“The owner of the estate?” Mr. Murray said with genuine surprise, his eyebrows raising briefly as he recognized his patron’s name. “Now that I know who you are, I would like to extend my gratitude for letting me to stay while I study the light here.” He looked from Edith to out across water that stretched out in a lazy circle before them. “The view here is spectacular.” He let out a slow, appreciative sigh. Its contentment resonated deep with Edith’s bones. “And this air! This air is so refreshing after living in London. It’s so clean, not choked with the smell of refuse, smoke, and pollution. It reminds me of my cousin’s farm. I do have to admit, though, that the view here is far more spectacular than it is there.”
“This is one of my favorite views.” She gazed at the lake briefly before stealing a glance towards his easel. “I find it so inspiration. Say, is this what you’re working on?”
Edward gave her a single nod. “It is. The view captivated me when we arrived this morning. I haven’t been to erase it from my mind. So much so that I couldn’t wait to get out here to paint it.”
“May I?” Edith motioned her head towards the easel and medium-sized canvas.
“Please.” Edward happily moved aside to allow her to look at what he’d spent the morning working on. “I’d love to know your opinion.”
Edith took in the landscape with a soft gasp. What she saw made her eyes go dewy with sentimentality.
“Mr. Murray, this is…” she began but her words momentarily failed her. “Magnificent.” She didn’t hesitate to pay him the compliment that she felt he was owed. “Look at how you’ve captured the silvery sheen of the water. And how you’ve matched the emerald of that mallard’s head. And what is that by the shore? It’s a gray goose! And there it is at the water’s edge! Mr. Murray, you have quite an eye for detail. Your work is simply…superb,” Edith gushed, amazed at the intricacy that Edward had so effortlessly captured.
“Thank you, Mrs. Blackwell,” Edward answered graciously, flashing her a hint of a captivating, elegant smile. The kind of smile belonging to a man of means.
“It’s Miss, not Mrs.,” she corrected his assumption. “I’m not married.”
“Then thank you again, Miss Blackwell. Would you mind staying with me while I paint a bit more? I’d like to know more about the area and who better to ask than one of its residents?” he asked sweetly. Edith’s cheeks warmed as she nodded yes.
“I’d love to,” she said and remained at his side until the noon sun was well over their heads.
************
Edith and Edward spent the remainder of the day together. After Edward grew tired of painting, Edith helped carry his easel and supplies to the front of the house, where his articles stayed until they retrieved them later. From there, Edith took him on a tour of the back garden.
“Autumn just started but everything is still so colorful!” he remarked, seeing the landscape with his painter’s eye.
“We’ve had a warm season, this year. All the flowers and blooms have lasted far longer than they normally do,” Edith explained. “And Mr. Brown, our groundskeeper, and Mr. Tungnel, the botanist in residence, have done wonders. They’re out here day and night picking, pruning, planting, and weeding. I often watch them from the window in my writing room. It’s just up there.” She pointed to the window directly above the kitchen. “It has the most splendid view of the pond, as well.”
“You’re a writer?” Edward said with surprise.
“Yes, I am a writer. A published author actually, with two novels under my belt,” she said eagerly, feeling a keen sense of pride for the first time since her first novel went to print.
“I will have to read your work,” Edward met her eye and held it in his gaze. “Are you a fiction writer or do you prefer another genre? What inspires you to write?” he asked, genuinely interested in what made her tick.
“General fiction is the genre I prefer. I write novels, you see. Salacious novels with a hint of mystery, danger, and a splash of ill-fated romance. When I first started writing, the seasons were the biggest influence upon my writing. I set the beginnings in the autumn when the world is riotous with color.” Edith pointed out the individual golds, reds, oranges, browns, and what green remained. “Now that I think about it, I guess they still are.”
“You have a painter’s eye,” Edward complimented her, increasingly intrigued by the woman who saw the world through the same lens that he did. “I don’t know many people who see color as you do.”
