Chapter 43

"I beg your pardon?"

Julia swiped a wisp of hair from her face. "Madeline and I stopped in to say hello to Anthony and while we were chatting, another gentleman came in and asked for Elizabeth. When Elizabeth saw us, she introduced her uncle." She smiled again and touched my arm. "He looks similar to you. I thought so right away, even before Elizabeth said anything."

I scoffed at once and Julia furrowed her brow, her smile slipping away. "I thought you would be delighted to meet another member of your family. He was quite pleasant and said he looked forward to seeing us soon."

Surely we had not met the same man if my wife's description of him included looking similar to me and him being quite pleasant.

"He mentioned seeing you at his brother's home."

"What else did he say?"

Julia paused. She reached down to grab one of the bags she had brought home and shrugged. "Nothing more than pleasantries, really. Why are you upset?"

"I am not upset," I said through my teeth, which I suppose merely proved her point that I was indeed agitated.

"From what I gathered it sounded like the two of you met only briefly."

"Not brief enough,"I said under my breath.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

Julia merely shrugged in response and attempted rather unsuccessfully to carry everything brought into the house down the hall.

"Here," I offered as I took the bags from Julia's arms and followed her down the hall first to Alex's room, then to Lisette's where new clothing was placed in their respective wardrobes. The last two bags, which Julia kept, she brought upstairs and I followed her in silence.

"He was not pleased to meet me," I said once Julia placed the bags on top of our bed.

"What do you mean he was not pleased to meet you?" she asked. "Stand up straighter, please."

I did as Julia requested immediately while silently berating myself for obeying my wife without question. Truly I was no different than Bessie when I told her to sit before we crossed the street. How easily I had been trained without even realizing it.

Julia pulled a new waistcoat from the bag and held it up to my chest, then reached for a lawn shirt. Her eyes flashed up to meet mine and I automatically held out my arms like a well-dressed scarecrow, allowing her to check the length of the sleeves.

The material for the waistcoat was dark blue with six silver buttons patterned like Celtic knots, the lawn shirt white with thin, matching blue lines. She nodded in approval, placed the waistcoat on the bed along with the shirt, and proceeded to hold up a pair of matching trousers and do the same thing.

Once she finished using me like a mannequin, I finally stopped holding my breath and answered her question.

"I mean he was not pleased to meet me. He was...rude and insulting." Not only to me, but to Bessie, I wanted to add despite realizing that Julia would probably think I was being unreasonably defensive when it came to the dog.

Julia dug through the bag and placed a small box on top of the dresser. "Perhaps the two of you got off on the wrong foot," she suggested. "If it's any consolation, he did not make a single disparaging remark about you when we were introduced."

"That is no consolation at all."

Julia gave me a pointed look. "Erik, you tend to expect the worst out of everyone you meet."

"That is absolutely not true."

Julia's eyebrows shot up in silent question briefly before she sighed. "Look at Archie, for example. You were not fond of him at first, but then you got to know him."

Archie Leach was a dreadful example, but given my limited interaction with others, I realized Julia had few choices.

"And Charles," she added. "You shared the same home with him for how many years and never took the opportunity to know him until the last few months."

"This is different," I argued.

"I understand-"

"You absolutely do not." I grunted, aggravated by the situation. "You think this is my doing? Is that it?"

"Of course not."

"Then what, Julia? If you do not think I brought this upon myself, what do you think?"

"I don't know what to think." Julia threw her hands in the air and made a sound of frustration deep in her throat before she turned away from me. "You have not even told me what Phelan said to you."

Phelan had spoken the truth; I wore the mask of a ghost and I should have been dead. It was not so much the words that bothered me but his tone. He not only knew of me, but how to use my past against me while I knew nothing of him other than his name.

Frustrated, I paced the length of the room in silence, my hands on top of my head like a man disarmed while Julia continued sorting out her newest purchases. She looked at me occasionally as she rifled through the wardrobe and my dresser to put everything away, offered a smile, and continued about her business while I allowed my angry thoughts to flit through my mind unspoken.

