CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
"I'm glad to say I've finally located your servants, our supper, and your novel, ma'am." Moray said, swallowing a stiff frown as Jaimey followed him into the loft, laden down with a tray the size of a small handcart.
Phillips was right behind his brother, carrying a table the size of a small buckboard, and two chairs.
"Well, we can enjoy our supper over there by the window, boys." Pascale nodded. as the young Texan actually began to nod off. Jess wanted to fight sleeping, but her voice was the most soothing music he knew these days. And nothing could keep his eyes open a moment longer.
" My dear lad is soundly asleep, so we'll just keep a bowl wrapped up warmly for him. I'm quite concerned about it. He doesn't seem able to sleep for more than an hour or two at one stretch. And in this case, that should do quite well, I believe."
''You're being very gracious, still, to this young …stranger, ma'am.'' Moray probed now, to see how she'd react.
''This young stranger greatly befriended our dearest Neddy during the Conflict and was terribly grieved and shocked to hear of my brother's passing. I thought differently once, as you well know. But I was …misguided. And so I know I am indebted to him. And I pay my debts, always, just as I was brought up to do, Heydon Palmerston. Of course, true Southrons have always been brought up with those same high principles, wouldn't you agree, old friend?'' The Widow asked him dropping for now her 'delusion' that Jess was her lost brother.
''Oh, indubitably, ma'am.'' Moray agreed, wondering where she was going with this talk of debts and payments. ''Any gently bred Southron would be far too dreadfully ashamed to do otherwise, where a debt of any kind is involved, ma'am.''
''Yes, I knew you'd agree on that point, Heydon Palmerston. You've always had such fine, such noble principles, learned at your dearest father's knee, I don't doubt.'' Pascale answered, thinking she must have hit the nerve she was seeking, when Moray hissed and fell abruptly silent.
''My maternal grandfather's knee, truth be told, ma'am.'' Moray grated, realizing the Widow knew that his 'dearest father' had ruined that side of the family, with shady business dealings, embezzling and then absconding with numerous other person's monies. ''Grand poppa always taught me to always take great care in all my business affairs, ma'am, very great care that I should bring no notoriety or scandal to my friends or family back in Charleston.''
'' Well then he would surely be terribly pleased with all you've accomplished, Dear Sir, never once staining his proud, old heritage or character.'' The Widow said, smiling. No, never once, since during the Conflict you made careful use of assumed names in your filthy, treacherous profiteering! She thought, hiding her anger and loathing for the Charleston native behind a wide eyed gaze of admiration.
''Family meant a great deal in the Old South, ma'am. I'm not sure it does
in these terribly altered times we live in now.'' Moray shrugged. '' And of course, it was always a matter of great pride with me, to have the friendship and support of your late father, and the General. I never could have made the strides I have without their kindness and their influence, being a veritable stranger to the Delta when I came there as a young lad, myself. But surely it must sadden you far too much these days to speak of our old happier times, ma'am.''
'' No, no. Quite the contrary. I find those memories a great comfort, just lately.'' Pascale told him, meaning every word. '' After all, at least back then I had my Poppa, my heart's own dearest love, my Napier and my dearest, darling little brother, Neddy still with me. So I find I love to think on those days, more and more, Heydon Palmerston.
And just as you said, the times we find ourselves in now, are so awfully changed… almost past enduring. We've lost so much, so many beloved friends, kin and places we shall never see again this side of Glory! We've lost the world we grew up in, really. I'm sure you miss that world as much as I do, don't you?''
''I don't allow myself to, ma'am.'' Moray told her, lying. '' I find it no comfort to think on what was and can never be again. It's simply not my nature. And, well, I must admit to you, not all my memories are happy, from those days. I can't help recalling, mum, for example that I lost my suit, when you wed the General. And I nearly lost my friendship with your father and brothers over it. I was… a young fool then, I suppose, and reacted perhaps, too strongly to my disappointments.''
'' Ah, now you are flattering me, aren't you, old friend?'' The Widow answered, shaking her head and offering him her best former-debutante's simper. '' After all, the whole Delta knew my Poppa and Napier's wanted us matched, practically from our cradles! Fortunately for me, unlike so many other girls of my age, I fell profoundly in love with the very man my family wished me to marry. And even more luckily, my Napier loved me immediately, as well.
That didn't happen very often, in those days. No, far more frequently, the girls I knew and schooled with were only fortunate when they grew to love and be loved by the spouses their parents intended for them. But surely, Heydon Palmerston, I'm very sure there were any number of belles setting their caps with you in mind as the feather they wanted to adorn them!'' And any number of beaus you much preferred to adorn the arms of, damn you, Sir!
'' I saw only one I wanted, at that time, if you'll pardon my saying.'' Moray answered, and truthfully this time. And you are even more a fool than I think if you've never guessed that one was your dearest darling little brother!
