Chapter 128 - Eyes Wide Open:
Someone coughed. It startled Cilla, that sudden noise. Not a cough, it was an awful hack and wrenched breathing, like someone desperately clawing for air. A chest burning, wet cough, deep and rattly. It went on for so long. Cilla's chest hurt like fire. How awful for whoever it was. She lay back down, breathing a little easier now. Thoughts drifted by, floating, as hard to catch as as smoke. It was hot, so very hot, like a stifling summers day; the sort of heat that made you just want to sit beneath a tree and not move for hours. But it was winter, wasn't it? Richard really should douse the fire. No point even having one, in the middle of Summer.
Drifting, drifting. Floating in the blackness. It was nice here, cosy and warm and safe.
She could barely hear the screaming from here.
She floated, feeling wonderful in that darkness. The coughing noise was gone now and she began to drift further into the deep. Not the scary sort of darkness with awful noises and frightening shadows. The lovely sort of darkness where pretty dreams waited. She'd seen Beth there, sitting in a tent, at a rickety table across from Banastre. She looked happy. And Banastre… Well, he looked handsome. Handsome Banastre with his very clever hands and lips to set a woman's blood to burning. His auburn hair was loose. He always looked so sweet, with those auburn strands loose. He had such a handsome face, a sweet, boyish smile, smooth skin, like porcelain. He was strong too, for such a small man. Cilla laughed softly, as she eyed him up and down. He was small. Slight, wiry build. Five feet seven inches, if she was being generous.
She wasn't being mean, she was really very fond of Banastre. But Richard was so much taller. Easily six feet and a build to make a blacksmith jealous. So strong… Both men were strong. She gazed at Banastre, who saw her, and smiled back. He held his hand out to her, and beckoned. He stood within the doorway of her uncle's room, blanket wrapped around his nudity, long hair lank and in desperate need of a wash. He'd been in his sickbed for so long… She knew the strength of the man quite well. And could know it again now if she but stepped through that door. Her body burned, her breath quickened. Anticipation. Those clever hands which had bought her ecstasy and peace. Lord, to feel them on her again…
With a sad smile, she turned from Banastre and glided instead into Richard's arms. When she glanced back toward the doorway, it was empty. Banastre was gone.
No matter. Ban has Beth, she thought, gazing up into Richard's blue eyes. He won't pine for long. And Cilla would not pine at all.
Darkness welled like black, smoky clouds billowing over her.
Banastre truly was gone, after that. There was only Richard, his fingers on her hand, touching her brow. His lips brushing her cheek. His quiet rumble first, then another, lighter, more feminine murmur answering. Mrs. Andrews? Cilla liked Mrs. Andrews. She wished she hadn't been so awful to Mrs. Andrews that day, for she hadn't deserved it. She wished she could hear what they were saying now. Why wouldn't they speak up? The voices dwindled away and Cilla no longer cared, she had no energy to chase after them in the darkness. Chasing memories was like chasing smoke. It felt too nice, just floating.
But even this deep in the darkness, the screaming followed. It sounded like someone's soul was being torn from their body. Her body. It was a woman sobbing so wretchedly. Like her world had come to an end, her life was over. What could be so bad, that someone could sound so? And the yelling. Sweet Lord above! Something smashed, the sound crashed through the house. A woman's shrill voice filled to bursting with unimaginable fury. Harmony sure did have a temper, but she'd never sounded like this.
"… Don't even know you!" The screaming was closer, that's why it was penetrating Cilla's beautiful darkness. Just outside the door, now.
"Not here, Harmony! You'll wake her!"
"Don't you pretend to care about her! After what you did to her! I knew you did things, you warned me you had! But I never imagined it would be so bad as this! I never thought you could be capable of -" The shrill voice choked off, such wretched sobs followed, that even in that floating darkness, Cilla was struck hard by it. Poor Harmony. So upset she didn't know whether to cry or yell. What could have happened, to render her to such a state? "You are evil, a monster!" Yelling, then. Harmony decided to yell some more.
"Cilla has forgiven me!" Richard's deep voice, desperate, trying to be understood. To be believed.
"LIAR! NO ONE COULD EVER FORGIVE YOU FOR DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT!" The screech - louder than any of the others. As though Harmony were right with her, right in the darkness, an angry floating wolf snapping at your heels. "No more lies! No more! I will not stay here, not with you! Monster! I'm going home!"
Oh no, Cilla sighed. If she had eyes to close, she'd close them now. If she could weep in that darkness, she'd sob, for all the pain in Harmony's voice, and the pain those words would be giving to Richard. Confusing. I should be happy she's going… Shouldn't I? She barely knew. Coherent thoughts alluded her; if she had them, they drifted by too quickly to catch. She thought she should be pleased that Harmony was going. But all she knew were those voices, all she felt were those voices, and the raw emotion they carried. How could anyone be happy when surrounded by such awful agony?
"Don't you try to stop me… I'm going home!"
Richard spoke again - a denial. Voice firm, anger entering that deep rumble.
"You can't make me stay!" Harmony declared, even angrier than before.
"You will not take my child!" Richard shouted.
