A/N: I totally meant to get this up last Thursday. Obviously, I failed miserably. So, accept my apologies (or don't), and read the latest chapter of this scintillating novella. Will Lizzie tie the knot? Will Casey and Derek be happy? What about poor Edwin? Is this going to turn into a Lizwin story? Is the epigraph actually related to this chapter? Well, go find out!
Read, and enjoy, and for goodness sakes, leave a review. It's not that difficult.
Enjoy!
Emily
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the familiar characters. I am merely a writer who wishes to play. Err…that didn't really come out quite right. Ah well. Don't sue. I'm in college :)
0o0o0o0o0
"She has known everything, borne and suffered everything, lost everything and shed her last tear…She no longer seeks to escape from anything, nor does she fear anything. Let the heavens fall, let the tides of the sea engulf her, and what can it matter, she has had her fill."
-Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
0o0o0o0o0
"Must we wait to marry?" Lizzie McDonald asked once again as she walked arm in arm with Peter Hopkins in late September. He chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"You don't mean that," he said.
"Oh, but I do! You really haven't any idea how much work Mother has been putting us to in order to prepare! You'd think it was a wedding for a grand duchess, not a normal girl. I think she's making up for not throwing Casey a proper wedding…" She trailed off, and Peter took the opportunity to draw her closer to him.
"Indulge her," he said. "It will be all over soon, and then, we will be man and wife."
"At last," Lizzie sighed.
"Yes, at last," he agreed.
"Lizzie!" The couple stopped at the unmistakable sound of Edwin Venturi's voice. Since their engagement, it seemed to Lizzie that Edwin had become distant from her, offering up only the most reluctant congratulations when her engagement was announced. Now, however, with a smile upon his boyish face, he resembled the companion of her childhood, and she gave him a graceful smile.
"Why, Edwin, we were just walking about. Would you care to join us?" Purposefully ignoring the frown that flashed across her fiancé's countenance, and the responding glare from Edwin, she offered up her other arm for him to take. "There," she exclaimed, "now I have my two favorite men right near me, as it should be. Now, play nice with one another. It is a lovely day, and I want no fighting, as you men seem to do so well."
"I have no desire to quarrel with Mr. Venturi," Peter said.
"Nor I with Mr. Hopkins," echoed Edwin.
"Well, that is quite good," she said, glancing at each from under her dark lashes. "I'm far too weak to break you apart should you attempt to fight, and I'm not sure that my delicate constitution could take you hating one another."
Peter laughed. "My dear, you are anything but weak in either mind or body."
"Oh, but I am. Tell him, Edwin. Tell him how weak and helpless I was as a child."
"You only appear helpless," he returned. With a dramatic sigh, she swatted at him playfully.
"Well, I am delicate. And Peter, you must be aware that if you treat me awfully, I'll have Edwin come after you. You'd hurt him, right, Edwin?"
Edwin looked over her head at Peter. His mouth pulled tightly into a frown, he gave the man a subtle nod. "Yes, Mr. Hopkins. On this matter, she is quite right." He stood silent for a few uncomfortable moments before disengaging himself from her grasp. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I must take leave of you. Lizzie, I hope to see you home for supper." Turning toward Peter, he tipped his hat. "Mr. Hopkins."
"Mr. Venturi," the other man replied.
"He's been so odd lately," Lizzie said once he had disappeared from her curious eyes.
"You don't say," Peter muttered, glancing once more over his shoulder to see if the younger man was still within hearing range.
Oblivious, she continued her monologue. "He was always so cheery when we were little, but now, he seems so distant suddenly. Oh, of course I understand why, to an extent, and I'll not tell even you. But even upon hearing of my engagement he was sullen and so brooding. You're a man, Peter. You tell me why he would act this way."
"Perhaps he's in love with you," Peter murmured. Lizzie stopped, a gloved hand flying up to cover her mouth as she gasped.
"Peter! I may lack the intuition of some women, but I am quite certain that I would know if he were in love with me. We women have a good feel for such things, you know."
