This chapter's song is I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young.

Chapter 3 - I'll Be Good

November 23, 1901

Thomas slept fitfully that night, kept awake both by pain and by intrusive thoughts creeping through his mind. He dreaded thinking about what he'd do after he had recovered enough to leave this place, and he wished for the umpteenth time that Edith had just let him die an expiatory death. It certainly would have been a fitting end for an evil-doer such as him, yet the sacrificial nature of his death might also have absolved some of his guilt in her eyes. But now because of Edith's life-saving actions he'd have to deal with the consequences of his choices these past many months and years, and he selfishly dreaded the prospect.

Whatever his future may hold, Thomas tried ineffectually to push idealistic visions of that life including Edith far from his mind.

He'd methodically eaten a little breakfast and was feeling marginally stronger than yesterday when a sharp rap sounded at the door and it opened to admit Edith's poised form. Thomas drew in a sharp breath at the surge of affection, nervousness, and panic that suddenly came upon him. Edith had a determined look on her face he'd seen before, and his heart skipped a beat; surely now he was on the mend she'd returned only to say goodbye.

"Thomas," Edith started, sitting in the chair at his bedside, "I have some things I must say to you, and I'd like you to listen completely before you say anything."

Sick with anticipation, Thomas mutely nodded for Edith to continue.

"I love you, Thomas. I know I shouldn't after everything - the lies, the murder, the incest - but I do. The first thing I want you to know is that I forgive you, for all of it. I certainly can't forget what you've done, or what I experienced at Allerdale Hall; what happened there was the most terrifying experience of my life, and I know that you're largely at fault for that. And I'm still angry, so terribly angry at you for taking me there, for poisoning me, for everything. Nevertheless, I do forgive you."

Thomas could feel the shock written all over the unbandaged half of his face. This was not at all what he'd envisioned, and Edith's candid words had undone all of his resolve to be emotionless during what he'd expected to be the last conversation he and his wife would ever have.

Edith continued, "Thomas, I believe you love me too. I believe that, given a chance, you'd live a much different life than you have so far - am I right?"

Thomas swallowed, then gave a sharp nod. "Yes. Absolutely, yes - I hated that life."

Edith gave a small smile, as if he'd given the answer he expected. "Thomas, I find myself reluctant to leave, even though by every logic in the world that's exactly what I should do. You've broken my trust, broken our marriage vows time and time again. I don't know exactly how much of the plotting and death was your idea, and not Lucille's - I have a notion that it was very little in actuality. However, you were a willing party to all of it."

Edith leaned forward and took his hand. "Despite everything, I find myself wanting to stay and give you another chance. A chance to regain my faith in you, a chance for you to prove the world wrong and become a better man. A chance to be my husband and I to be your wife - not just in name, but in reality. A true marriage, a partnership between us, 'from now until death do us part.' You said those words to me a few months ago, but you didn't mean them then - would you now? Are you willing to be my husband in truth? Do you want me to stay, if I'm willing?"

Thomas gave a sobbing gasp, and couldn't speak for a moment. Was this real? Was Edith actually saying that she'd want to stay with him? Eventually he choked out, "Yes! More than anything!"

Edith's solemn gaze was unwavering as she spoke. "I'm glad to hear that, because it's what I want too."

Squeezing his eye shut, Thomas gasped out, "Edith…"

She placed a finger on his mouth to silence him. "Shhh. Let me finish. If I am to stay, you have to make me new vows. Sincere ones, this time. Swear that you'll be a changed man; that last day, at Allerdale Hall, you showed me you're capable of turning away from sin and doing good. Promise me that's who you'll be from this day forward. Give me your oath that there will be no more lies between us - that you'll be truthful with me in all things, no matter how small. I also need your promise to explain everything to me, everything about what you and Lucille did at Allerdale Hall all those years. I know it'll be difficult for you to tell and me to hear, but I need to know all of it if I'm going to stay and be your wife."

Edith drew herself up straighter. "If you can't make me these vows, I'll do as you asked yesterday. I'll divorce you, then go back to America. That's not what I want, but if you can't commit to these terms, it's what I'll do. Please consider carefully, Thomas, and let me know what you decide."

Licking his lips, Thomas managed to say, "Surely you can't be serious."

"I've never been more so," Edith returned calmly. "Just as I'm asking you for honesty, I'll be truthful with you in return, always. I give you my word never to be false with you, Thomas; everything I have said has been with the utmost sincerity. I hope you believe that."

"I do," he whispered, genuinely. "But Edith, listen, please. I cannot allow you to throw your future away for me." A tear welled in Thomas's eye, but he forced himself to continue, even as his inner voice screamed at him to stop ruining this chance. "I've destroyed your life enough already. I have nothing to offer you, and staying with me would only bring you more hardship and pain. You deserve a better life than I could ever provide."