“I don’t know about that, but I love this time of year. Most people think it’s morbid to find such beauty in death,” she said and for the first time, didn’t attempt to admonish herself or hide her true feelings. Something about Edward’s presence told her that she could be open and honest with him. That her macabre interests wouldn’t scare him away. Instead, they’d be just another reason why he would stay.
“I never thought of it that way,” Edward said as he contemplated Edith’s words. “Once I’m finished with the lake, I’m going to paint the leaves back here,” he declared. “A close up of your window, surrounded in the cornucopia of color. I’ll call it, A Beautiful Death.”
Edith gazed openly, spellbound that this man understood her on a level that no one had before. Not even Aunt Amelia, who’d known her niece inside and out, hadn’t come close to understanding the complexity of her soul as Edward had. With a half-shy smile, Edith continued, eyes locked on his until she was certain that she’d burst with joy.
Awkwardly, they looked away in unison, each taking in the quiet world around them. Twilight was nearing, the birdsong was quieting, and the wind picked up and blew in from the chilly North. Taking her timepiece from her pocket, Edith opened it slowly and gazed at the watch face. A thrill shot through to her feet as she realized that several hours had passed in what felt like minutes.
“Perhaps we should go in?” Edith said, sensing that the night would be cool. “Dinner is always at eight and Addie abhors lateness, although she’s often the last one in the room.”
“Addie?” Edward peered questioningly, visibly unfamiliar with her companions’ name.
“The woman that greeted you when you arrived.”
“Oh,” Edward’s smiling mouth went flat into a flat, severe line. “Her.” Edward added apathetically as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“Is something wrong? Did she do something to upset you?” Edith inquired sincerely, suddenly concerned about any impropriety.
“No,” Edward sighed. “She was very friendly—far too clingy and needy—but friendly,” he said. “I am certain she’s just an over eager sort of young woman but, if I am honest, I don’t trust her,” he admitted. “When I met her in London, something about her didn’t sit right with me. It’s almost as if she’s hiding something, but what, I don’t know.”
“Addie has had a very rough life,” Edith immediately defended her friend. “That’s probably what you sense. Sometimes she acts out because of what she’s been through.”
“Elspeth has had a rough life,” Edward countered. “Her father blew her mother’s brains out and then turned the gun on himself directly in front of her, but she doesn’t act like that. I don’t want to alarm you, but you should watch your back where your friend is concerned,” he warned, putting what had been bothering him into words. “I don’t trust her. I know that she’s your friend, but my gut tells me that she isn’t to be trusted, and it’s never wrong,” he paused. “There’s a sinister undertone lurking under that sweet-faced façade, but I don’t want to get into a row, Edith,” he sighed with resignation. “I’ve had such a lovely afternoon and I don’t want to spoil it by talking anymore about Addie. What I’d really like is to know more about you.” He stepped towards her. Edith’s heartbeat thundered in her ears as he drew close to her. Close enough so that she could see the light radiating in his whisky-colored eyes.
“I’d like to know more about you, too,” Edith replied.
Leaving any further mention of Addie behind, th
ey continued the back-garden tour, stopping briefly at Edith’s pond, before making their way inside to ready themselves for dinner.
************
By evening, Edith was completely spellbound by Edward’s easy-going, charming, and intelligent nature. At dinner, they sat side-by-side. Originally, Edward discovered that he was placed at Addie’s side while Edith had been unceremoniously evicted from the head of her own table, placed towards the end next to a boring clergyman filled with fanciful ideas about God.
Unbeknownst to Edith, Edward switched the name cards, placing the clergyman next to Addie and himself next to Edith. During dinner, neither noticed the daggers Addie shot towards them or heard any conversation other than what they shared. In that moment, they were the only two people in the world. Later, after dinner was over, Edward excused himself to share a cigar with the rest of the gentleman. Edith was tempted to follow him, but smoke irritated her susceptible lungs and cemented her decision to adjourn with the ladies.
An hour later, the men rejoined the women for a small concert that the few resident musicians had graciously offered to perform.
