Jenna's Eternal Lover

by Jeanne Savery

  Maria looked down at herself and, in a very adult way, tut-tutted. “My goodness. Just look. Already I have wrinkled it.” She cast Jenna a worried look. “It will be all right?”

  “The maid will see that it is just fine, Maria, but go change before you spill something on it or rub against something that tears it.” Jenna watched the child back off the bed and drop to the floor. Maria ran on light feet across the room but at the door, she turned back. She grinned, waved and disappeared.

  A fine minx of a child. Jacob will have his hands full when that one goes to London for her first season.

  “He knows. He spoke of it the last time they were here and she was already into everything and showing that curiosity and impatience and adventurous spirit.”

  If it is allowed, perhaps we could come back and help him watch over her, mused the ghostly voice.

  “Perhaps. We’ve interfered so much in the way things have gone for your heirs and their loves that I wonder if we haven’t already done more than our share of meddling.”

  Mel chuckled. Perhaps we have. His head turned toward the door. I hear people coming.

  Jenna turned her head toward the door. She sighed. She loved her family dearly but she was so tired.

  * * * * *

  Finally the house was quiet. Earlier, everyone had come to Jenna’s room. Serena had, with a defiant look toward the others given Jenna her present. Jenna had loved the feel of the silky material and could thank Serena for the robe without lying. Now, alone, she ran her hand over and over it.

  You’ll get long years of use out of that, said Mel, a faint sneer in his voice.

  “Don’t be nasty. She meant well. If she wants to believe I’ll wear it for years to come where is the harm?”

  Perhaps that she’ll be still more grievously hurt when we depart this aspect together?

  “There is that.” Jenna sighed. “If only she’d believe we’ll be together. If only she’d understand how much I want it, how ready I am.”

  As she spoke Jenna fumbled among the rolled up bits of paper Terrance, Sarah’s husband, had dumped from the other box all over her bed. “There,” he’d said. “That will keep you from becoming bored.” And he’d grinned.

  Jenna had unrolled one or two. There’d been a poem Lady Mary wrote herself and Mel had chuckled when his daughter blushed as, softly, Jenna read it aloud. Another had been a carefully penned copy of Jenna’s favorite psalm with a border of flowering vines, water-colored honey bees flitting among them. Jenna had read it aloud too, but then told the others she thanked them all very much but that she was tired.

  She’d been very tired but her real reason for tacitly asking to be by herself was that she’d felt terribly emotional at the thoughtfulness of their final gift and hadn’t wanted to break down before them. Slowly she and Mel had gone through the rest, talking of those who had added their bits to the box. Mel had discovered another asset to having passed beyond his old life. He’d been able to read Rube’s poem even though it was written in a foreign language and not even in the English fashion of lettering.

  Now Mel picked up Rube’s offering once again. All is one, Mel summed it up, his tone thoughtful. That’s the meaning, I think. That all that is and was and will be is one.

  “All is one. I guess I don’t understand,” said Jenna. After a moment she asked, “So, in death, does it mean we are one?”

  I think perhaps the poet means more than that, Jenna-mine. I think it refers to more than just humanity. I think he truly means “all” as in “everything”. All that was and is and will be. Mel grinned. As for being one in death, I think it would be in the same sense that all is one in life. One and yet apart? It is not a philosophy with which I’m familiar. When you join me perhaps we can find someone, a mystic like Rube, who will tell us about it?

  Jenna nodded. She dropped a verse she’d been reading and picked up Maria’s picture. Once again she felt tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. “Did I do this child a favor with my story, Mel?”

  She’ll be fine. And I believe she’ll remember you although perhaps the others won’t.

  “They are all so young. I think that is the hardest thing, as much as I want to come to you, be together again, the thought of not knowing how they’ll turn out, how they’ll live their lives, not knowing their loves and their fears…”

  Hush my love. You’ll know. And someday, of course, they’ll join us.

  Jenna nodded. “Just not soon, I hope and pray.” She yawned. “So very tired,” she said in something approaching a complaining voice.

  Mel chuckled. Not for long, my beloved. Not for long now…

  Jenna was nearly asleep when the door opened. She opened her eyes and turned her head, suppressed a weary sigh and then smiled at Serena and Roman, the last pair she and Mel had helped to find happiness. “Come in,” she said softly. “I’m not sleeping.”

  The couple, hand in hand, came to the bedside. Roman spoke. “We wanted to thank you again for helping us find happiness together.”

  “For making me grow up and see the idiocy of my behavior, he should say,” said Serena on a rueful note.

  “Hush. You were so very young when your father took his life. You were embarrassed and convinced you yourself must somehow make it possible for your sister to have a good life.”

  “Grandmother saw to that. There was, actually, nothing for me to do.”

  “Except to grow into the woman I knew you’d become,” said Roman.

  It was obviously an old argument. Jenna chuckled. “You had time to put into practice all those plans you and Rome made when little more than children yourselves. You did very well, Serena. The school you started has become widely known and those who came to you for instruction have all found excellent husbands who encourage them to take an active role in the world of the ton.”