"I must say, dear, that in all of my dealings with women, I have found that such feelings are generally wrong," he interrupted, laughing.
"Hush, you. That may be, but I know Edwin, and I know his feelings. He is like a brother to me-is a brother, really-and his feelings do not transcend the realm of brotherhood. I'll ask you to be more considerate when speaking of him, for he has been my dearest friend. Indeed, you and he are the only two who know me so completely and well, and perhaps he more so than you." She had dropped his arm, and turned now, her hands on her small waist and her chin stubbornly jutting out. Peter nodded solemnly.
"I'm quite sorry for even having that thought," said he. His smirk, however, belied his words. Lizzie tossed her head in defiance.
"No, you're not. And I'm not speaking until you and he can put aside your silly issues," she said.
"Are you really that vexed with me?" he questioned lightly. Lizzie turned away from him in response.
"I am sorry for upsetting your delicate sensibilities," he chortled. She looked back at him, her eyes narrowed into a glare.
"Mr…"
"Mr! Am I to be a Mr. for now on?" he exclaimed, clutching his chest as though in distress. Despite herself, Lizzie's lips turned upwards for a moment before she fixed her expression once more into a mask of indifference.
"Mr. Hopkins, should you continue speaking of my relations with such carelessness, than yes, it will be Mr. for some time. I don't understand this animosity between you men, but I'll not have it. I've told you that you and he are the best friends I have. I fully intend on having Edwin over to our home as often as he likes. And," she added as he opened his mouth to protest, "you will not have anything to say about that."
He laughed, and they walked on.
0o0o0o0
A week later, Lizzie found herself alone with Edwin. He had been making himself scarce as of late, even more so following the walk with Lizzie and Peter the previous week. Edwin was not a man who strived to be seen, most unlike his brother. Like his father, Edwin was a man of lofty ambition and of a sensible nature. His youthful cunningness had given way to a more subdued nature, which suited Lizzie's natural calm. This news had, however, produced a change in his companion. She was suddenly outgoing in her actions, glowing and flirtatious, happier than he had ever seen her. The knowledge that he could not protect her from things any longer, that she was suddenly, finally, changed by the world around her, scared him, made him nervous. Edwin did not care for change in general, and this particular change filled him with a sense of dread.
As it is so often the case, he therefore attempted to distance himself from the object of these feelings. He was a studious man, hopeful in his goal of leaving the town for higher schooling, and he thus threw himself into his work. Still, Lizzie had always held a strange power over him, and when she finally requested that he walk with her, he found that he could not refuse her.
"Now Edwin," she said as they started out, "I don't want to play any feminine evasive games with you. I want to know why you've been hurting me so as of late."
"Hurting you?" he exclaimed. "How have I been hurting you, my dear Lizzie? You're so happy and cheerful now that I should think you immune to hurt."
"Edwin! You don't mean that, do you?" Something about his tone had scared her greatly; he seemed no longer the boy she had known, but a man, a distant stranger. In truth, his attempts to distance himself had worked all-to-well, and he had succeeded in almost creating an entirely different personality.
"I'm not entirely certain what you mean. You speak as though I've offended you," he said.
"Well, you have! You're acting so cold, Edwin, more like your brother than you. I don't like it, not at all. Are you angry at me? I don't know what I would have done to deserve it, and I'm sure you're being too sensitive, but do tell me!"
His countenance softened at her entreaty, and for the first time in weeks, he gently took up her little hand in his own and pressed it to his lips. "Lizzie, I haven't been vexed at you. You have been a perfect delight lately. I can't quite say what is the matter with me; perhaps it is that Mr. Hopkins. I don't like him, Liz, I don't like him at all."
"Why not? He is a good man, so much like you, really."
"He hurt you terribly, Lizzie. Do you not remember how changed you were when he left you?" Edwin shook his head. "I'm not a very confrontational man, as you well know. However, there are some things that I feel I can protect you from. Men like that are one such thing. Ah, don't protest. Even you need protection from time to time," he finished. Lizzie looked down briefly, then looked back up to meet his eyes.