A door slammed down the hall. The voices were a little further away now, not right outside the door. Still near enough - and angry enough - to penetrate Cilla's happy darkness.
"…Evil!"
"I am not evil - I -"
"Don't you dare! You have no defence - not for this! You knew what Calvin did to me! What he made me do with Clement! All this time I've been in your bed, thinking you're a better man than them, but you're not! How could you have duped me so! No, William, you stay back! You stay the hell out of this!"
"Harmony, you need to calm down -" That was definitely William Tavington. Cilla had never warmed to him. She didn't like his voice in her darkness. She tried to drift deeper, and for a long moment, she thought she'd managed to escape the bitter emotions. But then -
"Don't you speak to me, don't you dare! You knew what he did and you told me nothing, you kept me in the dark as he did! And you! How could you do such a vile, horrid, disgusting..!" Harmony spluttered off, as though she could not think of the words. The men were silent. "You are both monsters! And all this time, all the lies! You're disgusting, foul! I am leaving, I'm going home!"
Cilla was confused. Was Harmony arguing with Richard or William?
"Oh, for the sake of our Lord above and all our sanities, let her go!" Mila whispered fiercely. Cilla was stunned. Mila's voice was so much louder than Harmony's, though it'd been only a whisper. Right near her ear, that's why. Cilla hadn't realised she wasn't alone. It was startling.
And shocking; as much as she liked Mila, she would have rebuked her. Servants should not have opinions about those they serve. But she could not form the words to tell Mila so. Her mouth wouldn't work. Her mind slipped, she couldn't remember what it was she was going to say. The yelling dwindled as it ventured further away; down the hall. It was accompanied by an odd scraping sound - that screaming - as if something heavy was being dragged. Very strange, all of it. She couldn't make heads or tails of it.
"She's gone," Mila whispered…
Time slipped through Cilla's fingers. Though in this place, she didn't have fingers, did she? Time slipped through Cilla's darkness.
How much, she couldn't tell. Only there were more memories now, crowding the darkness, as impossible to catch as all the others. Richard, sitting by her bedside, weeping. Someone running a wet cloth across her brow. Some awful person forcing her to sit when she just wanted to lay there and dream. But no, those awful someones held her up, pulled her shift from her body despite her feeble protests, ran a wash cloth all over her chest and back. That'd felt nice, though. A clean shift pushed over her head and down her body. That had happened a few times, now. A click, click, click, click sound, like someone was knitting. That awful wracking cough, the wheezing, gasping, panicked feeling in her stomach and chest. Soft talking, between women. Then between men, they sounded like her cousins. impossible. Richard's voice, worried, because she wasn't getting any better. She had no idea who he was talking about, but Cilla worried along with him, moved by the terror in his voice. She hoped whomever it was got better soon, for his sake. He'd be devastated if she died, she knew it for she'd heard him say so several times.
Above it all, was the feeling - the wonderful feeling - the darkness was just so… Lovely. It made her want to giggle, it felt so good. Like she was being stretched out and carried on a warm summers day. Lord, she felt so good, eternal ecstasy. Too lovely for crying. Why was she crying? Oh, she wasn't. Not Cilla. Someone else. Two pinpricks of light flared in the darkness, two circles growing larger. Cilla floated toward them, in no particular hurry. She was curious, to find out what was beyond those tunnels of flickering light. She was curious, to find out the source of that noise…
"…Said s-such awful things t-to you," the voice stammered, stuttering, the way one does when trying to speak through tears. Cilla felt sorry for her. The two lights flickered and then Cilla was there, gazing through. They were like windows, she realised. Flickering windows. Harmony's face resolved out of the darkness and floated before her. "Such awful things. You deserved none of them. Richard said you didn't deserve it, that it wasn't your fault. I refused to believe him though. I thought you'd trapped him. I thought you took advantage of him, that you seduced him for information but then decided you wanted an Officer for a husband," Harmony's bright blue eyes swam with tears. Cilla had always envied those eyes. So pretty. Like two shining sapphires, while Cilla's were… were just plain old brown… No pretty stone to describe her eyes.
A giggle bubbled up in her chest. Beth's eyes were exactly the same shade and she would not like to have her eyes described as being 'just plain old brown'. She sighed, how she missed Beth…
"How could I have gotten it so wrong?" Harmony said, and Cilla tried hard to concentrate. It was like trying to follow the path of a single flame in a blazing fire. Impossible, especially when the flame whisked and whirled and then just disappeared and seemed to reappear and reform and - oh, just impossible. But she tried. "Why would you of all people want a British Officer for a husband? You tried to point that out to me, but I wouldn't have it. I was so certain you snatched him from me. Lured him… I was blind, Cilla. And filled with bitterness and anger." - Bitterness and anger, Cilla thought. So much better when you let those things go. - "I'm so sorry… It was never you, you never trapped him. It was his fault," she hissed. "His doing, all of it," her voice hardened, she was still weeping, struggling to speak, struggling through a range of emotions. Cilla stared at the floating face, fascinated. "What sort of a monster is he? To force himself on you, to do those awful things. Oh, you must have been so terrified! I'm so sorry, Cilla. For believing all his lies. God, when I think of it all now, I can see through them so clearly. I wish I'd seen through it before. I wish I'd suspected him instead of you. I wish I'd asked you the right questions, maybe you would have been honest with me. You might have opened up to me. God knows you probably needed a friend, you probably needed someone to talk to, and I would have been there for you, because I've been through all of it too. I wish I'd've been there for you," Harmony broke again, "instead of fighting against you, making you feel so much worse and after everything you'd been through, too. That was the last thing you needed! Gods, I don't know how you've gotten through any of this alone. You're so strong!"