My pace slowed as Julia carefully pulled out a dress from the last and largest bag and looked it over. The dress was similar to the one that had been ruined on the day we were supposed to leave for our holiday. She looked over the skirt and smoothed the fabric before placing it in the wardrobe and pulling out a second dress.

"You bought yourself two new dresses," I commented as I came to a stop in the middle of the room.

Julia pursed her lips and look somewhat embarrassed as she examined the garment in her hands. "I wasn't sure if I should, but this one is the same color as the dress I picked out for our holiday, then the other one matches your suit, so I thought it would be perfect for tomorrow…"

"Good," I said before she could reconsider her purchase or feel guilty for indulging. I walked toward her and kissed her forehead. "Just when I thought for certain you would gloss over the part of our vows about obeying your husband, you surprise me."

She looked at me from the corner of her eye and shook her head. "I intend to keep you on your toes for decades to come," she said lightly.

"I have no doubt of that."

Julia hung the dress in the wardrobe and turned to face me. She took a deep breath and looked me over, her expression placid. "Erik, what happened with Phelan?" she asked.

I looked away from her briefly, unsure of how to explain what had transpired. "Phelan is exactly like my father," I answered. It seemed like a foolish thing to admit, but I spoke the truth. "The moment I first saw him, it was like seeing a man risen from the dead. The same eyes, the same condescending tone...when he stood over me, my first instinct was to hold my breath and hope he would walk away and not notice I sat before him. It was...paralyzing, I suppose, the same feeling I had for thirteen years when I lived with the constant fear of my father coming for me."

Julia's eyebrows shot up in concern. "Goodness," she said under her breath.

"I made an effort to speak with him, I honestly did, but he wanted nothing to do with me well before I introduced myself," I said, feeling the need to defend myself. "From the way he looks to the way he spoke to me, he is a belligerent, short-tempered son of a..."

I stopped myself short of finishing my thought as I had no desire to show my own temper. If anything, I suppose irritability was a strong family trait.

Julia sat on the end of the bed and stared at her hands in her lap. "That was not at all how he acted when we met. You can ask Madeline, he was very cordial."

"Even if he had not been civil to you and Madeline, you would not understand how I felt from the moment I saw him this morning," I said, keeping my voice low. "The way he looked at me, the way he looked through me, Julia. No one has done that to me for a very long time. I suppose you would not know what I meant unless you had the displeasure of knowing my father."

Julia frowned and looked up at me. She reached out and I took her hand. Her fingers felt warm compared to mine. With the turn in conversation, I felt as though the warmth had left my body. The sensation was all too familiar.

"A time or two I've been in the market and saw someone who looked similar to Louis," Julia said gently. She stood and put her arms around me, her head against my chest. "I cannot imagine encountering someone who not only looks like him, but acts like Louis as well."

"I would never allow anyone to hurt you," I said firmly.

Julia looked up at me. "As you have said many times. And in case there was any doubt, I will not tolerate anyone speaking ill of my husband." She gave a curt nod. "Especially from a blood relative."

I smiled, appreciating her fierce, protective nature. The sight of my wife standing a full head shorter than me with her jaw set and determination in her hazel eyes lightened my mood in a way nothing else could. She amazed me, this woman who had done me the honor of being my wife.

"No one would ever suspect a tongue-lashing from Madame Kire."

To that Julia grinned and rose to the tips of her toes for a quick peck to my lips. "You said you had something for me to look over. Another letter from Joshua's collection?"

"One addressed to him, yes, but it was from the ones he gave me two months ago," I answered.

"Does it have something to do with Phelan?"

"No, actually, it does not. My uncle rarely spoke of Phelan when we were together. I had hoped to find something about him in one of the letters to Joshua, but none of the ones I read today mentioned him."

Julia nodded and followed me out of the room and down the stairs. "You found something different then?"

"I'd rather you read the letter than have me explain it," I said over my shoulder.

