of her city teeming around her and she was content.
So, it was to a scene of pleasant domesticity as the afternoon waned toward evening that an unexpected visitor was announced.
“Excuse me, Miss Smith, Doctor Wilson,” said the staid Conrad, bowing slightly at the waist, “You have visitors. A Father Howard a Mister Baum and Miss Margaret.”
The blood rushed through Elena’s veins at the sound of the other woman’s name and she stood quickly hate blossoming inside her, constricting her chest so that she had to fight to get air into them.. Edward also rose, seeing her distress and gestured for her to be still.
“Please show them into the parlor, Conrad, we will be with them in a moment.”
“Yes, Sir.” The tall man answered, and bowed as he turned to go back in the house.
“Elena.” Edward called her name, but all she could hear was the blood rushing in her viens.
“Elena!”
He took her by the arms and turned her to him. She stared at the doorway as if she expected Margaret to shove through it somehow.
“Elena!”
A little shake woke her but her rage blinded her.
“She’s in my house Edward. This is my house and Byron’s house and she dares to come here!”
She was going to be sick.
“Be calm Elena. I can see what they want and send them away…”
“You can’t do that without me!” She raged, ripping away from him suddenly and pacing across the little courtyard.
“I was at peace here, finally! Byron is coming home! And she’s come to ruin it I know she has and I hate her and she’s here with Howard and who knows what she’s told him and Edward, Byron could be in danger or he could be dead, and…”
“And nothing!” Edward hissed at her, “Get a hold of yourself Elena! We don’t have any idea what’s going on and you being hysterical doesn’t help anything!”
She stopped and tried to gather herself, slowing her breathing and trying to bring the chaos within her under control.
Was this what Byron’s beast was like? Some living thing within him that wanted to get out and just terrorize everything around him?
She shut it down a piece at a time and the doctor approached her carefully like a creature that might bolt at any moment, until he had his arms around her.
Elena still trembled with suppressing the emotions but she was still and quiet and worked through it enough that he thought she could go inside. Raising her eyes to meet his she spoke.
“I will not hide from her.”|
“Fair enough,” Edward answered, “but you must be careful and you mustn’t let your feelings control you.” He smiled suddenly. “I always tell Byron the very same thing.”
Elena wondered at the man’s ability to find humor in any situation, but now was not the time. She turned on her heel and into the house, past the dining room and the kitchen and through the hallway towards the parlor, the doctor at her back to face her enemy.
Margaret stood by the mantle. The candles that burned there on the sconces causing blue streaks in her midnight hair, were second only to the burning of her bright pale face, eyes flashing with live emotions.
Elena suddenly understood what Byron had seen in the woman. She was beautiful and almost seemed more real than the world around her for her vibrancy. There was nothing left of the cold cruel woman who had seemed determined to make her life unpleasant. It was like the fire of her own hatred had burned that woman up and out of the ashes stood a dangerous vibrant new phoenix full of confidence and with nothing to loose. It stopped Elena short and she realized that she must resist the urge to do battle and instead observe and react in her own time. The anger that had touched her was doused as if by a cold winter shower and she slid to a stop just inside the doorway, the doctor brought up short behind her.
“Welcome to the Murphy home.” Elena bowed her head, taking the moment to look at her other guests.
Howard had been sitting on the couch and stood, his brows gathered in that worried way she was so familiar with. Another man who she supposed was Mister Baum stood beside him. He was a stout man in his fifties with kind grey blue eyes and a receding hairline. He took a step towards Elena and inclined his head.
“I’m sorry to bother you Miss Smith,” he spoke with a quiet Bostonian brogue and stepped forward to greet her. “I’m Manny Baum from Social Services.”
A genuine smile graced Elena’s features as she took his hand and they shared a friendly handshake. She immediately liked him and wondered what kind of tale Margaret could have spun to get both this gentleman and the kind priest to come here.
“This is Dr. Wilson,” she introduced, stepping aside so the two men could shake hands. “What can I do for you this evening, Mr. Baum?
“Margaret Stokes here has made a report to our department that I have to investigate.” He told them, turning back to his chair and waiting for them to seat themselves.
Ignoring Margaret’s stare, she took her favorite seat on the settee next to the fireplace, gesturing for Edward to sit with her.
“What is this report regarding?” She questioned politely, squashing her rage and desire to strike out at the offensive woman.
“It a matter that requires delicate handling,” the man began but he was interrupted by Margaret.
“Its about this Mister Howard practically selling you as a whore to Mr. Murphy!” She gestured at the sweet old gentleman with disdain, her voice icy and yet full of menace as she spoke with deliberate annunciation.
“That is quite an accusation.” Edward answered calmly before Elena had a chance to speak, “fairly ridiculous, I might say as Monsignor Howard is a respected member of the clergy and Mr. Byron a businessman and humanitarian of some renown...”
