Edward drew in a deep breath through his nose after Addie’s footsteps went silent. He breathed in a second one to steady himself before he went back to work.
For nearly a quarter of an hour, he tried to turn his focus back on the windowsill where he’d sketched Edith sleeping last night. Her angelic form tightened his chest, seeing her so beautiful, yet so vulnerable, almost like a woman who hadn’t released the child within her yet. A woman he’d love until the end of time.
Finally, after several failed attempts, Edward set his instruments down and laid a paint-splotched sheet over the canvas to protect it. Leaving his work behind, he headed downstairs, eager to find Edith and stroll through the gardens.
************
On the anniversary of their thirteenth month together, Edward received an unexpected telegram from Boston. His sister, Elinor, wrote with the news that his wife, Amy, had passed away peacefully in her sleep. Elinor had gone on to say that Amy was buried in the Murray family plot and was given the most beautiful memorial monument that money could buy.
Edward received the news with a mixture of sorrow and relief. As he sat on the edge of their bed, telegram in hand, Edward sobbed against Edith’s shoulder, thankful that Amy’s earthly imprisonment was at an end and that they were both finally free.
“This means that we are free to marry, my love,” Edward said and kissed Edith’s hand as she wiped his tears away. “Nothing can stop us from being together,” he added with a smile tainted with grief. “Nothing can separate us or stand in our way.”
Wanting nothing more than to be close to the one she loved, Edith held him through the night as Edward worked through his initial shock, ultimately coming to grips with the news.
************
As Edward and Edith continued to live in love-soaked bliss, their relationship with Addie deteriorated further. Shortly after Edward’s confrontation in the writing room, Addie began to act out. Violently. It started with a shredded curtain and quickly accelerated into small fires, provocations, arguments, even some of Edith’s precious keepsakes disappearing. Even the staff complained about being pinched. How needles were stuck inside the pockets of their aprons. The incidents grew worse and became frequent. Quickly, Edward sought to put an end to it. His only obstacle was convincing Edith that her dear friend was not who she believed her to be.
All the while, Addie’s obsession with Edward grew exponentially. Every time they ran into each other—which was often, despite the enormity of the house—Addie begged him to escort her into town, or to go to London, She’d even gone so far as to beg him to run away with her. Each offer was an attempt to turn his eye towards her, forsaking Edith. It was something that Edward could never do.
“We could see a play or take in the sights!” Addie begged with grotesque confidence as she came to him again and again, willfully ignoring his growing dislike for her. Meanwhile, Edward glared at her with disgust. “I know that you’re just dying to get away from this drab, dull house and the drab, dull people that live within it! Only someone like me who truly appreciates your genius knows that this place is suffocating your talent. That you need more inspiration than… this.” Addie’s nose wrinkled as she gestured to their surroundings.
“No,” Edward told her flatly, time and time again. Each time he refused her, Addie stormed off, screaming, cursing, and ranting while Edward remained, angry and horrified that Edith continued to allow the increasingly volatile girl to remain under her roof.
“I tell you, Edith,” Edward said one night when they were alone and sweaty from making love, entwined in one another’s arms just before sleep. “I think she’s mad,” he declared, not bothering to hide the growing disgust that he felt. “She’s unstable and unpredictable. You should listen to what Mrs. Sargent says. That woman knows everything and everyone in this town. If she says that Addie is no good, you should take that as gospel and get rid of her.”
“I can’t just chuck her out,” Edith argued, using the same vernacular that Edward often used. “She’s my friend. She doesn’t have anybody or anything in the world. The least I can do is allow her to stay until she finds another situation.” Edith sat up suddenly, irritated at Edward’s incessant complaining about Addie’s increasingly erratic behavior, not to mention her very presence within the house.
“Edith, Addie is going to kill us in our beds if we are not careful. She’s dangerous.”
“Oh, pish tosh! She’s not dangerous, she’s just… excitable. She’d never do anything to hurt anyone or anything.” Edith argued back, growing increasingly unsure about Addie’s sanity.