Strong? Cilla didn't think so. Her arms were so slight, she didn't even have Banastre's wiry muscles, let alone Richard's massive arms. Both men had picked her up and carried her - Banastre to his bed, Richard to that cabin… Cilla wouldn't even be able to carry a child five steps in her little arms. Strong? No… She didn't have muscles at all. Harmony was weeping again. Because Cilla wasn't strong? Such a strange, confusing conversation. The weeping stopped again, Harmony's voice was strong again. Firm, and bitter.
"I just can't believe how he could lie like that. With such a straight face. Like he was so used to it, like it was nothing to him. Second nature. Gods. The things he knew I believed, and he never saw fit to correct me. Why in the world would you want him for a husband? That alone should have made me question him, you never liked the British and I should have known you'd never approach any man for bedding and as for a husband - you'd never willingly marry a Redcoat. I was so jealous though, so ready to believe the worst of you. All that time, he was lying. Wretchedly lying. Such an awful thing he did… No words…"
The lying? Cilla was confused. Was the lying the awful thing he did? Harmony couldn't tell her. She'd trailed off, she was crying into her hands. Cilla reached out a hand, or at least she thought she did, and she wrapped her fingers around Harmony's. Can you have fingers in that floating darkness? There were only heads and disembodied voices. But her husband's mistress looked absurdly grateful.
"…I can't bear to look at him. How can you bear it? He told me everything," Harmony's voice caught, she paused, as if horrified by a new and unpleasant notion. "At least I think he did; how could I possibly know for sure? I can't trust him. He is such a liar. And he said you forgive him. I don't believe that. Only a man would believe a woman could forgive that. Another lie. Even now, he lies to me. I can't believe anything he says. I could never forgive Calvin or that bastard who took me, again and again," again, her voice dropped low, tears and fury.
Can you forgive a person even more than when you first forgave them? Cilla asked the darkness. It had been her friend for so long now, keeping her company as she drifted. It'd never replied to her though, all it did was show her hints of memories that she could not catch. And it didn't speak to her now. No answer from the darkness. Maybe Harmony would know? Harmony was pretty clever… She opened her mouth and asked, "can you forgive a person even more than when you first forgave them?"
Harmony's face didn't change though. She didn't give Cilla a questioning look, as one does when pondering. It was as though she hadn't heard Cilla speak at all. Perhaps she hadn't. But Cilla was certain she'd said the words. Hadn't she? Harmony had to have heard her. Harmony was right there, floating in the darkness with her. Wasn't she? And Cilla could hear Harmony, after all. So Harmony should be able to hear her, shouldn't she? Why couldn't Harmony hear her? She tried again, floating there, she said, "you know. Like when you realise you love a person. But then that person does things every day that make you feel so special, and then you realise you love them even more than when you first realised you loved them? When you fall deeply in love, is there a bottom to it? To that depth?" Was she making sense? Harmony's tear streaked face floated in the abject darkness, squished, puzzled, as if asking 'huh?'. Cilla continued, or tried to. "I think forgiveness is like that. You already forgive, because you're ready to, and because you need to, or the bitterness and anger will bury you. And so you release it all, and you forgive them. Only then the person does something that makes them deserving of it even more."
Like telling Harmony the truth. Cilla's breast swelled 'till she thought it would burst. She didn't want anyone else to know, but she was glad this once. Richard had told Harmony the truth - the full truth. He must have done. Or Harmony would not be floating with Cilla in the darkness, weeping and saying the things she was saying. Lord, how hard would that have been for Richard? Cilla's bursting heart went out to him. The door clicked open. Harmony whirled, panicked for some reason. Then she breathed a sigh of relief and clutched her chest, as if her heart was racing.
"Oh, it's only you," she said. Even her voice was breathy. With a great effort of will, Cilla turned her head on the pillow and watched as Mrs. Andrews drew closer. Cilla smiled, or tried to.
"Miss Cordell will be ready to take your place soon," Mrs. Andrews said to Harmony. "How is she?"
"Unchanged," Harmony said, sighing. "I think she's breathing a little easier now. And she doesn't feel as hot as she did yesterday. She did open her eyes for a moment just now while I was speaking to her."
"That's a good sign. Did she speak to you?"
"Her lips moved, she murmured something. But no, not really."
"What are you talking about? I spoke right at you!" Cilla said, puzzled. Neither woman acknowledged her.