“I agree entirely.” Mr. Baum replied, watching the reactions of everyone in the room. “However, it is serious enough a claim that I had to investigate, and since there was some, irregularity even in the Monsignor’s mind about the fostering of Miss Smith, I decided that a visit was necessary. Miss Smith is still in the care of the state, and we have to protect he best interests. Is Mister. Murphy himself home?”
“He isn’t.” Elena answered before the doctor could pre-empt her, but she was shaking with suppressed rage. “He had to travel out of town for business.”
“How convenient for him.” Margaret sneered.
Elena stood to face her but the small social worker got between the two women.
“Mrs. Stokes, if you cannot refrain from colorful comment I’ll have to ask you to leave.” he warned.
She huffed in response.
“Now then Miss Smith, please sit back down and tell me how you came to live with Mr. Murphy.”
She did as she was told and tried to calm herself enough to speak. She didn’t know what she would do if they decided to take her away from Byron. Would he be able to visit her in the night, or would he be kept from her and Margaret finally succeed in her death? That would not happen, it couldn’t be allowed and so it was with a measure of confidence that she began.
“I was always a sickly child, Mr. Baum, and I was left at the orphanage by my young mother at three. Precocious in my studies perhaps because I spent so much of my time studying for lack of being able to play, as a teenager I started teaching the other children. It was because I was a teacher that I came to be introduced to Mr. Murphy during his annual visit to the orphanage and he came to know of my plight.”
Elena stood and walked around the little couch so she could pace in front of the stairs.
“I was dying, you see.” She spoke in a hushed voice, and every ear strived to listen to her, even the seething Margaret.
“Mr. Murphy thought that perhaps if I had special care that I might be saved, and since his best friend, Doctor Wilson here, would be available to care for me if I was at his home, he offered to take me in.” She turned to look into the bright eyes of the kind man, “There was never anything inappropriate about it. Mr. Murphy and I became friends.”
“But the Monsignor claims that it was more than that. At least for you.” The man said, leading her on to more detail.
But betrayal had shot through her at the utterance.
“How could you tell him that?” Elena turned to the Priest, wounded tears clearly in her eyes. “I told you that in confidence and you used it against me? Told a third party?”
Howard was ashen and looked down at the floor unable to face her.
“If you are being abused, Elena, I have to report it. I regret that it means I had to break the confidence between us. I hope you can forgive me.”
It was if Elena’s whole world had suddenly changed again. Shifted into unreality for the umpteenth time in the last six months. Tears fell and she mourned for the girl she had been who was now lost.
“The issue of confidences aside,” the social worker continued, “Why is it that you left school? I called Brooklyn School for Women and they say that you were taken to hospital; the hospital says they have no records of your visit, that there was a mysterious fire in their records department sometime yesterday and that the records of your visit were lost. If you were sick enough to be in the hospital a week ago at the very latest, why are you walking around now?
The doctor answered.
“Elena has weak lungs and has a tendency to contract pneumonia. The infection does respond well, thankfully, to an experimental drug that a friend of mine at oxford has developed.”
“So she needs the medicine, alright, you would have to administer it to her were she to be ill, but she is fine now. Why hasn’t she returned to school, or to Howard who asked her to come home?”
The reasonable question hovered in the air for a long moment. Then a voice from the hall answered.
“Because she’s staying for me.”
Elena’s heartbeat quickened at the sound of Byron’s voice but it was not her lover that entered the waiting room.
A young man of perhaps eighteen strode confidently into the room, his black riding boots clicking authoritatively on the wooden planks of the floor. He had Byron’s flashing blue eyes and high cheekbones but the face that had been handsome in age was in youth, pretty like a woman’s. His long lashes and slightly tussled midnight hair were startling against a creamy complexion that blushed with the pink health of youth. His clothing was tight riding pants and a smart tailed jacket to match, and he gave off the air of an athlete who had just come in from the weather.
Breathless is not a term to be used lightly when one is struck by beauty, but this was Elena’s reaction to him as he handed his riding crop to Conrad who had followed him into the room and then smiled holding out his hand to the waiting Mr. Baum.
“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.” He snapped his heels together like an officer in the army and smiled winsomely at the man. “I’m glad I arrived in time to speak with you.”
Baum responded immediately to the charm Byron emanated.
“And you are?” The man asked.
“George Byron Murphy at your service.” He inclined his head politely, “Byron Murphy is my Uncle.”
Margaret made a noise that resembled a growl and the Doctor gave a chuckle at the name.
“Well met, Mr. Murphy.” Baum responded, “Would you care to explain?”
