X
Ben stretched his legs under the table and tried not to appear as bored as he was.
Mr. Merriman's brother and his wife were visiting from Boston, and she'd insisted on having a supper with the two Miss Coles as company.
It was not going well for Mr. Merriman's reluctant apprentice.
After Lissie's revelation of her struggle to live, to even summon the will to survive, Ben couldn't help but resent the trite conversation that was keeping him from seeing her—from making sure that she was still drawing breath. How could he sit and even pretend to take an interest in the worries of wet roads and cancelled parties when Lissie might never walk properly again?
He recalled the way she'd limped back to the tannery; the way she tried to hide how painful even those few yards were.
The conversation came to a sudden halt at the shocking sound of his fork clattering against the empty plate. Ben mumbled an apology. Annabelle Cole smiled his way, and he threw his head back to empty an entire glass of water so that she couldn't tell how his eyes rolled at the unwanted gesture.
Knowing very well how rude his manners were, Ben set his glass down none too gently and looked to Mr. Merriman, pleading silently for him to break up the festivities and release Ben from his torture.
But it was to no avail. Mr. Merriman was sincerely enjoying the conversation and the company, and Ben alone felt smothered by the delicate china and crystal wine glasses.
His plate was painted with holly and a red ribbon bunched up at the top. It reminded him of Lissie's hair and how it stood out so brightly amongst the dull, grim colours she wore. Her hair was growing, but ever so slowly. It now was to the nape of her neck; a scraggly mess of wild curls, snipped short of their fullness. Ben had been telling the truth when he said she was still pretty. If anything, the bounty of hair no longer fell into her face, hiding her eyes away from him. It was only for Lissie's sake of comfort, and the terrible loss she felt that made him so angry.
Ben's fists clenched under the table as the smaller Cole sister asked after the shop; a subject which Mr. Merriman could continue on for hours.
Every moment here was a waste.
-x-
The tannery was terrifying at night. He'd been there in the evening, towards dusk as night crept close, but never at such an ungodly hour and without Lissie's presence. The shambled house looked evil, like its black soul had sucked Lissie into it and would not let her go.
Ben shuddered but went on.
Every footfall seemed to echo forever. Somewhere in the night, an owl screeched its disapproval—or success at capturing prey. Ben couldn't be certain.
As he neared what once had been the porch, Ben stiffened. What was he to do? Knock on the door and ask for Lissie? He quickly realised he was foolhardy to come with no plan.
A sliver of light beckoned from a crack in the window—the shutters were long in shambles.
He took it as a sign and crept forward.
Peering into the window granted him a view of a crude kitchen of sorts. Most of it was blackened by soot. The source of the light came from a single candle that was little more than a lingering stump. Soon it would be nothing but a wick in a puddle of melted wax.
But the light it produced was just enough for Ben to make out a crumpled figure at the table. Lissie was asleep, her hands folded under as a makeshift pillow for her head. He wondered why she'd placed the candle in the window rather than kept it nearer herself. There was no fire anywhere to be seen, and her shabby shawl could not be enough to fight off the chill.
Ben could stand it no longer. He went to the door, breathed a silent prayer, and pushed.
It was not latched, and gave way on his insistence.
Treading ever so softly, he came upon his poor Lissie.
She woke as he placed his coat over her shoulders and tried to tuck it under her chin. She whimpered a sigh, pressed her lips together and opened her eyes. Upon recognising whose face peered at her, she started up.
"Ben!"
"Shshsh..." he cautioned her, kneeling beside the chair so she would have no need to get up. "I had to come. Mr. Merriman had guests, and I couldn't leave until now... Will he wake up?" he glanced over his shoulder, realising he had no idea where Jiggy Nye slept.
Lissie's eyes drifted to the room behind Ben. "No. He drank so much tonight."
"Lissie," Ben gently squeezed the cold hand that had already found its way into his, "Why don't you keep the candle near you?"