“If she’s not a threat, then explain why she set fire to the drapes in the sitting room?” Edward sat up too, meeting Edith’s angry eye.
“She knocked over a candle. It was an accident,” Edith attempted to argue but Edward refused to let it go.
“She did not knock over a candle. Mrs. Sargent witnessed her intentionally holding that candle to the curtain,” he countered. “Now, are you going to tell me that Mrs. Sargent imagined that? Are you going to say that the honest, godly woman that you’ve known for the entirety of your life is a liar?” Edward half-shouted, trying like hell to keep his voice down so that he did not disturb the others sleeping soundly close by.
“No…” Edith tried to rebuff his words as her mind processed what Edward said. Slowly though, she started to see a kernel of truth appear out of the darkness. “Why would she do that, Edward?” Edith asked, all fight from before now gone. “Why would she do all what you’ve said—setting fire to the curtains, torturing the staff, hiding people’s things? It all seems so… so… so childish. So immature.”
“She’s jealous of what you have, my darling.” Edward captured Edith’s hand and brought it apologetically to his lips. “Addie cannot stand that you’ve been fortunate, whereas she has not. She doesn’t like the fact that the guests favor you over her, and she definitely doesn’t like that you’ve made a name for yourself while she continues to be no one. Let’s not forget her obsession with me.” Edward paused while Edith filled the silence with a pensive humph.
“Did I tell you that she asked me to go to London again just after dinner?” he asked while Edith shook her head no. “Addie pulled me into the drawing room and demanded that I go on a ‘little holiday’ with her. Then, she flung herself at me and begged me to kiss her. After I threw her off, she collapsed at my feet, weeping hysterically and accusing me of being a cruel man. Unable to stomach it, I kicked her off of me and said no. That my place was here with you. Upon hearing that, she went berserk with hysteria. When I told her that no amount of theatrics would work, she jumped to her feet, face and eyes bone dry, and seethed at me through her teeth. She told me to watch my back. That nasty things happened to men that refused her. She then fled the room, only to return a few minutes later consumed with a nervous panic,” Edward explained, thoroughly exasperated.
“She said that?” Edith’s eyebrows knitted together as if she were watching loose ends tie themselves together. “I don’t understand why she’d be in a nervous panic?” Edith asked further, utterly confused
“Addie ran back in and grabbed a small stack of what looked like receipts from off the desk. She tried to convince me that they were reminder notes but, in her hurry, she didn’t realize that several had fallen to the floor. They weren’t receipts, Edith. They were bank notes. Several written in Addie’s name and totaling upwards of a thousand pounds!” Edward’s exasperation grew grave as Edith listened attentively. “And Edith, my love,” Edward paused as he threaded his fingers through hers. “I know that you told me not to, but I went through your accounts today.” Edith opened her mouth to object, but Edward closed his eyes, silently asking her to hear him out. “As a former banker, I can easily spot irregularities, especially gross ones. It’s what I was trained to do. Addie’s suspicious behavior didn’t sit right with me, so I went over the ledger that you keep in the desk drawer downstairs and checked the notes against it. Edith, those notes ar
e not reflected in your household accounts.”
“What are you trying to tell me?” Edith asked, suddenly afraid of where Edward was headed with this.
“Edith, Addie’s been pilfering your money.” He delivered his findings as gently as he could. “I think she’s been lying about all these new ‘improvements’ she claims to be making but we never see. I suspect that she’s been using your money to enrich herself.” Edward’s eyes reflected the honesty in which he spoke. “That your so-called best friend is using you to finance an extravagant lifestyle.”
“Surely, she just forgot to add them…” Edith made a last-ditch effort to defend Addie, but the zeal disappeared as quickly as it rose. Over the course of their year together, if there was one thing that Edith had learned about Edward, it was that he was brutally honest. The man wouldn’t lie, even if it meant to save his own life. “Edward, why would she steal from me? Why would she ask you to run away with her?” Edith’s eyes teared as a bitter, ugly reality rooted itself within her.