“Ah. Of course.” The young man replied, flashing another of those sideways smiles toward Elena, who had to grab the back of the couch for support. Knowing that Byron could change his age and seeing such a startling example of it were two totally different things and her body was trying to betray her by melting into a little puddle of girl right there on the floor of the parlor.
Byron had been reaching out towards her to feel her reaction and was gratified, nearly giddy with his pleasure at it. But he had serious business to effect here before he allowed the drunken sensation of Elena’s admiration to run away with him.
“You see,” he explained, pacing towards his beloved, “I asked Elena to keep our relationship a secret from my Uncle. He doesn’t approve of youths as young as ourselves being together.”
He came around the couch and slipped his arm around his nearly feint lover, and the close contact with the firm young body beneath the clothing did nothing to make paying attention to his words any easier. She took a deep breath, and smelled the leather and man that was holding her against him and a shiver ran the length of her body.
“Uncle Byron, thinks that we don’t know what we want at so young an age, but I told him that we have to be together and Elena feels the same way. Don’t you, Beloved?”
He expected her to speak?
She looked up into his eyes and his presence filled her up from inside, where she had felt like falling it was as if all her energy and strength had suddenly reappeared and she stood straight and tall and wrapped her arms about him tightly.
How did you do that? She questioned him.
Magic, he answered coyly.
She laughed, and suddenly remembering the false name he’d given she laughed even more, sure that now he was here nothing would separate them again.
“Of course I want to be with you, George!”.
He smiled back and it was filled with all of the fondness and love he had for her and he knew that this had been the right decision for both of them.
Searching in his pocket he pulled out a black box, and opened it deftly with a flick of his wrist. Inside it was a gold ring with a brilliant diamond-shaped ruby at its center.
“This is for you.” He whispered to her aloud, his voice gentle and loving as if they were the only two people in the room. “It belonged to my mother who loved me like no one else ever has. I have never given it to another. I hope that you will receive it as a physical reminder of my love for you.”
He held his breath as her fixed gaze stared at the token that meant so much to him.
She was touched; tears formed again in her eyes and fell on pale cheeks. She reached for it and took it from its felt bower, gazing into the depths of the stone.
Releasing Elena. Byron put away the box on the table and took the ring from her. He kissed it and took her hand, sliding it onto a slender finger.
She closed her hand over his and pulled him to her and they hugged again, tightly as if someone would try to part them. Finally Elena felt like she was home and she tried to tell him that with her feelings.
Byron sent her back the aching for her love that was inside of him. It would take them years to solve the mystery of what was between them, but for the moment, for the first time in Elena’s life, they would have the time.
“Well,” Mr. Baum broke the silence, “That mystery is solved and I believe we should leave the happy couple to celebrate with their friends. Miss Margaret?”
“No!” She cried, and she pushed her way past him and Edward to get to Byron who released Elena and turned to face his ex-lover.
“No what Margaret?” He hissed at her, stepping into her face, his charming demeanor vanishing and something darker sliding into place.
The monster had risen and he was having trouble controlling it; this woman had too many times thwarted the beast in his desires. She had hurt him time and time again and yet he had played the roll of the better man, not letting his passions get away with him, seeing her side of their arguments. Blaming himself for what had come between him, and his patience was at an end. He could feel his temper undone, his hand rising to strike, his fangs ready to descend…
Then the oddest thing happened to him.
From outside his mind came an invisible hand that held him back.
She wins if you do this. It is what she wants. Show nothing. We are together now and she cannot part us.
He stopped. He breathed, but he did not pack away the beast within himself, rather it calmed within the gentle auspices of Elena’s psychic touch. It was hers to command and Byron suddenly smiled.
“What do you have to say Margaret? What accusation can you make? Two young people want to be together. If you don’t think we should be it is you’re problem not mine. Isn’t that right Mr. Baum?”
The man nodded and came up behind her.
“Come Miss Stokes. No law has been broken here. You may call his Uncle and ask his intervention, but I suggest you leave well enough alone. It isn’t good for the soul to come between two people who love each other.”
He gently took Margaret’s arm but she wrenched it away from him, turning her full glare on all of them until she settled on Elena.
“Someday you will tire of this little girl, Byron, you’ll wish you’d have listened to me and stayed away from her. You’ll rot, Byron. Someday. And my children will have children and be more immortal than you will ever be.”
She turned on her heel and rushed from the room and from the house, slamming the door behind her. Mr. Baum’s eyes widened and he shared a look with Edward that spoke volumes on the state of mind of this unstable individual.
“I think I have a clear Idea of what’s going on now. I apologize for taking up your time and interrupting such a wonderful moment in your lives.” He nodded to the couple and retreated in the footsteps of Margaret, shown out by the wide-eyed Conrad.
Which left Elena, Byron, Edward and of course, Monsignor Howard.