Edith's voice turned steely as she replied, "Don't you think I deserve to make the decisions about what to do with my life, seeing as I'm the one living it? I know it won't be easy, Thomas. I've just spent the few days thinking of difficulties we could face, and I know there will likely be even more I haven't anticipated. But no matter what happens, I'm willing to face anything as long as we're together! Don't you understand, Thomas? I choose you. I want to help you change, be a better person! As long as we're together, with no more secrets dividing us, we can deal with whatever the future holds."

More tears blurred Thomas's eye as he took in the enormity of what she was saying. Was Edith truly offering to freely give him all he desired, a life with her by his side? Throughout their entire relationship, Thomas had never even considered being honest with Edith; he'd known that once his treachery was revealed, she would leave without a second glance. But now, fully aware of what kind of monster he was, Edith was pledging to commit her life to him? It was inconceivable.

"You don't know what you're saying," Thomas choked out. "I don't know if I can be the man you want me to be."

"I know you can, if you try," Edith said, voice full of certainty - and that certainty seemed infectious, for Thomas found himself suddenly filled with a desperate desire to change, to become a better person, for her.

"Then yes, of course, I promise you everything!" Thomas cried, an almost manic gleam in his eye. "No more lies, no more death...I'm sick of that anyway! All the falsehoods, the murders, the schemes have brought me nothing but misery for years, and I've longed to be free! I'll tell you anything you want to know! I'll be a devoted husband, and I'll be good, Edith, I swear I will!"

It was odd, he thought, how different this vow felt from the one he and Lucille had made; that long-ago promise had slowly dragged him down into a cesspool of torment, but this new pledge seemed to lift him higher than he'd ever dreamed was possible.

Edith's answering beam lit up the dim hospital room. "Then I also swear to you, Thomas Sharpe, to stay by you, to be your wife, to help you be a better man, to support you the rest of our lives." Leaning close, she whispered next to his ear: "I love you!"

"I love you too," Thomas breathed, and turned his head to meet their lips in a tearful kiss.

Thomas had never felt so alive. His heart soared, and a giddiness bubbled up inside him that felt as if it would burst out and consume him whole. He had Edith! She was here, she loved him, she truly wanted to stay with him despite everything!

Thomas's chest and face burned as he sobbed in relief and joy, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Edith was weeping too, but also smiling blissfully as their hands entwined and she pressed the sweetest kisses to his lips again and again.

Eventually they broke apart, sniffling, and Edith fished a handkerchief out of her handbag and wiped Thomas's face tenderly. She retrieved the cup of water from his bedside table, and pressed it to his lips; Thomas gratefully took a sip, smiling up at his wife. His wife, still his wife!

The wave of exuberance Thomas had been riding finally ebbed a bit, and he sobered as he recalled Edith's words: "I need you to promise to explain everything to me." He had pledged to be truthful with her - would he actually be able to tell her all of it?

"What are you thinking?" Edith queried, obviously noting his change in demeanor.

Well, Thomas thought with trepidation, I might as well start being completely truthful right now. "Just that - I promised to be honest. I'm worried that - that once the truth is all out, you'll still decide to leave."

"Well, you'll just have to trust me," Edith replied with a small smile. Thomas winced as he recalled saying those exact words to her during their courtship, while deceiving her all along. He silently vowed anew to never lie to her again.

"What do you want to know?" Thomas asked, apprehensive.

"Well, everything of course!" Edith chuckled, a trace of sadness tinging her mirth. Silence fell, and she shifted uncomfortably as a peculiar look came over her face; Thomas had seen it before, and realized she was nervous. "Thomas...there is something I need to discuss with you, soon."

"What is it?" he asked anxiously.

"I visited the coroner this morning, before I came here. He...he has Lucille's body, and I needed to go in and make the final identification. It had to be a family member, and as you're still much too injured to leave…" Edith trailed off, then gave her head a shake. "He needs me to make a final decision about what to...to do with her. He's finished the...examination, and there will be an inquest held soon - but she's ready to be buried now. Thomas...what do you want? A funeral, or…?"

"No," Thomas cut her off harshly. "No funeral. Tell the man he can do with her what he wills, I don't care."

"Thomas, it doesn't work like that," Edith replied gently. "Since she still has family living, it's up to us to take care of the burial arrangements."

"Then you decide," Thomas ground out. "I want nothing to do with it. The Sharpes have a family plot in St. Mary's Church cemetery, you can put her there if you want. I'm sure she'll be right at home with all my other vile ancestors." A tear leaked from his good eye unbidden, and he hastily dashed it away.

"All right, that's good. I'll do that. But Thomas, please...I don't want you to think you can't mourn her. It's fine that you do. I know you miss her."

Thomas let out a huff, but didn't deny it.

