Burnt Offerings
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Bleak House
Copyright: Charles Dickens' estate/BBC
She could not have kept them forever. It was only a matter of time until someone found out. It might as well be Tulkinghorn, she tells herself grimly, as someone else. At least Tulkinghorn has Sir Leicester's interests at heart. However, he has also made it transparently clear that he considers Sir Leicester too good for her, and in her heart of hearts, she agrees. Dedlock pride notwithstanding, the elderly baronet has always treated her with more courtesy and kindness than she deserves.
If the lawyer should retaliate against her for sending Rosa away, let him at least have as little proof as possible. She will burn James' letters sooner than see them read by contemptuous eyes.
The twenty-year-old papers, ribbon and all, are devoured by the hearthfire in a matter of seconds. She watches with her hands clasped, motionless as a statue.
Her face is burning and her hands are cold as she picks up Esther's handkerchief. Common sense orders her to throw it in after the letters, but omething else, something deep and dark inside her, stays her hand.
/
She could not have kept them forever. They were only a farewell gift from a friend – no, not even that, a brief acquaintance. He will have forgotten all about her by now, and thank goodness for that. Her new face has caused enough revulsion in men's eyes to last a lifetime.
Besides, what if Ada had found them and made a lighthearted jest of them? What if she had let it slip to Mr. Jarndyce? He would believe these dry, dead flowers meant something to her. This dear, kind man, too good for her by far , would believe his future wife was still –
No. She would not have him believe such a thing for all the world.
And so Mr. Woodcourt's roses crackle and crumble to ashes in the candle flame, filling the air with a bittersweet echo of fragrance. She sweeps her desk clean with a trembling hand, trying to tell herself it is of no consequence.
Still, that night she dreams of a coldly beautiful face in the mirror, a glass coffin, dark eyes smiling down at her, and a touch to call the dying back to life.