"Most nights I do. Tonight, I thought... Perhaps... It was silly, but I thought it might lead you here. It was foolish to think you could even see it from outside."
"But I did!" Ben tried to keep his voice soft, "I wasn't sure I should come in until I saw the light from the window."
Lissie's tired face broke out into a smile. "I shouldn't have said those things last time that..." She ducked her head. "I shouldn't have worried you. You can't be running off in the night just to look after me."
Ben brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Of course I can. I will always come for you, remember?"
Lissie sighed contentedly, laying her head back on the table. "I did hope you would come. Will you stay with me? Just until daybreak?"
"Of course." He stood to assess the articles in the kitchen. There were two chairs; the one Lissie sat on, and one of much better quality at the head of the unsightly table. The place smelled of gin, and decay. There was a stove, a fireplace; but nothing within except soot.
"Where is your bed?" he queried.
"Here," she said sleepily. "Or on the floor when we have a fire."
Ben shook his head against the many thoughts that threatened to ruin his precious time with Lissie. He situated himself so that his back was against the wall and held his arms out to her. "Come here."
"What do you mean?"
"This is your bed for the night. Or do you think the table makes a better pillow than I?"
-x-
Lissie slept soundly, not even stirring until the morning light stole in from the window and woke her. Ben cursed it inwardly, realising that he would even think harshly of sunlight for disturbing his Lissie's peace.
He made sure to be off before Jiggy Nye might awaken. Lissie knew if she thought too long on it she might ask him to stay, and she knew that he would do whatever she asked. But she would not cause trouble. She would not make Ben suffer the consequences of Jiggy Nye finding him while still recovering from the affects of excessive drinking.
Instead, it was Mr. Merriman that Ben had to face as he entered the storeroom to begin the day's work.
"Where have you been?" he asked, not too sternly, though he tried to mask his concern with a scowl.
Ben attempted to straighten his queue and rearrange his rumpled clothing. "Helping a friend in need, sir."
"Am I not privy to the knowledge of who this friend is?"
A sigh escaped him. "I am sorry, sir. 'Tis not my secret to tell."
Mr. Merriman nodded, and proceeded to look over the contents of an apple crate. "Are you in trouble?"
"I am not. Though my friend would be, were I to say more."
"I see."
Ben was grateful that there was work enough to end all idle talk for the morning, but it seemed Mr. Merriman was not finished.
"I wished to ask how you enjoyed last night's supper."
Ben thought something strange in the change of topic, but so long as he was not being prodded about Lissie he would not complain.
"Rose is a wonderful cook," he replied. "I am always grateful for the meal she arranges."
"I meant the company. How did you enjoy socialising?"
So that's what this was about. Ben hid his eyes under a shelf of preserves. "Your brother is a sensible man, and his wife very... amiable."
"What of the young ladies?"
Mr. Merriman was not dismayed by Ben's long silence. "You will not be an apprentice forever," he said, placing a hand on Ben's hunched shoulder. "I think I should tell you... I plan on turning the store over to you once you've fulfilled your contract. That is, if that pleases you."
"Me?" Ben whipped around to face his employer. "But surely your family...! What if you marry? What if you have a son?"
"There was only ever one woman for me, and she is dead now," he stated. "Nor was she mine to mourn."
"Then perhaps, sir, you will understand when I say I have no intentions with either of the Miss Coles. There is a lady who has my heart... but 'tis a hopeless case, and yet I will never be prevailed upon to think on another."
Mr. Merriman opened his mouth and then shut it again. "You should reconsider. It is too late for me, but I wish you would find happiness. Court a pretty woman. Marry. Bring a mistress to this house, and fill it with your children's laughter. For my sake, as well as yours."
"Sir, I would rather content myself with loneliness than desert the woman I love for a chance at happiness elsewhere. "
The silence that followed was brief, but meaningful. "I fear for you, then. If it is hopeless as you say, I fear we will both die bachelors."
"Hopeless it may be, but I will find a way. I will save her."
Mr. Merriman was doubtful, but said no more on the matter.