  Serena grimaced. “Almost all. I’ve had my failures.”

  Jenna nodded. “But everyone has. How can one know how important it is that one do one’s best not to fail, if there is never a failure to show what can happen if one doesn’t strive to succeed? It is a paradox, is it not? And now the two of you are doing for boys what you, Serena, started for girls alone. You said earlier,” she added turning to Roman, “that you were building a new wing onto the back of the house, adding more space for additional students and more classrooms?”

  “I am. I am surprised at the number of students sent me from India although I suppose I should not be. We’ll keep the girl’s school smaller…”

  Serena interrupted, “Because,” she said, “I am not sent all that many girls. There are still too many parents who do not believe a girl should be educated beyond the traditional things such as fine handwork, watercolors, a little music and dancing. Oh and manners of course.” She grimaced.

  “But there are those who do believe and who do send you lucky daughters who will have a far richer life because of it,” said Jenna.

  Serena glanced at the bits of paper, some missed earlier that were still tied in pretty ribbons, most unrolled but slightly curving. She sighed. “There is nothing there from us. The letter asking for our contributions went astray.”

  “That’s all right.” Jenna pointed at the framed watercolor hanging over the fireplace. “I’ve that lovely painting of my sister that you did for me when we first knew you. I’m so glad Verity loaned us her kit-kat of her mother so you could do it. And at that same time Rome gave me some of the treasures he brought back from India. You gave me your contributions then, you see?” Jenna smiled, coaxing a smile from Serena. “And I do love the feel of this robe, you know. Such wonderful softness and the color very nearly unbelievable. I have wondered where the dyes came from.”

  “I don’t know but I saw it and thought of you.”

  “I love it.”

  “I’m very glad of it,” said Serena, feeling better.

  Roman squeezed his wife’s hand gently. “I think we’re tiring Jenna,” he said. “We love you, Jenna,” he added and leaned to kiss
her.

  Serena hesitated. She didn’t as easily show affection. She lifted Jenna’s hand and squeezed it gently as Rome had just done for her. “Yes, Jenna. You changed my life and you will never know how grateful I am.”

  Tell her we do know.

  Jenna looked to the other side of the bed and shook her head, turning back. She saw Serena’s mouth tighten, the young woman realizing Jenna believed she had once again interacted with the ghost who could not possibly exist. Jenna watched the struggle within the younger woman and was glad when Serena’s better nature won and she didn’t lecture. Jenna suppressed a yawn, her jaw tightening and her mouth tense.

  Roman repeated that they were tiring Jenna. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Jenna,” he said and, his arm around her waist, led Serena from the room.

  * * * * *

  The household slept late the morning after Boxing Day. It had been an exhausting time what with the parties for tenants and servants and then later the family celebrations. Rising one after another, the family wandered into the breakfast room in ones and twos, many yawning but all happy or at least content. Talk was unusually desultorily and lacked any effort at sprightliness.

  Terrance and Sarah, who were to depart that day, discussed how soon they might get away, given Nanny who insisted on routine whatever the wishes or needs of her charges’ parents. Jacob and Rome discussed the possibility of organizing a summer visit of those of Roman’s students who had nowhere to go, no relatives to take them in during the long vacation, to Jacob’s Yorkshire estate where he and Verity lived most of the year. Lady Mary and Rube quietly spoke of their plans for another trip overseas, this time to Van Diemen’s Land in the southern hemisphere. It had just occurred to Rube that their notion that they’d leave late in the summer would get them there during the far south’s winter and that was not what they wished. Could they, they were wondering leave sooner, reaching the island during their late summer and early fall?

  Serena, recalling that she had forgotten to ask her maid to begin packing, excused herself and, reaching the hall, started up the stairs to the bedroom she and her husband occupied. She’d use the bellpull there, calling the maid up and giving her directives. Reaching the bedroom floor she hesitated and then turned in the opposite direction, toward Jenna’s room. Very carefully she opened the door and peeked in. Jenna hadn’t slept much of the preceding day and was obviously exhausted by all the comings and goings of the family both then and during the preceding days of Christmas festivities. Serena was worried about her so didn’t wish to wake her if she slept.

  The door barely open, Serena listened. She heard nothing so widened the crack. She could see the end of Jenna’s bed where Jenna’s foot and legs made a faint ridge in the covers…but it wasn’t Jenna who caught her attention.

  Serena froze, staring, her eyes opened painfully wide.

  Standing at the end of the bed, casually leaning against the bedpost, his gaze never leaving the woman he loved, was the diaphanous form of a gentleman. A ghost. The ghost. The ghost who, ever since first hearing of him, Serena had insisted could not exist. A ghost who grinned, who was tense with anticipation…

  The ghostly figure turned its head. Smiled more broadly. Winked. And returned to staring at Jenna, waiting…obviously waiting, his excitement barely contained.

