A Better Man

Chapter Seven

Running

Eliza's heart pounded savagely, and she could feel the blood thrumming through her veins as she lay in the bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Every breath she took felt like a knife to her constricted throat, and her trembling had yet to abate.

Freddy, she had to find Freddy. He could not have gotten far, she rationalized, and if she showed him that all she wanted to do was understand, maybe he would stop running. Eliza willed herself to stand, catching hold of the bedpost when her knees gave out. With momumental effort, she was able to keep her balance, and dress hurriedly. There was no time to lose, so she simply threw a dressing-gown over her night-dress, stepped into her slippers, and headed into the corridor.

"Eliza?" Colonel Pickering stood in front of her door, concern darkening his kindly features. He had been dozing off in his own room, when he heard the quick, frantic footsteps in the corridor. When he set out quietly to investigate, Pickering caught Freddy fleeing like the hounds of Hell were at his heels. Something wild and lost in the boy's eyes had caused Pickering to suddenly become very afraid, and he had abandoned all thoughts of propriety in order to check up on Eliza.

"Please, Colonel - I need to find Freddy!" She winced in agony at the effort it took to form words. She could not raise her voice above a whisper without it hurting. Eliza noticed Pickering's expression go from concern to barely contained anger when he heard her speak, his eyes narrowing on her throat. She raised her eyes to the looking-glass on the wall beyond Pickering's shoulder, and gasped at the sight that she beheld. Freddy had most definitely left his mark, with no question as to what he had done.

"I will take a horse-whip to him."

Eliza gasped at the uncharacteristic venom in her old friend's tone, and could not bring herself to look at the deadly gleam in his usually merry blue eyes.

"It is not what you think, Colonel."

"Go to bed, Eliza, I will find the blackguard."

Eliza shook her head. "No - you don't understand! Now, please, let me go before it's too late." Tears formed in her eyes, and she was desperately, and shamefully close to shoving the man out of her path. She closed her eyes, and gave a defeated, shuddering sigh before succumbing to those tears, and sobbing quietly.

"Go to bed," Pickering repeated as firmly as a man confronted with a young woman's crying could sound, which wasn't very.

"H-he was dreaming, he said. I-it wasn't me he saw... oh, please - you must let me go to him. I have to tell him that I don't hate him!"

Pickering's anger evaporated almost instantly. "He was asleep when this happened?"

Eliza nodded. "I t-tried to wake him from a n-nightmare, and he-" She could not explain it again, it was too painful.

"I will find him."

Her eyes met his finally, wide and apprehensive. "You must not hurt him."

Pickering placed his hands on Eliza's shoulders, in a gentle and reassuring gesture. "I will bring him home to you, Eliza, I promise. No harm will come to your husband tonight - but I need you to return to your room, and let me do this alone." With that, he released her, and turned his eyes to her bedroom door with a look that was unmistakably a command. Eliza, still apprehensive, but trusting of her friend, obeyed.

Morning came with Eliza rising from bed without actually having slept in it. She walked to the looking-glass, and numbly noted that the fair, delicate skin of her neck had begun to bruise. She thanked providence for high necklines, and went about her morning routine. No one need know about the events of the night before - in fact, she was very sure that she could rely on Colonel Pickering's discretion in the matter. She shuddered to think of how Professor Higgins would react, and poor Mrs. Higgins would undoubtedly go into shock if she knew that Eliza had nearly been killed in bed by her husband.

It was Christmas morning. Eliza had nearly forgotten about the holiday since last night. She walked into the dining room to find Professor Higgins and his mother waiting patiently for their guests. Eliza colored deeply - she would have to make excuses for the absence of her husband... not to mention that Pickering was also missing.

"I am afraid that Freddy will be unable to attend breakfast with us this morning," she announced, trying hard to keep the grave tone out of her voice.

"How odd - do you know that the Colonel left a note saying the same thing in regards to himself? Seems he was called away on some very urgent business at one of the hospitals." Eleanor shook her head sadly. "I am afraid we make for a very sorry Christmas breakfast indeed."

Eliza took a seat, making sure she was as far from Professor Higgins as possible. Some of the bruising reached just below her jawline, barely visible to the critical eye. She would not take her chances.

Henry noticed something off about Eliza. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, and dark circles had appeared beneath them; her bearing was stiff, nearly rhuematic, and her complexion stood in stark contrast to her dark, owlish eyes. He also noticed that when she was being addressed, Eliza would only turn her head a fraction, and the corners of her eyes would crinkle in a barely supressed wince.

