Both Lizzie and Sebastian exhaled in unison.
“I can’t believe Dr. Trelawney was here!” Lizzie whispered, even though she knew they were safe now that both Dr. Trelawney and Monica Rylance were gone.
“I’d bet she’s looking to capitalize on all that’s happened. You heard Monica. She said that Dr. Trelawney is broke.”
“And looking to capitalize on the lost manuscript. Not to mention that she’s determined to undermine us at every turn. I’m just glad that that Monica chick is too stuck on herself to eavesdrop properly,” Lizzie admitted. “But that bit about the desk has got me thinking. She heard me say that it was like Grandmother’s desk. The one that belonged to my mother…” Lizzie recalled the original motive behind their late-night, storm-soaked journey. Suddenly, she gasped. An idea struck her, raising the hairs on her arms once again with nervous excitement. “I think I know how to access the secret compartment.”
Fueled by a rush of adrenaline, Lizzie crept out of the bedroom and tip-toed across the lengthy, blood-red runner until she reached Edith’s sanctuary. “Would you shine the light just here?” She walked to the front of the desk and dropped to her knees. Sebastian did as she asked and watched quietly as Lizzie prodded at the carved wooden roses. Two seconds later, a loud snap met his ears, followed by Lizzie’s muffled whoop of joy.
“I knew it!” Lizzie squealed as a wooden panel popped out from behind the carved roses. “Grandma’s has one just like it, but it’s been stuck for years, ever since Grandmother shipped it over after my parents died. It’s the only thing she kept from our house in London, besides my stuffed animals,” Lizzie explained as she got her to her feet and flipped on her own flashlight. Training the beam on the exposed, formerly hidden drawer, Lizzie sucked in an awed breath as flecks of dust rose up into the flashlight’s beam. Sweeping the light inside, it was easy to see that the drawer hadn’t been opened in decades. “I bet you ten bucks that Edith was the last person in here,” Lizzie declared with a certainty that left her skin sizzling. Moving the beam across the bottom of the drawer, it appeared empty at first until the corner of a sheet of paper caught her eye.
“What’s that?” Sebastian asked as he stepped closer to see better. Lizzie leaned forward and peered closely. She produced a short, defeated sigh once she realized that it didn’t look important.
“It looks like a note of some kind.” Lizzie tenderly reached in and grasped the crisp corner. That all changed as soon as the letter reflected in the torch light. “This looks old, Sebastian.” Lizzie’s body tingled with anticipation.
“It looks like an old letter,” Sebastian indirectly aimed the flashlight to where they could both see the script clearly, but the light wouldn’t damage the delicate piece of vellum.
“It’s Edith’s letterhead but that’s not her writing,” Lizzie said, pointing out several oddities in the script, examining its quality before allowing herself to read it.
“Oh my God,” Lizzie and Sebastian said together as they read the handwritten message.
“Holy shit!” Sebastian exclaimed, startling Lizzie and causing her to nearly drop the paper.
“I can’t believe what I just read,” Lizzie said as she tried to grasp what was written before them.
“Lizzie, do you know what this means? Edward Martin Murray didn’t die in a random accident. He was murdered.”
“And Edith’s financial advisor was the culprit.”
“Who is this Addie woman that wrote this letter? It says here that the advisor and this Addie person were plotting to send Edith to Bedlam in order to steal her money.”
Lizzie fell silent as she searched her memory for someone by that name. “I’m positive it’s Adelide Grey. She was mentioned a few times in Edith’s correspondence to Randall Wagner. Her name is also on several bills of sale for furniture and other furnishings. She must have stayed here when the house was operating as an artist’s colony and developed a relationship with Wagner.”
“Or maybe it was more than that. What if she wanted something else, say like Edith’s money or even Edward Murray. And what if she was devious enough to get the advisor involved in her sick ploy? From the looks of this, she seems like someone that Edith wanted to erase from history.”
“Maybe so. I think we should give this to the museum,” Lizzie said. “This is important, not just to Edith’s history, but for Murray’s too. This needs to be restored and catalogued with the rest of contents taken from the house.”
“Perhaps there’s something amongst the other items that could tell us why Edith would hide one of her letters in her desk.”