“How I love music! Don’t you agree, Edith, dear?” Elspeth exclaimed as she and Edith met at the door and sat together on the rose and gold damask couch.
“I love it. A few years ago, Mrs. Sargent ordered a gramophone for my birthday. I like to listen to it at night while looking out the window and enjoying a cup of tea. I find that it settles me and helps me asleep, especially when I’m upset.”
“I listen to it to forget about…things, as well,” Elspeth chimed. “Which composers do you prefer?” Elspeth asked again in attempt to get to know her friend better.
“I adore Puccini and Wagner. A few months ago, I acquired a recording of Thais by Jules Massenet. The entire score is magnificent, especially Meditation. Are you familiar with it?” Elspeth nodded that she was. “Then you understand why it’s so enthralling. The discover that a courtesan’s heart is pure while the lustful monk trying to convert her is corrupt is simply divine!” Edith continued to speak animatedly until the musician’s signaled that the concert was about to begin.
“Miss Edith!” Edward suddenly appeared before them just as the musicians were picking up their instruments. “May I sit beside you?” Edith beamed up at Edward. He gazed down at her, malted spirits glistening in his eyes. With a simple sweep of her hand, Edith offered him the empty seat to her left and tried not to grin as he claimed it.
“Elspeth,” Edward leaned forward and acknowledged the other woman’s presence while extending a welcoming hand towards her. “It’s nice to see you, especially after the fire. I take it that things didn’t go well with Jonathan’s father?”
“No. The entire affair was dreadful, but alas, we found something better. I’m glad that you decided to take Jonathan’s advice.” She accepted his handshake and promptly let him go. “You have to admit that Blackwell Farm is a far cry from that horrid London flat.”
“I’m glad that I took his advice, as well.” Edward stole a glance at Edith who listened attentively. “It exceeds all expectations. In every possible way,” he added with a bold glance towards Edith that raised Elspeth’s eyebrows. Tenderly, Elspeth nudged Edith as she shot her friend a knowing look.
“I hope that you all feel welcome here,” Edith said, ignoring Elspeth, suddenly self-conscious now that she was sandwiched between them.
“Thank you, Edith.” Edward flashed her an easy, gentle smile as he settled back into the couch, all-too aware that his thigh rested against Edith’s. “Your home is so warm and inviting. I haven’t experienced it’s like since my grandmother was still alive.”
“That is very kind of you, Mr. Murray,” Edith thanked him, flattered by the comparison. Her next words went unspoken as the musicians began.
“He’s a good man, my dear,” Elspeth leaned in and whispered into Edith’s ear as the first strains of Chopin’s Minute Waltz filled the room. “Jonathan and I know him from London. There are many women who’ve been chasing after him, but none have turned his head like you have. I watched you both at dinner. He hung on every word you said!” Elspeth gave her a second nudge and followed it with a wink. Nearly overcome, Edith turned her attention back to the ensemble, sporting a grin that made her cheeks ache. The thrill that surged through her stole her breath and left her body buzzing with electricity. As she replayed their conversations from the garden and dinner over in her mind, she couldn’t help but tune out the music, the whispered chatter of the other residents, and the occasional disgusted, jealous sigh that sounded at her back.
For the next hour, the company listened raptly as their fellow residents played through a collection of classical pieces written by Bach and Chopin.
“For our final selection of the evening, we’d like to perform a piece that is near and dear to our patron’s heart. Mrs. Sargent was kind enough to provide us with the details.” The only female in the quartet, a young, red-headed pianist with long, twisting tendrils of hair and brilliant blue eyes, got to her feet and flashed a smile towards Edith before setting back down.
“Thank you! It is too much, you didn’t have to…” Addie squealed as she jumped to her feet, forcing the pianist to abruptly stop. Edith watched the young redhead’s eyes follow a trail over her shoulder.
