Eliza Doolittle: The Life and Times of a Good Girl
Chapter Twenty-Six: Family Reunion Part Two
Jane was taken aback. When Edward had called her earlier that week, she had updated him on Eliza's condition, and he begged Jane to wait on revealing the truth to her.
"I will find Henry, and we will let him tell her the truth when she is out of danger."
"Of course, Edward! Do you really think I would endanger Eliza and the baby by revealing something so damaging to her now?" A thought came to Jane. "Edward, do you really think it is wise, bringing Henry home now? The shock may be too much for Eliza."
"Pardon?"
"Well, perhaps all it would take for Eliza would be Henry's presence. She's not exactly happy with him right now, is she?"
"Woman, you sent me on this errand, practically at knife-point, and now you don't think it is such a good idea?"
"Oh, Edward!"
"I will see you soon, with Henry."
Jane was a terrible liar as a general rule, always had been. Everything she had ever tried to hide always seemed to be sketched in bold letters on her sweet little face. Heat flared up her cheeks and she looked away, feeling Eliza's keen eyes searching her for signs of deception.
"You do know something, Jane."
"Eliza, I don't know what you are-"
"Don't even finish that sentence! It reeks of untruth, Jane, and you know it."
Jane closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. "I have the photograph and the letter."
In that moment, Eliza gripped Jane's hands in hers with brutal strength, her eyes wild. "Why? Why on earth are you both keeping them from me?" Eliza hissed. "Surely you realize you have no right?"
"It is complicated, Eliza. They may upset you, and I don't want to harm you or the child." Jane winced in pain as Eliza's grip tightened.
"I am upset now, don't you realize?"
"Yes! Eliza, you are hurting me!"
Eliza released her hold on Jane and blinked, as though stepping out of a trance. "I just want to see them, Jane. I barely knew my mother, and I wasn't even aware a photograph existed."
Jane nodded. "But you must stay calm, dearest. The letter will answer many questions, but you have to be certain you are ready for them."
"Questions about what?"
"Henry leaving."
Eliza narrowed her eyes. "Why on earth would a letter of my mother's tell me why Henry left?"
"You will see. Just, get some rest, and I will go fetch them this instant." Jane pressed a kiss to Eliza's forehead. "Dearest, you must prepare yourself."
"I want to know, Jane. Please."
Jane returned with the items, and hesitantly dumped them onto Eliza's lap. Eliza picked up the photograph, and smiled, tracing her fingers along the surface. "She was so beautiful."
"Yes, I do remember her being lovely," Jane replied, causing Eliza to meet her eyes with an alarmed look.
"You remember?"
"Read the letter."
So she did. Jane squirmed as she witnessed Eliza's silent reading of the letter. The moment she feared came quickly, as Eliza's eyes lit upon the signature on the letter. The younger girl's face became bloodless, and she took a few deep breaths, as though trying to keep herself calm. Eliza set down the letter and looked up at Jane, questions still burning in her eyes.
"What is this?"
Jane proceeded to give Eliza a history lesson. She explained Catherine's role in the Higgins household, a role that had started when Jane and Edward were mere childhood friends. She conveyed Edward's version of events, albeit more gently, ending with Catherine's exile at Henry's hands.
"Oh, God," was all Eliza could manage.
"I am so very sorry that my husband felt the need to drag this into the open. It would have been better if he had left it buried, but he has held a grudge with Henry all these years over it." Jane worried when Eliza fell silent, a brooding look on her features. "Eliza, I am so sorry."
"Please stop apologizing or I will scream loud enough to bring the house down. I don't want your sympathy, Jane Higgins, I just want to be left alone."
"Oh, Eliza…"
"Please, go away. I will not ask so calmly the next time."
Caught between comforting her friend or preventing an outburst, Jane choose to leave.
Eliza sat alone in her bed, willing herself not to scream. She looked down at her stomach and caressed it lovingly. "I will not get upset, little one," she swore.