My hands felt clammy well before we reached the parlor. I wiped my palms on my trouser legs before I grabbed the letter and handed it to Julia. She took it in silence and I followed her toward the two chairs side by side in the corner of the room.

Julia sat where Lisette had previously read her book. She placed the envelope on the armrest between us and carefully unfolded the sheet of paper.

I almost asked her to skip toward the second part of the letter purely out of shame of the contents, but there was no use in keeping secrets from Julia. She knew enough of my past where I doubted she would truly be surprised by my uncle's words.

Julia frowned and absently reached for my hand without looking up from the page, then continued to the second part of the letter with her brow furrowed and thumb gently stroking the back of my hand cradled in hers.

With nothing else to do I simply observed her as she read and waited impatiently for my wife's expression to change. She blinked faster, her face contorting with sorrow as she reached the passages I did not want her to read about my childhood. I wished I could recall the particular evening my uncle had seen me limping back to my parents' home, but nights blurred together, a cycle of escaping from the cellar for a few hours only to return to the same hell.

"Erik," she said softly. Her hand grasped mine tighter.

Agonizing seconds passed and Julia did not utter another word. Her gaze flitted up to the top of the page and back through a second time before she gave my hand another squeeze.

"This is…" She looked through the letter for what I assumed was a third time before her glassy eyes met mine. "This is quite difficult to read."

I nodded.

Julia set the letter on the arm of the chair and rubbed her hand over her face. "I feel like I have had the displeasure of knowing your father," she said without looking at me. "I knew he was cruel, but I did not know he was cruel so frequently."

"Daily," I said under my breath. "Almost daily."

Her expression darkened. "It is unfathomable that someone could abuse a child like that."

"I did not think of it as abuse," I said. Truthfully I had known nothing else but mistreatment. "I thought of it as punishment."

Julia searched my face. "Punishment? Punishment implies you deserved to be treated like that."

I shrugged, a wave of cold swept over me and I shivered. "It was really not until Alex was born that I realized that my father wanted to hurt me," I said without thinking. "I can still recall how Alex screamed incessantly when he cut teeth and I wondered what my father would have done to me if I had cried for hours on end."

Julia swallowed hard, her lips quivering before she nodded. "I cannot imagine what you must have felt seeing this letter today."

"No different than the day it happened," I answered. "Not in the physical sense..."

"I know," Julia said before I continued. She inhaled and looked at the letter again. "As for the part you wanted to show me, I'm not sure where to start." She started to hand the letter back to me, then paused and looked it over again. "Your uncle was clearly in your life well before you traveled together., at least that is the way he makes it sound."

"Yes, but I have no recollection of him."

"I would assume you were an infant when he first saw you?"

I shrugged. I thought of how he would have made every attempt to console me if he had been in my life when I cut teeth. I had thought of him while I cared for Alex as an infant, considered his every move as I bounced Alex in my arms and thought for certain he would die. "Perhaps," I answered at last.

"Do you know where he went? Or how long he was absent?"

I shook my head. "I have no idea."

"And he never mentioned this to you when you were together?" Julia handed me the letter and sat back.

"Not a word." I looked over the letter as if answers would finally appear. "And I have no idea why he elected to keep it a secret while we were together."

The thought angered me. I trusted him more than anyone else and now I felt as though he had lied to me.

"Perhaps he thought you remembered?"

"If I was an infant then he would not expect me to remember it."

"True. Have you read the letter that follows this one?"

I glanced at the stack of unread letters on my desk. "Not yet, but..."

Julia stood before I continued speaking and took the half-dozen letters from the edge of the desk. She paused, picked up the toy soldier that had been stuck in my desk drawer, and regarded it a moment. With a smile she shook her head and placed it back on my desk.

"What was the date again on that one?" Julia asked. She thumbed through the letters and craned her neck to look at the one in my hand.

"March," I answered. "The third of March. The date on the second half is unreadable."

