A Better Man
Chapter Fifteen
Come Back and Haunt Me
Author's Note: Sorry in advance for the briefness of this chapter!
Henry stared at the woman sitting on the sofa in his Wimpole street study. She shivered in her crimson evening cloak, her gloved hands resting in her lap, bawled up into little fists. She would not look at him - her eyes were cast to the floor, glittering with anger. He approached her, drawn in by the elegant curve of her exposed neck, and her dark glossy ringlets, piled high on her head. An errant curl had tumbled free from its' elegant confine, and he reached out a hand - intent on placing the offending lock back into its' proper place. She turned her head so suddenly with a glare so fierce that he snatched his hand away, almost fearing that she would bite it, so vicious were her eyes.
"Can you see me now, 'Enry 'Iggins?"
"I have always been able to see you perfectly well, Eliza."
The magnificent creature rose to her full height, diamonds sparkling at her ears and throat, her white gown speckled with stars.
"What do you see?" She inquired, her voice soft as a velvet glove.
"I am at a loss for words."
She gave him one of her ironic little half-smiles, gazing up at him from beneath her thick eyelashes with an almost coquettish expression. "Professor Higgins at a loss for words?"
"Only when it matters."
Tears appeared at the corners of her luminous eyes. "Then I am sad for you." With a sigh, she turned and walked out of the room.
"Wait!" She did not heed his plea, so he gave chase, finding her impossible to catch even though he was running and she was keeping an easy pace. She was going to exit his home, and wander into the fog. Already it crept through the cracks in the front door, curling and billowing about, and when Eliza opened the door, it consumed her entirely, leaving nothing behind.
Henry could do nothing but stand in the entryway, paralyzed with fear of the harshness outside, calling out her name until his voice grew so hoarse that he had to cease.
Eleanor Higgins pressed a cold cloth against her son's burning forehead, and whispered soothing words in order to quiet his delirious cries.
"Henry - hush, my love. Mother is here."
Her son thrashed about weakly, still whispering for Eliza in a helpless tone that caused his mother's heart to shatter.
"Eliza is not here, Henry - I had to send her away."
Henry furrowed his brow, and opened his eyes just a fraction. "Why?"
"You are ill, love - I did not want her to get ill as well... or her son."
He gasped, and then was overcome with a violent coughing fit. Eleanor acted quickly to get him turned on his side, so that he could expell the sickness without choking himself.
"I... have a son?" He asked, once the fit had passed and his was resting on his back once more. Eleanor did not know how much more she could take.
"No, darling - Eliza's son is Freddy's boy."
"Marry Freddy..." Even in his weakened state, his disgust was apparent. "Heartless..."
"Oh, my sweet boy."
"Bring her back?"
Eleanor felt the tears threaten to spill as she was faced with the proof that her son was in love with Eliza, and had been for some time. "I cannot. This flu is particularly nasty to young people, Henry - do you want Eliza to die?"
Henry whimpered, and Eleanor realized that she ought not have been so blunt. "She will return when you are well. I sent her to Wimpole Street in order to meet with Mrs. Pearce and help with hiring on new staff at your home."
Henry smiled, and closed his eyes. "That is good."
Eleanor nodded, and wiped the tears from her eyes. She fervently prayed that her son would be able to return to his home in good health, and maybe...
Well, it was not her place to reveal to Eliza what had transpired here, obviously. Hopefully, Henry would have the good sense to propose to the girl. Eleanor bite her bottom lip, apprehensively. If Henry pulled through, there was a good chance he would not remember a single thing - even if these were his private, innermost thoughts. Still... she could not reveal anything. She could prod things along, however...
If only he would live. His fever was spiking dramatically, and it had become far too dangerous to move him to hospital. The family doctor had yet to show, being busy with other housecalls due to this new wave of illness. Eleanor still remembered Eliza's stricken face when she had been informed of Henry falling ill.