“Because she wants to be you. She wants the life that you have, and it kills her that she doesn’t.” Edward spoke what Edith knew to be true. “It’s clear that Addie resents that you’ve been so fortunate while she hasn’t.” He motioned towards the simple elegance of their bedroom. “And, she’s resentful of the fact that I chose you, not her.” Seeing the distress tense Edith’s delicate, lovely features, Edward kissed her softly with an attempt to reassure her.
“Edward,” Edith exclaimed. “What can I do to show her that there’s no need to be jealous? That as long I’m alive, she’s got someone to support her.” Edward drew Edith to him and wrapped his long arm around her shoulders.
“Edie,” He tenderly kissed her temple. “There’s nothing that you can do. There is nothing that you can say or do that will change Addie or how she feels. Whether you see it or not, she will always find a way to get what she wants. And, if for some reason she can’t, she’ll make damned sure that if she can’t have it, no one else can,” Edward stated, not knowing just how prophetic his words were.
“Enough about her, though.” He released a short sigh but kept Edith nestled within the protection of his arms. “Did I tell you that I brought you a present back from London?”
Edith lifted her gaze to his. Within them, Edward saw everything that he’d ever wanted. He’d found a soulmate who didn’t shun him for the mistakes he’d made or had run away upon learning their consequences. Instead, he found his intellectual equal who possessed a dark, yet breathtaking passion. A woman who saw the world within the same vibrant kaleidoscope as him. A woman who missed him greatly while he had been away in England’s capital, with the hopes of selling his latest creation. The same one who tucked several love letters in his carrying case to comfort him while he was gone. A woman who shared herself fully and asked nothing in return.
“Here.” Edward got up from their bed, crossed the floor, and pulled a navy velvet bag from out of the dresser drawer. Walking back, he climbed into bed and snuggled against woman he loved. “I got this for you. I sold Scylla and Charybdis.” He opened the bag, pulled out a tissue-wrapped parcel, and tenderly placed it in her hands. Edward watched her with rapt fascination as Edith’s eyes flicked back and forth between him and her present. Time had passed so quickly. Each day was a gift, as if he’d been blessed by the gods themselves, forever in their favor. The present he gave her now was to show how much he loved her, specifically the fulfillment of spending every night in the comfort of her arms. Being with her was beyond anything he’d ever experience. This was love in its truest form. It pained him briefly that he’d never experienced that with Amy but left him profoundly grateful to have found it at all.
“You did?” Edith said, bringing him out of his brief reverie. Edith eyed him curiously as she tested the weight of the object resting in her hands. It had some heft to it but instinctively, she knew what it was.
“I did. A lord purchased upon seeing it at Arthur’s show. He’s the same chap that bought The Vestal Virgins,” Edward explained. “He’s also commissioned me to do his self-portrait,” He added. “I used a portion of the money from the sale to buy you this.” Edward gestured to the package. Filled with sudden excitement, Edith tore it open and burst into tears.
“You got the brush I was looking at!” she said through a new rush of tears. “The one with the mother-of-pearl inlay.” She gently swept her hands over the multi-colored shell and pressed it close to her chest. It had caught her eye during her first and only trip to London. It had been on display in the window next to the booksellers and immediately she had wanted it. Why she hadn’t purchased it herself, she didn’t know. As it rested in her hand now, she was thankful that she’d hesitated because if she hadn’t, this moment would have never happened.
“Edward, how can I ever say thank you?” She sniffed back an appreciative tear and kissed him thankfully.
“I wouldn’t have sold the painting if it wasn’t for you,” he said as he sighed, lovingly stroking the length of her loose ebony hair. “If you hadn’t been discussing Greek tales with Arthur, and if you hadn’t agreed to sit for me, none of this would have been possible.” He kissed her in return with immense appreciation. “Do you like it?”
Edith smiled anew. “I love it!” she said excitedly. “Almost as much as I love you.”
“If you love me now, I can only imagine how much more you will love me once you see the other present that awaits you in your writing room.” Edward anxiously watched Edith’s face light up with excited anticipation.