A flash of lightning illuminated the room for the umpteenth time. Several heartbeats later, a pounding boom of thunder shook the house once again.
“I think we should call it a night,” Sebastian announced reluctantly, knowing that it would be hard to get Lizzie to leave this house, especially since she had free reign to explore.
“I think we should, too.” Lizzie replied, surprising him with her willingness to go. “But how are we going to get the letter to the Museum? I don’t want to leave it out for Trelawney to find when she returns, and I don’t want to put it back in the desk.”
“I thought of that,” Sebastian smiled and produced a clear sheet protector from his coat pocket. “I brought several, actually. Just in case we found something that couldn’t risk getting wet.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a genius?” Lizzie wanted to kiss him for his foresight but kept herself in check.
“Not since this morning when I fixed Nana’s toaster.” Sebastian flashed a cheeky smile. Holding the protective sheet, Sebastian opened it so that Lizzie could slip the precious document inside. For added measure, she slipped the first sheet into a second the opposite way to safeguard against any damage.
“I think we should be going,” Sebastian added as a third, ear-piercing clap of thunder shuddered through the floorboards. “I’m pretty sure that if it keeps raining, the roads will flood, and we’ll be stranded.”
“I agree. I’d kill for a hot cup of tea, some opera, and my warm, comfy bed. Let’s go before the weather gets worse.”
Lizzie and Sebastian made their way out of Blackwell Farm, tracing the same path they took coming in. Once outside, they made sure the door was locked tight before creeping through the back garden and down the slope to the car park at the base of the hill.
Reaching the car, Sebastian stopped Lizzie suddenly. “What is that?” He pointed in the distance. Lizzie cast a glance over her shoulder and spotted a pinpoint of light—the muted beam of a flashlight—headed towards them. “Quick! Get in the car!” Sebastian ordered and Lizzie immediately obeyed.
Lizzie shut the car door soundlessly and turned to Sebastian. Her pulse raced as nervousness threatened to crush her insides. Without saying anything, Sebastian removed her jacket, pulled her ponytail free from its tie, and with a glance over her shoulder, captured her mouth like a man possessed.
For several moments, Lizzie sat still, too scared to move while Sebastian's lips teased hers. His tongue parted her lips enough for it to dart in and out. He broke away momentarily and Lizzie gazed at him with a mixture of surprise and desire.
“You better start kissing me back or we’re in big trouble,” he warned before pulling her towards him, his body molding itself to hers. Unable to resist temptation, Lizzie surrendered completely.
Sebastian deepened his kiss, making Lizzie shiver with ecstatic delight. His hands explored the planes of her body, caressing and stroking in a way that it stole the very breath from her lungs. Lizzie kissed him back, all the pent-up desire that she had kept bottled inside released, giving her the courage to embrace this moment, even if it was the only chance that she would ever get. The warmth of his body, along with the feathery, playful touches and the silky caress of his hands as they slid up her shirt and across the exposed skin of her back made her feel as if she were falling.
“Lizzie,” Sebastian whispered against her mouth as h
is hand slid up her neck. “Lizzie…I love you,” he sighed as his fingers laced through her hair. He pulled her face closer, intensifying the kiss that left her reeling, as if the world no longer existed beyond the two of them. Sebastian captured her mouth again and Lizzie responded in kind, saying his name in a heavy, breathy voice that intensified the passion they suddenly shared. As his lips left hers and traveled down the length of her neck to the shoulder, she accepted the fact that she would always love Sebastian and nothing on this earth would change that.
A sudden knock pounded on the window, causing Lizzie to abruptly pull herself out of Sebastian’s arms, agonizingly ripping her mouth from his. The knock sounded again, and Sebastian sat staring as if stunned, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The knock sounded a third time, followed by a loud shout to roll down the window. Lizzie watched Sebastian snap out of his trance and turn towards the driver’s window. Turning the ignition over, he rolled the window down just enough for Andy to peer inside.
“So, this is why I was called out in the middle of the night and in the pouring rain?” Andy’s smirk could fit the length of a football field. “You would think that you two would have found a better, warmer, not to mention drier place to do this,” he teased as rain poured in through the cracked window.
