by Lila Felix
“I know, or at least I think I know, why Marie is aging. I may not know why, but it correlates directly with something else.”
She wasn’t making any sense.
“What does it correlate to?”
“I’m not good at this.”
I chuckled. “I know. You’ll never catch anything.”
In one fluid motion, she picked up the pole and tossed it, rod and bait, behind her.
“Not the fishing, Porter.”
I had tried to prove to her that she could say anything, but my explosion at breakfast had torn that all apart.
In the distance, I heard a wagon and a horse that could only be mine. Benjamin always hastened his pace when he neared home. He seemed to be the only creature around that actually enjoyed this place.
“June and Eliza are back.”
“So what? Tell me what you were thinking.”
“We should go help them.”
I grew exasperated with her unwillingness to let me in. I didn’t deserve to be let in, but I wanted to, nevertheless.
“Fine, let’s go help them. You’re not off the hook, by the way.” She bowed her head, hiding her smile from me, but I’d seen it. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of—affection, shall we say?”
“Behave, Sir. Your mother is right there.”
We were speaking to each other through clenched jaws as we walked toward the approaching wagon. My mother had stayed in the main part of the house for far longer than I’d intended. But the closer and closer Delilah and I became the more I wanted privacy more than anything.
“I won’t behave tonight. One night without you in my bed is one night too many.”
By the time we reached the house, Delilah’s face rivaled the redness of a cherry. I loved to make her blush. It was the one time I knew I was doing something right.
“Well, where have you two been off to?”
I cocked my eyebrow. “Fishing.”
“Fishing? Not really the activity I was hoping for. I do want grandchildren someday, you know.”
Delilah’s eyes grew to the size of half dollars.
“Come on, Eliza, you’ve made the girl go whiter than she already was and that’s saying a lot.”
I kept Delilah close to me the rest of the day. Whether she liked it or not, I would keep her under my watch for the foreseeable future. After retiring to the sitting room after supper, I decided to play for her. I was desperate to win her heart—to keep her heart.
“I thought I’d play something for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes, of course.”
I moved to the piano in the corner of the room and cringed at the amount of dust on the fallboard. The ivory keys had spent too much time neglected, too much time unused. But as soon as my fingers hit the keys, the feeling of the music took over and the flood of emotion that emoted through the notes expressed everything I needed to say to my new wife, but couldn’t. I supposed that was the point of music, an expression of words unspoken.
After a few songs, Delilah came to sit next to me, bringing a lone candle to sit atop the piano. That candle, plus the fire were the only lights in the room. The fire cast a light on her face that was unmatched in beauty.
The lower notes at the end of the song were dragged out on purpose, hoping that they carried meaning.
“That was beautiful. You should play more often.”
“I will, if you like it.”
“I love it.”
“You want to play something?”
She ticked her eyes at the floor. “You know I can’t play.”
“Sit here.” I scooted back and patted the space between my legs. It wasn’t a big space, but even with my mother’s prodding and pigging encouragement, she was tiny. Her breath hitched at my proposal.
“I don’t know.”
“My love, are you afraid of me?” I reached behind her head and threaded my hands in her hair at the base of her neck. The hair there held a softness that was incomparable.
“No. I’m not. I’m afraid of me.”
My eyebrows showed her the question I couldn’t express.
“I’m not good at this. This—intimacy.”
Despite the coldness in the room, heated energy throbbed between us. My heart arrested with impatience. Her breaths, delicate yet bold, skittered across my skin, raising goose bumps.
“That’s the whole point of marriage—to learn things together.”
She ground her lips between her teeth. I would trade everything I owned to know what she was thinking at just that minute.
“It’s just me, my love.” I pushed every ounce of comfort I could into those words.
She scooted over and sat between my legs, her hands balled into fists, refusing to touch the keys.
Every time I exhaled, two ringlets at the base of her neck would waiver like Spanish moss hanging in a storm. Complete enamor trickled down my being as she turned her head to show me an innocent smile over her shoulder.
“I’m going to put my hands over yours and we’ll play together.”
I took my time, of course. Beginning at her shoulders, I skimmed my fingers along her arms leaving shivers in their wake. By the time my fingers overlapped hers, we were both holding our breaths, waiting for the complete connection.
We played the same song as I’d played before, but much slower. We fumbled through most of the piece until she withdrew her hands from mine and encouraged me to continue on my own.
With my chin rested on her shoulder, I played at her beckoning. Every once in a while, she would quiver in my hold while a playful grin encouraged me on.
Finally, as the moon rose higher in the sky and the candle’s melted wax pooled around it, I finished my serenade to her.
“Those were the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard.”
I took the opportunity to nuzzle her neck. I didn’t stop there. My lips made a path along the base of her neck. I pulled down the curve of her shawl and continued my exploration along her shoulder blades and the space between.