''Neddy,'' Pascale said, startling her 'master prosecutor' badly. '' Neddy always admired you back then, my friend. He so greatly appreciated and respected you. I daresay my dearest boy was too self conscious to tell you that himself. He could be so painfully shy, at times. He didn't seem to know what high regard his friends and family held him in at all, wouldn't you agree with my assessment?''
'' Young Master Edward Denys Augustin had a very fine and proper, natural modesty, ma'am. There never was a trace of egotism in him. In fact, I recall remarking that he was surely the most unassuming young gentleman in all N'Orleans. That seems to have … forgive me for touching on what is surely a sore point, mum.
But that seems to have been a contributing factor in his camaraderie with … those young Texans, including your young charge there. The young gentleman never seemed to note the manifest differences between them.'' Moray told her, coming as close as he ever had to speaking his true mind about her brother.
''I daresay Neddy didn't wish to. And then of course, there were those other, darker reasons for my own dearest Neddy's deep self-doubts and misgivings. With the best will in the world, Poppa and Lee Henry and I were never able to keep Neddy from hearing every vile scrap of gossip in the Parish!
I can only suppose he confided in you about the matter, then, as his father and his brother in law's good and trusted friend, Heydon Palmerston.'' The Widow probed, lowering her gaze, as if ashamed, and wondering how or if her first line of bait would be taken.
''In me, ma'am?'' Moray asked, giving her every show of confused concern now. Surely her doting father, husband and twin brother would have kept those stories from her! And even if she heard that deliciously horrid bit of gossip, the Lady has no means whatever of knowing I repeated it to 'her own Neddy'! She couldn't know that! She can't have found it out! It's entirely out of the question! Caulder's papers and journals have never turned up in any of our sorties or endeavors! I know, as I'm the only one who's been searching for them!
''Yes, Heydon Palmerston, I have found myself hoping very much indeed that my own dearest boy found a stalwart friend and confidant, in you. He wrote me, as you may not know, on more than one occasion saying you embodied for him the man of the world he wished to be, so.'' Pascale said, lying outright. '' So it seemed to me, he might have … brought that old trouble to you… He didn't , then? Neddy didn't tell you the appalling family gossip he learned of, when the Conflict had barely started?''
''No, ma'am. And I surely wish he had been able to confide his troubles in me, I do assure you.'' Moray lied. ''But the well established families in the old South always seemed to win the envy and malice of lesser spirits, don't you agree, Dear Lady?''
My family surely won your spite and envy, Dear Sir! She thought. And what we ever did to win it to this extent, I can't begin to grasp! Ah, how I'd like to strike you dead where you stand for what you've done to me and mine, you monster! And how I'd love to lie down dead in the next instant, having finally achieved some small measure of Justice! I can't though, I promised my Dearest Twin I'd buy him as much time as humanly possible, with which to confront and destroy our enemy and his forces in detail!
Letting her rage out in sobbing now, The Widow leaned against her chair and let her tears flow, for Neddy, for Lee Henry, Napier, for their shattered world and her failings to them. But misdirection and tumult were her mortal weapons in this endeavor, and so Eugenie Pascale turned back to them, and turned her wide, bright gaze on the boy asleep behind her.
''Oh, Neddy, my dearest, dearest, darling boy! That you should have heard or worse, believed such terrible calumnies about our dearest Poppa!'' She stage-whispered, grasping the boy's left hand and bowing to kiss it. ''And how can I even broach this awful matter with you now, my darling boy, when I know how it will further wound and weaken your shining spirit?
You have our maman's bright, tender, but all too fragile essence, Neddy dearest! And I can't tell you how often Poppa, Lee Henry, Napier and I were gladdened, even in our grieving for her, knowing she never lived to hear these … libels! Neddy, our brother Lee Henry read the Law, well before the Conflict ever started. And he assures me, darling, that the truth, which we surely have on our side, is an absolute defense against slander!
So you must … when you're strong enough, finally hear and absolutely believe me, my dearest! There is no truth whatever to that vicious old story, Neddy! You and I are full siblings, my darling, we have the same Poppa and maman! We are not and never could have been mother and child!''
Moray stood transfixed in front of the Widow, now. He'd seen her shift from reality to delusion in a heartbeat before now. He'd heard her move without blinking an eye from the raging of a maddened lioness to the purring of a cream-fed cat. But this was something new. He'd known she was stronger in some ways than any other woman of his acquaintance. He'd known she could look on horrors and show not the least reaction, much less any remorse or revulsion. But this whispered revelation amazed the man who'd fed it to and watched it destroy her younger brother. And he wasn't sure if, or how he should respond. Nor did she give him time to.
