This chapter's song is Stand By You by Rachel Platten.

Chapter 4 - Stand By You

November 23, 1901

Thomas and Edith's embrace was interrupted by the arrival of Dr. Adams. Edith reluctantly pulled away as the physician entered the room, but upon seeing them the medical man broke into a grin. "Well, this is a lovely sight! I'm glad to see you've worked things out," he smiled.

Ashamed, Thomas recalled his vitriolic words to the man yesterday. "Sir, please, allow me to apologize for yesterday. I'm afraid I was...not myself."

"Oh, don't worry about it, young man!" the doctor replied, a twinkle in his eye. "A woman's touch can work wonders to restore a man's spirits, I know! However, I believe that's enough talking for now. You're still gravely injured, and though I'm certain now you'll pull through, you're nowhere near recovered enough for drawn out conversations. You need rest and quiet, so I'm going to insist that Lady Sharpe leave now. She needs to recuperate too, after all!"

Thomas felt a pang of guilt slice through him. He'd almost forgotten about Edith's injury, her sickness from the poison! "Edith, are you all right?" he blurted. "Your ankle, the poison! Please tell me there will be no lasting damage?"

Before Edith could reply, the physician answered for her. "Lady Sharpe will be just fine. The ankle was a clean break, and it's set now - as long as she doesn't strain it too much" - he gave Edith an admonitory look - "it'll heal nicely. As for the poison, she's been very lucky there as well. I strongly suspect that yew leaves are the culprit, but as I understand, the poison was administered only in tea so the toxicity levels were quite low. Ingesting whole yew needles generally causes death in hours, but even after being fed yew tea for weeks, Lady Sharpe hadn't quite absorbed enough poison to be fatal. Soon her body will purge the remaining toxins, and her symptoms will disappear without any enduring harm."

Thomas closed his eyes in relief. "That's - that's good," he managed to stammer.

"Indeed," the doctor replied. "It's a true miracle that you two have come through this ordeal as well as you have! Providence must have some plan for your lives that's not over yet." Turning back to Edith, he said, "Now, Lady Sharpe, I do need you to leave. You may return this evening after you've both had some significant rest."

Acquiescing, Edith turned to go. "I love you, Thomas," she uttered. "I'll be back later."

"I love you too, Edith. I'll see you tonight."

"Tonight," she echoed, voice full of promise.

On the carriage ride back to her cottage, Edith was filled with joy. The darkness of the past several months had been weighing on her heavier than she'd even realized, but all that seemed to be swept away by the tide of Thomas's love and their renewed commitment to each other. Logically Edith knew there were still many trials for them ahead, but she refused to linger on those thoughts now.

Upon entering her cramped front sitting room, she saw Alan waiting for her. She'd known he'd been discharged from the hospital that morning, as the nurse had told her when she'd inquired after him earlier. Edith felt a stab of guilt - she had kept her visits with him brief the past several days, as every one of their conversations so far had resulted in frustration for them both. She'd been noncommittal every time Alan had entreated her to return to America, claiming she couldn't make any definite plans until Thomas's recovery was certain. Edith could tell that her continued attention to Thomas irked him deeply.

"Alan! How are you?" Edith queried, as she awkwardly maneuvered to him on her crutches. Alan's left arm was in a sling and he had bandages tightly wrapped around his abdomen, but he was mobile and seemingly in good health otherwise.

"I'm recovering well," he replied. "As long as I don't strain myself, I should be healed in another month."

"I'm glad to hear it!" Edith exclaimed, genuinely relieved. Wanting to avoid the uncomfortable conversation that was sure to follow, she took her time arranging herself on the settee and propping her foot up on the pillows she'd appropriated for that purpose. She noticed her maid had provided tea and biscuits for Alan as he waited; she eschewed the tea, but snagged a biscuit and bit into it.

"Please, take a seat." Edith indicated the armchair across from her. "I'm sure sitting is better for your injuries."

"Yes, thank you," Alan replied. Once seated, he met Edith's gaze levelly. "Edith, enough of this uncertainty between us. Sharpe is improving - I inquired after him this morning on the way out. Now that you know he'll recover, will you finally commit to coming back with me? To going home?"

Something in her expression must have indicated a negative, for Alan's face fell and he heaved a frustrated sigh. "Edith...how can you want to stay when you know what he is?" He shook his head in bewilderment. "You have every reason to sue for divorce, which I'm sure would be granted! They tried to kill you, and me! You have never been a fool, Edith, and staying here, with him, would be the height of foolishness!"