“I’m so very sorry for the confusion, Miss Grey,” the cellist, a tall, lanky man with mouse-brown hair apologized as he clarified the confusion. “This final song is for Miss Blackwell, our gracious patron. We’d like to thank her for her generosity in opening up her home and giving art and science the space it needs to blossom. Without your patronage, my dear mademoiselle,” he said and turned back to Edith. “Each and every one would not be as fortunate as we are now.” Graciously, he ended his dedication with a bow.
Edith didn’t glance back towards Addie but felt the resentment radiating off her like heat from a blazing fire. Suddenly, Edith was tight with anxiety. Her brow was beaded with sweat and her heart thundered against her ribs. The stress of Addie’s jealousy was causing her anxiety to spike and Edith feared that it would overtake her. Elspeth, sensing Edith’s sudden discomfort, took hold of Edith’s right hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. As soon as Elspeth let go, Edward claimed the left and repeated the action but refused to break their connection.
Together, they sat hand in hand as the ensemble played Meditation. Edith relaxed as she focused on the music rather than the envious anger that spilled off of Addie like a tidal wave.
Edith drowned in the fantasy of Thais, submerging herself in the confliction, question, and dedication of Massenet’s masterpiece. She imagined herself as the Greek courtesan, faced with a lustful monk who had entered her chambers unaware of her steadfast faith and that she hid nothing from the Almighty. All the while, she was keenly aware of Edwards’ hand in hers. The warmth was soothing and calmed her erratic, inconsistent nerves. Her eyes fell closed as the song played out. When the last strains died in the air, she opened them only to find Edward boldly staring at her.
“Edith,” he managed to say but the words that were to follow died upon his tongue. “I…”
“I know, Edward,” she replied, knowing what he wanted to say without another word spoken. “I know.”
The gathered group cheered wildly and congratulated the quartet on their magnificent rendition as Edith and Edward stared, lost in the moment, neither one wanting to break the spell they’d fallen under. Minutes later, all the residents congregated in the center of the small room, filled with questions on how a quartet managed to perform a song that was intended to be played by a band of many. While they discussed the mechanics, theories, themes, and the ancient history and theology that inspired the pieces played, Edith and Edward snuck out to the back garden, stopping only when they reached the pond.
The full moon shone brightly overhead, illuminating the landscape, rendering the few lamps scattered about unnecessary. The cold wind that hinted before had stopped, leaving the landscape comfortable and in
viting.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” Edith said only after the silence became awkward and she could no longer bear the tension.
“It is, but we didn’t come out here to discuss the moonlight or how it reflects upon the water,” Edward said directly as he drew Edith close to him. Edith gasped as their bodies came together, parted only by the clothing they wore. “You and I barely know each other. We only met this morning, but Edith…” He grabbed her hand and tenderly pressed the softness of her palm to his warm lips. “My beautiful Edith.” He followed the kiss with a gentle caress along the ridge of her cheek. “I don’t how this happened or why, but I need to tell you something. I’m falling in love with you.”
“I’m falling in love with you, too,” Edith admitted as she accepted both the kiss and caress willingly. As an errant wind blew against them, an uncharacteristic boldness possessed her. Easily, Edith slipped her arms around his waist and kissed him passionately, as if it were the most natural thing to do. Edward’s arms enveloped her, capturing her in an unbreakable embrace. They remained connected spirit and soul for several sweet-laced seconds before Edward drew back.
“My beautiful, darling, Edith.” He caressed her cheek once more and rested his forehead against hers. “If you had asked me this morning if I believed that my life could change in a matter of hours, I would have said no.” He exhaled breathlessly, caught up in the rapture they shared.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” Edith confessed, eyes wide with wonder. It startled and thrilled her to be close to him as if they were two halves of a whole. In all her years, Edith had never felt as if she could be completely open and honest with anyone, save perhaps Mrs. Sargent. Even then, there were things that she had withheld from all human ears. Only the water knew the full truth of what dwelt in her heart. Now, there was another that would willingly and gladly help carry her burdens and safeguard the things that she didn’t want to see the light of day.
The Secrets of Water Page 17