''Ah, you're still here, Dear Sir.'' Pascale said, lifting her wide gaze up to his stare. '' Have the boys not brought up Neddy's supper, yet?''
''No, ma'am. Perhaps, as much as I hate to leave you so distraught, I should go back down and see what could possibly be delaying them?'' the prosecutor asked, wondering how she could have forgotten the 'procession' he'd been part of moments ago.
''No, please don't. My darling's managing a nap, just now. And I would have him get all the rest he can, preparatory to our long trip home to N'Olins. I did mention we'd be leaving just as soon as my Neddy can safely travel?'' The Widow asked, watching him intently all the while she smiled confusedly at him.
'' I believe so, yes, ma'am. You've wanted for some time now to see the young Master home once more. But have his doctors offered any opinion as to when he might make such an arduous journey?'' Moray asked.
'' Oh, they're not even certain he can do so at any time whatsoever!'' Pascale told him. '' They're all such gloomy, morbid old crows, you know! I'm almost out of patience with dear old Gabriel, and Thierry's hardly any better! Our old friend, Doctor Colville on the one hand, tells me Neddy must keep his bed a good six months or more, before attempting any exertion, if then, if ever! And our old pastor, Reverend Deveraux on the other looks and speaks as if he's preparing to offer Last Rites to Neddy at any moment!''
'' Well, '' Moray replied, shrugging and swallowing a laugh that would surely anger her further. '' when one considers the state of the young master's health… when he arrived here, ma'am… ''
''When I consider the state of the boy's health when he arrived here with us,
Heydon Palmerston,'' The Widow answered, glaring at him. '' I find myself thoroughly delighted and encouraged by his progress! And if you are of a mind to voice the same sort of bleak prognoses and melancholic cautions I will thank you to leave my brother to my care once more and tend to your other … surely very crucial dealings!''
Moray couldn't do that now, and they both knew it. He knew his own men were spreading down and across the compound now to spy out whatever Lee Henry might be up to. He guessed the Federal lawmen they had all been worriedly expecting were near, or on the premises as well, leaving him not one but two threats to deal with. Pascale knew her brother was preparing to assault the lodge, hoping not to do so until she'd persuaded Moray to return the young Texan to her custody. And she guessed, knowing her twin better than any other living person, that he would broker whatever agreement he could with the 'Unionists' that would best safeguard young Harper and his sister.
''Mum, if I've offended you, I would most profoundly wish to make my deepest apologies.'' The Charleston jurist told her.
'' But I will not, nor I cannot leave you unguarded up here, when we all know the so called Yankee authorities may be upon us at any hour. No more, I'd have to imagine than you would leave young Master Edward Denys in these circumstances, no more than I would leave him here, myself, sick and helpless against our long time foes.''
''You would not leave my dearest boy to fall into enemy hands, old friend?'' The Widow asked, inwardly gleeful as Moray took the bait she'd been dangling for him, the past quarter of an hour. ''You would never leave a trusting, helpless invalided friend in any kind of danger? Nor would you dishonor your long friendship with and support by my father, my
brothers and my husband, by leaving us subject to slurs, calumnies, misapprehensions and outright lies, is that what you are saying?''
'' Naturally, ma'am no true-hearted, well bred, Genuine Southron Gentleman would do any such thing.'' Moray answered, pleased with himself for misdirecting the question.
''No, no such actual gentleman from any corner of the globe would act in that fashion towards a lady or another gentleman of their closest association. Indeed, I cannot think that any truly gently bred man would even dream of a betrayal such as that, accorded to another of their own class, or indeed to any other human being.'' Pascale said, fighting an urge to laugh at the way he neglected to answer. But she got the response she wanted when Moray stiffened and glanced coldly at the boy sleeping on the cot behind her.
''Mrs. Pascale, ma'am, surely you are as well aware as anyone that there
are distinct, unambiguous differences between members of our society's different levels.'' the former prosecutor added. ''You are a Southron gentlewoman, after all! You were raised to womanhood in the world we lost to the Yankee's bloody war machine! You are the daughter, granddaughter and great granddaughter of men who adhered fully to the South's peculiar institution, ma'am. And all that being true, you certainly know the difference between a genteel Southron and a Yankee wage slave or any other type of damnable purportedly freed darky! ''
''I do, indeed, just as you say, Heydon Palmerston. The former is a person who has usually inherited some substantial resources from his or her ancestors and therefore has never earned a penny by their own efforts. The latter are persons, sometimes of color, sometimes not, who in many cases, do the labor which serves to enrich the former. If you can point out any other truly substantive differences, Dear Sir, I should be quite curious to hear what they are. Aside from that, as I believe a great many of us learned, during or following the Conflict, both the latter and the former are sapient, living, human beings, equally possessed of minds and spirits, hearts and limbs and all other organs and physical properties necessary to their existence.
