This chapter's song is I Want to Live by Skillet.

Chapter 10 - I Want to Live

March 9, 1902

Thomas was overwhelmed, sometimes, to realize he truly had control over his own life for the first time ever. He didn't need to be looking over his shoulder, constantly worried about what Lucille would think. As much as Thomas valued his newfound freedom, however, he also felt somewhat rudderless without Lucille to give him guidance. He'd always gone along with his sister's desires, and his motivations had been driven by the need to please her however possible - no matter how despicable the acts.

Now he had his own life, a wife who loved him, and a responsibility to lead and provide for her as best he could. He needed to truly be a man for the first time - make his own decisions, choose the right path for his family. Edith had been deliberately careful not to take the lead in their relationship; it would have been easy for her to do so - and for Thomas to simply fall back into that pattern - but she'd explicitly told him that she didn't want to replace Lucille's role in that way. Thomas was honored by the faith she showed in him, yet her trust sometimes also terrified him - what if he made the wrong decisions?

He'd avoided talking definitely about the future with Edith so far, telling himself he was waiting to make any determinations until they were both fully recovered. The unhurried weeks and months in their first true home together had been filled with joy and contentment as they truly got to know each other without any impediments between them; they spent their days talking, reading, and walking together, and their nights exploring each other's bodies in rapturous bliss. However, they were both almost entirely healed now and the first signs of spring were starting to emerge, and Thomas knew that time was running short to decide what to do next.

Although Edith had no qualms about sharing her inheritance fully with Thomas, it rankled him to live off her money. He'd been party to too much deception and murder over money in the past that, though he knew it wasn't the same, the thought of doing it again now was shameful.

He would sell Allerdale Hall and the clay mine, of course. He doubted he'd get much for it; the house itself was a disaster, and had barely been livable for years - even without Lucille's maleficent spirit that now haunted it. It would almost certainly be demolished by any potential buyer to gain easier access to the clay underneath. Thomas felt a vicious satisfaction to think that, even in death, Lucille would be denied access to her beloved Allerdale Hall. The only real value the property had was the clay, and the machinery used to mine it; he'd gladly sell that cursed clay harvester and wish the next man luck with its use. Even though he'd painstakingly worked on the machine for years, all it had brought was misery and death and he never wanted to see it again.

After the land was sold, Thomas wanted to move far, far away. He wanted to work, to make an honest living and provide for his wife with his own two hands - Edith's father had been right about that. Although his station as a baronet meant he was supposed to enjoy the "privilege" of not laboring for money, Thomas found he didn't give a damn. Perhaps he could make a living selling his inventions, or be hired as an engineer; although he hadn't worked on anything substantial except the harvester for years, he'd always been good with machines, and surely there was employment to be had in that field somewhere.

That night, after they'd made love and lay naked in each other's arms, Edith spoke up. "Thomas, what's bothering you? You've been brooding all day."

The corners of Thomas's mouth turned up and he gave a little chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"

"You are to me!"

Swallowing, Thomas started, "Edith...I've been thinking about what we should do next. You and I are recovered from our...ordeal, more or less. Winter will be over soon, the roads passable...and I'd like to leave. I still don't know where, exactly, we should go...but I cannot stay here."

"I know," Edith affirmed. "This place has too many memories. We need a...fresh start."

"Yes, exactly," Thomas returned. "First, I need to sell Allerdale Hall. Tomorrow I plan to visit a solicitor who can help me with the legalities. I don't have the deed for the property, and in all my years there I never saw it at the house - who knows what happened to it. I'm sure I'll need another copy drawn up. Then...I suppose I'll write letters to some of my contacts. Surely there's someone foolish enough to purchase the land for a pittance, if only to try to get at the clay underneath."

"Thomas," Edith said worriedly, "you don't think that...that Lucille's spirit will give the next owners any trouble, do you?"

Thomas gave a dark chuckle. "I fully expect the house to be destroyed to make way for easier mining. It's what I should have done years ago, except Lucille wouldn't hear of it, of course. With that cursed place gone, I doubt her ghost will remain...it's the house itself she's tied to, not the land, I'm sure of it."