She swayed with her back against my chest. I made my hands stay on her waist, not trusting them to move an inch in either direction.
“I would never hurt you, you know that, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“Are you tired?”
No. She wasn’t tired.
“What do you want?”
I was asking so much more than what she wanted to do for entertainment. I wanted to know what my wife wanted from me this night. What she would allow me to do.
“I just want you. I—I want you to love me.”
She broke me with those words. I did love her. I loved how she’d melded into my life and I couldn’t remember what I’d done with myself before she was here.
“Let’s go to bed. You’re shivering.”
“It’s not from the cold, husband.”
We walked upstairs together, but trepidation filled me. We’d had no honeymoon concrete with expectations. We had just been strangers.
Except, she was part of me now.
“I can go to my room…”
She’d gathered her shawl back around herself on the walk to the bedroom. It was almost a force holding her together. Finally, she met my eyes.
“I don’t want to sleep alone anymore. But it’s your choice, Porter.”
She turned and left, going through the bedroom door but leaving it open behind her. There was no choice.
Chapter Fifteen
Delilah
After recovering from the shock of Porter in our bedroom for the first time, I ducked into the bathroom to change into a peach-colored nightgown, one of the ones he’d bought for me.
It was terrifying business, being married.
I walked into the bedroom and Porter stood at the window. His fingers were pressed to the glass. His face was clenched in a cathartic grimace of panic and disbelief.
“What is it?”
“It’s—I can’t believe it.”
&nb
sp; A pulse of anger worked through me thinking that Rebel was down there as June said, looking into our window.
“What is it?”
He didn’t answer, but held his hand out to me while never breaking his gaze from the target of his attention.
I took his hand, clammy and tense, and sidled up next to him to share his vision.
Rebel stood on the center island of the pond, crouched with his hand stretched out toward the water. He spoke and if I had to guess, he was coaxing something or calling someone.
“It’s the spot where I found Marie. What is he doing there?”
My breath hiked in response to what I saw next. Marie appeared in the water, head first, followed by the rest of her body, as though she were being birthed from the pond. Inch by inch, Rebel seduced her from the water with a flick of his fingers. A phantom hand, white and dry, despite the origin of her uprising, rose from the water and reached for him.
“They were in love in life. It must be true in death.”
I watched in eager interest. I’d seen people in love.
He owned her, called her from the depths, and reeled her in from a place she didn’t wish to leave. I could see the despair on her face. Even as she reached, her other hand stayed behind in the water.
He moved closer to the water and for a moment, I thought Porter was correct and that they would exchange some ghost to lover kiss of passion.
But Marie’s hand moved beyond his outstretched one and to something closer to him—something around his neck.
She reached for the necklace.
It was there, around his neck, dangling out of his shirt, the gold shimmering by the light of the moon mixed with the haze that rested on the top of the water.
My mouth opened to tell Porter of my discovery, but he was already gone. I was sure his heart was broken by seeing them together again. She’d betrayed him in life and she was doing it again in death.
“Porter, I’m sorry.”
“She’s aged. You were right. All this time I doubted you. Most of me believed you, but this…”
“Even more today.” I hadn’t left the window or the scene below. Acid rose in my stomach and threatened to choke me. What had once appeared to be remembrance now revealed some kind of sick control.
Rebel took the necklace out and hung it in front of her with a pendulous motion. Marie bowed her head, her face and body now revealed a lady, maybe sixteen or seventeen at best. Her back and shoulders shook in sadness as he kept the necklace at arm’s length, never letting her have it or even touch it.
He was torturing her.
She wasn’t even allowed to rest in peace.
I moved the curtain open for a better view. I must’ve opened it too much because Rebel’s eyes met mine across the pond and in an instant Marie’s cries turned to anger as she seethed in my direction. Her attentions were now on me and in a movement that resembled gliding she swam across the pond and began toward the house.
But I was safe as long as Porter was with me.
I knew she wouldn’t attack as long as he was near.
I approached the bed. Porter sat on the edge, bent over, head in his hands. He deferred to the stance whenever Marie was mentioned.
“I’m sorry. Her betrayal was unforgivable.”
He shook his head in a disagreeing motion. “I have forgiven her. I just wish it would all end. I don’t want you hurt and I’m sick of the past reliving itself, tormenting us both. I am worthless. I can’t even protect my wife.”
“We will figure this out, Porter. I’m sure of it. Let’s go to bed. Everything will be brighter in the morning.”
He looked up at me. I’d never seen a more pathetic look.
“What if we don’t figure it out? Will you leave me? If you leave—I’ll go with you. I’ll sell everything here and we’ll go wherever you want.”
This man, who saved me from a broken and worthless existence, was now offering to uproot himself to make me happy.
“Let’s go to bed. You’re not thinking clearly.”
He stood and his sheer height took my breath, yet he was the vulnerability in this duo.