Both suffer, learn and bleed and die, in their time. Both equally require sustenance and shelter, fire, air and water. Both are equally subject to illness, maiming, imprisonment, hatred, love, friendship, loneliness, cruelty, and yes, even madness before their deaths.'' The Widow said, wordlessly enjoying the manner in which her brief polemic made Moray's temper rise.
''I am neither a philosopher nor a poet, ma'am, therefore I daresay I could not express myself well on such matters. I only know what I was raised to believe from boyhood: And that is that certain persons are known to be the better of others by their nature, their class, and their condition.'' Moray answered. ''We are made in that way by the Hand of the Deity. It's simply the way of the world, and always has been. On occasion we see a wastrel, or an exceptional man who seems to disprove those concepts by sinking below or rising above his state at birth. However, in my observation and experience, ma'am, in each of those cases, it is merely the innate worth given by their Creator, or the lack thereof that we find being so vividly demonstrated.''
Well, Heydon Palmerston, Pascale thought. I was afraid you were traveling even further out on a tangent from where I need you now. But you've carried yourself and your specious arguments completely around and back to my own, again.
''Yes, I've heard that argument more than once before now.'' The Widow answered. '' My own thoughts on the subject were, I confess, largely formed by listening to my dearest Neddy's egalitarian ideals. And of course there were always those in old N'Olins who made clear their belief that certain members of the wealthy class went out of their way to prove they were not worthy of that place. Coming from old money as both you and I do, you've surely encountered that sort of .. backwards snobbery from those less fortunate than we. Have you not?''
Once more Moray bristled and once more Pascale hid her smiling reaction. He no more came from 'old money' in Charleston than her young charge had done in Texas. And just as she expected, once again the prosecutor dodged her question, only to take the tangent she most wished he would.
'' Oh, yes, I seem to remember, ma'am. Young master Edward Denys was indeed an ardent advocate of all such democratic thinking.'' Moray frowned. '' He was quite the fiery young idealist, when we met at the General's home.''
''And he remained so, especially when he came to know his young comrades
from Texas. Neddy admires their wild, free ways of thought and of … being so tremendously. He wrote me so often, about the ways in which the differences between their young lives and the sheltered, almost cloistered world he'd known raised his spirit and opened his eyes to the wider world.'' Pascale said.
'' But Dear Lady, those differences, the wide variance between your dear brother and those same wild, uncontrolled young hooligans… '' Moray said and made a great show of hesitating.
'' What were you going to say, Dear Sir?'' the Widow demanded he tell her.
'' They took your brother from you, mum!'' the prosecutor insisted. ''They took him into their heedless way of soldiering, of thinking and of living … never to return to N'Orleans, or to his family … Umm, that is, of course he's…. here now… ma'am… But they nearly ruined the lad, as you surely understand by now! They were the worst companions, the worst sort of reckless young fools… and surely a real detriment to his expected advancement… ''
Ah, G-d! Pascale almost shouted, but somehow she maintained her mask
of calm, unaffected interest. Still you seek to persuade me that Neddy's brothers in arms carry the whole, entire blame for my losing the dear boy! Still you wish me to destroy yet another of Neddy's boon companions for you! Well I have followed your mad persuasion into Perdition's depths Dear Sir, but I will take not one step further!
''Yes, yes, so you've said on many, many past occassions, Heydon Palmerston.'' She answered. ''And I have taken you at your word, at every conceivable turn along the way. I did so because you were my father's and my husband's friend and confidant, or so I also believed for quite some time. And I did so because I wanted to visit my own grief and loss and … yes, my own mad desire for retribution, wherever and on whomever I could lay the blame!''
''Those ruffians who pretended to befriend and support your tragic brother, ma'am…'' Moray began, all the while staring at the Widow, trying and failing to read her expression or her eyes.
''I don't wish to converse any longer on the subject of my dearest boys former cohort, old friend.'' the Widow told him flatly. '' Unless it is absolutely necessary, I would like you to agree that you and I shall not discuss those east Texans ever, ever again. You will agree to leave that painful subject, will you not, Heydon Palmerston, at my request, at the request of your friend, and the daughter, sister and widow of your friends, that is, myself, Eugenie Pascale?''
''Why assuredly I will, ma'am. Why should we dwell after all on such … unalterable matters?'' Moray shrugged, not looking at all nonchalant, the Widow considered.
'' We should not. I intend to concentrate the full extent of my remaining energies on the immediate future, Dear Sir, immediately I have resolved one or two other questions with you, now.''
'' And what would those questions be, Dear Lady? You know I will do, as I have to this instant, all in my power to accommodate your wishes.'' the prosecutor boldly lied.
