Raleigh … How would she feel if she knew I was only months away from marrying her murderer?The thought made me sick.
I feigned illness when the day came, only emerging from my room in the early afternoon long enough to coax Enrique into serving dinner in my room.Not that it was hard to pretend.Grief gnawed at my stomach as I stared at the crimson canopy above my bed, but it wasn’t grief alone.There was a painful tugging, like my heart was being dragged down, and at the same time a strange lightness that was increasingly familiar to me that only made the tugging stronger.
I rolled over, trying to block out the emotion.The grief I could tolerate; it was an old friend at this stage.The guilt felt so much worse.
By the time Enrique finally knocked I still wasn’t sure I could eat.But when I opened the door to receive him, it wasn’t Enrique,but Raleigh holding the tray with my dinner.He wore a black frock coat I’d never seen before that was so new you could almost see the tailor’s marks.It suited him, as much as I hated to admit it.
‘Enrique said you were unwell.’He seemed to find great interest in the doorframe.
‘It’s … passing,’ I said.I didn’t know what to do.What to say.He was the very reason I didn’t want to eat downstairs.How could I possibly do my mother’s memory justice when he … Not today.Not him.But when I opened my mouth to curse him out and banish him the words wouldn’t come.
‘You can come in.’I stood aside to let him past, wondering what on earth I was doing as I watched him set my tray down on the dresser.He looked about for a second chair, found none, and perched on the edge of my unmade bed.He had no business being there, surrounded by my rumpled sheets in his pristine finery, and I again told myself I should send him away.Instead, I sat down at my dresser.
‘Am I correct in assuming,’ Raleigh started, painfully slowly, teasing out each syllable one by one, ‘today—’
‘Stop,’ I said.Then when Raleigh snapped his mouth shut, I conceded.‘Yes.’
Raleigh swallowed.Took a breath.‘Did anyone ever—’
‘Please don’t talk about it,’ I interrupted.‘Not today.I can’t talk about this withyou.’
Raleigh looked at his knees, lips pursed tightly shut.I let him simmer, focusing more attention than necessary on uncovering my now lukewarm dinner.If he’d come straight from the kitchen it wouldn’t be this cold.How long did he have to spend convincing Enrique to let him go in his stead?I glanced back at him, still staring at his knees, and the heavy guilt felt light again.Some food was better cold, I supposed.
As I lifted my fork to my mouth, Raleigh spoke again.It was barely more than a whisper, so soft I thought I’d imagined it.I almost wished I had.‘I’m sorry.’
I set the fork down, trying not to let his words disintegrate me.I wondered if I could pretend I hadn’t heard him, but I’d already hesitated too long.‘I’ve told you before this isn’t something you can apologise for.’I turned to him.
He was still avoiding my eye.I sighed, abandoning my dinner to approach him.He flinched, then visibly relaxed when I simply sat beside him.
‘I said I was sick so I wouldn’t have to see you today,’ I admitted, leaning back with my hands flat against the mattress.
I felt him tense.‘Would you like me to go?’he asked.
‘No,’ I said before I could catch myself.I clamped my teeth together, shaking my head to clear the jumble of emotion clouding my judgement.While I knew this would be a normal day without him, I could no longer picture him as the source of all my suffering.I knew he was a murderer, but I no longer understood how the murderer could be him.How could the Raleigh who would bring me dinner when I was grieving be the same Raleigh who caused the grief?
And why, today of all days, couldn’t I make myself hate him anymore?
My eyes began to burn.I tucked my chin to my chest, fighting to keep my emotions at bay, hoping my hair would block him from seeing whatever did manage to spill.Raleigh sighed, but kept his eyes politely averted.He placed one hand on the mattress.His little finger barely brushed mine, then lingered, and remained.
I sniffed, now in desperate need of a handkerchief, but as much as I loathed myself for it, I couldn’t tear my hand away.‘It was so much easier to hate you from afar,’ I admitted.
‘Is … that a compliment?’Raleigh asked.
‘Do you think I would compliment you in this situation?’I sniffed again and Raleigh tugged an ornamental handkerchief from his pocket.He moved as if to wipe my tears, stopped, then tucked it into my hand instead.I closed my fingers around the silk, resisting the urge to laugh.He was so emotionally clumsy, but I suppose we both were.No one with normally functioning emotions would allow herself into this situation.
‘Most people say I’m easier to love from afar, so this is new.’
I thought I’d misheard him at first, then couldn’t help but choke on my tears when I realised I hadn’t.‘Who says that?’
‘Women … men … people who aren’t you.’
I wiped my nose.‘You don’t know anyone else.’
‘I have plenty of pen pals, thank you, Clara.People generally like me better when I keep my distance.’
I couldn’t imagine that.The Raleigh I knew from a distance was the putrid devil responsible for ruining my life; this Raleigh was someone who would cast his title aside and play servant to comfort me on the hardest day of the year.The spot where our fingers rested together began to burn.The pain in my chest ached anew.
‘I suppose that’s why you had to resort to abduction.’
