The Secrets of Water

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “Please say something,” Sebastian begged after an awkward silence stretched out between them.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Lizzie answered. Sebastian watched a single tear rolled down her cheek. Instantly, he hand tightened around hers, certain that Lizzie was about to thoroughly and completely break his heart. “Except that I love you too.” Lizzie’s eyes welled before a fresh waterfall slipped down her rosy-colored cheeks. Sebastian exhaled heavily through his nose as his eyes locked onto hers, his delight shining like a beacon welcoming her home.

  Without another word said, Sebastian swept Lizzie out of her seat and kissed her with a fervor that left them both breathless. The force caused Lizzie to stumble, sending them backwards and crashing against the kitchen counter.

  “Lizzie, my love.” Sebastian pulled his mouth away and rested his forehead against hers. “Why were we so stupid for so long?” His fingers trailed along the ridge of her jaw as he gazed adoringly at her, spellbound by her beauty yet afraid that it was all a dream.

  “Because we were afraid to lose one another,” Lizzie admitted. “At least, that’s how it was for me.” More tears slid down her warm cheeks, wetting her lashes and dripping off the end of her chin. Sebastian wiped them away with a tender hand before kissing her again.

  “You will never lose me,” Sebastian swore as he laid himself bare to the woman he loved.

  “And you will never lose me,” Lizzie vowed in return as Sebastian’s mouth captured hers again, staking a claim that he’d die for.

  ************

  The following morning, Lizzie woke up to a window lit up with golden sunlight. Sebastian slept soundly beside her, his arm draped lovingly across her. Happier than she’d ever been, Lizzie closed her eyes and snuggled against him. Thinking back on the last week, she remarked on how different her life was from Point A to Point B and how happy she was for the upheaval. Finally, her life felt complete. Little did she know that there were still miles to go before the dust finally settled.

  TWELVE

  The next month moved slowly. Within its span, Edith slowly snapped out of her melancholy, focusing on her writing and the babe growing in her belly. Upon learning of Edward’s death, Addie claimed she was too distraught to disrupt her life and with the coming winter, it would be too risky to move.

  “I’ll go when spring comes,” she chimed, no doubt thinking that their agreement was now null and void. Almost immediately, Addie returned to her old ways. The only thing that changed was her spending. Cut off from accessing Edith’s money, Addie was forced to rely on the money she’d stolen from Edith and used to pad her own account. An account that, due to her ever-growing desire for new, fashionable things, was dwindling quickly.

  Life continued as it was. Although Addie ventured to go beyond the confines of her room, she and Edith avoided one another like the other had been struck down with leprosy. When they happened to meet, kind, polite, formal words were said while their true thoughts remained unspoken.

  As the days and weeks passed, Edith suspected that Addie was up to something. Telegrams at increasingly intervals and no one, save Addie’s new lady’s maid or herself were allowed to receive them. Mrs. Sargent had tried to intercept one or two but was promptly caught and reprimanded for daring to invade Addie’s privacy. Soon, even the lady’s maid was dismissed, charged with prying into matters that were not her concern. Edith watched Addie’s secret business dealings with an interest disguised as lack of care. Little did Edith know how deplorable and cunning those business matters were or how they would affect her.

  ************

  “Miss Edith,” Hannah Sargent burst into Edith’s sanctuary without knocking. Confused as to the sudden intrusion, Edith asked her longtime confidant what the matter was as the older woman locked the door tightly behind her. Holding an index finger up to her lips, Hannah urged Edith to lower her voice as she pulled a cream-colored envelope adorned with a bright red King Edward VII stamp.

  “What is it that has you so vexed?” Edith whispered audibly as she motioned for Mrs. Sargent to come closer.

  “I just took this from the mailman,” Hannah placed the envelope straight into Edith’s hands. “He brought it back because the postage was missing. I told him to wait while I fetched one, but he said he couldn’t wait. After telling him that I’d send it along with Fiona when she went to town later, I placed the stamp on it meself. I was adhering it to the envelope when I noticed that it was written in Adelide’s hand and addressed to Mr. Wagner,” she admitted. “God help me, I’ve never intruded upon your privacy but something about that letter made me uneasy. I found myself reading it before I even realized it was open.” Hannah stood nervously, wringing her hands together as shifted her weight from foot to foot.