“My dear I am so sorry that I questioned you.” He rose and headed for the door.
“Oh Father, don’t leave like this!” She called after him.
He stopped, his back bent with remorse and she made her way to him and embraced him.
“I know you were just trying to protect me, and I love you for it.” She pulled back and looked into the wizened eyes, “I have George, but I never want to loose what I have with you. You’re the only parent I’ve ever known and what kind of child would I be if I stopped loving you just because you loved me too much to let me make what you thought was a mistake?”
He smiled a sad smile back at her, his expression still a little teary.
“You’d think I’d be a better judge of people after all these years.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his eyes.
“But you were right.” She told him. “I was in love with Byron, just not the one you thought I was in love with. George and I belong together, but I couldn’t tell you everything. I’m so sorry about that.”
She felt a little guilty misleading him, but it was in all of their best interests. Maybe someday she could tell him the truth, but until she knew how, until she understood everything herself, the comforting lies were all she had to give, and she didn’t know if she could ever totally trust him again, after he had told everyone about Byron.
The old preacher looked over her head at Byron, his head tall and proud.
“Do right by her, Lad or it will be hell to pay.”
He wasn’t joking.
“I take that very seriously, Father.” Byron answered, the truth of his words burning in the icy fire of his eyes, “She is my life.”
They nodded in understanding and with an awkward parting hug the preacher turned to leave.
The three of them stood there as the door closed and they heard Conrad departing into the bowels of the house. There was a stunned silence, and it was as if the three of them couldn’t believe everything that had just happened.
Was it possible that they were to be left alone to lead their lives?
Elena turned to look at her companions.
Byron stood tall and proud, giving a smile that was somehow a little unsure. The doctor stood staring at the door behind them.
“Its over.” Elena whispered, her own profound sense of relief rushing over her. She found the nearest chair and sat in it, a little numbness clouding all of her senses.
“Is it?” The doctor asked Byron, “Do you think that Margaret will return?”
“There isn’t any way to know.” Byron shrugged. “I think that she’s been embarrassed, she’s been hurt. I wouldn’t put it past her to try something sometime, but I think with this attempt failing she will have to go home and pack. Her husband will enforce that. I don’t really think she’s capable of making trouble that is more… violent. Official channels are more her style. I doubt she’d risk herself for her children’s sake at least.”
“I hope so.” Elena spoke quietly. “I need the rest.”
She gave Byron a weak little smile.
“Isn’t’ it nearly dinnertime?” The doctor asked, “I’ll go see if Conrad is preparing something.”
He gave Byron a little wink and left the room.
“Alone at last!” Byron said, moving around the couch and kneeling down beside her. She reached out without thought and took him into her arms, sighing at the contact.
It was like being held in an electrical circuit. His body was full of energy and heat and she could feel it against her skin and it was exciting. There was also a comfort there that she could not explain. Like it was the place in the world she was supposed to be. In this, Byron agreed.
Holding Elena tightly against him made him believe that there were wonderful things left in this world instead of having to force himself to think it. Possibility, like a beautiful flower bloomed in his mind’s eye when he touched her, when he thought of a life together with her. It seemed silly, but somehow it was true and at that moment there was peace in his soul.
“I am so relieved, Elena.” He spoke softly in her ear. “I thought that perhaps this would be too much of a change for you. That perhaps you wouldn’t see the man within me is the same beneath the years. Many women would not have accepted it. I don’t know how to tell you what that means to me.”
There was a catch in his voice and she pulled back so she could look in his eyes. They were beautiful dark pools of blue with the black in the middle large in the relatively dark room. She caught her breath at the aching his beautiful features caused in her chest and she sighed and spoke:
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his ending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”
She smiled, “How is that for cliché?”
He took her mouth with his and decided that sometimes a cliché was a good thing.
It wasn’t lost on her that today it wouldn’t hurt to look a little nicer than usual. After all, Byron was supposed to return today and though she worried about Margaret as she’d fallen asleep last night, in the light of day it was easier to pass those thoughts off as silly. The woman had loved him, she could never hurt him, could she?
When she came down to eat finally, and found Edward waiting for her in the parlor.
“You look lovely with your hair up like that darling!” Edward enthused, his accent making the endearment sound like dah-lin.
She smiled back at him and turned to see herself in the mirror over the mantle. Her curls were piled on her head, except where they artfully tumbled down the side of her neck. The dress was cut straight down from her shoulders but it left them and a substantial part of her chest bear at the “v” shaped collar.
She couldn’t help but give him a little spin to admire her.
“Byron will loose the ability to speak when he sees you dear.”
She giggled, and covered her mouth, blushing. It was a terribly girlish sound, and she had been striving to be more of an adult. Perhaps that would let Byron stop feeling so awkward about their separation in ages. Apparent ages at least.