Alan's voice rose to a shout, and Edith's eyes flashed as she hissed out, "Alan!" She glanced towards the kitchen just one room away, where she could hear her maid preparing luncheon.

"Sorry," Alan mumbled, lowering his voice. "But Edith, please, listen to reason. I know you feel some...loyalty toward Sharpe because of his actions after I arrived, but he's a criminal. You don't know what you'd be getting yourself into - it's too risky!"

"That may be true, but it's my risk to take!" Edith exclaimed. Calming, she continued, "Alan...I know you think I'm making a mistake by staying here. I know most people would say the only reasonable course of action would be to flee and never look back. When you first showed up at Allerdale I was ready to do just that! But Alan...you don't know everything, and you don't know Thomas like I do. Lucille was the truly mad one, but now that she's...gone, Thomas and I have a chance to live our lives together free from her pernicious influence! I know Thomas isn't blameless, but he's not insane. He can change, become a better person, I know he can!"

"Thomas is accomplice to murder! A seductor of innocent women! A money-grubbing blaggard!"

"Yes, he was, and more besides!" Edith exclaimed, voice blazing. "But I've chosen to forgive him! Thomas is truly sorry for his past sins, and he wants so badly to change. He's sworn it to me! The least I can do is give him a chance to become a better person, and help him along the way!"

Alan sat in stunned silence for several moments after her outburst. Eventually he let out an acquiescent breath, as his countenance conveyed disappointment and bitter resignation.

"You still love him, don't you," Alan stated, not phrasing his words like a question at all.

"Yes, I do," Edith rejoined quietly.

Another several moments stretched out in silence before Alan eventually stated, "I pray for your sake that you're right about him, Edith. He's deceived you before, though, so I can't say I have much confidence in his proclamations of reform."

"I know you don't trust him, Alan, but please, trust me. We have enough years of friendship between us for that, I hope. I'm not being a lovesick idiot, nor am I ignoring Thomas's misdeeds. I'm going to need to learn to live with him now, knowing the truth, and I'm sure it won't be easy - for either of us. But it is what I've chosen."

Edith sighed, then gave him a soft smile. "Alan, please, I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful. You are the best of friends! I know you came all this way to save me and were grievously injured because of it. Your worries are absolutely justified, and I know you think I'm mad to stay. I'm sure I would think the same, were our positions reversed! I know you're not happy with this, but please, don't try to convince me to change my mind anymore. I'm not a child, and I have made my final decision."

"Yes, I can see that. You've always had your own mind, Edith, and there's not a soul on earth who can sway you once you've decided something. I was a fool to try." He shook his head sadly.

Alan pondered for several moments, then seemed to come to a decision. "Edith, there's something you must know, especially now I know you're determined to stay with Sharpe. I made inquiries this morning after I was discharged, and the police are launching a formal investigation into Lucille's death. The local constable has sent to Workington for a county police officer, and a detective should be arriving in the next day or two. After he's completed his investigation, there will be a coroner's inquest, the results of which will determine if there will be charges brought against anyone in the case. We're going to need to be very careful about what we tell the police so as to not implicate you, or Sharpe, in any wrongdoing."

Edith stared for a moment. "You'd help him?"

"No," Alan countered, "but I'll help you. You've clearly made up your mind to stay with Sharpe, and though I won't say it's not very tempting to tell the police exactly what he's been up to in that house...I know you'd never forgive me for it. I'm not prepared to lose your friendship, along with - with everything else." Alan smiled a bit sadly.

Gratitude poured over Edith, and she exclaimed, "Oh Alan, thank you! Thank you! I can never repay you!" She would have given him a hug, but with their respective injuries in mind she settled for giving his hand an appreciative squeeze and a massive grin.

Alan clutched her hand back for just a moment, then let go. "The detective will undoubtedly want to interview you and I, as well as Sharpe. We were the only three there at the time of her death. We must make certain that our stories all corroborate the same thing: that Lucille was behind everything, and you killed her in self-defense."

"Which is true!" Edith protested.

"Yes, it is. But if you want Sharpe to live, we must omit anything that hints at him having known about Lucille's evils. Now, luckily for him, this investigation is only into Lucille's death; the police don't know about the murders of Sharpe's previous wives, and I think it's prudent for it to stay that way if you don't want him to hang. That Lucille murdered her mother and was sent away to a madhouse after is public record, and I'm sure the detective will have found that documentation. I don't think it'd be hard to claim simply that Lucille was insane and tried to murder us all, and that you had no choice but to end her life."

"You're right," Edith agreed. "We should be honest, but we don't need to include all of the...particulars." A thought occurred to her, and she asked, "Alan, will you come with me to visit Thomas this evening? We should agree among ourselves exactly which details to share."