  “What I read inside made me positively sick, Miss Edith. Sick. They’ve done you evilly, sweet girl. Read for yourself. Just read what they’re plotting to do.” Hannah urged Edith to see the horrifying truth.

  Watching Edith slowly remove the letter from the envelope, Mrs. Sargent waited patiently as Edith read the contents. Edith blanched of all color as she learned of the devious scheme being planned behind her back.

  “Where is she?” Edith jumped to her feet as her hand went protectively to her abdomen.

  “Adelide? She’s on her way back from town, but Mr. Wagner showed up just as I was on my way up here. One of the maids put him in the parlor, along with some tea.

  “I hope he’s choked on it before I get down there,” Edith growled and pushed past her ever-faithful housekeeper. “Because if he hasn’t, I just might kill him!” Edith angrily unlocked the door and stormed down the hallway, ready to confront her now-former advisor with what she’d just learned.

  Just before she reached the staircase, Edith stopped short. She paused for a beat—maybe two—as the wheels in her mind turned, planning, thinking, and deciding what would happen next. Drawing in a steadying breath, she headed back to her writing room. When she opened the door, Mrs. Sargent was staring out the window, just as Edith had done many times before.

  “You’re back?” Mrs. Sargent said, temporarily turning her gaze away from the outside world to focus on Edith.

  “I’ve decided to give this some thought,” Edith said evenly, although her emotions coursed through her like rapidly moving water. “I don’t want to act rash. Perhaps we can discuss this over dinner? After all, don’t they deserve a chance to explain themselves?” Edith’s tone was almost emotionless, a dramatic change from seconds before when she cut across the floor in a rush of wildfire.

  “I don’t agree,” Mrs. Sargent argued as she touched the lace curtain with appreciation and turned from the window. “What they’re planning is criminal. However, this is your house and if that is the approach you want to take, I will support you.”

  “Thank you,” Edith reached for the older woman and placed a loving, thankful hand upon the other’s wrist. “What do you have planned for tonight for dinner?”

  “Roasted chicken. I slathered the bird in softened butter and added a mixture of fresh rosemary, parsley, and thyme. It’s currently marinating in the larder. There will be garlic and rosemary roasted fingerling potatoes and those fresh grilled field mushrooms that you love to pair with it.”

  Mrs. Sargent’s cooking prowess was on full display. Edith savored a surge of admiration for the woman and the depth of her skill. The menu she had planned would be a nice fit for the night ahead.

  “That sounds wonderful,” Edith praised as she returned her hand to hang at her side. “Thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Edith,” Mrs. Sargent offered as she took notice of the rapid change in the younger woman’s behavior. A change that left her completely unsettled. “You know that Mr. Brown and I will always be there for you. You’re like family to us.”

  “You are family to me,” Edith added, wanting her life-long caretaker to know just how much she treasured the two people who had been a constant source of comfort in her short life.

>   Without anything further, Mrs. Sargent left to return to the kitchen. Tonight’s dinner waited to be cooked. Armed with the belief that a good meal could always soothe the soul, Mrs. Sargent was determined to see that tonight’s fare was both delicious and uplifting.

  Edith watched silently until Mrs. Sargent disappeared down the stairwell. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she turned and gazed out at the pond in the distance. A pang clutched at her chest as she visualized a brief glimpse of Edward standing along its edge in the moonlight. He’d gone to the pond the night before he departed for London, requesting that she’d not follow him.

  “I need a few minutes alone,” he told her honestly. “I have a few things to tell the water,” he offered up his explanation and Edith accepted it without question.

  Edith watched the water ripple in the afternoon light. The way the gold played upon the blue reminded her of when she first met Edward. His lake scene, the one that now hung in her bedroom, was a riot of color but the two hues that stood out the most was the gold of the afternoon light and the dark somber blue of the lake’s water. The two colors she would always associate with him.

