An uncomfortable silence lingered between them. Eliza wasn’t sure what to say next.
Charles scrutinized her face as if he saw the struggle there. “It’s a lot to consider. Take however long you wish. There are no other prospects for the position, I assure you. Please say you’ll at least entertain the thought. I’d spoil you, Eliza. I’d treat you leagues better than he ever has.”
Charles lifted her hand to his mouth. As he did, a surge of unexpected vengeance rolled through her. She thought of Malcolm with his whore in London. He was probably there now, slaking his sorrows in her bed. Eliza shook with anger at the thought, remembering how he’d shamed her that day in his study when she’d tried to seduce him, comparing her to a prostitute. All the times he’d lied to her, then made her question her own mind. He’d never do it again.
The alcohol had gone to her head, just enough.
Before she could change her mind, she pulled Charles to her by the lapel and locked her lips to his, taking his breath as she kissed him, in full view of anyone who happened to be watching. It was a brutal, violent kiss, full of tongues and teeth. Charles returned her affections ruthlessly, his hands grasping and pulling at her as if possessed. When she broke the kiss, her lips felt so raw they could bleed.
He drew back to look at her, his eyes clouded with lust. “I knew it,” he growled. “You and I are the same, after all. I shall take your kissas a promise and meet you at the platform later tonight, eager as a bridegroom.”
Nothing.
That’s what she’d felt when she kissed Charles. Nothing but her own bitterness, anger, and regret.
And now there would be consequences. The scandal sheets would be flooded with talk of her salacious behavior. Malcolm would know, and he’d be well within his rights to divorce her. Well within his rights to ruin her. Their legal covenant had been broken the moment she threw herself into Charles’s arms.
And then there was the venereal disease. What if Malcolmhadbeen infected when he lay with her, and her recent nausea and dizziness were the first of much uglier symptoms to come?
Her mother’s words mocked.Who will want you now?
She wilted against the red brick of the hotel’s façade, her vision blurred by tears.
Curious passersby stared at her. Some laughed. She could only imagine how she looked—her face streaked with kohl, her hair speckled with snow, frizzing up like a charwoman’s. She stumbled back to her room, her head throbbing with her drunkenness. Instead of packing to join Charles, she ordered up a magnum of champagne and drank it, wishing she had laudanum instead. As the night grew long, she thrashed on her bed, still in her evening gown, her shoes leaving muddy streaks on the white eiderdown. When she woke, hours later, her own vomit cold on the coverlet, she sprung from the bed. Disgusting. Wouldn’t Maman be proud?
But no. Even on Eliza’s best days, her mother had never been proud of her. With every childish attempt Eliza had made to court her loveand attention, she had only shown criticism. If only she’d tried harder, it might have made a difference. Perhaps.
Too late for that now.
She’d failed at everything that ever mattered.
Eliza ran a bath and stripped off her clothing, leaving it on the honeycomb-tiled floor. She climbed into the steaming tub, hugging her knees. In the soap dish, alongside a pristine bar of lemon verbena soap, was a cut-throat razor, its blade closed. It was as if a silent wish had been granted. Eliza picked it up, opening it with wet fingers. What was stopping her, truly? It was a way out of the mess she’d created of her life, once and for all. She could put an end to all her memories and failings with two strokes of a sharp blade.
If she did this, even with a practiced hand, it would be painful—she remembered that well. The water would sting and burn. There would be a slow slide into unconsciousness. And then? She held the blade up to the light, watching water bead and drip from the edge.
How silly she’d been to think she could ever be happy. That she’d ever deserved love, or an easy life.
CHAPTER 38
Eliza was a girl again. She was running hand in hand with Albert, his golden curls bouncing with every jogging step. In the distance, the blue ellipse of the drowning pond glimmered beneath the noonday sun. Albert let go of her hand and bolted for the water. Eliza raced after him, grasping for his collar, his sleeve—anywhere she might find purchase. Her fingers closed on air. The old helplessness rushed through her, and though she tried to scream, her throat choked with silence. He splashed through the shallows, laughing. And like he had every other time before, he disappeared.
Eliza ran to the edge of the water. The pond was as clear as a mirror, and Albert was lying at the bottom, his eyes closed. Eliza dove in, shattering the surface like glass. She clawed her way deeper, the glass-water tearing at her skin as billowing clouds of her own blood obscured Albert from view.
Suddenly, someone drew a curtain over the sun and the darkness around her became absolute. Eliza thrashed and reached out, blind, her mouth open in a soundless scream. The figure on the bottom of the pool had morphed. Instead of Albert, it was now a pale girl clothed in a sodden calico dress, her coppery hair floating away from her face in wavering coils. Her lips were purple. Her eyes were open. Lifeless.
It was Eliza, as she’d been at twelve.
She dove into the darkness, fighting against the shards of razor-sharp water. She grasped the girl she once was by the wrists and pulled. The void clung to the young Eliza’s body as if it were a metal filing on a magnet.Please,she prayed.Please don’t die. It wasn’t your fault. I love you. You must live. You must.
One by one, a million stars pierced the darkness, each pinprick of light ringing like a bell. She was no longer underwater, but a part of the sky.
Eliza was flying.
“Eliza!”
She bolted awake as if breaching from water, her fingers clawing at the air, her mouth open in a soundless scream.
“Breathe, my darling. I’m here.” Malcolm pulled her tightly to his chest, rocking her as she cried. “It’s all right. I’m here. You gave me such a fright.”