A cold realization washed over Henry when he added the fact that her husband was not present.

"Where is he?" Eleanor chided her son for his icy and impertinent tone, but Henry waved her off, and repeated the inquiry.

"I already told you -"

"I have a feeling that there is much you are not telling me, Eliza. Where. Is. He?"

Eliza stood up, her features stark with desperation. "I cannot comprehend why you would want to know!"

Henry fairly leapt to his feet, and strode over to Eliza, intent on drinking in her every feature, in order to seek out the evidence he needed. Her hands automatically flew to her neck, covering it protectively, but not before Henry noticed the ghost of a fingerprint just below her left ear - it stood angry, purple, and in mocking parody of a loving touch.

"Henry, what on earth -"

"Hush, Mother - Eliza, tell me."

He was rewarded with a slow shake of her head. "No. I cannot make you understand."

The sound of the front door opening caused everyone in the room to divert their attention. Without warning, Henry dashed from the dining room, bent on greeting whoever came through the door. Eliza stood dumbstruck for a moment before realizing his intent; she ran after him.

She arrived in time to see the Colonel step between her husband and Professor Higgins, holding his hands up in a halting gesture.

"Higgins, I will not have you harm the boy, whatever you believe has transpired."

"'What I believe'? Pickering, I saw with my own eyes!" Henry stepped forward, as did Pickering, who placed his hands on his friend's shoulders, firmly.

"I will explain everything in the study, and then you may judge." With surprising strength, Pickering was able to steer Henry away from Eliza and Freddy, although he was not able to prevent the professor from locking eyes with the younger man in an icy glare that he held until distance broke it.

Eliza was alone with Freddy at last. Her husband stood there, staring at her with his smoke-colored eyes, watery with unshed tears, and a helpless expression on his face. Eliza opened her arms, and he came forward, falling to his knees, and pressing his face against her abdomen, crying in earnest. The feel of his arms about her were not constricting as they had been when he first arrived, but gentle and cautious, as though she were made of fine glass. She stroked his dark hair, and murmured endearments, heedless of the few servants that were undoubtedly spellbound by the display.

"I love you, Freddy... please do not run from me like that again." At the moment, Eliza meant those three important words. The possibility of him going back to war and dying with that incident being the last memory of him had shown her that.

Back in the study, Henry was being made to sit down, when what he really wanted to do was tear a certain young whelp, limb from limb. The whole situation disturbed and angered him, especially with the niggling reminder that he had once threatened to do the very same thing to Eliza. It was different, though. He never would have layed a finger on that girl, especially now that their friendship was so very important to him... why the devil was Pickering so ready to defend the boy?

"Higgins, the boy was not in his right mind when he hurt Eliza."

"Drunk, I suppose?"

Pickering shook his head, and took a seat. "Have you ever had a particularly stressful lecture or project to worry about? The Embassy Ball, for instance - you spent months worrying yourself over that, I know you did."

Henry nodded, hesistantly.

"Did you ever dream about it? Dream that everything had gone wrong to the point where you woke up in the midst of thrashing about from anxiety, marvelling at how real the whole scenario had been?"

Another nod.

"What if what you saw on a day-to-day basis was death, filth, and your duty was to partake in that in the name of King and country?"

The rest of Christmas day was painstakingly tense. Henry, while accepting Pickering's explanation, still could not bring himself to be so forgiving of the boy, and refused to look at, or speak to him. Eleanor had been gently informed of the situation in order for her to arrange another room to be made up for Freddy. No one was willing to risk another incident like the night before.

The gift exchange was carried out perfunctorily. Had the occasion been more merry, Henry would have been very grateful for the new fountain pen from Eliza, and she may have embarassed him with the warmth of her gratitude over the rare edition of 'The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam'. Instead, they thanked each other without any real enthusiasm. Freddy managed to kiss Eliza on the cheek when he received his new shaving kit, pulling away immediately when he thought he caught the professor's disapproving glare. Eliza thought that Freddy's gift of handkerchiefs were very sweet, and smiled weakly at the boy.

Freddy left the Higgins' household on the second of January, 1916. Eliza saw him to the station, accompanied by Colonel Pickering. The young couple parted with a great deal more tears than the last time, Eliza now burdened with the realization of her love, and Freddy struck with guilt, and the feeling that he did not deserve her renewed regard.