Without hesitation, Edith flung the covers back and ran from the room. Edward followed her at a slower pace, determined to give her time before he reached her. He heard the loud thudding of her footfall as she ran down the short length of the hall and opened the creaky door to their sanctuary.
“Edward!” Edith called from down the hallway. With a wide smile, Edward skipped across the short distance. “When did you have time to do this?” Edith was in tears as Edward entered their shared space. Hanging on the wall opposite Edith’s writing desk was Edwards’ version of Ione, the sea nymph, perched upon a collection of jagged rocks and surrounded by waves of ocean spray.
“This is what I’ve been working on during my time down at the lakefront.” He approached her from behind and lovingly wrapped his arms about her waist. “Arthur gave me the idea when he was last here. Do you remember the picnic that we took down by the shore?” Edward harkened back to the mid-summer picnic that he and Edith had attended, along with Elspeth, Jonathan, Arthur, and his sister, Beatrice. Fortunately, Addie was away in London and wasn’t present to ruin the day with her selfishness and chronic need for attention.
“I remember how you two spoke of the Nereids,” Edith said as she gazed up at Edwards’ creation awestruck with wonder. “But I never imagined that it would have inspired this.” She longed to touch the image of herself as a long-legged, elegant bodied creature with ankle-length black hair and porcelain skin that reflected in the painted, opalescent moonlight.
“If you look closer,” Edward coaxed her closer. “that is Elspeth.” He pointed to a flaxen-haired creature almost hidden by the waves. “And that,” he pointed to the opposite side. “is Beatrice.” His finger guided her eyes to another figure that was almost identical to the one Elspeth had inspired.
“Oh, Edward.” Edith turned from her gift and walked into the security of his arms. A contented sigh escaped from her lips as she felt the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek.
“Since we are in the spirit of giving gifts,” Edith said suddenly, pulling herself back from the warmth of Edward’s embrace. Edward peered down at her, curious and intrigued. With a wide, infectious smile, Edith took possession of his hand and placed it upon the slight bulge of her stomach.
“Dr. Childress came to see me while you were in London,” she said, referring to the physician Edward frequently hired to monitor her health. “It turns out that this sickness that I’ve been suffering will cure
itself around May.” Her eyes danced as she fought to remain straight-faced.
“Edith?” Edward’s face lit up like one of Edison’s light bulbs. “Are you with child?” Edward could barely contain himself. The thought of fatherhood had been an impossible dream until now.
As Edith stood before him, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears and her beautiful mouth curved with a proud smile, the dam Edward had built inside burst.
Taking a step back, Edward leaned against their joined desks and cried until there were no more tears to be shed. Afraid of his reaction, Edith stood motionless, any trace of happiness on hold until she knew for certain how he felt.
“You’re not angry…are you? Please don’t be angry,” Edith said timidly, mistakenly reading Edward’s reaction for anger.
“Oh, no, my darling.” Edward drew Edith close and brushed the loose hair back from her face. “Just the opposite. You’ve made me the happiest man alive. A baby is the perfect way to start our new life together.” He kissed her forehead, absolutely contented as the pieces of his broken life began to fit together.
“New life?” Edith’s brow furrowed as she pulled back from his embrace.
“My Uncle Xavier, my mother’s only sibling, died.” Edward caressed Edith’s cheek. “A letter arrived this morning from his solicitor just after breakfast. It came while you were working. In the letter, Mr. Biggs—he’s the solicitor—stated that my uncle bequeathed his farm in California to me upon his death. From what Mr. Biggs said, Uncle Xavier took exception to my father’s manipulation and disdain for my passion. He often argued how unfair it was to place such limitations upon me. Mr. Biggs wrote that my uncle intended that I sell the farm but I’m thinking of keeping it,” he explained as his love listened on. “Edith, my love,” Edward’s thumb traced the edge of Edith’s jawline as his other hand rested tenderly at the nape of her neck. “Would you move to California with me? Would you mind terribly if our baby was born an American?”
The Secrets of Water Page 20