"If her fever is lessening and if she's trying to speak to us, then we can start giving her less laudanum now. It's not good for people to take it for too long," Mrs. Andrews said. Those tunnels of light appeared again, flickering, and beyond them, was Mrs. Andrew's face, hovering over Cilla's, peering down. The tunnels flickered shut, and Mrs. Andrews' face floated in the darkness. Which was a good thing, it was too much effort, looking at people through those tunnel windows. "And how are you?" Mrs. Andrews asked. Not Cilla. The question was for Harmony, Cilla understood. "You've been crying again."
"I wish I could stop..." Harmony said, voice bitter, down, like something dragged on the ground. "I thought you were him just now. I don't like to come up here when I don't know where he is, when he might walk in at any moment."
"He knows you're here," Mrs. Andrews said. "I heard him say so just now. He's waiting for you to leave before he comes up."
"So he's avoiding me, too? And well he should," Harmony's voice changed to a growl.
"I wouldn't know about that," Mrs. Andrews said, sounding prim. "Not when you won't tell me what it is he did."
You mustn't tell. No on else. No more, Cilla thought. It was getting hard for Cilla to concentrate on all those voices; her father was talking to her too now. He had such a warm smile for her, his hands outstretched toward her. She reached for one of his, and wound her other hand through her mother's arm. It was good too see them again, it'd been far too long…
It was far more uncomfortable now she was awake. Properly awake. No more lingering in the darkness with a confusion of faces and voices. Cilla understood now, that much of what she experienced in the darkness were dreams bought on by her fever and the laudanum. Some of it had been real, however. She had heard her cousin's voices, for they had indeed come to visit her. She kept Nathan's rabbit foot on the table near her pillow. Other things were real, too. Harmony's visits, her taking turns with the other women to watch over her. Harmony's weeping, her anger and remorse. All of that had been real.
Harmony moved around the bed now, tucking in the blankets. She would not meet Cilla's eyes, not now she was awake. They were alone, Cilla propped against the pillows, her chest afire with pain. All that coughing, it made her feel as though someone had punched her in the chest. With a blacksmith's hammer. Gods, it hurt. But she was breathing far more easily now. As long as she breathed through her mouth. Her smashed nose hurt even more than her chest.
It really was the simple things in life, which made life so enjoyable. Like being able to pull in air without almost dying from wracking coughs. She felt so weak, wrung out like a dish rag. But she was beyond the danger now. She'd even been up out of bed a short while ago, she'd sat in the chair by the window and gazed outward into the driving rain. Another of life's simple pleasures. Being snuggled up inside, safe and warm and dry, watching the rain lash the windows. She hadn't lasted there for long. Long enough for Mila and Vickie to remove the soiled sheets and replace them with clean, dry ones. Long enough for Mila to help Cilla change her shift for a clean one, and put on clean stockings. Then she was back in bed. She could still see the rain from here, though. Now that Richard had moved the bed for her. She'd lamented to him over not being able to turn to look out the window behind her. The next thing she knew, Richard was marching out, and then back into the room with several privates. She was bade to stand, and even then the men kept their gazes averted. Richard held her, his hands on her waist, while the soldiers worked to move furniture to make way for the bed to be moved. Now, she had only to turn her gaze to the right, and she could look out the window.
Harmony's cape was wet. It hung on a hook near the fire. The front of her hair was damp too, and the bottom of her skirt. She'd trudged up to the house in the rain. For her turn of sitting vigil over Cilla. Cilla turned back to Harmony now, as Harmony took a seat by the bed.
"How are you feeling?" Harmony asked. She sat so straight, so tall. Stiffly. Hands primly in her lap before the bulge of her stomach. Pregnant, and trudging up in the rain, every single day. Wasn't she afraid she'd catch a chill?
"My chest hurts," Cilla admitted, rubbing her hand against her chest above her breasts. Her nose and her ankle both hurt as well. "And my throat. Lord above, I don't think I've ever been so sick."
"We were worried you would die," Harmony said. There had always been a pleasant lift to her full lips, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. Except during the times they'd fought… It was gone now. It was what made Harmony so pretty, what made people want to immediately like her, that ever present hint of a smile. Cilla wondered if it'd ever return. This serious earnestness did not suit her nearly as well.
"I wasn't worried," Cilla said. "I wasn't here at all, if you know what I mean. I miss laudanum. It was so nice…"
"I know, it's wonderful," the smile returned, a flare, gone too swiftly. "But dangerous, if you listen to Mrs. Andrews. She would have stopped the dosage days ago, if not for the doctor."
"They argued a lot, didn't they?" Cilla could remember now, the doctor and Mrs. Andrews, standing in the doorway, arguing. Until the doctor declared that he was an educated gentleman, he'd been to university, he knew his business and would not entertain Mrs. Andrews any longer. Tavington had been walking by at the time and the doctor had turned to the Colonel to lay his complaint before him. William had listened gravely as the doctor demanded that Mrs. Andrews be removed from interfering with his patient, lest the stupid, foolish woman kill her. Of course, the Colonel must not have heeded this demand, for Mrs. Andrews had visited many times even after that.