“I guess we got carried away and lost track of time.” Sebastian attempted to sound casual but failed miserably. He shot a brief glance at Lizzie who, to her credit, shrugged her shoulders and wore her sweetest smile as Andy swept his beam in to see her face.
“Well, why don’t you go home and get carried away there,” Andy said casually, either not recognizing or ignoring Sebastian’s sudden awkwardness. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll go home, too. That is after I go up and tell Frank, the guard, that the dark figures that he saw dart across the lawn were just a figment of his imagination.”
Andy wished them a good night and stood watch as Sebastian started the car. Leaving his friend standing in the torrential rain, Sebastian navigated the car back to Hazel’s house without uttering a word. Despite the quiet, Lizzie sensed the cord of tension between them grow until it was close to snapping.
What in the hell just happened, she thought. Did Sebastian just say that he loved me? Lizzie pressed her fingers to her mouth, savoring the memory of Sebastian’s lips on hers as she debated on whether she was hallucinating or not. Right now, all Lizzie knew was that neither of them was leaving the car until Sebastian explained what he’d just said.
TEN
Edward and Edith spent the next year at one another’s side. Shortly after Edward moved in permanently, Edith commissioned an exact copy of her desk, placing it in their work room, nestling it against hers in the style of Albert and Victoria. It was her gift to welcome him to his new home, the home they shared together.
Edward thrived at Blackwell Farm. If he wasn’t outside painting, he was with Edith in her writing room, his easel perched by the window where she often sat. Professionally, it was Edward’s most prosperous year. Every spare minute was spent working. His former flat mate, Arthur Price, a fellow painter who was obsessed with Greek mythology, had stayed on, delaying his plans to go back to London after a little coaching from Edward. The two fastidiously worked on a piece named The Vestal Virgins together. Even though it took an immense amount of sweet talking and endless promises, Edward convinced Edith to pose for one of the virgins, along with Elspeth, and Arthur’s wife, Beatrice.
The painting sold a month after it was presented to a lesser English lord, fetching a four-figure price that left them all speechless. Edward continued to paint like a mad man, choosing to use Edith as his model. Edith, in turn, wrote and published her third novel, The Wages of Sin. The novel garnered great attention and critical acclaim. Edith nearly cried with joy when Edward took her to London, and she saw all three of her titles in the bookseller’s window display. Despite her high hopes, her first and only trip to London had been a nightmare, save for the tea shop Edward had taken her to and of course, the booksellers. Edith’s anxiety seized upon her the night they arrived, leaving her a sobbing, hysterical mess quivering in Edward’s arms.
The intense wave of anxiety didn’t lessen until they reached the train station and were en route back to Blackwell Farm. Edith apologized profusely for ruining what was supposed to be a romantic getaway. Edward, to his credit, told her that there was no reason to apologize. Instead, he offered up an apology of his own, saying that he should have realized that London would be too much for Edith’s delicate senses to handle.
“I’m sorry that we couldn’t stay,” Edith sobbed as Edward held her protectively to his chest. Her melancholy had hung heavy over her head over the past two months, beginning just after she sent The Wages of Sin off to her editor. Edward, thinking that a distraction would help cast it away, wore his guilt like one wore a choking necktie.
“Don’t be sorry, my love.” He kissed the top of her head tenderly before placing a second kiss upon her temple. Edward gathered Edith closer, comforting her, hoping like hell that their connection would soothe her nerves and dispel the ghosts that always seemed to snap at her heels.
“I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay. If you want to go back to London once we arrive, I won’t argue or beg you…” Edith’s words faded as she glanced at Edward, her dark eyes panicked and fearful.
“I want to be wherever you are.” Edward took her chin and kissed her delicate lips. “If that means remaining here in the Lake District until we’re both a couple of old, tottering farts, then so be it!” Edward declared, provoking a short laugh from the woman he loved. “My home is with you. I wouldn’t be happy without you, Edith. I hope you know that. I don’t need London or any other fancy city of the world. As long as I have you, I am beyond content,” he declared, hoping that she understood what he said was the absolute truth. “From now on, when I have to go to London for business, I will go alone. I’d rest easier knowing that you were home, safe, secure, and eagerly awaiting my return.”