"As much as I don't care to ever set eyes on Sharpe again, I agree that we should all talk before we give our statements. I'll meet you there this evening, at…?"

"Five o'clock," Edith replied. "Alan...thank you again! You don't know how much this means to me, that you'd be willing to help him in this, to help us, though I know you're against my staying here. You're...a very good friend."

Rising with a wince, Alan's countenance was wistful as he turned to leave. "So are you, Edith. Good day, I will see you this evening."

"Farewell, Alan," she told his retreating back. I wish I could have given you what you want, Edith thought guiltily. Alan's unexpected aid after she'd chosen to go so clearly against his wishes had stunned her, and she realized how much affection - love, her mind filled in - he must have for her to be willing to help after everything that'd happened. She perceived how much he cared for her, but yet she did not, could not regard him in the same way.

I hope that someday you find a woman who can love you as you deserve, Alan.

At four thirty that afternoon, Alan McMichael arrived at the Mary Hewetson hospital. After asking the nurse which room was Sir Thomas Sharpe's, Alan slowly made his way there and rapped on the door.

"Come in," Sharpe's voice came softly.

When Sharpe caught sight of Alan, his eye widened and the eager expression he'd been wearing fell from his face.

"Weren't expecting me, were you?" Alan asked.

"No," Sharpe replied, guardedly. "Where's Edith?"

"Oh, she'll be along shortly. We have matters to discuss between the three of us, and she asked me to come along for this visit so we could all talk. However, I'm here a bit early - I need to have a few words with you, alone."

Sharpe's wary expression intensified, but he didn't look away. "Well then. Speak your piece."

"As I'm sure you know, Edith Cushing is a formidable woman. Strong, determined, and unmoving once she's made up her mind. And against all rational judgment, she's decided that she wants you. Can you explain that?"

"Believe me, I was just as shocked as you," Sharpe rejoined. "She has every reason to hate me, to leave and never look back. It's what I fully expected. But she's made it clear that's not what she wants, and - God forgive me - I'm not selfless enough to push her away now."

Alan gave a humorless snort. "I should imagine not. Edith tells me that you've sworn you'll be a changed man now. Is that true? Can the leopard really change his spots that easily?"

Swallowing, Sharpe responded, "Yes, it's true. I've given Edith my vow, and I will not break it."

Alan studied Sharpe's pale, bandaged face for several moments, gleaning what he could from the other's expression. The Englishman appeared genuine, but he knew that looks could be deceiving.

Leaning forward, Alan said in a low voice, "See to it that you don't. Edith loves you, for some inexplicable reason, after everything you've done to her - and I believe you may even love her back somehow, in your black heart. But I love her too. It's because I love her that I'm giving you both my help until this whole business is through, since it will make Edith happy; but don't mistake my assistance for trust. I'm still unconvinced that you have transformed so quickly, and if you hurt her or drag her back into your previous madness, I will know. I will hunt you down and kill you where you stand, and bring Edith back to America where she belongs. Do we understand each other?"

"We do," Sharpe replied, after a beat. "But I assure you, your threats are unnecessary. I will never hurt Edith again, and I'll do everything in my power to make her happy for the rest of our lives. I'm leaving everything else in the past, where it belongs." The corner of his lip twitched up in a grim smirk. "That's a lesson Edith tried to teach me a while ago, but I've just now learned to apply."

"Well, then. I'm glad we had this little chat." Alan sat back in the chair, glancing at his pocket watch - twenty-five minutes until Edith was supposed to arrive. Sharpe was staring past him at the wall. He sighed - there was something else he felt obligated to say. "Thank you," he ground out, and Sharpe's pale eye cut back to his. "For - doing your best not to kill me. And for trying to save Edith."

Sharpe gave a nod of acknowledgment. "I'm glad my aim was correct. As for Edith, my attempt failed miserably, and she was the one who ended up having to save me."

The two men lapsed into silence once more. Alan was just wishing he hadn't come quite so early, when Sharpe's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Dr. McMichael, can you...that is, would you mind…sharing any stories of Edith as a child? I know you've been friends since your youth...what was she like? I find myself wanting to know - to know everything about her." Sharpe appeared nervous, but there was also an unguarded yearning to his expression.

Alan briefly debated the wisdom of sharing such information with this man, but ultimately decided to acquiesce to his request. What harm could childhood stories do, after all?

Smiling faintly in remembrance, Alan began. "Edith was always a curious child, too curious for her own good, many said. She always had her nose in a book, and would read anything she could get her hands on…"