"So I take it you are the reason many a suitor has left?" she questioned. He blushed, and she nudged him playfully. " 'Tis all right; there was only one suitor I really cared for, and now, he is to be mine forever."
Edwin stiffened at her words, his expression once again a mask of indifference. Lizzie sighed.
"Oh, Edwin, don't be like that! He left, if you must know, to make a name for himself. He wouldn't take me because he knew that London is no place for a girl to live, unless she is well-established and well-off. My pain was the fruit of my folly. It was a time of weakness for me, Edwin. His actions were merely to help me, not to hurt," she explained. "You care for me, so surely you understand his desire to protect me!" She took his hands in hers once more and held them, looking up at him with a desperate plea upon her face. "You do understand, don't you?" she asked once more. "Edwin! Say something!"
Finally, he seemed to relax somewhat, no longer tensed with fury. "I do understand, Lizzie."
She exhaled in relief. "Oh, thank goodness! Now you and Peter can be good friends because you understand each other. Oh, this will be wonderful for all of us. I've already told Peter that we will have an extra room in our house just for you. And you will use it, Edwin Venturi. By God, you'll use it."
He smiled down tenderly at the girl. "Of course I'll use it. But, perhaps first I ought to talk with Mr. Hopkins first, just to ensure that this whole affair is settled. There are some things that I am sure he'd like to say to me, and that I'd like to say to him. Oh, no, nothing angry, of course. We shall behave like civilized men."
"I will expect nothing less. Oh, it's good to have you back to your old self," she sighed, linking her arm in his. "You know, Peter said the strangest thing when I spoke with him about you the other day. He seems to believe that you are in love with me! Of course, I told him he was being silly, but I don't think he'd believe it. But now, once you explain everything to him, he'll understand, and he'll like you more as well."
Edwin stiffened imperceptibly, but relaxed once more when she placed her hand upon his own. He had, despite himself, forgiven her, and felt now that he would do anything to keep himself in her good graces.
0o0o0o0
Edwin and Peter dined at the local inn a fortnight later. As they took their seats, they silently appraised one another, each eying the other as though he were a foe to be fought. In Lizzie's absence, they did not feign camaraderie, put on a façade of toleration.
"Lizzie told me that you wished for this meeting," Peter said at length, his words so soft that Edwin had to strain to hear them over the jovial atmosphere.
"I thought it best that we come to some sort of arrangement, for her sake," Edwin responded. They were silent once more, as is the habit of men. Where women will chat in their nervousness about the most trivial of matters, the man will stare at his foe in times of tension, neither speaking, allowing a heavy silence to fall between them. But, both men knew that it was not time to allow for the silence.
"I don't believe we have ever spoken to one another without Lizzie's supervision," Peter suddenly said. "Man to man, I mean. Of course, there were those lovely letters that you sent me."
"Which, Mr. Hopkins, you continued to ignore."
Peter nodded. "I was hopeful that you would be good enough to perhaps show her them, or tell her that I had written."
"I saw no reason to. I felt that you were of no use to her, and that she was better on her own, finding a man more…reliable," Edwin replied.
"A man such as yourself, I would imagine."
Edwin started, his dark eyes narrowing as he met a cocky smirk. "Leave my personal interests out of this," he warned.
"Of course. I am quite reliable, though, as you must see. I did promise her to come back, and I did. Surely she has told you the reason that I had to leave?"
Edwin let out a humorless snort. "She did. In fact, she explained it in such a way as to make her seem like an utter fool, and you a God of sorts. She explained it all, Mr. Hopkins, and in a very neat little way."
"Well, then, as you ought to know, Lizzie is not one to tell things in exaggerated ways. She is quite the new woman, in such respects."
Edwin nodded in reluctant agreement. "I know that, Mr. Hopkins, and if she says that you meant only the best for her, then I must believe it to be true."