"That's probably true," Edith said, reassured. "So, after that's taken care of...do you have any thoughts as to where we should go? The whole world is open to us, Thomas!"

Edith's tone conveyed excitement, and Thomas felt a pang of doubt go through him at her hopeful words. There were so many options, how was he to ever choose the correct one? He suddenly felt paralyzed by the enormity of it all - this was the first significant choice he'd have to make in his new life, and he didn't want to get it wrong.

"Edith…" he started, then paused.

"Yes, my love?"

"I just don't want to disappoint you," Thomas whispered.

"I trust you," she breathed back, smiling. "Besides, you don't have to make this decision alone! As my father would have told you, I'm very good at researching and making lists. Why don't we make up a list of possibilities, and the advantages and disadvantages of each? Then we can look at them rationally and choose."

Relief swept over Thomas, and he gave Edith a grateful smile. Put like that, the decision didn't seem quite so overwhelming. "What would I do without you, my love?"

March 25th - April 4th, 1902

More than two weeks passed before Thomas received a promising letter back from a Mr. Mills, who owned a large construction company in Manchester. Although Mr. Mills himself wasn't interested in purchasing Allerdale Hall, he'd spoken to his investors, and one of them - a Mr. Ellis - had expressed interest. The letter stated that Mr. Ellis planned to take a trip to Cumberland to view the property in a weeks' time, and would decide if the purchase was right for him then.

When William Ellis arrived in Keswick, Thomas met him at the train station. The man stared a moment too long at his facial scar and milky left eye; Thomas was certain that rumors ran wild as to what exactly had happened at Allerdale Hall, but tactfully Mr. Ellis didn't say a word.

The investor was surprised to hear that he'd be taking the trip to view the property along with Thomas's solicitor, and not the owner himself - but the baronet was firm on this point.

"You must excuse me, sir, but I will not go back. That place holds too many...memories, and I have no wish to lay eyes on it again. My solicitor has been briefed on all the particulars, and can show you the mines, machinery, and house just as well as I could. I have the blueprints for my clay harvesting machine, and I'll be happy to go over them with you here in town today and show you exactly how it works before you visit the property tomorrow."

After Mr. Ellis made the day's trip to Allerdale Hall and back, Thomas excitedly reported to Edith that he expected the man to make him an offer. "I'm sure it won't be much - especially since he agreed that the house would have to go - but it'll be done at last!"

After some haggling, Thomas and Mr. Ellis signed the purchasing papers the very next day - he'd even been able to negotiate a better price than he'd anticipated! A few days after that the money came through, and when Thomas visited the bank the next morning he was overwhelmed for a moment - there were actually finances in his account that had been honestly gained rather than swindled out of some poor woman!

Thomas wondered, not for the first time, what would have happened if he hadn't met Edith that fateful day in Buffalo. He supposed he'd have married Eunice McMichael, stolen her money, and let Lucille kill her as she had the others. He and Lucille would still be passionlessly fucking, and he'd be slowly sinking further and further into the cesspool of misery he couldn't - wouldn't - muster the strength to escape from.

Shaking himself from these dark thoughts, Thomas reminded himself of reality: Edith had saved him from that well-deserved fate! His lips turned upward, as they often did when Edith came to mind, and Thomas turned his attention to the business at hand.

Over the past few days since the sale was finalized, Edith had been packing their belongings in preparation for their move. Not that they had much; the cottage had been rented fully furnished, so there were no large items to worry about. Their only current possessions were clothes, books, a few crates of papers and machinery from Thomas's workshop, and some odds and ends they'd purchased over the past few months.

Edith was waiting for him as he arrived back at the house. "I've finished packing everything, and we should be ready to leave on the morrow!" she exclaimed. "You know...I'm going to miss this place, just a bit. I'm eager to leave Cumberland, but this house...there are a lot of good memories here, now."

"There are," Thomas grinned, and bent to kiss his wife.