Edward didn’t notice anything amiss however. He was quite pleased to see the girl acting her age. It might mean that she was returning to her normal cheerfulness instead of the strange manic behavior he’d observed over the last few days.
They brunched on the brick porch informally; much to Elena’s relief, and since the weather was so pleasant, sat through the afternoon and read on that sunlit porch. It was a rare treat to Elena to get to be outside like this in the warm sun and cool air with just a sweater to warm her and not to have to worry that she was outside in the air too long. That if she wasn’t careful she would come down ill again. She knew that finally she was free of that constant fear and it was in this moment that she relinquished forever the idea of her dependency on Byron as bondage. It was the price she paid to live a life that she never would have been given and she couldn’t wait for Byron to return so she could tell him how much she appreciated it and tell him how much she loved him.
She smiled at the blue sky, at her companion on the lawn furniture with his eyeglasses glinting in the sun and listened to the sound of her city teeming around her and she was content.
So, it was to a scene of pleasant domesticity as the afternoon waned toward evening that an unexpected visitor was announced.
“Excuse me, Miss Smith, Doctor Wilson,” said the staid Conrad, bowing slightly at the waist, “You have visitors. A Father Howard a Mister Baum and Miss Margaret.”
The blood rushed through Elena’s veins at the sound of the other woman’s name and she stood quickly hate blossoming inside her, constricting her chest so that she had to fight to get air into them.. Edward also rose, seeing her distress and gestured for her to be still.
“Please show them into the parlor, Conrad, we will be with them in a moment.”
“Yes, Sir.” The tall man answered, and bowed as he turned to go back in the house.
“Elena.” Edward called her name, but all she could hear was the blood rushing in her viens.
“Elena!”
He took her by the arms and turned her to him. She stared at the doorway as if she expected Margaret to shove through it somehow.
“Elena!”
A little shake woke her but her rage blinded her.
“She’s in my house Edward. This is my house and Byron’s house and she dares to come here!”
She was going to be sick.
“Be calm Elena. I can see what they want and send them away…”
“You can’t do that without me!” She raged, ripping away from him suddenly and pacing across the little courtyard.
“I was at peace here, finally! Byron is coming home! And she’s come to ruin it I know she has and I hate her and she’s here with Howard and who knows what she’s told him and Edward, Byron could be in danger or he could be dead, and…”
“And nothing!” Edward hissed at her, “Get a hold of yourself Elena! We don’t have any idea what’s going on and you being hysterical doesn’t help anything!”
She stopped and tried to gather herself, slowing her breathing and trying to bring the chaos within her under control.
Was this what Byron’s beast was like? Some living thing within him that wanted to get out and just terrorize everything around him?
She shut it down a piece at a time and the doctor approached her carefully like a creature that might bolt at any moment, until he had his arms around her.
Elena still trembled with suppressing the emotions but she was still and quiet and worked through it enough that he thought she could go inside. Raising her eyes to meet his she spoke.
“I will not hide from her.”|
“Fair enough,” Edward answered, “but you must be careful and you mustn’t let your feelings control you.” He smiled suddenly. “I always tell Byron the very same thing.”
Elena wondered at the man’s ability to find humor in any situation, but now was not the time. She turned on her heel and into the house, past the dining room and the kitchen and through the hallway towards the parlor, the doctor at her back to face her enemy.
Margaret stood by the mantle. The candles that burned there on the sconces causing blue streaks in her midnight hair, were second only to the burning of her bright pale face, eyes flashing with live emotions.
Elena suddenly understood what Byron had seen in the woman. She was beautiful and almost seemed more real than the world around her for her vibrancy. There was nothing left of the cold cruel woman who had seemed determined to make her life unpleasant. It was like the fire of her own hatred had burned that woman up and out of the ashes stood a dangerous vibrant new phoenix full of confidence and with nothing to loose. It stopped Elena short and she realized that she must resist the urge to do battle and instead observe and react in her own time. The anger that had touched her was doused as if by a cold winter shower and she slid to a stop just inside the doorway, the doctor brought up short behind her.
“Welcome to the Murphy home.” Elena bowed her head, taking the moment to look at her other guests.
Howard had been sitting on the couch and stood, his brows gathered in that worried way she was so familiar with. Another man who she supposed was Mister Baum stood beside him. He was a stout man in his fifties with kind grey blue eyes and a receding hairline. He took a step towards Elena and inclined his head.
“I’m sorry to bother you Miss Smith,” he spoke with a quiet Bostonian brogue and stepped forward to greet her. “I’m Manny Baum from Social Services.”
A genuine smile graced Elena’s features as she took his hand and they shared a friendly handshake. She immediately liked him and wondered what kind of tale Margaret could have spun to get both this gentleman and the kind priest to come here.