Peter took a sip of his watered ale, as though considering a proper response. "Than why do you not care for me, Mr. Venturi? Why the animosity between you and I? I have my suspicions, you see, and from the way you look at me now, I can see that you know what they are. Tell me, am I right?"
"You had best stay away from such a dangerous topic, Mr. Hopkins. I have seen many a man take advantage of good women. I have seen her sister ravaged by my brother, seen what happens when a wild bird is caged. It is a depressing sight, one that I do not wish for Lizzie."
Peter nodded, his suspicions all but confirmed by the other man's careful use of words. "I see. I suppose that it will be of little use assuring you that my intentions are quite true," he said at length.
Edwin nodded.
"But," Peter continued, "should we not behave like civilized men, not like strangers?"
"I think that perhaps it would be best if we did act like strangers, Mr. Hopkins," Edwin returned. Peter took another sip of ale, considering this.
"Very well. But, for her sake, I hope that we might one day embrace as brothers, rather than as enemies."
"Of course."
And thus ended their conversation. Nothing had changed; with men, it seldom does. Peter would not speak to Lizzie of his beliefs in Edwin's love for her, nor would he think anything more of it. Yet, it gave him a sense of pride to know that others were yearning for what he had, for the woman that would soon be his wife.
And Edwin did not think at all, or so he tried. In only a few months, he seemed to have acquired the ability of indifference, just as his brother had.
0o0o0o0
She sat perfectly still, her back erect, hands clasped, head bowed. The fire had long gone out, and the room was chilled by the damp November atmosphere. Derek looked around the room, trying to ascertain any certain cause of his wife's apparent madness. As he approached her, she moved one hand down to caress her growing stomach, her touches hesitant. When he placed his hand upon her shoulder, she did not look up, but said, "Do you think she would have liked a sister?"
Derek didn't respond. She continued, "It is so nice to have a little sister, don't you agree? Char…she would have enjoyed it." Her other hand fell limply at her side as she glanced up at her husband. "Do you know what day it is today?"
"I do."
"She was lying right there," Casey continued, as though Derek had said nothing. "Right there. She was so peaceful, too. And light. When I held her, how light she was! It was as though she wasn't even real."
"It was for the best that what happened happened," he said stiffly. "'Tis of no use dwelling upon events of the past."
Finally, Casey looked up at him, her blue eyes wide, her mouth forming a small 'o' of surprise. "How can you say such things?" she asked. "She was my baby!" she cried, hunching forward and letting her head fall to the table, sobs wracking her body.
"And I was her father," he replied, just as passionately. "You'd best not forget that, either. She was my daughter," he repeated, softer, as though he had suddenly come to some grand realization.
With herculean effort, she lifted her head slightly, revealing a reddened face, sticky with dust and tears. "Then how can you forget so easily?"
He did not respond, but rather busied himself with feeding the birds which chirped at him from their gilded jail. From the other side of the room, he heard a loud sniff as his wife heaved herself out of the chair.
"I wish I could be like you," she whispered. "I wish that I too were cynical and unfeeling. These emotions and hopes, they seem to me far more trouble than they are worth. What good has come from a life of feelings?" she whispered. He turned away, crossing his arms and staring out the window.
At length he said, "It is harder than you might think, not caring. There are days when I awake and I feel. There are days when I feel what must be hope, and how I wish to keep it, for it feels so well to me! But I don't allow myself to think much of it. It is far harder not to feel than it is to feel. But, I have become so accustomed to it that I seldom have to try anymore."
"You have the power to forget," she replied.
"Not forget, Casey, but feign ignorance. One cannot forget, not naturally, at any rate. One can only become indifferent. Or, at least, one can only try to become indifferent."
"What a pair we make," she said. "I cannot forget, and you cannot care."
Derek shrugged. "One may say so. But," he said softly, taking a tentative step towards her, "perhaps we can attempt to change." Placing a gentle hand upon her swollen stomach, he took a long breath. With a small smile, she let her hand rest upon his own.
"Perhaps we can," she repeated. And thus they stood.