As they broke apart, Thomas gathered his courage to speak. There was one last thing he wanted to do before they left, but he needed to ask Edith first. If she was opposed, he was willing to forgo this excursion; indeed, Thomas was half-hoping she'd object so he'd have an excuse to avoid it.

"Edith...I'd like to visit Lucille's grave."

April 5, 1901

Edith sat at Thomas's side as their carriage passed through the few buildings that made up the small village of Thornthwaite and up the drive to St. Mary's Church. Her husband's jaw was clenched and he sat stiffly, anxiety radiating.

As they disembarked, Edith tucked her hand into the crook of Thomas's elbow and he led the way between the gravestones. They soon came to a section that boasted a number of ornate headstones and memorials, and Thomas huffed as they approached.

"Here lay the ancestors of the great house Sharpe," he spit, "in all their glory."

Edith gave his arm a squeeze, but said nothing. She scanned the ground and swallowed as she caught sight of the fresh grave at the end of the row. Glancing at Thomas, she could tell he'd seen it too, and at first looked as if he may be sick all over the remains of his predecessors; then, he visibly steeled himself and they slowly made their way to his sister's final resting place.

There was a simple stone on the plot, engraved with "Lucille Sharpe, 1867-1901" - no epitaph, no "in loving memory." Edith had paid for that along with Lucille's burial; although she wouldn't have cared if the woman had been buried in an unmarked field, for Thomas's sake she'd given his sister a proper - if as inexpensive as possible - interment.

As they stood before the grave, tears welled in Thomas's eye and his breathing sped up. Edith could tell he was trying to restrain his emotions for her sake, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Thomas, it's all right."

As if a dam had broken, Thomas fell to his knees on his sister's grave, sobbing heavily. He stayed that way for several minutes, weeping and muttering, and though Edith couldn't make much out she was certain she'd heard the words "I'm sorry" several times through his tears.

On the ride to St. Mary's, Edith had been unsure what she'd feel once they arrived; hate, perhaps, or satisfaction? She certainly did despise Lucille, and knew nothing could ever change that; she'd been a cold-hearted killer and a cunning schemer, a woman who didn't see any value in human lives besides how they could further her wicked plans. Edith also certainly felt satisfaction at knowing she'd finally put an end to all of Lucille's madness. But now, standing over her husband's grieving form, the only emotion Edith experienced was compassion.

Lucille had manipulated and abused Thomas from their childhood. Edith knew that Thomas didn't quite see it like that, at least not yet; though she knew a large part of him hated his sister, he loved her still as well. He'd been too close to Lucille to completely recognize her for what she was, and she suspected that even now he'd be loath to acknowledge how truly evil she'd been.

It was strange, Edith thought - she probably should have felt jealous of Thomas's grief over his former lover, but all she experienced was sympathy as her husband mourned the only person who'd been there for him his entire, lamentable life. Until me.

Eventually, Thomas's tears faded and he lifted his head, running his hands over his face to wipe away the remaining moisture. After several beats, he asked in a small voice, "Edith, how can you stand to be here with me as I weep for your would-be murderer?"

"I know you loved her," Edith said simply.

"Yes," he whispered, sniffling again. "I shouldn't still love her, but I do. I also hate her, intensely! It's a peculiar feeling, you know, to both hate and love someone. When I think of her, it's as if my heart is torn in two directions, and at any given moment I don't know which emotion will take precedence - though I find the hate wins out most of the time, now." He gave her a small, weary smile. "I suppose I'll learn to live with it, eventually." Thomas sounded bitter and tired, and he rose from his knees at last.

"It wasn't always bad, you know," Thomas reminisced. "Lucille could be...kind, to me. Especially when we were children, or when there wasn't...anyone else around. She was brave, clever, and determined. What we had between us - it wasn't just sex, although that was certainly a big part of it. We were friends, best friends. She knew me inside and out, and I knew her likewise - or thought I did, at least. She...she loved me. And I loved her."