  Sarah’s body finally responded. She turned, running back down the stairs at a pace that endangered her, to say nothing of the barely conceived infant she didn’t know she carried within her. She reached the breakfast room out of breath, a worried footman coming along behind her, reaching her just as she threw open the door and announced, “He’s there. He’s standing at the end of her bed. He’s watching her. Watching Jenna. Waiting…”

  Lady Mary rose instantly. She glanced around at the others who sat frozen in their places, not quite comprehending. “My father, Serena? You saw him?”

  “He-he winked at me.” There was just a touch of outrage within the confusion in Serena’s tone.

  Mary grinned. “That’s my father all right.” Again she glanced around the table and her smile faded. Very quietly, she announced, “I fear it is time. I suspect my father is awaiting Jenna, that she’ll be joining him any minute now.” Even as she finished speaking Mary walked toward the door and gently moved Serena out of the way. She nodded at the footman who had followed Serena, worried by her hasty and dangerous descent of the stairs. The wide-eyed young man backed away and, sedately but quickly, Mary moved toward the stairs.

  Very suddenly, within the breakfast room, others realized what Mary meant. One after another they rose, shoving back chairs, hurrying to the door. Rome, his arm around his wife, was last, gently helping the stunned woman along with him.

  “Rome. A ghost. He-he was there. I saw him. But…”

  Rome smiled. “But there are no such things as ghosts? They’ve told you over and over you are wrong, Serena. I’m glad he revealed himself to you. The love between Jenna and the late earl is so very special. If you think about it, love such as theirs is proof that our love too, can be eternal.” He continued along the same lines and by the time he finished speaking they, the last to do so, entered Jenna’s bedroom, filling the space the others, clustered around the bed, had left for them.

  The ghost lifted a hand in greeting but never took his eyes from Jenna who lay on her back under a light cover, all that was needed in a room where the fire was never allowed to grow too low. Then, gently, the ghost walked through the bed as if it were not there, approaching Jenna. Very slowly, blinking but smiling, Jenna’s spirit separated from her body and sat up. Her hand reached for his aid and he clasped it, gently rising and pulling her upright to stand free before him. He opened his arms and her gossamer form stepped on nothing at all and into his embrace.

  There was no kiss, no excitement, merely a gladness that could be felt by those around the bed, a satisfaction, happiness, a very special feeling that, now, finally, all was well. The moment didn’t last long. The pair separated except where their hands joined, fingers twined, the clasp warm and loving. They turned, looked at each couple in turn, nodded and then the diaphanous figures rose a little higher, seemed to grow a trifle smaller…

  And, gradually, they disappeared.

  Those watching could never agree, quite, on precisely how they disappeared, or what, exactly, each saw. Some said the lovers seemed to grow smaller and smaller, receding into a sort of lovely light that enveloped them and into which they disappeared. Others said they rose still higher, seemed to float away, gradually growing filmier and lighter and were then gone. Lady Mary saw a sort of distant glowing gate through which the pair, growing smaller, walked. And Rube insisted they turned to each other, held hands, stared into each other’s eyes and simply faded away.

  But whatever had actually happened, each and every couple agreed that the lovers had met and were together, their love a lustrous rope of light binding them, a binding that would last throughout eternity.

  “It is good,” said Rube softly.

  “Very good,” said Mary just as quietly.

  “She’s…dead?” asked Serena, still having difficulty accepting what she’d seen, what she knew she’d seen but which was against everything she’d ever believed.

  “Dead? Looking so young and healthy?” Mary stepped nearer the bed and pulled the covers up over Jenna’s face. “I guess I’d say she has just begun to live, wouldn’t you? Or perhaps she’s begun to live all over again?” Though tears ran quietly down her cheeks, Mary smiled. “May we all know such love. May we remember that having it again and forever is ahead of us, that death is not the end.”

  The others nodded. Each, in their own personal and private silence made a prayer and a vow that it would be so. Then each couple quietly left the room.

  Jenna turned to her lover and smiled. So? What do we do now?

  Whatever we will, he said, chuckling.

  She looked around herself in wonder. Have you been here, then?

  He shook his head. This is all new to
me too, Jenna-mine.

  What would you like to do?

  Explore?

  Jenna frowned ever so slightly.

  Not explore?

  I’d like to find my sister, my niece. Your son?

  He grinned. You needn’t look far, I think. He thrust his chin toward distant figures drifting toward them, a laughing group of many people.

  Jenna gasped. So many! She turned to Mel.

  He laughed joyfully, picked her up and swung her around. Ah Jenna, yes. So very many who have gone before us. Come!

  Once again they held hands and this time ran as lightly toward those approaching as those others ran to them.

  About Jeanne Savery

  Jeanne Savery began writing when she stopped being a perpetual student. After a long apprenticeship, her first sale came the same year she turned fifty.

  She has two kids, three grandchildren, and a wonderfully supportive husband. Hubby has itchy feet, so the family traveled whenever he found funding. Savery has lived at both ends and in the middle of the U.S.A. as well as in England, Australia, Germany, and India and has traveled here and there in Europe.

  It goes without saying that whenever she and her husband leave home a laptop travels with her.

  Jeanne welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  The Ghost and Romance 1: The Ghost and Jacob Moorhead