0o0o0o0
Lizzie and Peter wed in May of 1880. Lizzie was, like her sister, only eighteen years of age, although the circumstances surrounding the wedding party were far different than they had been with Casey. The wedding itself was by no means a grand affair. Lizzie had dressed herself early in the morning, before the sun had yet risen, carefully lacing up her soft white gown, which she had ordered for this very occasion. Upon her head sat the ornate veil that her mother had worn to her first marriage and that Casey had worn to her ill-fated match, a crown of interwoven orange blossoms renewing the splendor that had been lost with time to the item.
In keeping with the bride's wishes, they were wed outside the old Salisbury Cathedral, under the shade of the Cathedral's great spire. There was no great ceremony after the wedding, either. The small party drove along to the main house, where Emily had prepared a special breakfast for the occasion. Throughout the affair, neither Lizzie nor Peter took their eyes off one another. Peter would cast a longing glance at his new bride, and she, in turn, would blush, but smile back at him.
While they ate, Lizzie would occasionally turn away from her new husband to look at her sister. Casey seemed to her uncommonly lovely, wearing her finest dress, a glow upon her cheeks as she looked down upon her squirming infant girl, whom she could hardly stand to be away from. Once in a while, she would hand the child over to her husband, who held the girl as though she were made of china. A soft smile would grace his roughened face at these times, and he almost seemed to Lizzie happy. She nudged her new husband. "Look," she whispered, tossing her head towards Casey and Derek.
"Our happiness has caught on for the moment," he observed. She shook her head.
"No, I don't think that's it. I think it's something more. But, then, when I am so happy, how can I not think everyone around me is happy as well!" she said, beaming up at Peter. But still, as she watched, she perceived a change of some sort that had come over the couple. But, she would not remember to ask, for soon, she was being undressed and placed into a traveling gown.
As she prepared to go back down, to leave with her husband for their bridal tour, a soft knock stopped her.
"Come in," she called. The door opened, and Edwin stopped in.
"I was hoping to speak with you, in private, once more before you left."
Lizzie motioned for Casey, who had been assisting her, to leave the room. Casting Edwin a curious glance, Casey did so, kissing her sister once before closing the door behind her.
"What is it, Edwin? Aren't you happy today? Why, this is the greatest day to ever happen," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a friendly embrace.
"Yes, of course I am happy if you are happy. But Lizzie, there really is something that I must tell you. It isn't easy for me to say, and I know it's awful of me to tell you this now. I was going to write a letter informing you of my decision, but I couldn't do that to you."
Pulling away and tilting her head, Lizzie asked, "Edwin, what are you talking about?"
"I'm leaving in within the next week."
"As am I. But I'll be back, of course, and so will you, and we will meet each other again, very soon."
"No, Lizzie. I am leaving England."
She gasped, placing a little hand on her bosom. "Edwin!"
"I have decided to seek my fortune in Canada. I don't know quite what I'll do, but I'll find something. You see, Liz, there's nothing left for me here," he said softly. "Now! Don't cry, Lizzie! Hush, now. You don't want Peter to think that you're upset with him."
She turned away, wiping at her eyes. "I'm sorry. But Canada? What is there for you there? What is there that you can't have here, where you can still see me?"
"That is something I cannot tell you, Lizzie. My reasons for leaving are quite personal. Perhaps, one day, I shall speak to you of them. But for now, know that this is something that I must do for myself. This is what is best for me. Say you understand, Lizzie, please! I cannot bear to see you cry!"
She pulled him into a hug, grasping onto him as she had done when they were both young and innocent.
"I know we'll see one another again," she said softly. "I believe it, and I know that one day, you will find a reason to be happy."
"Just like you?" he asked.
She nodded, flashing him a watery smile. "Just like me."
0o0o0o0
"Hello, Derek."
Derek paused, looking down from his ladder to see the quiet face of his wife looking back up. It had been unseasonably warm all November, and she had taken advantage of the weather to take their child, whom they had christened Katharine, out that day. A warm glow seemed to radiate from her rosy cheeks as she cooed to the small bundle in her arms. Slowly, Derek made his way down, his face still shrouded in an emotionless façade.