Henry had been in love with her mother. Henry had thrown her mother out into the streets, into the arms of Alfred Doolittle. How easy it would be to blame Henry for Eliza's lot in life, her miserable childhood, her cold nights in an uncomfortable bed, shivering under insufficient covering. It would be all to easy…
Either way, you would have been the daughter of Alfred. Henry did not push the two together, your mother went to him, Eliza's conscience rationalized. Besides, you are judging the man based on actions took when he was practically a boy. Are you the same person you were a decade ago, even a year ago? Eliza brushed off her conscience. She wanted to hate Henry for just a little while. After all, he had learned the truth and fled from it, like a coward. She could not forget that horrible first night after he left. Eliza had wept so hard that there were times she feared the force would cause her heart to break out of her chest, or at the very least fracture a few ribs.
Yes, despite the sound rationale of her mind, there were still instances that caused her to deeply hate him.
Henry and Edward arrived at the younger Higgins' residence late at night. The servants were all abed, and Jane was reading quietly in the parlor, as if knowing they were to arrive. She looked up from her reading with a soft smile on her lips and a glow in her eyes.
"Edward!" She cried softly, before setting down her book and running to his arms.
Henry stood apart from the reunited pair, feeling very much uncomfortable with their show of affection. "How is Eliza?" Henry asked, by way of distracting the two of them from their amorous raptures.
Jane released Edward from her embrace, and swiftly averted her eyes to the floor. "She knows."
"About what? Henry coming home?"
Jane shook her head, and cringed in anticipation of Edward and Henry's reaction.
"Badly done, Jane!" Edward thundered. " I told you to keep quiet on the subject until Henry could tell her!"
"Shush! Do you want to wake the whole household?" Jane inquired. She gave a look of desperation to Henry, who appeared ashen. "She suspected, and then questioned me about it; Do you recall what a terrible liar I am? She sniffed out the deception like a blood-hound!"
"How did she take the revelation?" Henry asked, as if fearing the answer.
"She was calm, but upset. She sent me away, and hasn't received visitors since. That was about a week ago."
Henry sighed and covered his face with his hands, utterly exhausted and defeated. It was going to be worse than he thought, their little reunion.
"Perhaps you ought to stay here a few days, old chap. At least until Jane can report that Eliza is receiving visitors again."
Henry shook his head. "No. I can't run anymore, Edward." He nodded to Jane. "I am leaving. It was nice to see you again, Jane. Don't blame yourself for this; Eliza has always been far too sharp for her own good."
The couple waved as Henry began his trek back to 27A.
The house was dark and silent as Henry made his way up the stairs. Something about the house seemed vastly different, even in the darkness. Henry supposed he had been away so long that he had simply remembered it being larger than it was. He looked towards the door to his study. In the morning, he would lose himself in the old familiarity of his favorite room, but for now, sleep.
He carefully opened the door to the master bedroom, making sure the hinges would not creak and announce his presence. His eyes fell on the sleep form of his wife, illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp she had kept burning. Henry did not remember Eliza being fearful of the dark, but appreciated the effect of the gentle light all the same. It gave his wife an ethereal appearance, as though the glow was coming from within. She had rounded out beautifully, he thought. Edward had always complained about the weight that Jane would gain during pregnancy, and Henry had to agree that his sister-in-law never wore the condition gracefully. Here, though, was a fertility goddess. His eyes did not see the dark bruises beneath her eyes, or the slight swelling in her hands. He saw only the vision of the woman he so desperately loved and missed, carrying their child alone, but bravely, like a warrior princess.
"Oh, Eliza." Henry's whispering voice was heavy with emotion, and he never felt so close to weeping and atoning as he did at that very moment. With a heavy heart, he crossed the room, and crawled into the bed next to her. He did not remove his clothing, only intending on holding her for a few moments before heading to the guest room for the rest of the night. How quickly sleep overcame him.