'' First I would ask you, Dear Sir, speaking of old times and old friends and … debts remaining unpaid and such, where were you , Heydon Palmerston, when Atlanta fell and my dearest Neddy was taken prisoner by the infernal Yankees there? Where, to be precise, was your regiment in that terrible final autumn of the Conflict?'' Pascale asked, and had to hide her grin at the way Moray blanched and stammered before he could frame his answer.
''Ma'am, my regiment was following General Hood's command west across the entire breadth of Tennessee at that instant. That campaign, of course, proved another disastrous folly, I'm grieved to say. So many bright young, talented hearts and spirits were wasted, so many fine, even wonderful futures were thrown away at Franklin and at Nashville! '' Moray told her, which was the literal truth, he considered. His regiment was attached to John Bell Hood's command. Heydon Moray quite cleverly, as he'd long thought, merely managed to detach himself from that doomed mission.
''Ah, yes. That's what I remember you telling me, more than once, before now.'' the widow nodded. ''Yes. So you would never have encountered Neddy's friends, including young Harper, when he and his fellows were in the fighting around Atlanta, then?''
''Never, ma'am. Why would you ask me that, when I've already told you where … '' Moray started to ask and then shuddered and fell silent at the bitter look the widow Pascale gave him.
''Because, without consciously knowing or understanding he'd done so, without my fully grasping the import at first, this young stranger, this young Texan, and another of his friends, one Aaron Caulder, have put the lie to your version of events that fall, in Atlanta.'' Eugenie Pascale answered, her wide silver grey eyes shining with long misplaced rage.
Caulder! Moray thought, fighting to keep from jumping as she spoke the late Sergeant's name. No! She's heard the late Sergeant's name and built a fantasy atop it! She can't… She'll never prove what she's saying! After all, she's wholly mad and grasping at straws, now, seeking for anything to save a doomed young fool she either believes is her latest paramour or her late brother!
''Madam,'' He protested. '' I'm not sure I wholly comprehend your meaning, now. Whatever lunatic's ramblings you may have heard from Harper, surely you've considered to be the rantings of a capricious, deadly dangerous, violent…''
''Madman?'' The Widow asked, finishing his declaration for him. '' No, My Dear Sir, that is not how I would ever describe my conversations with your latest target of lies, abuse and truly ghastly mistreatment! And I will ask you to hear me out now, and to hear me out in silence, old friend, or I will be forced to do what I had rather leave to those endowed with proper authority! Will you therefore keep silent now, or will you force me to make you silent for all time?''
Staring at her, his icy eyes twitching with evident fear and even more obvious signs of his own drug use, Moray nodded.
'' That is well. I'll continue with the genuine narrative of those bleak days around Atlanta in the autumn of 1864. You, sir, were somewhat, but not seriously wounded during the siege of that fine old city. You were not incapacitated, as you claimed to be, but rather, inconvenienced by that injury to your lower extremities. And being injured, you were taken into one of the receiving hospitals there, and remained there, from the days slightly before until well after the Yankees took the city. You will now nod, Heydon Palmerston to indicate your acknowledgement of the facts I've stated.''
Scowling but having little choice, Moray once more nodded.
'' Again, I continue: As the horrid working out of all our fates would have it, Dear Sir, my younger brother, my dearest Neddy brought his two wounded friends and comrades into Atlanta, and to that same hospital. Yes, my Neddy brought his younger friends from east Texas, Aaron Caulder and … Jess Harper to the same hospital where you were a patient. But you know that! You always have done! As I said, you were there and you were charged with working as a nurse… to other, far more seriously wounded boys. Nod again to make it clear to me that you know I am speaking only the truth of the matter.''
Again, the prosecutor nodded to her, his mouth a furious, taut line, his eyes blazing.
'' Yes, and as my brother, and Sergeant Caulder, and young Harper discovered then, you were at that time deeply mired in a great many terrible business dealings, Heydon Palmerston. You were a very busy man of affairs there in old Atlanta! You were keenly involved in amassing no small fortune. And every cent you took in then came from traitorous, treacherous, appalling profiteering on the black market, taking medicines and bandages, blankets, food and water from our over-burdened Southron people, and our valiantly struggling, bravely suffering boys in grey!
And as I said, all that, my dearest boy, my Neddy and his friends learned and noted, and confronted you with! And all that, as I said, Aaron Caulder and my brother took and kept in detailed records. All those records, Heydon Palmerston, despite the fact that you were using any number of false names then, show that you cheated, betrayed and robbed our bleeding, dying Nation!
And all those records are what you have spent every waking moment since that autumn seeking after, to utterly destroy them and their valorous young authors! Young Caulder and Harper didn't know who you were, naturally enough, they only knew your villainy and greed at a time when heroism and sacrifice were desperately needed. And they would have exposed you, then and there, old friend but you somehow managed to escape the city and the country altogether!