“Which side do you sleep on?”
“The side next to you. I’m not particular, Porter. I’m simply grateful for a bed.”
He chose the other side of the bed. I thought I might fall faint from the sight of him. I would never get tired of seeing Porter and knowing that he was my husband. We lay face to face, one of his arms under my head and the other lazy on my waist. His hands were always on my waist when underneath it all I wished for them to be somewhere else entirely.
“You said something to me earlier and I didn’t answer you properly.”
I traced a pattern on his chest with my finger. I’d said lots of things to him earlier.
“What did I say?”
“You said you loved me.”
I raised up on my elbow and looked down on him, now on his back. My hair gave me some protection until he pushed it behind my back.
“I said that.”
“Did you mean it?”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Porter.”
He paused. The atmosphere had changed around us. The curtains were drawn around the bed and even in the pitch black, I knew he could sense the smile in my words.
“Say it again.” His demand came with a tightening of his arms around me.
I waited a breath—then two. This felt different, like saying those words would surely tangle me up further in his grasp.
“I love you, Porter. I think I have since the moment you walked into my home.”
A bloated silence filled the space after my confession. A little part of me died along with it. I’d dared to hope for his heart-filled response, but got nothing.
“I love you, Delilah. I have since you made me hide against the tree so you could climb the ladder.”
I laughed, louder and more boastful than I thought possible. “I still owe you for that. You never called in your favor.”
“I want to call it in now. Would that make me horrible?”
Before I could answer, his lips were on mine and I was under him, the weight of his body feeling like heaven.
No, making me his didn’t make him horrible at all.
~~
The next time I saw Porter was at breakfast. He’d given me the morning to myself, which I appreciated.
All night, despite how tired I was, I thought about Marie and Rebel and that necklace, the one that seemed to call her from the grave.
I would do anything in my power to release us both from the hold they had on us. The life I’d always wanted hung above me like a charm to keep a child’s attention—a beautiful thought, but never attainable.
Chapter Sixteen
Porter
I reached over her sleeping body and opened the curtains. Though it was dark in our cocoon, I’d stayed lying silent next to her just listening to her breathe in and out. I’d had to contain my chuckle several times as she made noises when she turned left or right. I half-expected her to wake up in a panic. It was only the second time we’d slept together and the first time for everything else.
The sun came through the curtains and gave me a whole new perspective on my wife, now truly my wife.
“Delilah, my love, it’s morning.”
I laughed as she pulled her hair over her face, shielding her eyes from the morning.
“I have some things to tend to. I thought maybe you’d like some privacy this morning.”
She froze in place. Maybe the events of the night before were finally catching up to her waking consciousness.
I moved some of the hair from her face and saw that I was right. Her blush was furious and I’d put it there.
“Come on, you didn’t forget that easily, did you? If not, I need to remedy that.”
“I remember it all.”
She murmured the sentiment, but I’d heard it.
“Good. I’ll get dressed and you can take your time coming down. Unless
you’d rather me bring you something to eat up here?”
“No!” was her ardent reply, which made me laugh even harder.
“Would you send me off like this? Without even a morning kiss?”
Then my timid yet courageous wife surprised me more than I ever knew possible. She sprang from the covers, without a fleeting attempt to cover her bare skin and threw her arms around my neck. For what seemed like the most glorious morning hours, she kissed my face from forehead to chin and back again.
“Will that last you awhile?”
One side of her mouth tipped up in a devilish smile that had me rethinking the entire concept of breakfast.
“I could always stay here and help you get dressed for the day.”
Her eyes turned downward. “Maybe another time. Just give me this first morning alone.”
I sighed. “If you insist.”
“Thank you.”
She lay back down on the bed while I got out and got dressed. I was well aware that her eyes never left my form as I did.
“Getting your eyeful?”
“You would leave me without a peek?”
“I guess not.”
Before I could turn around, I heard the door to the bathroom shut and the water turn on. I took the liberty of bringing down the sheets myself, wanting anyone else tasked with the chore. June wouldn’t dare say a word. It was my mother who I’d worried about.
Downstairs, I decided to pay Rebel a visit and make myself clear if I hadn’t the day before. When I entered the stalls, I found the place immaculate with sacks of food stored and fresh water for all of my horses.
He’d gotten my point, and that was the main issue.
I took my time going back to the house, giving my wife the time she needed to take care of herself.
Somehow everything had solidified the night before without words.
I had to figure out how to protect her and get rid of the woman who had never owned my heart. And the next time I was in town, I had to get rid of Rebel. My lawyers would know how to take care of expelling the contract between our families. If nothing else, I would offer him a decent sum of money. If I’d learned nothing else from marrying Delilah, it was that money could buy so many people here in The Rogue, where the green in people’s eyes wasn’t just from the reflection of the lily pads.