Edith slipped her hands around Thomas's waist, head on his chest, letting him talk. This was the first time he'd truly spoken of Lucille directly these past several months, ever since his full confession in the hospital. She suspected it had been a combination of guilt, grief, and wanting to just forget that had kept him silent until now.

Continuing, Thomas sighed, "I realize now, of course, that her love was selfish and jealous. A mad love, a perverted twisting of what should have been. She was the cause of almost all the misery in my adult life, and a good portion of it in my childhood too. Still...I wish things could have been different. That she'd been a...real sister to me. That she could have lived, and changed - like I have."

After a pause, Thomas smiled grimly. "She told me she'd die without me, you know. That was her secret weapon, the final play she'd use to convince me to go along with her schemes when I was opposed." He laughed darkly, and remarked, "I suppose she was right about that after all."

"I'm sorry, my love," Edith whispered, not certain what exactly she was apologizing for. Not for killing Lucille, certainly; but perhaps for how his sister's death had hurt Thomas, how with Lucille now gone his absurd fantasies about his sister becoming good could never come to pass.

Thomas held her tightly, face pressed into her hair as he spoke. "She had a...hypnosis over me. When I was in her presence, at Allerdale Hall, I was almost entirely under her oppression...when I was alone, and away from that house, I seemed to regain my own sense of self, of right and wrong. But then I'd return and she'd enthrall me again, and it seemed impossible to defy her."

Thomas let out a groan and turned his head to bury his face in Edith's shoulder. "I thought about it, you know, what I'd do if she'd...succeeded in murdering you. I planned to kill us both, stab Lucille in her sleep then finish myself off the same way. I knew, even then, that life wouldn't be worth living if you weren't there. I'd fallen too deeply in love with you for that. God only knows if I'd have had the courage to actually follow through…but I had it planned down to the last detail."

Pulling back to look into her face, Thomas's expression was intense. "Thank you, Edith. You had the courage to do what I should have done myself: end Lucille's life, give justice to all those she killed. I'd been such a weakling that after so long it seemed like all I could ever be...how could such a man change his ways, after years of lies and death and cowardice? But you, Edith...you saved me. I truly defied my sister for the first time in my life, for you. Only for you. And after, when you told me I could change, be better, even after all I'd done...it's as if your faith in me awoke something I never knew was there. Suddenly I knew I could change too, even if it'd seemed impossible before!"

Tears filled Edith's eyes at her husband's words, and she gave him a watery smile. "You're braver than you think, Thomas," she whispered. "You almost died to protect me. You had the courage to walk away from your past, to become more than you ever were under Lucille's thumb! I know it hasn't been easy for you, but you've been willing to do it, for us, for our family. I love you, Thomas. You're not the man I thought I was marrying, all those months ago, but looking back now…I can't imagine being with anyone else."

Thomas's lips came crashing down on hers vigorously, and they shared a moment of love and passion that clashed incongruously with the graves surrounding them. As they broke apart, Edith whispered, "Let's head back, Thomas. Let's leave this place behind us, where it should stay forever. Let's get on that train in the morning and never look back."

"My wife, I wholeheartedly agree," Thomas smiled, his lips quirking up in that sweet expression Edith loved so much. "But first, there's one thing left I have to do."

Digging in his pocket, Thomas produced the crimson-stoned ring Edith had worn for such a short period of time. She hadn't realized Thomas had taken it from the drawer she'd stashed it in, and felt a flash of disgust at the sight of it.

Thomas knelt on his sister's grave once more and placed the ring at her headstone. "Here you are, Lucille," Thomas spoke, an odd pitch to his voice. "You loved this ring, so you can have it back. You killed so many women to keep it, now it's yours forever." Drawing a deep breath, Thomas stood. "Goodbye, Lucille."

Turning, Thomas tucked Edith's arm into the crook of his elbow again, and together they walked back through the cemetery to where their carriage waited. On the ride back through Thornthwaite and down the road toward Keswick, Thomas asked Edith what else they needed to purchase for their journey, talked about their travel plans, and revealed some ideas he had for their future together.

He never once looked back.