"Mrs. Andrews argued," Harmony corrected. "The doctor ignored her. And in turn, Mrs. Andrews ignored him. Much of what he instructed us to do was not done. Except for the laudanum. Mrs. Andrews lost that fight, because…" She trailed off. Her blue eyes filled, she gazed out the window, biting her lower lip. Her fingers trembled. She appeared to be trying to gather herself. Grief, heartache crossed her features. Then disappeared and were replaced by implacable rage. Cilla didn't think it was possible, but Harmony became even stiffer. Richard. Cilla remembered that now, too. Richard had sided with the doctor, he'd said Cilla was to continue with the laudanum. And Mrs. Andrews had known better than to argue with him. It's why Harmony trailed off now, stopping herself before mentioning Richard's name.
He was to begin sleeping with Cilla again, from that night forward. She was looking forward to it. She wasn't certain where he'd been spending his nights during her sickness, but now she was better and he would begin occupying his side of the bed. It'd be so different now, she knew. Her heart began to pound. He'd sleep next to her, now, as he had in those last few days before Harmony had been bought to live in the house. He'd hold her, now. And do other things, as soon as she was ready. She was ready for those things now…
"Where is he?" She asked Harmony. Whose face didn't alter even slightly. Implacable rage.
"Who knows? Not here," she shrugged, as if she did not care. And perhaps she truly didn't. She believed that the man she'd been in love with never existed. She'd mourn that man, as if he'd died. But Richard was not that man, therefore; she didn't care where he was or what he did. As long as he was not near her, that was all she cared about.
"He comes in after you leave," Cilla said, trying not to sigh. "So he must be close."
"Do you want some water?" Harmony asked, as if to change the topic.
"Yes, please," while Harmony rose to pour from the ewer into a silver goblet, Cilla watched her closely. "How are you - and the baby? You've barely rested in days, it must be taking its toll."
"I'm fine. The baby is fine," Harmony said. She handed over the cup and resumed her seat. There was a set to her jaw. She did not want to talk about the baby. Or Richard. Or anything skirting too close to either.
"Where are you living?" In the tents, Cilla knew that much. She took a small sip - it hurt to swallow.
"With Mrs. Andrews and Miss Cordell," Harmony said. Cilla found she was not surprised at all, to learn which tent Harmony was living in. It made sense. Harmony's shoulders began to slump, bright spots of colour bloomed upon her too pale cheeks. In a softer, milder voice, she asked, "do you remember much of the last few days? I spoke to you often…"
"I remember," Cilla said. "It was confusing, I thought Beth was here too -"
"Would that she was," Harmony said emphatically.
"She'd be a comfort to us both," Cilla agreed. "But yes, I've been able to separate dream from real. Sort of, anyway. I remember some of the things you said…"
Harmony hung her head. "It was much easier to speak to you when you were taking laudanum. It's so much harder now you're a-awake!" The last few words were almost incoherent, as, over come, Harmony dropped her face to her hands and began to sob. Cilla placed the cup on the side stand, she threw her weak legs over the side of the bed, and calmly pulled Harmony into her arms. Harmony clung, weeping into Cilla's shoulder, drenching her shift. It would need to be changed again, after this. Cilla said nothing, she just kept her arms around Harmony's shaking shoulders and rubbed her back. Harmony blubbered, Cilla could just make out the words. Enough to understand. "I w-was so awful t-to you and all that t-time, you were c-carrying such an awful thing. I was jealous, so r-ready to b-believe the worst of you and it was him, the entire time, it was all him! I'm s-so s-sorry. I am so ashamed!" And still Harmony clung, not willing to let go, even after she succumbed and was no longer able to speak. It didn't matter. She'd said it all previously, Cilla had heard her, even if she hadn't been able to understand fully at the time. She remembered all that Harmony had said, she remembered all the grief and remorse and shame.
"Shh," Cilla soothed, rubbing Harmony's back, as Harmony continued to weep. Each had their arms around the other, holding tight. They'd been rivals before, but now… Cilla didn't know what they were. Joined, somehow, from the similar abuses of their past. The wrongdoings done to them by men. They were kindred somehow, now. "You didn't know the truth, then," Cilla said. "You didn't know what you were doing. You were ignorant. Sorry to be blunt, but you were. You believed what you'd been led to believe. I think I would have acted the same, under those circumstances."
"He lied. So many lies. All to hide the monster he truly is," Harmony began to pull away. Her pretty face was ragged now, lines around her red, puffy eyes. Her face was too pale again. Her eyes dull and haunted. In a muted voice, she said, "I can't believe it. If it had been someone else telling me, I would not have believed it. What he did to you…"
"Is that why you left?" Cilla asked.
"I could not in good conscience stay with him after that, baby or no baby. He won't let me leave entirely," she was angry about this, but it was as though she couldn't drum up the energy needed to sound it. She spoke in a quiet, muted sort of way. "I'm forced to stay, because of the baby. If not for him, I'd be in Grindal Shoals by now. With my parents," she sounded wistful. She brushed fresh tears from her cheeks. "It's been a long time."