"Has anything gone wrong?" he asked. With a small smile, Casey shook her head.
"No, 'tis all well. In face, it is better than that. I received a letter today from Lizzie," she said, her tone missing the heaviness that he had become so accustomed to as of late.
"Well, what did she have to say? It seems that it is most important," he replied, taking the infant from her arms as the child reached out towards him.
"She's with child! Oh, how wonderful it all is. She is so happy, Lizzie is."
"And so why are you happy? And why come out at all?"
"Derek! She's my sister. I want only the best for her," Casey admonished. "And, it was such a lovely day that I had to come and see you. Besides, I have been meaning to get a new bonnet for Katharine. Look how she's begun to outgrow everything already." He raised a skeptical eyebrow, and she sighed in resignation. "And, I suppose I feel responsible for her. After all, our actions did nothing to help her find a good husband. I'm just pleased that it all worked out."
"So, you're happy only because it eases your conscious?"
She shook her head, her face falling. Her eyes closed as she took a breath to steady herself. Perceiving the change, he asked, "What is it now?"
"You don't understand some things," she said softly. She reached towards him, retrieving the baby. As he stood, his arms still in the same position, as though cradling a phantom, she added, "there are some things that need not be said out loud."
"I'm sorry."
Giving him a tight smile, she turned to walk away, stopping only to turn and say, "I know."
When he returned home, he found that the burden that had been temporarily lifted had returned to her, and he felt, not for the first time, a feeling that seemed to him much akin to regret.
0o0o0o0
"Lizzie wrote to me today. Her husband is leaving her for a business trip, and she wishes me to join her in London while he's away. "
Derek looked up from where he sat, Katharine asleep next to him on the chair. It was a late June evening, the air chilled with the arrival of the moon. He shifted slightly, careful not to awaken his young daughter. The girl mumbled something in her slumber, but did not stir.
"She's like her father, Derek. There is nothing that will wake the child," Casey observed. Derek tenderly stroked the top of the girl's head and nodded in agreement.
Looking back up, the fleeting tenderness replaced by his usual mask, he asked, "And why must you come along?"
"She doesn't wish to be alone with the baby for that long. He'll be gone almost three weeks."
"Thomas is nearly two now. Surely Lizzie can care for him herself," he said gruffly.
"Well, never mind that. I want to go. I've always wanted to see the city. And besides, I'll not be long. I've told her that I can come for no more than a week," Casey returned.
"And Katharine? You know we can't afford a nurse, and I must work. Money is tight enough as it is."
"My mother offered to come up and care for her while I'm away. She's three, now, and certainly old enough to be separated from me, if only for a short while."
"Then why doesn't your mother go see Lizzie?"
"Because I want to see her!" Casey exclaimed. "I haven't seen Thomas yet, and I wanted to get away for a time."
Derek was silent for another minute. Finally, he said, "I'm not certain that I wish for you to go to London, Casey. It's a dirty place, they say, a wretched place, in fact. I've heard that disease runs rampant there, and you can't afford any more illness."
"Oh Derek," Casey sighed, "you don't really think that Peter would allow Lizzie to reside within the wretched part of the city, do you? They have an apartment in the West End, which I've been assured is quite fashionable. And you well know that it's been nearly two years since I was last seriously ill. Perhaps a trip will do me good." Noting no changes in his countenance, she looked at him speculatively. "Why, Mr. Venturi, could it be that you are worried for me?" she teased.
He tensed. "You mistake my worries. I'm simply thinking that it would be an awful thing for Katharine to grow up without a mother," he intoned.
"I'm sorry, I thought perhaps you…"
The playful atmosphere was gone, and they were once again strangers, looking at one another. Her unspoken words-almost a plea- hung in the air.