“This is Dr. Wilson,” she introduced, stepping aside so the two men could shake hands. “What can I do for you this evening, Mr. Baum?
“Margaret Stokes here has made a report to our department that I have to investigate.” He told them, turning back to his chair and waiting for them to seat themselves.
Ignoring Margaret’s stare, she took her favorite seat on the settee next to the fireplace, gesturing for Edward to sit with her.
“What is this report regarding?” She questioned politely, squashing her rage and desire to strike out at the offensive woman.
“It a matter that requires delicate handling,” the man began but he was interrupted by Margaret.
“Its about this Mister Howard practically selling you as a whore to Mr. Murphy!” She gestured at the sweet old gentleman with disdain, her voice icy and yet full of menace as she spoke with deliberate annunciation.
“That is quite an accusation.” Edward answered calmly before Elena had a chance to speak, “fairly ridiculous, I might say as Monsignor Howard is a respected member of the clergy and Mr. Byron a businessman and humanitarian of some renown...”
“I agree entirely.” Mr. Baum replied, watching the reactions of everyone in the room. “However, it is serious enough a claim that I had to investigate, and since there was some, irregularity even in the Monsignor’s mind about the fostering of Miss Smith, I decided that a visit was necessary. Miss Smith is still in the care of the state, and we have to protect he best interests. Is Mister. Murphy himself home?”
“He isn’t.” Elena answered before the doctor could pre-empt her, but she was shaking with suppressed rage. “He had to travel out of town for business.”
“How convenient for him.” Margaret sneered.
Elena stood to face her but the small social worker got between the two women.
“Mrs. Stokes, if you cannot refrain from colorful comment I’ll have to ask you to leave.” he warned.
She huffed in response.
“Now then Miss Smith, please sit back down and tell me how you came to live with Mr. Murphy.”
She did as she was told and tried to calm herself enough to speak. She didn’t know what she would do if they decided to take her away from Byron. Would he be able to visit her in the night, or would he be kept from her and Margaret finally succeed in her death? That would not happen, it couldn’t be allowed and so it was with a measure of confidence that she began.
“I was always a sickly child, Mr. Baum, and I was left at the orphanage by my young mother at three. Precocious in my studies perhaps because I spent so much of my time studying for lack of being able to play, as a teenager I started teaching the other children. It was because I was a teacher that I came to be introduced to Mr. Murphy during his annual visit to the orphanage and he came to know of my plight.”
Elena stood and walked around the little couch so she could pace in front of the stairs.
“I was dying, you see.” She spoke in a hushed voice, and every ear strived to listen to her, even the seething Margaret.
“Mr. Murphy thought that perhaps if I had special care that I might be saved, and since his best friend, Doctor Wilson here, would be available to care for me if I was at his home, he offered to take me in.” She turned to look into the bright eyes of the kind man, “There was never anything inappropriate about it. Mr. Murphy and I became friends.”
“But the Monsignor claims that it was more than that. At least for you.” The man said, leading her on to more detail.
But betrayal had shot through her at the utterance.
“How could you tell him that?” Elena turned to the Priest, wounded tears clearly in her eyes. “I told you that in confidence and you used it against me? Told a third party?”
Howard was ashen and looked down at the floor unable to face her.
“If you are being abused, Elena, I have to report it. I regret that it means I had to break the confidence between us. I hope you can forgive me.”
It was if Elena’s whole world had suddenly changed again. Shifted into unreality for the umpteenth time in the last six months. Tears fell and she mourned for the girl she had been who was now lost.
“The issue of confidences aside,” the social worker continued, “Why is it that you left school? I called Brooklyn School for Women and they say that you were taken to hospital; the hospital says they have no records of your visit, that there was a mysterious fire in their records department sometime yesterday and that the records of your visit were lost. If you were sick enough to be in the hospital a week ago at the very latest, why are you walking around now?
The doctor answered.
“Elena has weak lungs and has a tendency to contract pneumonia. The infection does respond well, thankfully, to an experimental drug that a friend of mine at oxford has developed.”
“So she needs the medicine, alright, you would have to administer it to her were she to be ill, but she is fine now. Why hasn’t she returned to school, or to Howard who asked her to come home?”
The reasonable question hovered in the air for a long moment. Then a voice from the hall answered.
“Because she’s staying for me.”
Elena’s heartbeat quickened at the sound of Byron’s voice but it was not her lover that entered the waiting room.
A young man of perhaps eighteen strode confidently into the room, his black riding boots clicking authoritatively on the wooden planks of the floor. He had Byron’s flashing blue eyes and high cheekbones but the face that had been handsome in age was in youth, pretty like a woman’s. His long lashes and slightly tussled midnight hair were startling against a creamy complexion that blushed with the pink health of youth. His clothing was tight riding pants and a smart tailed jacket to match, and he gave off the air of an athlete who had just come in from the weather.