And I wish to G-d you'd taken your escape route immediately you knew you were exposed, and stayed in whatever despicable hiding place you found forever! But first, you decided you would shame my brother, my Neddy into silence! It was never my old neighbors in the Parish who told my brother those old lies about our Poppa. It was you, Heydon Palmerston! You did that, you came at him over, over, and over, because Neddy, the brother I loved and cherished and helped to raise recognized you without question and valiantly confronted you with his knowledge.
So, you decided Neddy would be the first target and first victim in your mad campaign of self preservation! And even when you'd achieved my brother's final destruction, even when you murdered Neddy six years ago in the Quarter, still you were afraid of exposure, still you craved more abuse, more lies, more terror, more ruin and more devastation! Because you were never going to be satisfied with taking the lives of three young heroes, were you? No, you were never going to feel safe, or satisfied again until you devastated or destroyed everyone who might have learned your pernicious secrets, anyone with whom those three boys might have shared their damning comprehension!''
'' Madame Pascale, I insist, I must insist you now admit you are very much mistaken!'' Moray called out, staring at her and putting up quite a good show of righteous indignation, he considered. '' I am a gentleman, ma'am, not a thief, not a swindler! I am the scion of an old, excellent Charleston family! I am an officer of the Court! … I… ''
''You are a liar, a conniver, a cheat, a fraud, and a poisoner, sir!'' Pascale shouted back. ''You are a black hearted destroyer! And one of those you decided you had to destroy lies here, badly harmed, but once more under my absolute protection. And another of those you believed you had to wipe out, my dearest, darling brother Neddy, lies in my family's crypt, these six years, now, in Saint Bernard's Church yard, in Saint Bernard's parish!
He lies there, because I never had the understanding I have now that you were someone boys like these must be protected from, sir! You are in no way, shape or form a gentleman! You are a miserable, callous, brutal dastard! I have done and ordered done horrendous things! And my own two hands run red with innocent blood, I know that, sir. But compared to yours, sir, they are nearly pristine! But now, I think all this must come to it's proper end, do you not agree with me, sir? Do you not believe all the horrors we've created between us, must come to it's proper end, now?''
''What we've created between us, madame?'' Moray echoed, alternately staring at her and looking around as if he thought she'd called her troops in to take him. '' I must insist, I do not know in the least what you have reference to. I have, at all times and under all conditions obeyed your orders, as the devoted widow of my old friend and Commander, General Pascale.
I have, under the most difficult of circumstances, supported and defended you against all comers, ma'am. I have supplied you with all you needed to know of those who spoke or worked against you, the Company or the grand endeavors. And all this I have done without any thought, much less receipt of remuneration in the slightest! ''
''Oh, do not worry on that account, Heydon Palmerston. The time has come at long last for you to be fully, rightfully compensated for all your countless efforts! ''the Widow answered.
'' And I am glad to hear that, ma'am, as my own backing of these ventures has sadly depleted … '' Moray began to say.
'' The funds you got from your filthy profiteering during the Conflict, Heydon Palmerston? Are those the resources of your elegant, arrogant, murderous, libelous, pseudo aristocratic way of living from the last years of the Conflict until now, that you refer to as depleted? My G-d, man, how much wealth does a villain such as yourself require to maintain his horrible existence?'' Pascale asked, not truly expecting any answer.
'' Madame Pascale, you have shown such tender concern for this young… interloper… '' Moray said, lowering his own tone and yet almost sneering at her. '' You were just pronouncing your contentment that he's fallen asleep. Surely you don't wish these angry tones and strange accusations of yours to wake him? Surely you don't wish him any further harm than what he's already suffered, at your instigation and by your directives, do you?''
'' What I have done and ordered done, Heydon Palmerston, I fully expect, and indeed intend to make full restitution for, to the last penny of my estate and the last drop of my blood, if need be.'' The Widow told him, moving quickly to keep between him and the cot on which Jess was stirring. ''I am even more well aware today, than I was after my first reading of one Aaron Benjamin Caulder's journals, of exactly what depths I have sunken to, these last six years, and of how that process actually began.
Ah, you are as surprised as my dear Lee Henry was, I see, to learn I've seen and read Caulder's papers. I see you don't know, as my brother didn't, that our poor murdered Colonel Howell, our dear Solomon in fact gave them to me, before he ever asked Lee Henry to decipher the Sergeant's intriguing, but not really difficult encryptions. Nevertheless, it was not only those sad and shocking records that told me what I should have known all this while.
It was also …''
'' This damnable young liar and menace, Harper?'' Moray insisted, striding closer to the Widow and her charge.