"I want to thank you," Cilla said. She settled back against the pillows, but she reached for Harmony's hand. Their fingers interlaced. Harmony gave her a questioning look. "I remember hearing some of it - the fight you had. And I remember the things you said during your turns at watching over me. We've had our differences you and I, back when you believed untruths. But when those truths were finally revealed, you came down on my side. You could have made excuses for him, it would have made an easier life for you, if you had. But you left, instead."
"How could I stay? I've told you what Calvin forced me to do with his superior. He beat me when I refused, beat me so bad I was too terrified to do anything but obey. The Colonel saw the bruises, he didn't even care. He took me anyway, even knowing I was not willing. Again and again. And he paid Calvin handsomely, like I was just a doxy. I hope he's suffering. I hope they both are, wherever they might be. Bastards, both of them. For what they forced me to. If Richard told me only half the truth of what he did to you, it's enough to condemn him forever in my eyes. I might have behaved very badly toward you these months, but I'm not an awful person Cilla. If I'd known from the start, I would have left him long ago."
"I know that now," Cilla said, giving Harmony's fingers a squeeze. "My opinion of you has altered greatly these last few days."
"And mine of you," Harmony heaved a sigh.
"It was his greatest fear, you know," Cilla said, cocking her head to one side. "That you'd leave." Harmony tightened her lips. "He was terrified of losing you but in the end, he told you anyway. It took great courage to tell you the truth."
"Courage?" Harmony sounded surprised. Her eyes narrowed, her lips drew tight. Pointedly, she asked, "he said you'd forgiven him. I refused to believe it though, I could never forgive Calvin or that bastard whose bed he put me in. After all his lies, I assumed this was another."
"I never thought I could, although I knew he was sorry from the start," Cilla said. How to explain? In only a matter of a few months, everything had changed. Yet it felt like years, their slow healing. How could one explain the evolution of it, how she'd come to this point? Should she even try? Did she have to? She felt what she felt, was it anyone's business but her own? Then again, Harmony wasn't simply 'anyone'. It was not so simple as that, not by a long shot. "Forgiveness is an act of compassion," she said, deciding to try. "Richard's soul was bleeding. He'd done so much to make amends and would have spent the rest of his life, trying. But in the end, that wasn't why I forgave him. It's because I needed it. Because of the pain I was in. It was killing me. He could have spent the rest of his life, trying to release us of that awful, suffocating, burying weight we were under. But I was the only one who could."
It was clear Harmony did not understand. Oh, she understood the words, but not the concept. "After what he did to you, he deserves that great pain. He deserves a thousand painful deaths. He deserved -"
"But I don't," Cilla cut in and Harmony snapped her mouth shut. "I didn't deserve any of it, but I was stuck there, in that dungeon and I would have been for the rest of my life, unless I let myself out. As a consequence, I had to let him out too, though I'm fairly certain there's a large part of him still in there. I know what you're thinking, Harmony. He deserves the absolute worse pain and horrors life can inflict. For months, I felt that way also. But forgiveness is also an act of healing, Harmony. It helped me to heal," Cilla whispered, interrupting before Harmony could run away with such vengeful thoughts. "I was still in the dungeon and if I hadn't let go the pain and bitterness, I'd be there the rest of my life. I don't feel so heavy now, so weighed down. I feel light, like I could dance through the rest of my life. It's freeing, Harmony. The bitterness and anger, they were like a spike to my soul, keeping a part of me pinned in that awful dungeon. Both are gone now. I can breathe again now. I feel so warm, now."
"That's because you've recovered from this flux," Harmony scowled. "And you might still have a touch of that fever."
"You know that it is not that," Cilla smiled, squeezed Harmony's fingers. "There's healing in forgiveness. You say he deserves a thousand painful deaths. It was terrible, what Richard did, so mayhap he does, but I think you are talking about Lieutenant Farshaw, when you say that."
Tears spilled, Harmony dashed at them with her free hand. She glared at the closed door, body stiff, face hard. If she agreed, Cilla could not discern it.
"I'm not suggesting you forgive Farshaw," Cilla hurried on. "I don't know if you can forgive someone who is not sorry - that's something else entirely, a battle that - thank God - I do not have to face. After what he did to you; the beatings, putting you in that man's bed, kicking you while you were pregnant. He did awful things -"
"And Richard did awful things to you. I fail to see the difference," Harmony ground out.
"The difference is, Richard is sorry. He is so filled with remorse, it's taking all he has merely to get through every day. He is sorry, he has changed, he is a different man to the man in that dungeon. They wear the same face, but they are strangers. The man from the dungeon no longer exists, though a part of Richard's soul will always be trapped in there, even though I've set myself free. I don't think Richard will ever be able to do that for himself. That's the difference between Richard and Farshaw - Richard will punish himself for the rest of his life, while Farshaw isn't touched by remorse. Calvin Farshaw as he was then, is still Calvin Farshaw as he is now. How can you forgive someone who is not sorry? I'm not surprised you can't."
"I don't understand how you can be saying this," Harmony shook her head. "After what he did… One week, it's been. One week, since you tried to flee here. How could you have come to all this forgiveness in such a short time?"