  Edith squeezed her eyes shut and struggled to clear her mind of the past. Right now, she needed to focus on the present and the ghosts that haunted her would have to wait. She had a plan for the evening. A plan that would see that all things were put to right and would lay the foundation for her future.

  After a long contemplation, Edith left her sanctuary and went to the cellar instead of heading out for a walk to clear her mind. As she descended into the damp, musty room, she walked to the furthest shelf settled against the opposite wall. A new, sturdy wine rack was nestled against the damp stone wall. Edward had built it with his own hands and, as a token of his affection, filled it with multiple bottles of Edith’s favorite vintages. On the top, settled in a recess on the far-right end, was a single bottle of Edward’s favorite, Pinot Grigio. They had intended to drink it on their last night here, but now sat untouched, coated in a thin layer of dust. A bottle that she’d intended to never open but now, she wouldn’t just open, she’d share eagerly.

  Edith reached for the bottle but hesitated, her fingers mere centimeters from the smooth, emerald glass.

  “Edith, are you sure?” Edward said across the chasm of space and time. Her breath exited her lips with a raspy sigh.

  “Yes,” she answered. “They deserve it.”

  Closing her eyes, she grasped the bottle and hurried it upstairs to prepare it for dinner.

  ************

  “Edith!” Randall Wagner exclaimed after over an hour of waiting alone. As he rose to his feet, his knee struck the table, jostling the still-warm tea pot housed within a posy-covered tea cozy. Edith saw a minute tan stain start to form on the cloth covering the spout.

  “Randall,” Edith extended her hands to him as she entered the ruby-red parlor. Randall stepped forward and eagerly accepted them. “I apologize for the long wait,” she expressed her profuse regret, showing nothing of the deception she’d learned earlier. “I was napping when Mrs. Sargent came to announce your arrival. I had one of my headaches.” She touched her temple for emphasis. “And I had to wait for the aspirin to take effect.”

  “Edith, my dear.” Randall kept possession of her hand and pressed his lips along the tops of her knuckles. Edith forced herself to not snarl and snatch her hand out his grasp. “It pains me to know that you’ve been ill,” he cooed sweetly while Edith nearly choked on the bitterness of his gall. “Ever since Edward’s tragic accident, your headaches have come back with such an alarming frequency. Perhaps a trip to London to see a specialist will help?” he offered but neglected to include the fact that Edith would foot the entire bill.

  “I’ll consider it,” she said, offering him a shred of hope after years of disappointment. It didn’t escape her notice how his shoulders squared, and his chin rose with the prospect of turning an innocent trip to town into something more—a romantic relationship. Edith’s stomach soured as she recalled reading the twisted, disgusting plan he had in mind and his role in Edward’s death.

  It had been no secret that Randall had always been especially attentive to her. She hadn’t believed it until he became green-eyed with jealousy when Edward came into the picture. Mrs. Sargent believed wholeheartedly that Randall was in love with her, but Edith knew better. Randall Wagner was in love with her fortune. He craved to have her capital at his disposal, as well as the prestige that it could buy. Randall had lofty goals that were directly aimed at Parliament. With Edith’s fortune, as well as her fame, was something that he could capitalize upon to obtain a MP position and use to springboard himself up the ladder of command.

  “Edith?” Randall’s voice interrupted Edith’s train of thoughts. Feigning a recurrence of her headache, she motioned towards the wine-red divan and stated that she’d needed to sit down. Randall supported her as she planted herself upon the divan’s soft support. “Edith, are you all right?”

  “I will be fine.” She waved him off, suppressing the urge to scoff as he sat next to her. “As you know, the headache comes and goes.” She flashed him a weak smile as she leaned forward and rang a small, silver bell placed on the tray beside the tea.

  “Yes, milady?” A fresh-faced girl from the village appeared, impeccably dressed and probably cleaner that she’d ever been before. All due to Mrs. Sargent’s meticulous demands of cleanliness amongst her helpers.