''Actually, no. What gave me the full understanding I have now were your own actions, against my Twin, of course, and then, even less necessary, your violent deeds against this boy and against My Company! You should not have acted the part of my family's friend when all you wanted was my family's fortune! You should not have sent your band of brothers to murder Solomon Howell, Addison Deveraux and attempt the murders of their supporters. Nor should you have instructed your allies to do all they could to set myself and my Dearest Twin at cross purposes.
Nor should you ever, ever, Heydon Palmerston, have told my dearest younger brother the black and heinous lies I now know you filled his mind with! That egregiously despicable old story was never believed by anyone in N'Olins! And yet you turned it against my Neddy, causing him the torment of believing that damnable calumny against his own father! You should never have come to me after Neddy died with yet more lies about him and his young friends from Texas.
And to close out the catalogue, you should never have lied to me, Heydon Palmerston, about my brother's last illness, when there was the least chance in the world that I could find you out and expose you! You are a contemptible conscienceless, utterly unimaginable dastard! You are a consummate deceiver, and an utter madman! And I will not allow anyone else I care for to be so much as threatened by you!'' The Widow declared.
Moray glared at the widow now as if he'd never seen her before, she thought. And perhaps that was accurate. It had been at least six years, to some extent since she'd felt at all herself as much as she did this instant. It had been more like ten, nearly eleven years since she'd felt genuinely alive. She'd not only lived, but perpetuated a nightmare. She was more than ready for an end. In that much, she knew herself sane, again. In what she meant to do now, she knew her long-lived madness remained, tempting her to
utter destruction.
And it was a bitterly strong temptation, one she'd failed to resist for so long. And all that… the widow shivered to realize was made all the worse by knowing she'd made common cause with this monster, the one she should have been seeking, should have long since uncovered and rendered limb from limb! No doubt he likewise wished to destroy her now.
And ironically she'd almost be glad enough to let him do so. But only if she could return the favor… Clearly he still underestimated the gigantic strength her aggrieved self loathing fueled, now. Perhaps, all she need do was to act the broken, vastly weakened creature he perceived. She studied his twitching, icy eyes and knew she could trip up this monster in the guise of a Charleston 'aristocrat' by simply displaying the frailty he believed she could never overcome. She knew what needed done. And she held herself ready.
'' And I have not suffered your insults and your mad caprices all these many years, Madame, to be robbed of my just recompense at the last instant! I wanted your family fortune you say, No, Madame, by this point, I've more than earned it! I lied to your Neddy, you say, well, I did more than that, Madame, I preyed upon him, even as his shameful dependence made him more and more needful of me! I lied to you about those Texas ruffians your precious brother befriended despite the evident bar to their association, you say?
The devil you say, Madame, I was right, I was always right about that! Joining with those hooligans, those barely educated, barely tamed young savages, that is what ultimately destroyed the boy you and I both wished to cherish! And this damn young interloper, here? This damn fool dies now, as he should have ten years or three years, or at the least some three months ago! He dies, in the next few minutes, my Dear Lady, because in this syringe is enough morphine sulfate to stop the respirations of an elephant! And his death will be seen to be at your orders, Madame, I do assure you.
This is, after all, what you have all this while so greatly desired, is it not? Have you not longed to see this piece of human flotsam die of the same over dosage of narcotics that took your precious, dearest darling Master Edward Denys Augustin from you? Well, I took that precious, precocious, overly admired and finally utterly abandoned lad from your world, Madame. And now I will take the last of his cherished cohorts entirely out of the living world, as well!'' Moray all but screamed at her, and took one more long step across the room, to stand on the other side of the cot she guarded. Moving almost too swiftly for Pascale to watch, he pulled a syringe from his vest pocket, and swung his arm viciously, to put the needle against Jess' arm.
''No, Heydon Palmerston, you will not.'' Eugenie Pascale quietly responded, and lifting her right hand, she aimed and fired her derringer's two rounds unerringly into Moray's chest. Falling, and flailing as he did so, Moray somehow kept hold of the syringe, until he'd collapsed across the end of the cot. Dying even as he lay there, the prosecutor once more reached with all his remaining strength to drive the deadly dangerous device into Jess' leg.
''No!'' Pascale cried, as in the next instant, the Widow put her own left shoulder in the path of that needle. Her mauve silks were no protection, nor did she want any, now. The drug entered her system so near the heart as to all but stop its rhythm in another instant.
All she could do now, Pascale realized was to shove the dying prosecutor to the floor, and pray, however hopelessly that her young charge hadn't heard Moray's final, all too truthful accusations.
''Ma'am?'' Jess muttered, ending her hopes in that regard. '' Missus… Eugenie… did he… did he hurt you?''
''No, my lad. No.'' She whispered, laying one soft hand against his face. '' I'm … perfectly all right, now. I'm … happy… And you are safe, at long last… The nightmare… Our long nightmare's over.''
''You… you're shiverin'.'' Jess protested, squinting at her, and smiling when he saw her wide, amazing eyes smiling back.