"Oh, it's been a very long time coming," Cilla smiled, serene. "A very long time. I forgave him for me, and then I forgave him for him. I didn't flee here because of what he did to me in Charlestown. I fled because of what he wouldn't do for me here and now."
"And what was that?"
"Give me a child," Cilla admitted. "For promising you that he would never bed me. For denying me children. I didn't want to live a long, lonely life. Marriage isn't supposed to be like that, with one of you feeling like you're alone. Might as well not get married. I fled to start again, start anew, with another man."
"Who?" Harmony gasped and Cilla smiled.
"I shall rephrase that. I meant I was going to find another man, to start new with."
"Oh."
"I would have remarried, had the children Richard was denying me. And I would have freed you and him to be together as well. That's why I left. It had nothing to do with… The other thing," she said, referring to that day in the dungeon. Harmony looked puzzled, as though she were trying to think through a very difficult concept. And why should she understand? Cilla could never even imagine forgiving Farshaw. And Harmony would never be able to understand Cilla forgiving Richard.
"I wouldn't have wanted any of that," Harmony said. "Not now that I know the truth. We would have been living a lie. I would have been left to live with a monster."
"He's not evil," Cilla sighed. "The monster emerged once but never has again and never will -"
"I can't believe that," Harmony shook her head. "If he was a different man, he would not have maintained this lie for so long."
"We swore never to tell anyone - the amount of people who know already is too high. I know, you're not just anybody but I don't think he could ever have confided this to you, even if we hadn't vowed to not speak of it. He would have been too scared, he knew you might leave."
"He knows me well, I see," Harmony spat. She drew several deep breaths, eyes closed. Then she opened them, fixed those sapphires on Cilla. "I want to leave, Cilla. Will you come with me?" Harmony asked, leaning closer to Cilla, eyes intent. Cilla blinked up at her. Hadn't Harmony been listening? "When you're better, I mean. We could devise a way to slip the guards. You did it once, we can do it again, together. We'll leave, Cilla. Go to my parents home. I have money, enough for a good start. You and me, we'll use it to get home. My da will look after us both. We'll go and get Beth on the way. Your uncle is having no luck removing her from Banastre but if we showed up and talked sense into her, she'd leave with us for certain. The three of us, together. Come with me, Cilla. Let's both get away from him."
Cilla was somewhat touched, that Harmony wanted her to go with her, and that she would offer to use what must be only a small fortune to do so. It was misplaced, Harmony's fear, if she thought she was protecting Cilla from Richard. That was unnecessary.
"Harmony, he came for me. Not because he was worried about keeping face… But because he was terrified. For me. He was worried I might be in trouble, and I was, and he came for me. And he promised it would all be different now and I believe him and yes, I forgive him. I know you don't understand that, but frankly, you don't have to. I don't require you to. It is what it is. And it's better for him and I, that I do. We'll have a good life now. A better one than the one we were destined to have a week ago. I haven't known this sort of peace in so long…"
"If he fails you?" Harmony asked, unconvinced. There was hurt there, in those words, on her face. In the way she looked at Cilla now. Harmony was still deeply, deeply in love with Richard. Cilla understood that - love didn't disappear with the click of the fingers overnight. Gods, she knew that well. It made Cilla respect her all the more, that Harmony would leave the man she loved. It proved that Harmony was far more highly principled than Cilla had ever given her credit for.
"He won't, I'm sure of it," Cilla whispered. "I'm sorry if this is causing you pain."
"Confusion, more like," Harmony admitted. "I'm confused. Bewildered, how could you forgive? If he told me half of the truth of what he did to you… I just can't understand how you could forgive…"
"You don't need to understand it. No one needs to understand it. But they do need to respect it," Cilla said, but gently. "All that has happened is between him and I. I am doing you the courtesy of explaining because you are now one of the few who know the truth of what he did to me. You have always had a place in Richard's life, and this has affected you deeply. By explaining this to you now, it might help you to come to some sort of peace with Richard someday. I'd like you to understand but I don't require you to. If you don't, so be it. I do expect you to respect it, however."
Harmony looked away. It was clear by her face that she did not. Respect Cilla's decision to forgive. Her expression was mutinous, it was also clear that she never believed she'd come to find peace with Richard. Then again, Harmony had only learned the awful truth a week ago. It was still raw for her, a massive shock, and it would be for some time yet. She had not been given the time Cilla had, to come around to the understanding and serenity she had now. Harmony still had a long journey ahead of her, to get to where Cilla was now. Harmony continued to stare out the window, her eyes averted after Cilla's rebuke.
"Will you stay or will you go?" Cilla asked, more to break the silence, than anything else. She did not believe Richard would let Harmony leave with his child.
"I don't think I can get away, not on my own," Harmony replied. "If I were on speaking terms with Linda, then perhaps we'd find a way together. But I wouldn't help her, I won't help her, ever again. Especially to take William's child away. William will take her baby as soon as it's born. If Richard thinks he'll do the same to me…" Now she did sound angry, that her child might be taken from her gave her strength to vent her wrath. "I will not allow it - I'll raise hell, to stop him."
"I wouldn't allow it either," Cilla said. "No one is going to take your child from you, not if I have any say in it."