The couple sat in silence for a time, neither knowing quite what to say. Eventually Thomas glanced back at Edith, taking in the contemplative look on her face.

"Edith, I owe you explanations for so much...I can tell there's something you're wondering. Please, just ask. I'll answer truthfully, I swear."

"I know you will. Thomas, I'd like to know...about Lucille. That is - you and Lucille, together. How long had you been, ah…?"

"Fucking?" Thomas filled in bitterly.

Edith blushed at his crude description, but nodded.

Thomas swallowed and slid his eye away from hers. "Since we were children."

Edith drew a sharp breath, and Thomas risked a glance into her face. She was angry, but not at him, he surmised. "I suspected as much, from what she said. How - how did it start?"

He thought for a moment. "I think first I must start even further back. You must understand that Lucille and I - we had always been close. We were each other's only friends growing up in Allerdale Hall. Our parents were...distant. Theirs was an arranged marriage, and they made each other miserable. Father was a horrible man; my most prominent memories of him are him beating Lucille and me for minor infractions, or hitting and shouting at Mother. He never even tried to hide that from us. Mother never interacted with us much; we were largely raised by a procession of nannies and governesses, none of whom stayed very long. I can't say I blame them. Who would want to stay in such a place?"

"Lucille was a little over two years older than I, and she was just nine when Father started calling her into his office for special, ah, 'lessons.' She would return with bruises on her body and hate in her eyes, but it wasn't until later I understood that what went on in there was different than the beatings we'd both received before."

Edith gasped, and when Thomas looked at her he was surprised to see tears in her eyes. Dashing the moisture away, she said, "I never thought I'd feel compassion for Lucille, but I was wrong. No child deserves that!"

"Indeed," Thomas grimaced. "In any case, Mother discovered what was happening, and my parents had the largest altercation between them yet. Father broke her foot and it never healed right; she was a cripple for the rest of her life. It's why the elevator was installed - Mother could hardly walk up and down the stairs. Father died in a mining accident the next year, and none of us mourned his passing. However, Father's death meant that the mine shut down, so the money it brought in dried up. Mother couldn't afford a governess for us any longer, so she was forced to take care of us herself - which made her resent us even more. She was impatient, demanding, and prone to anger over the slightest mistake."

"Throughout all of this, Lucille was my only companion. She was always the brave one, always willing to stand up for me and protect me from Father and Mother's wrath while I cowered behind her. I idolized her, Edith; she was my guardian, my best friend, and the only person in the world I loved."

"I was nine the first time we...touched each other. It was shortly after Father's death. Lucille told me it was a way we could love each other, make each other feel good. She'd snuck a book from Father's library that showed many, ah, sexual images, and Lucille was eager to try them all. At first I was unable to...perform...for many of them, but over the next few years I came into maturity and there was almost nothing we didn't do."

Thomas paused his narrative, feeling sick. He risked looking over at Edith, and instead of the disgust he expected he found the gentlest look of sympathy on her face. I do not deserve her! Thomas thought forcefully, empowered to continue the sordid tale.

"We continued our...relationship...until I was twelve and Lucille fourteen. Although Lucille had always told me we needed to do everything we could to keep our relations a secret, one day I was careless and didn't push a chair in front of the attic door as we usually did. The door didn't lock from the inside, you see, but by putting the chair in front of the door we could at least have some warning if the door were to open. Well, on the one day I didn't do it, Mother happened upon us. I had never seen her so enraged, and she dragged Lucille off and locked me in the attic. I don't know how long she planned on keeping me there, but I never got a chance to find out."

"Late the next day, Lucille came and let me out. She was beaten black and blue, but she looked triumphant...she told me that she'd 'taken care' of Mother for good. When I asked her what she meant, she showed me to the bathing room. Edith, it was - it was so horrible! Lucille had cleaved Mother's skull in half while she was bathing. I threw up, and Lucille laughed at me, told me I should be grateful to her. And the worst part is, some part of me was!"

"That night Lucille and I made love in the bedroom that now is - was - hers. We promised each other that night that we'd never love another, that we'd always be together no matter what happened. 'Never apart,' we said." Thomas screwed his eyes shut in pain. Oh, how much suffering that vow had brought!

"Lucille's grand plan of freedom didn't last, of course. The next day Finlay came by, discovered Mother's death and alerted the authorities. Our guardianship passed to one of Mother's elderly distant relatives, who wanted nothing to do with us - the last of our family's finances were used to send me away to boarding school, and Lucille to a mental institution in Switzerland. I screamed and cried when we were parted - we'd never been away from each other more than a day in our whole lives, and I couldn't imagine life without her. I didn't realize that the years to come would turn out to be the best of my life so far." Thomas gave a small, wistful smile as he reminisced.