Edith sniffed as she leaned into his chest once again, seeking an unattainable solace. Her sobbing lessened across the remaining way home. Edward did his best to set her at ease, moved that this delicate flower he loved to the depth of his soul had dared to step beyond the boundaries of her comfort, even if it ended in utter failure. What mattered was that she’d done it to be with him. From that point on, Edward never asked her to go to London again. At least, not until Edith herself felt ready. To Edith, she felt as if she’d been given the world and it rested within the arms of the man she loved.
************
“Edith tells me that you’re going to London!” Addie burst into Edith’s writing room, startling Edward so that he dropped his paintbrush, leaving specks of cerulean blue across the tops of his shoes.
“Addie, didn’t anyone ever tell you about knocking?” Edward growled, irritated and growing increasingly angry at yet another unwanted disturbance.
“Oh, I know you don’t mind if it’s me.” Addie attempted to flirt but Edward refused to play along.
“I do mind, except if it’s Edith. At least she has the decency to announce herself instead of ruining my work, not to mention my shoes,” he snapped, knowing inherently that nothing he said would rid Addie of this foolish notion that he fancied her. “What is it that you want? Say what you have to say and be gone,” he demanded, wanting rid of her as soon as possible.
“Well, when I heard Edith say that you were going to London, I thought it would be a perfect time for us to get to know one another better.” Addie stepped into the room and edged closer to him. Edward instantly noticed that she wore one of the ‘new’ dresses she’d had made. One she often bragged was fashioned after some gaudy Parisian fashion house design after barging in while he and Edith took tea. Unlike Edith, who sat quietly bobbing her head as if it were the most interesting story in the world, Edward had finally had enough and interrupted Addie’s ramblings, changing the subject towards the weather.
“Addie
,” Edward said as he set both his brush and palette down upon a bit of old newspaper resting on the window seat. “Let me explain something to you, once and for all.” He drew his hands up to his hips and met her with a defiant pose. “For the hundredth time, I am not going anywhere with you, especially London. I know you far more than I want to, and it upsets Edith, this constant badgering me. I want to make something crystal clear, whatever you think is going to happen between you and me, won’t. You don’t have a chance in hell. I love Edith. I don’t even like you. I love Edith and only Edith,” Edward snapped, finally saying what he’d repressed over the last near-thirteen months. Addie, who’d waited with bated breath, wasn’t prepared for Edward had to say.
“Surely, you’re joking,” Addie scoffed, visibly bristling at Edward’s blatant, yet thorough rejection. “How can you love that simpering idiotic fool when you have a passionate, muse that worships you standing before you?” she demanded, refusing to accept what Edward had said.
“I love Edith because she is genuine. She isn’t afraid to share her true self with me. You, however, disgust me. I dislike you because you are a thief, a liar, and a con artist. You are a parasite that leeches off of Edith’s kindness and good fortune. I know all about you, miss.” Edward wagged his finger towards her. “I know all about the rumors surrounding Lord and Lady Whitburn’s death. I’ve made inquiries and I’m horrified at what I’ve learned. I know that the authorities suspect that you killed them but can’t arrest you on account of very little proof! I also know that you’ve constantly lied about your parent’s ‘fortune’. Your parents were nothing but down-on-their-luck farmers who both died way before their time. Let’s not forget that I also know about why you were sent to Europe. I’d believe that little something would be starting school right about now, wouldn’t they?”
Addie’s faced boiled, turning red within the span of a heartbeat. “How dare you!” she shrieked, her body quaking violently. “How dare you say such things! You have no idea what you’re talking about! You’re all just jealous that I had the world and had it ripped out from under me! You and that stupid, simpering idiot probably laugh yourselves stupid at night at my expense. We’ll just see about that, won’t we? I’ll make you pay, Edward Murray. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make you and that idiot Edith pay for thwarting me!” Addie marched out, slamming the door on her way out. The force shook several paintings that Edward had hung on Edith’s walls. Each one of them a small gift representing his love for her.
The Secrets of Water Page 19