"He's just had too much too drink, Mrs. Higgins!" The girl had tried to reason, unable to accept that her mentor was most likely at Death's door. Eliza had initially refused to leave the house, wanting to stay and utilize her nursing experience. Eleanor had refused her help emphatically. They could not risk Jack becoming an orphan, it would be too tragic. Henry, despite his delirious demands for Eliza's presence, would not want her there had he the mental faculties to process the risk - therefore, Eliza, Jack and Colonel Pickering were sent away to open up the house on Wimpole street. Eleanor had hoped the task would distract Eliza; however, the girl had been calling relentlessly, inquiring after Henry's condition, sounding as though she would shatter everytime Eleanor gave her a grave report.
Surely Henry's regard was reciprocated - it was not a completely unrealistic thought. Eliza had been a widow for over two years, and had been a part of Henry's world for longer than that. The timing was right - Eleanor determined - and the match was a fine one. She could not think of a couple that knew each better than her Henry and Eliza, and - what was more - she could not think of a single woman who would tolerate her son the way Eliza did.
"You must live for Eliza's sake, dearest."
"Professor?" A feminine voice caressed his ears, and he turned in time to see her standing before him in wedding finery. They standing in the front of a church, every inch of the interior covered with a thick layer of dust, and empty except for the two of them.
"Are you marrying Freddy?"
She smiled. "I already did... do you not remember?"
"Then what are we doing here, pray?"
"That is precisely what I am doing for you."
"In a wedding gown?"
Eliza gave a short laugh. "This is how you wanted me to appear."
"Ridiculous. I am a con-"
"'Confirmed old bachelor', yes, I know."
"So, why would I want you to appear thusly?"
Eliza responded by pressing her lips against his own, in a brief, chaste caress. It was like being touched by a butterfly. "That is something I cannot answer for you, Professor." She turned away from him, intent on leaving once more.
"Please do not do that again!" He cried. She turned back, astonished.
"Kiss you?"
"No- leave."
"You know where to find me, Professor. I will be waiting."
She was gone, once more.
Two days after Henry had fallen ill, Eliza eyed the telephone - distractedly - as Mrs. Pearce fussed over Jack while sitting on the sofa in Henry's study. The older woman had managed to be a nurse in a field hospital during the war, but was only too happy to return to Wimpole street, where she had been employed since Professor Higgins had branched out on his own as a young man. The sight of a small child in the professor's decidedly bachelor abode was astonishing, and quite welcoming. Truth be told, it was a sight Mrs. Pearce confessed to never dreaming to see.
"It is only temporary, Mrs. Pearce. I will stay long enough to help Professor Higgins re-establish his household, and then I will return to the flat above my shop."
"Oh, do not be silly, I am sure the professor would love to have you stay on. He can scarcely find North without your guidance." The last bit was added in a low, secretive voice. Eliza smiled weakly, and then looked to the telephone once more. The older woman clucked sympathetically. "Professor Higgins posesses a fine constitution. I am sure he will be back to his old self in no time at all."
"I wish I could be there to help."
"Well, I do not! Good heavens, girl - that sickness could fell you in an instant, and then where would we all be?"
"I imagine you are right."
"And I won't have anymore nonsense about you living in that shabby little flat, either."
Eliza glared. "I daresay I will live where I like."
Mrs. Pearce stood up, with Jack still in her arms. "I daresay you will, girl."
"Jack seems to find no shortage of doting admirers," Eliza remarked, changing the subject.
Mrs. Pearce beamed at the remark, and kissed the boy in question on the cheek. "He is as fine a boy as one could ever wish for, Eliza. You must be quite proud."
"Terribly, even if he can be a perfect beast - he seems to be putting on his Sunday manners for you, though."
"I simply know how to deal with difficult youngsters. I was the oldest child in a family of eight, and then only girl."
Eliza's eyes widened. "Perhaps I should hire you on as Jack's nanny and let him find a new housekeeper."
"The professor would never forgive such a thing, if you did!" Mrs. Pearce replied, laughing at the absurdity of it.
The phone rang. Eliza sprang from the sofa and had the receiver to her ear within moments. There was a long terrible silence, in which Eliza just listened to the person at the other end. Finally, she hung up, and looked to Mrs. Pearce, tears shining in her eyes.
"His fever broke."