'' Well, it's early morning, and someone must have left the dormers open.'' Pascale told him, with an ironic laugh. '' I… shall have to get after my boys … about that… Someone could catch… their death of cold!''
''Neddy…. I can remember him, now… Ma'am… He loved you… .terribly… '' Jess said, thinking that was the only thing he knew that might comfort her at all. ''He did, truly.''
''Ah, now that I know. He's never truly left me, you see, not in … any way that matters.'' The Widow answered. '' But I do thank you for sharing what you've… recalled. It was almost like having Neddy here, beside me, once again. Please, excuse me for a little while, my dearest Jacob, won't you? I … am .. I should be finding out what's become of … our dinner… ''
Slowly, laboriously she pushed herself almost to her feet now. But the drug, that in smaller doses might have warmed her or her patient, now sent a numbing chill through all her limbs and down into her core. Shaking her head, laughing at herself, she smiled at Jess again and sat on the bench beside his cot.
''I'm afraid you're plumb worn out, from fightin' him off, from helpin' me, again.'' Jess frowned. '' Please, you should just take it easy, now… He could've killed you!''
''Oh, no, no, you needn't fear that. I have a twin brother, you see and we've known all our lives that each of us could only die at the same moment as the other. So, you need have no fears for me, my Dearest Twin is alive and well, and thriving on … the challenges of the moment. He has, always… we both have, really.'' Pascale assured the boy she'd come to truly care for, almost as another younger brother. ''And you, I believe also have a brother and sister still surviving, don't you, Jacob?''
Jess shook his head, and managed half a smile. The way she said his birth name made him feel not only warmly cherished, but very much like a little boy again. And being able to remember his two living siblings felt like a thousand pound weight dropping off his shoulders.
'' Danny, an' Francie… yeah. Danny's takin' care of Granpa Nate's place, in east Texas, these days. That's… where we all grew up… for th' most part, he's stayin' there with his wife, Nell. Danny… probably thinks I plumb forgot 'bout him… I pretty much don't write… An' Francie… she's out in California… out near Sacramento… with Ben, that's her husband… Mebbee I already told y' this an' don't recall it… Francie' gonna …have a child… She wrote me… Ma'am? Are you sure you're all right now?''
''Of course I am!'' the Widow lied, turning back to him after letting her gaze drift awhile, knowing she couldn't keep this deception up much longer. ''And you really should be … resting… I'll just … ring for … my boys… to help you get … comfortable, again. And then I'll finish that last chapter of Mister Dickens' fine story for you.''
As the boy on the cot settled back, Pascale smiled and reached for the bell pull at the window beside her. Then she took his hand in both her own. She didn't reach for the book. She didn't need to open it or look, or listen any longer for her lost, beloved faces, voices and spirits, as they were crowding close around her again, finally, now:
"I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy, in that England which I shall see no more. I see Her with a child upon her bosom, who bears my name. I see her father, aged and bent, but otherwise restored, and faithful to all men in his healing office, and at peace. I see the good old man, so long their friend, in ten years' time enriching them with all he has, and passing tranquilly to his reward.
I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. I see her, an old woman, weeping for me on the anniversary of this day. I see her and her husband, their course done, lying side by side in their last earthly bed, and I know that each was not more honoured and held sacred in the other's soul, than I was in the souls of both.
"I see that child who lay upon her bosom and who bore my name, a man winning his way up in that path of life, which once was mine. I see him winning it so well, that my name is made illustrious there by the light of his. I see the blots I threw upon it, faded away. I see him, fore-most of just judges and honoured men, bringing a boy of my name, with a forehead that I know and golden hair, to this place-- then fair to look upon, with not a trace of this day's disfigurement --and I hear him tell the child my story, with a tender and a faltering voice.
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done, it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known." [ Finis, A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens, 1860 ]
Her silken voice going silent was the first thing Jess remembered, later, taking note of. Her soft, hands sliding away from his as if they now belonged to a broken puppet, came next. Then her head of silvery-fair dancing curls bowed to rest against his pillows, and her slender form collapsed into his arms. Only then did the young east Texan see the fatal syringe falling from its hiding place amongst her silks.
''Ah, G-d!'' Jess whispered, his own voice strained and weakened, his eyes streaming tears he didn't care to stop. '' Ah, no! Ah, G-d, no! No, you can't be gone, not now! You can't be! Please, don't be gone! Please, don't be!''
Now, as if she were a sleeping child, Jess cradled her and rocked her, whispering his hopeless pleas into her shining locks, into her still warm shoulder, into her silk clad arm. He wanted nothing more than to see her bright eyes turning to smile at him, her soft hand reaching to lay against his face, or her warm voice, saying his birth name. And he knew none of that could ever happen.