Feelings. Perhaps he was truly worried for her. But, it was not within their natures to discuss such things opening, or at all. The closest they could possibly come to such a frank discussion was had on a stormy night almost four years prior. The mere notion of feelings, good or bad, was foreign to the couple. That they could, in fact, feel was a dangerous enough thing, when consideration was given to their past. To voice such things would be detrimental to the fine peace that had settled upon the Venturi household. Still, they both knew, or should have known, that nothing would last forever. Casey left the next week, and, as she had promised, she returned soon after. Nothing was said of the conversation that was almost had, nor were any fears voiced.
And then, Casey got sick.
0o0o0o0
It was in October, a year later, Mrs. James rushed into the alehouse, where Derek was having a drink after a difficult work day. Supporting herself on a tattered old stool, gasping for air as her heavy chest rose rapidly up and down, she gasped out, "Mr. Venturi, please, you must come immediately!"
"Why, Mrs. James, it seems that it has been so long since I've seen you. But surely you didn't miss me enough to run to find me," he said, eliciting a chuckle from his companion. Straightening herself, she glared at him.
"Katharine didn't know where else to look for help, if you must know. Her mother has fallen ill, and the child is greatly concerned. Perhaps if you had come straight home…but, oh, it's not the time. Please, your wife is ill, and if you have any humanity left within you, you will follow me. I've already sent ahead for the doctor…"
"Katharine found you? She's only four!" exclaimed Derek, his eyes narrowing with worry. Placing a coin on the table, he pulled himself up. "Where is she now? Have you left her alone? Good God," he cried.
"She is safe at home, Mr. Venturi."
"Thank you, then. Charles," he said, motioning towards his companion, "see that Mrs. James is all right. I'm going to find out the meaning of this."
Once outdoors, he could not conceal the worry that manifested itself in his gate. Crouching against the brisk wind, he walked purposefully home, breaking out into a jog as he came in sight of the cottage and saw the doctor's familiar carriage.
"What has happened?" he exclaimed, walking in to find Katharine kneeling by her mother, her large blue eyes wet with tears. Casey lay quite still, her face pallid as the doctor muttered something under his breath. Derek took a seat nearby, running a hand through his unruly hair. "God, not again," he whispered.
"Mr. Venturi?"
"Yes?"
"The girl says she fainted. Has she suffered from dizzy spells lately?"
Derek shook his head. "I…I can't say. I've…been busy."
He pretended not to notice the look of disapproval upon the man's face.
"Katharine, why don't you go and play in the other room, darling," a voice rasped. Derek and the doctor both turned towards the woman, who, with some effort, had raised her head off the bed. Managing a weak smile, she sqeazed the little hands of the girl, who looked up at her father.
"Go on, Katharine," he said. "Do as you mother says." The girl nodded, reluctantly getting up and wondering into the kitchen.
"I'm sorry, doctor, for bringing you out here. I don't quite know what came over me," Casey rasped.
"Mrs. Venturi…"
"Casey, let the man look at you! You look as though you were a ghost!" her husband said, moving to sit by her. Turning to look up at the older man, he said, "go ahead and do your examination."
Casey did not hear the rest of the exchange, for she soon fell into a restless slumber. When she awoke, day had broken, and Derek was still seated by her side. Slowly, she reached her hand to her lips, kissing her fingers and placing them on Derek's hand. Content and more at peace than she had been in so long, she once again drifted back to sleep.
"What happened to the birds?"
Derek turned at the unexpected voice. Casey stood before him, a shawl wrapped around her slender frame as she steadied herself.
"You shouldn't be up," said he. After a moment, he added, "Katharine tried to play with them. She set them free."
"Good," she replied. Though her face was still a sickly pallor, it seemed to him that some life had at last returned to her. Her countenance was that of a woman at peace, an openness marking her features.
"What did the doctor say?" she asked, taking a seat at the rickety table.
He looked away, his glance moving from the fireplace to the bird cage, back and forth, anywhere but where she sat. Pulling herself out of her seat, she slowly walked up to him, placing a trembling hand on his cheek and softly pulling his face towards her.
"What did he say, Derek?" she asked again, her blue eyes wide and curious.