"Well, you won't want Richard raising his bastard in your home," Harmony said, without rancour.
"That's not what I mean," Cilla said anyway.
"I know. But it's the truth just the same. He won't let me go because of our child, and I can't bear to be here. To raise my child so close to him, never able to leave completely. I can't bear to look at him and yet through our child, our lives are forever joined…"
"We'll work something out," Cilla reached for Harmony's hand again. "Somehow, we will," she promised and after a moment, Harmony nodded. "So… How close is Mrs. Cox from giving birth? And has Colonel Tavington arranged for a wet nurse, if he's to send Mrs. Cox away?"
"Colonel Tavington… I understand now, why you were never able to get along with him," Harmony said.
"Well, he treated Beth abominably, back in the city, which set me against him wholeheartedly. But that day… he handed the command over to Richard, then walked away," Cilla said, licking her lips. "He didn't know what Richard intended to do, but nor did he punish Richard, afterward."
"He is the Colonel, it was within his power to do so. It was his responsibility," Harmony said.
"And he failed that responsibility, because Richard is his friend," Cilla said, some heat entering her voice. "And because Richard is his Major. And because punishing him would have been very public and would have ended Richard's career and at the same time, would have ruined me. For everyone would have known, then."
"Don't tell me you forgive him, too?"
"Not truly. I don't think a man should get away with such a horrid crime for any reason. Though Tavington's weren't so bad as Lord Rawdon. He didn't want Richard punished because he has a promising career. I think the man should consider that, before committing such an act. Besides, what of my promising future? It could have destroyed me, had I let it. It was destroying me. Lord Rawdon and Colonel Tavington should not have let Richard get away with it at all, and certainly not for such flippant excuses. Still," Cilla paused, considering how she felt about it all now. "I do not forgive Tavington, and nor do I like him overly much, but we've been making an effort of late. Or rather, he has. I confronted him once, about him not punishing his subordinate after committing such a heinous crime. He was so disturbed by the conversation, he fled the room."
"He didn't!" Harmony gasped.
"He did. To be honest, I don't think much about him - Tavington, I mean. He stopped it while it was happening, but he did nothing about it, afterward. And he tortured my father… He hurt him so bad. No. I don't think I'll ever warm to Tavington, for all that he's my cousin's husband. But I am willing to allow there to be some peace between us. Between Tavington and I. Not friendship, never that. But for Richard and Beth's sakes, I'll be cordial."
"For Beth's sake… what would she do, do you think? If she ever learned of this? She wouldn't forgive them any more than I do."
"She is never to know. It happened to me, not to Beth, or to you," Cilla's voice was iron. "I know you suffered at this Colonel Clement's hands, and at Farshaw's. But we are speaking of me and what I have endured now, what I overcame, and the place I find myself to be now. I will not have Beth learn any of this. I kept the truth from her before because I could not bear to tell her all the details of what had been done to me. I'll continue to keep it from her, and from as many people as I can, but for another reason entirely now."
"That reason is?" Harmony prompted.
"Because I will not have this rear up again and again and again - not when I've finally found peace!" Cilla said, almost snapping the words. She struggled for a deep breath, despite the pain in her chest. Struggled to find that peace again. "You needed to know the truth. You were involved with Richard, you were labouring under falsehoods, it was affecting how all three of us were trying to live. You had a right to know, because you were bedding the man that did it, and because he is the father of your child. But there is absolutely no need whatsoever to plague Beth with this. And that's all I'd be doing, if I told her. Plaguing her. Adding to her already full plate of misery. When she learns that Tavington was never unfaithful, her life is going to be anything but easy. I will not have the burden of what was done to me, added to that. I will not have Beth hating Richard, when I have forgiven him. I will not add to her load with this, especially not when it's no longer a load for me. It's not necessary. I don't need someone to confide my pain to, for I'm not longer in pain. Quite simply, Harmony, she doesn't need to know. I will keep this between us; you, Tavington, me, Richard. That's enough."
"Are you swearing me to secrecy?" Harmony asked bluntly.
"Yes, Harmony, I am. You can say what you like about your own history, but this is not your secret to reveal," Cilla held her gaze with a steely one of her own. Harmony looked away first. "Who else knows?"
"No one. They know Richard did something terrible and that I've had a confrontation with him. That I've ended things between us. They are curious, I am sure, but no one has pried too closely. No one has asked me directly what has happened."
"I should think not," Cilla spluttered, outraged. "They've no right to ask. So. Will you respect my wishes, Harmony?"
"You know, I really thought he was lying about that too, when he said you'd forgiven him," Harmony shook her head. Was it a question, a statement, or an accusation? Cilla wasn't sure. There was a strange look on Harmony's face, as if to say "you can't possibly forgive him. How could you?" Cilla didn't need Harmony's understanding, not in this.
"Will you?" She asked.
"I swear on my honour that I will respect your wishes," Harmony began, finishing with, "even if I'll never understand why and how you could forgive him."
"Thank you," Cilla gave Harmony's fingers a squeeze. After a moment, she received a squeeze in turn.