"This one is dated the twentieth," Julia said as she held up a letter from the pile and handed it to me. "And this one is from the twenty-third. The next one is from April."

I had no idea when my uncle had first successfully approached me, but I knew we had started our travel toward Paris some time in June and he had passed away either late in October or early in November. We had spoken for several weeks prior to the night he had taken me with him to his home above a butcher's shop, most likely around the time detailed in the letter Julia gave to me.

I stared at the envelope for a long moment, unsure of whether or not I wanted to read it. There were far too many questions left unanswered, and now that I had met Phelan, I felt desperate to know more about the members of my family who were little more than strangers to me still.

"You don't have to read it now," Julia said.

"I doubt I will find what I am looking for," I answered.

"What are you looking for, exactly?"

I shrugged. "Anything," I said truthfully. I would have settled for more information on how my uncle had known me or what had happened between him and Phelan. I wanted to know the world I had been denied, these pieces of myself I did not know existed.

"I was afraid of my uncle at first," I said, turning the envelope over in my hand. "He did not tell me who he was and I did not ask, but he came looking for me often when I escaped from my parents' house. The second night we spoke, he gave me his violin."

Julia leaned toward me and smiled.

I told her of how I had broken one of the strings weeks later, how I feared the consequences of breaking something that had belonged to someone else.

"Did he do anything more than raise his voice?" Julia asked.

"He did not reprimand me at all," I answered. "Not even with raising his voice."

I could still recall how I stood barefoot in the graveyard, my toes curled in the cool, damp grass, my trembling hands grasped tight to the violin behind my back.

"It was...unusual," I said.

"How so?"

"He showed me how to fix the string and then proceeded to remove all of them. He made me re-string the instrument so that I could repair it on my own, and he praised me the entire time, even when I had to start over."

I thought of how close he sat to me on the grass, how my hands shook so badly that I had to stop what I was doing and settle down.

My uncle-The Shadow, as I called him-had noticed my trepidation. He must have known I feared making a mistake and the punishment I expected would follow. I did not want to disappoint him or make him angry in those first few weeks.

"There was never a moment where he told me I was brainless or did not deserve to keep the violin. And when I expected to be punished, he promised his hand did not fly easily."

My uncle had kept his word. I healed inside and out when I was with him, brief as our time was together.

"I am glad you had him," Julia said quietly. "Without your uncle, we would not be sitting here today." She twisted in her chair and leaned into me, kissing me first on the cheek, then on the lips. She ran her fingers along the shell of my ear and smiled. "In the last few months I have learned more about you than I ever did in the five years we have known each other."

"I am ashamed," I replied. Goose flesh rose along my arms and I swallowed hard. "For years I have attempted to be a better man. First I wanted to be better for Madeline, then for Christine, and now for Alex and Lisette and especially for you. I struggle to be what you deserve."

Julia took my hand and linked her small finger with mine. "You make your uncle proud," she said. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles.

Julia released my hand and scooted her chair closer so that her head rested against my shoulder. I took a breath and pulled the letter from the envelope, searching for answers I did not expect to find on paper. We spent the rest of the time before Alex and Lisette returned reading through a handful of letters, but getting nowhere closer to answers.

"What are you going to tell Joshua about his invitation to supper on Saturday?" Julia asked.

"That we accept," I answered. I did not want to wait any longer than necessary to speak with Joshua. As much as I had no desire to see Phelan, I wanted to know what had happened to my uncle and why I did not have any recollection of him as a young child.

Julia didn't lift her head, but she still nodded. "You should have Joshua warn Phelan."

"I beg your pardon? Warn him about what?"

"That Madame Kire will be in attendance and that she will not tolerate a single remark spoken against her beloved husband." Her voice rang with laughter as she spoke, and although her warning was made in jest, I had a feeling if Phelan issued a sideways glance in my direction, Julia would give him a piece of her mind.

The thought of my wife standing on the tips of her toes with her finger pointing in Phelan's face made me snort. "Indeed, Madame. Indeed."