Breathless is not a term to be used lightly when one is struck by beauty, but this was Elena’s reaction to him as he handed his riding crop to Conrad who had followed him into the room and then smiled holding out his hand to the waiting Mr. Baum.
“Pleasure to meet you, Sir.” He snapped his heels together like an officer in the army and smiled winsomely at the man. “I’m glad I arrived in time to speak with you.”
Baum responded immediately to the charm Byron emanated.
“And you are?” The man asked.
“George Byron Murphy at your service.” He inclined his head politely, “Byron Murphy is my Uncle.”
Margaret made a noise that resembled a growl and the Doctor gave a chuckle at the name.
“Well met, Mr. Murphy.” Baum responded, “Would you care to explain?”
“Ah. Of course.” The young man replied, flashing another of those sideways smiles toward Elena, who had to grab the back of the couch for support. Knowing that Byron could change his age and seeing such a startling example of it were two totally different things and her body was trying to betray her by melting into a little puddle of girl right there on the floor of the parlor.
Byron had been reaching out towards her to feel her reaction and was gratified, nearly giddy with his pleasure at it. But he had serious business to effect here before he allowed the drunken sensation of Elena’s admiration to run away with him.
“You see,” he explained, pacing towards his beloved, “I asked Elena to keep our relationship a secret from my Uncle. He doesn’t approve of youths as young as ourselves being together.”
He came around the couch and slipped his arm around his nearly feint lover, and the close contact with the firm young body beneath the clothing did nothing to make paying attention to his words any easier. She took a deep breath, and smelled the leather and man that was holding her against him and a shiver ran the length of her body.
“Uncle Byron, thinks that we don’t know what we want at so young an age, but I told him that we have to be together and Elena feels the same way. Don’t you, Beloved?”
He expected her to speak?
She looked up into his eyes and his presence filled her up from inside, where she had felt like falling it was as if all her energy and strength had suddenly reappeared and she stood straight and tall and wrapped her arms about him tightly.
How did you do that? She questioned him.
Magic, he answered coyly.
She laughed, and suddenly remembering the false name he’d given she laughed even more, sure that now he was here nothing would separate them again.
“Of course I want to be with you, George!”.
He smiled back and it was filled with all of the fondness and love he had for her and he knew that this had been the right decision for both of them.
Searching in his pocket he pulled out a black box, and opened it deftly with a flick of his wrist. Inside it was a gold ring with a brilliant diamond-shaped ruby at its center.
“This is for you.” He whispered to her aloud, his voice gentle and loving as if they were the only two people in the room. “It belonged to my mother who loved me like no one else ever has. I have never given it to another. I hope that you will receive it as a physical reminder of my love for you.”
He held his breath as her fixed gaze stared at the token that meant so much to him.
She was touched; tears formed again in her eyes and fell on pale cheeks. She reached for it and took it from its felt bower, gazing into the depths of the stone.
Releasing Elena. Byron put away the box on the table and took the ring from her. He kissed it and took her hand, sliding it onto a slender finger.
She closed her hand over his and pulled him to her and they hugged again, tightly as if someone would try to part them. Finally Elena felt like she was home and she tried to tell him that with her feelings.
Byron sent her back the aching for her love that was inside of him. It would take them years to solve the mystery of what was between them, but for the moment, for the first time in Elena’s life, they would have the time.
“Well,” Mr. Baum broke the silence, “That mystery is solved and I believe we should leave the happy couple to celebrate with their friends. Miss Margaret?”
“No!” She cried, and she pushed her way past him and Edward to get to Byron who released Elena and turned to face his ex-lover.
“No what Margaret?” He hissed at her, stepping into her face, his charming demeanor vanishing and something darker sliding into place.
The monster had risen and he was having trouble controlling it; this woman had too many times thwarted the beast in his desires. She had hurt him time and time again and yet he had played the roll of the better man, not letting his passions get away with him, seeing her side of their arguments. Blaming himself for what had come between him, and his patience was at an end. He could feel his temper undone, his hand rising to strike, his fangs ready to descend…
Then the oddest thing happened to him.
From outside his mind came an invisible hand that held him back.
She wins if you do this. It is what she wants. Show nothing. We are together now and she cannot part us.
He stopped. He breathed, but he did not pack away the beast within himself, rather it calmed within the gentle auspices of Elena’s psychic touch. It was hers to command and Byron suddenly smiled.
“What do you have to say Margaret? What accusation can you make? Two young people want to be together. If you don’t think we should be it is you’re problem not mine. Isn’t that right Mr. Baum?”
The man nodded and came up behind her.