"He said…" Derek started, coughing, as though something were lodged in his throat, "He said that you have a slight illness, but you should be fine with proper care."
She gave a soft laugh, which was interrupted as a cough racked her body. "You have always been honest with me, Derek. From the beginning, you never allowed me to live under any illusions as to your nature, or mine. Please, do not start telling me lies now."
He took a handkerchief from his pocket, slowly dabbing at the dots of red that stained her mouth. She nodded again, as though she understood.
"I'm dying, aren't I?" The lightness of her tone belied the seriousness of her words, and he started at the casual way in which she stated so tragic a fact.
"He can't know for sure, Casey. You know that he is only a country quack…"
"Don't, Derek. He's right. I already knew, even before I got sick, even before he came. I just knew that I wasn't going to be here for much longer. I always knew, I think."
"Casey," he insisted, "there are treatments, there are ways."
She tilted her head, her guileless eyes gazing inquisitively at him. "But Derek, it's okay. I've been preparing myself for this. Somehow, I knew that this was happening. It was London, I think, when I visited Lizzie last year. Yes, that must be it, because a fortnight later, I awoke and thought to myself, I'm going to die soon."
Derek opened his mouth to protest, but she placed a finger on his lips.
"Hush, now. This is the end of our story, Derek. Our happy ending. It's the only ending that could have happened."
"You're delirious. Surely you don't mean to allow yourself to die without a fight!" he exclaimed. "I thought I knew you better, though you were stronger than this!"
She shook her head, smiling tenderly up at him. "Oh, but I'm so tired of fighting. I'm so tired of denying truths, believing in falsehoods. You were always right; I never did see things as they were. But that's over now. I'm not going to live my life in fear of the unknown. I did, you know. Every day, I would fear that which I could not see. I feared you, feared the world, feared everything. Maybe 'twas death I feared. Oh, I can't remember."
He grabbed her hand, pressing it urgently to his lips. "Had I been less indifferent…"
"It would have changed nothing. Happiness was never for you and me, Derek. My love for you was never easy, nor was your love for me. I ask for nothing from you, and I never did. Fate would not allow it to be otherwise. But now, we are allowed our happiness, however briefly it may last. We couldn't go on like this forever. I don't know how much longer we have, and I don't suppose the doctor gave you a time line."
He moved to answer her, but she again silenced him. "I don't want to know," she said, leaning into him and wrapping her frail arms around him. "It could be months, weeks, perhaps a year."
He tenderly pressed a kiss upon her head. "I don't want to lose you," he said softly.
"Oh Derek, don't be upset," she murmured. "We have time yet."
"Time for what?"
She looked up at him, smiling again. "Oh, I don't quite know. Time for many things, I suppose. Time for happiness. Time for prosperity. Time for family, even. Katharine will, after all, need to know how to take care of her father. We have time for goodbyes. Perhaps we even have time enough to love."
His lips twitched upwards as he pulled her closer to him. He felt her stand up taller, placing a light kiss at the corner of his mouth before settling back into his arms, her head resting upon his broad chest.
"Yes," he agreed, "I suppose we have time enough
0o0o0o0
A/N: Stay tuned! The epilogue is coming out soon! In it, a prodigal character will return, and we'll find out if this is really a sad ending or not. Yes, I meant for that to be ambiguous. It's coming, and it's coming soon (like, within the next week soon. By next Thursday, this story will be completely over.
Epic authors note with explanations, thoughts, and other such goodies will come with the epilogue. Or, you know, instead of waiting to find out why I did what I did, or why I chose to end it in this way, you could always ask in a review. I'll always answer a question. But, y'know, you have to review first. Also, I am going back this summer to edit the story. So please let me know things that you liked, things that you would have liked to see changed, etc. Any parts that you thought were extraneous? Any recurring errors that you found? I can't fix it unless I know what you're thinking. So, give an author a hand and help!
And you can do it all through a review.
Thanks for reading, and I hope that this is satisfactory. There is actually an interesting story about the ending. Ask me about it, and I'll tell all.
Emily