The Crimson Inkwell

by Kenneth A Baldwin

  I reached out my hands and brushed the plants around me, breathing in another crisp lungful of air and smelling nature. It smelled so different than Dawnhurst. It smelled more like home, somehow. Like my father. The air was peaceful. I felt like I could spend every morning in this spot. If I married Edward, I would make it a ritual, maybe even ride out with a book and think. What a wonderful life it would be.

  But, I couldn’t stay here. No. I wished the field and the morning sun could have changed my mind, but something quiet, so unlike the voice of the magical anger inside of me, spurred me on and solidified my decision. I did not know what lay ahead, but I was sure of something. Whatever had saved me from the darkness last night led past Edward, not to him.

  Even if my balcony date with Edward had been nothing short of a fairy tale. Even if his eyes were warm and his kiss gentle. Even if I had felt so safe in his arms. It’s so easy to pine after the roads we pass as destiny whisks us along. This beautiful glimpse of a new life felt like the beginning of a whole different story, one that I hoped to read one day. But, for the time being, Fernmount was not my final destination.

  I felt like a woman looking over her burned down home the morning after a fire. I had spent my whole life trying to make something of my education. My father had sacrificed for it, and I owed him a debt, but the fog creature had it wrong. My father didn’t care if I won the Golden Inkwell. He didn’t care if I became a writer at all.

  Perhaps he just wanted to show me that my potential to achieve wonderful things had no limit. I had learned to read and write, not to win prestige for our family name, but to become something more than I could be before, to inspire others to reach for the same.

  Fame and recognition was not the goal; it was an obstacle.

  At the end of that trail lay the woman my father wanted me to become. That was a woman who could deserve an Edward Thomas. That was a woman who could deserve an Anna Winthrop.

  Or was it Anna Rigby by now?

  The gentle sound of horses’ hooves on the soft earth stirred me from my musings. I looked around for a place to hide. I wasn’t eager to make my first acquaintance with the servants or someone from a nearby town while wearing my nightgown and robe, but there was nowhere to go. The grass wasn’t even long enough to hide me if I had laid down.

  I didn’t have long to rue my lot, though. Through the mist, I saw Edward’s gallant figure on horseback. I breathed a sigh of relief before remembering the news I would have to give him. Maybe I would have preferred running into someone from town after all.

  He slowed to a trot before stopping ten meters from me and dismounting. Apparently, he had an itch to get out this morning as well. Under his riding coat was a hastily donned shirt, untucked over his trousers and boots.

  “This is a surprise,” he said while he got down.

  “I’m afraid I’m a bit of a dreamer,” I replied. “The picturesque setting you’ve brought me to has me feeling like a little girl reading her first novel.”

  He smiled. “For Fernmount’s flaws, I never can resist the morning, before the world has woken up, even if it is a little cold.”

  I nodded and folded my arms. Neither of us spoke, and both of us made random eye contact before recommitting to a thorough examination of the woods or the grass below us. When we did speak, we both went at once, then stopped again.

  “Please, you first,” Edward said. I shook my head. I knew my words weren’t going to be welcome to him. I wanted to savor his affection for as long as I could.

  “Very well, then,” he continued. “I wanted to apologize to you about last night. My behavior at dinner was unsupportable. I hope you don’t believe that I often quarrel with my mother that way.”

  “Of course not,” I said. Though, secretly, I would hardly blame him if he did.

  “Second, I hope that I didn’t take advantage of you while you were in a vulnerable state. I’m only now registering that your day must have been the epitome of shock. I can’t imagine what it must be like to leave your home at the drop of a hat and under such turbulent circumstances. I fear the kisses I stole from you were unjustly gained.”

  I wanted to tell him the only thing that was unjust about his kiss was that it hadn’t happened weeks ago and lasted much longer.

  “I also pray that you don’t think I said what I did last night because of my own troubled mind. I wish I could have told you sooner. I lacked courage, and I found it easier to postpone, perhaps indefinitely, considering I believed you to be engaged.”

  “You have so many regrets for a man who claims to be in love,” I said with a sad smile.

  “I think I’m discovering that love is regret. It’s regret for every imperfection and missed opportunity.”

  I walked closer to him and took his hands.

  “You do have a way with words.”

  He laughed, a scoff, but the warmth from his hands radiated through me. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Edward, I’m afraid I have a regret of my own.” I felt his hands go limp.

  “Please, Luella,” he stuttered. “If this has to do with my father, respect the wishes I expressed last night.”

  I put my hand to his face. “You told me you wanted the truth piece by piece over a lifetime. Accept this first piece as a promise that more will follow.” He looked puzzled and, for the first time since I’d met him, afraid. I put my forehead to his, like we’d done the night before. “I can’t stay here.”

  He exhaled forcefully before taking in quick breaths, as if he was going to say something and stopped himself several times. Finally, he stepped back.

  “Is it my mother?”

  “No, though I wouldn’t be surprised if she were happy to see me leave. And it’s not you either. You are the man I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl. You regret not sharing your feelings with me earlier. Well, I regret any choice I ever made to separate us. Because of those choices I made, I have to separate from you now.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “I don’t expect you to.” I searched for words. He didn’t want to know everything, but it was time for at least one truth to come out. “I’m not well.”

  “We can send for a doctor,” he said quickly, desperately.

  “There’s no doctor that can help. It’s one of the byproducts of that horrible magic. It’s like some type of parasite. I constantly fight a feeling of rage, something that was never there before. At times, it becomes too strong for me, and I lash out in terrible episodes. Rebecca can confirm this.”