“Come Miss Stokes. No law has been broken here. You may call his Uncle and ask his intervention, but I suggest you leave well enough alone. It isn’t good for the soul to come between two people who love each other.”
He gently took Margaret’s arm but she wrenched it away from him, turning her full glare on all of them until she settled on Elena.
“Someday you will tire of this little girl, Byron, you’ll wish you’d have listened to me and stayed away from her. You’ll rot, Byron. Someday. And my children will have children and be more immortal than you will ever be.”
She turned on her heel and rushed from the room and from the house, slamming the door behind her. Mr. Baum’s eyes widened and he shared a look with Edward that spoke volumes on the state of mind of this unstable individual.
“I think I have a clear Idea of what’s going on now. I apologize for taking up your time and interrupting such a wonderful moment in your lives.” He nodded to the couple and retreated in the footsteps of Margaret, shown out by the wide-eyed Conrad.
Which left Elena, Byron, Edward and of course, Monsignor Howard.
“My dear I am so sorry that I questioned you.” He rose and headed for the door.
“Oh Father, don’t leave like this!” She called after him.
He stopped, his back bent with remorse and she made her way to him and embraced him.
“I know you were just trying to protect me, and I love you for it.” She pulled back and looked into the wizened eyes, “I have George, but I never want to loose what I have with you. You’re the only parent I’ve ever known and what kind of child would I be if I stopped loving you just because you loved me too much to let me make what you thought was a mistake?”
He smiled a sad smile back at her, his expression still a little teary.
“You’d think I’d be a better judge of people after all these years.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his eyes.
“But you were right.” She told him. “I was in love with Byron, just not the one you thought I was in love with. George and I belong together, but I couldn’t tell you everything. I’m so sorry about that.”
She felt a little guilty misleading him, but it was in all of their best interests. Maybe someday she could tell him the truth, but until she knew how, until she understood everything herself, the comforting lies were all she had to give, and she didn’t know if she could ever totally trust him again, after he had told everyone about Byron.
The old preacher looked over her head at Byron, his head tall and proud.
“Do right by her, Lad or it will be hell to pay.”
He wasn’t joking.
“I take that very seriously, Father.” Byron answered, the truth of his words burning in the icy fire of his eyes, “She is my life.”
They nodded in understanding and with an awkward parting hug the preacher turned to leave.
The three of them stood there as the door closed and they heard Conrad departing into the bowels of the house. There was a stunned silence, and it was as if the three of them couldn’t believe everything that had just happened.
Was it possible that they were to be left alone to lead their lives?
Elena turned to look at her companions.
Byron stood tall and proud, giving a smile that was somehow a little unsure. The doctor stood staring at the door behind them.
“Its over.” Elena whispered, her own profound sense of relief rushing over her. She found the nearest chair and sat in it, a little numbness clouding all of her senses.
“Is it?” The doctor asked Byron, “Do you think that Margaret will return?”
“There isn’t any way to know.” Byron shrugged. “I think that she’s been embarrassed, she’s been hurt. I wouldn’t put it past her to try something sometime, but I think with this attempt failing she will have to go home and pack. Her husband will enforce that. I don’t really think she’s capable of making trouble that is more… violent. Official channels are more her style. I doubt she’d risk herself for her children’s sake at least.”
“I hope so.” Elena spoke quietly. “I need the rest.”
She gave Byron a weak little smile.
“Isn’t’ it nearly dinnertime?” The doctor asked, “I’ll go see if Conrad is preparing something.”
He gave Byron a little wink and left the room.
“Alone at last!” Byron said, moving around the couch and kneeling down beside her. She reached out without thought and took him into her arms, sighing at the contact.
It was like being held in an electrical circuit. His body was full of energy and heat and she could feel it against her skin and it was exciting. There was also a comfort there that she could not explain. Like it was the place in the world she was supposed to be. In this, Byron agreed.
Holding Elena tightly against him made him believe that there were wonderful things left in this world instead of having to force himself to think it. Possibility, like a beautiful flower bloomed in his mind’s eye when he touched her, when he thought of a life together with her. It seemed silly, but somehow it was true and at that moment there was peace in his soul.
“I am so relieved, Elena.” He spoke softly in her ear. “I thought that perhaps this would be too much of a change for you. That perhaps you wouldn’t see the man within me is the same beneath the years. Many women would not have accepted it. I don’t know how to tell you what that means to me.”
There was a catch in his voice and she pulled back so she could look in his eyes. They were beautiful dark pools of blue with the black in the middle large in the relatively dark room. She caught her breath at the aching his beautiful features caused in her chest and she sighed and spoke:
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his ending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”
She smiled, “How is that for cliché?”
He took her mouth with his and decided that sometimes a cliché was a good thing.