  “Could you fetch some biscuits to accompany the tea?” Edith asked sweetly. With a quick nod, the girl disappeared and reappeared moments later carrying a platter in possession of a plate loaded with shortbread biscuits. Offering her thanks, Edith waited for the new maid to leave before taking a biscuit and allowing Randall to pour her a cup of tea.

  “Do you think that the source of your headaches might stem from a nervous condition? I was reading that melancholia often coincides with headaches and that sometimes, it can lead to hallucinations and extreme mania,” Randall said off-handedly as Edith bristled.

  In Addie’s letter, she’d mentioned Randall’s idea to have Edith ‘committed’ to an insane asylum—Bedlam, to be exact. The horrendous echoes that crept out of that madhouse were terrible enough to even reach the farthest corners of the land. Horrific rumors of gossip, neglect, and unspeakable abuse that turned the stomach and infuriated any sense of decency.

  While Randall prattled on about her mental state, Edith recalled an alienist who boarded at Blackwell Farm. The man had decided to take a break from his profession after suddenly losing his wife and daughter in childbirth. They had become fast friends. One afternoon, as they shared lemonade outside, he recalled the tips and tricks one could use to get anyone committed, whether they were mad or perfectly sane. A ripple of disgust traveled down the length of her spine as she recalled her conversation with Dr. Pendleton and how, at the time, she didn’t see how what she’d learned would ever have any purpose.

  “Everything happens for a reason,” Edward said the day he asked her to go to California with him. Of course, he meant moving to America and staring a new life but now, Edith knew that that statement echoed beyond relationships.

  “I suppose they might,” she said, playing along with the dangerous game that had now flipped unexpectedly against both Wagner and Addie. “I suppose I could see a doctor for that as well, when we go to London.” Edith agreed and took a small sip of her over-sweetened tea. “I happen to know an excellent alienist who has done quite well for himself…”

  “Oh no, Edith,” Randall interrupted her. “If you are referring to Dr. Pendleton, he no longer practices in London. The last I heard, he moved his practice to New York City, where there is a bigger demand for such… things.”

  “Oh, what a pity,” Edith said, knowing full well that Randall was lying. Dr. Pendleton and his new wife had recently written from London after learning of Edward’s untimely death to offer his sympathy and offer any help she might need. “I guess then I will have to leave it to you to f
ind someone suitable.”

  “I will begin to look immediately,” Randall offered, all-too happily.

  ************

  The two sat together making small talk until Addie returned home. Edith listened to her nemesis stomp upstairs, crash about, and storm back downstairs to the parlor.

  “Is something the matter, Addie?” Edith’s eyebrows raised innocently as she inquired as to why Addie was so bothered.

  “I posted a letter.” Addie desperately tried to control the growing worry in her voice. “I left it for the postman to take this morning, but I ran into him while in town and he told me that he returned it.”

  Edith watched Addie squirm anxiously. She didn’t fail to see the line of beaded sweat across her brow or how her skin bore ugly red splotches, all signs of panic. Edith forced herself not to smile but still took great enjoyment in watching Addie suffer a near nervous breakdown. No doubt, Addie feared that she’d been found out and that her scheme with Wagner would soon be exposed.

  “Oh, yes,” Edith took another sip but held onto her cup, rather than setting it down. “Mrs. Sargent said something about it missing a stamp.” Edith saw fear flash in Addie’s eyes and managed not to grin. “She said to tell you that she placed the postage on it and sent it with Fiona when she went to fetch more milk.”

  Edith forced herself not to react as Addie exhaled with relief. “Oh, how silly of me!” Addie quickly recovered and playfully batted at the air. “How could I have forgotten a something as insignificant as a stamp.” Addie entered the room and sat opposite Edith and Mr. Wagner.

  “No doubt you had other things on your mind,” Edith said, offering up a reason instead of pointing out a glaring oversight. “Tell me, how was your business in town? Was everything to your satisfaction?” Edith asked as she poured Addie a serving of tea and prepared to endure whatever answer that came out of her mouth.