"At school I was finally given the opportunity to interact with my peers. I was far from popular, but I made friends - male friends, and interactions with them were far different than my friendship with Lucille, which is all I had to compare them to. I felt free in a way I never had at home; although the school was strict, I was used to living under such tyranny that following the rules was never a hardship for me. I learned much; my education had been lacking in childhood, but I made up for it. I was taught not only academics, but the social graces I'd need to live in the world. My teachers told me I was bright, and had a future ahead of me in maths or science. When I went on to university, I studied engineering, and it was one of my greatest ambitions to work on some great project in London or another large city." Pausing, Thomas licked his lips, and Edith held out the water cup for him to soothe his parched throat.

"So why didn't you?" Edith asked.

"Because of Lucille, of course," Thomas replied edgily. "Why else have I done anything in life, if not for her? When I finished university, I had just come of age. While still a minor I'd had no say in my sister's situation, but once I came into my inheritance, such as it was" - he chuffed - "I traveled to Switzerland to 'rescue' Lucille. That damned vow we made to each other weighed on me, and I was obligated to follow through with it. She had a hold on me, and I couldn't have left her there even if I'd wanted to. I was both eager and terrified to see her again - and optimistically hoped that the years apart had helped her, as they'd helped me."

"The institution was reluctant to cede Lucille to me, but they had no legal right to keep her against my wishes, and she was released under my official guardianship. The doctors there met with me and explained her diagnosis, but I brushed them off...I was so happy to be reunited that I ignored their cautions." Thomas gave a dark laugh.

"Thomas," Edith broke in, "anyone would have done the same. She was your sister, and you loved her."

"Would they?" Thomas replied doubtfully. "It had been nearly ten years since our separation. I'd lived in the world and knew right from wrong. I knew Lucille was an unrepentant murderer, but I excused her in my mind, telling myself she'd killed Mother out of necessity, to protect us - that she hadn't enjoyed it. And I knew she'd introduced me to sinful passions I'd been much too young to fully understand, or truly consent to, at least at first. But despite all this, I convinced myself things would be different now, that we could live a normal life free from our immoral past."

Thomas's voice had become scratchy, and Edith proffered the water again. "We can stop if you need to," she said kindly. "You don't need to tell me everything this moment...I know how difficult this must be for you."

"No, I must continue," Thomas declared staunchly. "If I stop now I may lose my nerve to resume later."

Gathering his thoughts, he persisted, "When I retrieved Lucille, she was...different. She had always been cunning, even as a child, but now she was all sharp edges and maliciousness, and much more prone to rage if she didn't get her way. She wasted no time in asserting her dominance over me, again making me feel like the child who'd blindly followed in her footsteps. And, to my deep regret, I stepped back into that role without dispute...I had never been able to stand up to her before, and it was now easier to go along with her than face her fury."

"On the journey back to England, I tried to convince Lucille to start over with me, to sell Allerdale Hall and move to London together as nothing more than my sister. She was so angry, so appalled that I would even suggest it! She reminded me of our vow to each other that last night, and then she...persuaded me...to make love."

Thomas's face twisted in remembrance. "While I could perhaps blame ignorance and naïveté for my romantic involvement with Lucille as a boy, as I man I had no such excuse. I knew our relationship had been wrong, sick, and originally I had every intention of abandoning that facet of our bond. But...I was weak, and Lucille was strong. And beautiful. And...I loved her, and lusted after her. It was easy, too easy to fall back into our old habits."

"At first, I felt terribly guilty about it. After every time we fornicated, I'd promise myself it was the last time, that by the next I'd be strong enough to refuse her. But I never was, and eventually my conscience became numb. I even half-convinced myself that our intimacy was good, not perverted."

Thomas's distressed gaze, which had been on their linked hands, slid to meet Edith's. "How can you possibly forgive me for all of this? I am more sorry than you could ever know, but that doesn't change the fact that it still happened!"

Edith sniffled, wiping away involuntary tears. "My love," she began, and Thomas quavered at her endearment, "I do forgive you. Much of the blame belongs to Lucille, particularly what happened between you as children! Yes, when you were grown you were responsible for your own choices, though those were also heavily influenced by Lucille. But Thomas - I know you regret those choices, that you would undo them if you could, and that you're determined to change for the better. Knowing all of that, how could I not forgive you?"

"I don't deserve that!" Thomas gasped, clutching Edith's hand spasmodically.

"You're right, you don't. That's why it's forgiveness, Thomas. You don't earn it, it's given freely."

Thomas gave a sob and pulled her into a one-armed embrace, clinging to her tightly. Whispering into her hair, Thomas choked out, "I love you Edith, I love you, I love you!"

"I love you too," Thomas heard her reply, voice shaky but adamant. "You are mine, Thomas Sharpe, and I am yours. Always."