  “What kind of episodes?”

  “It’s like I’ve lost complete control. I—well, once I attacked Rebecca.”

  “Good heavens.” He let go of my hands. Why that? He didn’t have to draw away from me in disgust.

  “Forgive me, Edward,” I willed myself on, “but similar feelings nearly surfaced last night after you left the dining room table.”

  His mouth hung open, and he searched the air around me, as if he were inspecting my aura. I wondered what he saw, what combinations and fears his mind concocted.

  “Is there no cure?” he asked.

  “None that I know of. But, Bram, the man Rebecca mentioned from the carnival, has promised me he will find one.” At the mention of Bram’s name, Edward turned around and rubbed down his horse’s neck. I jolted forward, positioning myself between him and the animal, trying to force him to stay with me until he heard it all. “He has studied these things for many years, and he believes he can find something.” I placed my hand on his forearm.

  “I need to find him, so I can assist his efforts before the malady takes me. It’s getting worse all the time.”

  He turned and walked several paces from me before turning around with a grimace.

  “So, you have to leave me in order to be with this other man,” he surmised.

  “I need to be cured, so I can be yours. Completely yours,” I said. “I can’t have this hanging over me. You deserve better than that, and I want to give more t
o you.” I walked after him. I grabbed his reluctant hands and fought my way into his eyeline.

  “How long will it take?” he asked.

  “I have no way of knowing. A month? A year?”

  “How can I believe this?”

  “One piece at a time,” I said. He hung his head, the weight of his own words pulling him down, but I felt his hands slowly find their strength again. “Edward, please. Trust me.”

  He kissed my hand awkwardly before letting go and stepping formally backward.

  “So begins our journey, then.” His smile was so sad, I wanted to kiss it off his face forever. I stepped toward him. He stepped backward. “If it’s as you say, it’s time for action.”

  Now it was my turn to hang my head. What did I expect? Perhaps I was just tired of people telling me what I tried so hard to ignore. I nodded. When I looked back up at him, I saw the man I met months ago. Detective Edward Thomas. Fearless. Strong-willed. Powerful. Inspiring.

  Seeing him there, strong in his vulnerability, standing beside his horse, shrouded in mist, made me feel for the first time in a long, long time that I wasn’t alone. With him behind me, I felt hope that we could conquer this. That we would conquer this.

  “What do you need from me?” he asked.

  An hour later, he was leading a horse, packed with clothing and supplies, to the edge of the property.

  “I wish you would reconsider,” he said. He had spent the past hour trying to convince me to let him come along. We had run back to the house, quietly, to prepare everything. He found Rose, but no one else knew a thing about my departure, the mysterious woman that came to Fernmount for a night.

  “I insist that it is unwise,” I responded. I was dressed now like a common woman from the nearby village, a loose, hanging white dress, cinched at the waist, a long coat. My sister would have cringed, turning her nose up at the aesthetic style, but Rose had been kind enough to lend it to me. I had promised her I would return it in one piece. As wonderful as the gown from the night before was, I felt much more at home like this. We’d also scrounged up a large hooded cape, better to hide my face.

  “I disagree.”

  “Please, don’t tempt me,” I said. It was hard enough to be the strong-willed naysayer. If he pressed it, I would give in. I was filled with fear for the road ahead. I was a city girl in foreign territory, trying to unravel a mystery larger than I could understand. But, his mother needed him, and after my near outbreak the night before and my unchristian animosity toward her, I couldn’t deprive her of her son’s strength and support.

  We arrived at the end of the dirt road we’d been walking. Clouds overhead blanketed the sky, filling the air with the warmth of a brewing storm. Behind us, on the hill above, Fernmount stood like a beacon, inviting me back. It was the most beautiful place I had ever been, the place where I had received the best news of my life. I would come back. I would return this dress to Rose. I would spend my life dedicated to Edward’s happiness. This was just the first step on that journey.

  “Your mother needs you. You need to be here for your father’s memorial.”

  He nodded grimly and handed me the reigns.

  “Stay to the road. Don’t travel at night. There’s a man in the village named William who is a dear friend of mine. He will harbor you. Take a fake name. Cooper will still be searching for you.”

  He grabbed me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes intensely.

  “Be smart and safe. Come home to me,” he concluded.

  I did my best to nod, the weight of farewell crashing down with the reality of the situation. I could be brave like him. I could at least try.

  We embraced then. I squeezed him so hard, hard enough to make it last for however long we’d be apart. Letting go was the end, and I wasn’t ready. I could not have possibly prepared myself for a goodbye.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed before he pulled away. He helped me onto my horse and gave it a slap. I turned my head backward to watch as long as I dared. The tears came now, quiet, peaceful, and inevitable. Edward stood on the road, a sentinel, a fixture of the house. I would return to this.

  When he had grown smaller, and I could no longer distinguish him from the other features of the landscape, I looked ahead at the road to come. I could see the sun cresting over the hilly horizon. I heard the birds and breathed in the world. A skylark passed overhead. The world called its great challenge to me in every blade of grass. I was finally ready to respond honestly, and faintly, ever so faintly, I saw the magical particles on the trail ahead of me. I was headed toward my father.

  I was only on the road a half-hour before I heard a horse behind me at full gallop.

  “I’m sorry, but this is ridiculous,” Edward said, pulling up beside me. “My mother will have to manage.”

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