Betrayal (46 page)

“She’s putting herself in harm’s way by leaving this house.” Nikolas said sounding angry.

“Yes. Presumably, acts of desperation. She is afraid as she is curious,” Evan said.

“I’ve felt her emotions, and your right, she doesn’t trust us, naturally. She is petrified of what she is, yet she is desperate to understand it. She feels as lost as a castaway adrift on a deserted island. I expected her instincts to be heightened. I expected her to feel at least a connection to us all.” Nikolas explained, sadly. His tone was low and subdued.

“Why doesn’t she trust us?” Evan asked.

“Come on, Evan. How would you feel if you were told that the life you know, the only life you remember, wasn’t real, and that you must rely on a group of strangers who claim to be your family in a time so foreign, that it feels like you may be in another kingdom or realm?”

Evan said nothing at first as he pondered Nikolas’ suggestion. “Strangers?”

“That’s what we are to her.” Nikolas added.

“I guess you’re right, trust would be impossible.”

I couldn't bring myself to listen to anymore. I felt nauseated. I crept back upstairs and into my room, unnoticed. I got back into bed, ignoring the cotton balls in my throat. I pulled the covers, which were still warm, over my head. I shut my eyes tightly, but the tears leaked out anyway.

TwentyFour

A Matter of Time

The next morning when Sun Paw woke me up, I didn't get out of bed. I was exhausted from being up in the middle of the night, and was prepared to miss my morning ride with Bethany. When Sun Paw informed me that Bethany had said she felt we should take a break from riding today, I snuggled back up to my pillow with a smile on my face. When I finally decided to get up it was after eleven in the morning. I found a sealed note on my bed side table with just my first name on it. I recognized the handwriting. It was from Gerald. He wanted to meet for brunch today.

I didn’t know what to expect from him, but I intended to accept the invite. This was going to piss a few people off, but I had to be there. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to speak with Winston. I bathed and dressed as quickly as I could, putting on the first dress I saw in the closet. I was getting a little better at fastening the corset by myself. I crept down the stairs to the foyer, and then escaped the house full of voices, all dining in the sun room, in haste. I speedily made my way down the street to Gerald's house. In a matter of seconds, I was at the Bergnum's front door. This time I would apologize to Gerald for how I acted – running off the way I did the day before. But, more importantly, I wanted to plan a private meeting for Winston and me. I'm sure it could be arranged being that he was a ghost, and could be anywhere at any time. The same tall wiry middleaged man answered the door –

Rutherford, the butler. Once again he recognized me, and once again he didn't look pleased to see me.

“Master Gerald awaits you in the parlor. Follow me.” He commanded, in the same raspy flat tone as he took my parasol and hat. I followed him as ordered.

“Miss Cordelia Tieron, Master Gerald.” Rutherford announced with a hint of annoyance as he ushered me into the sun lit parlor.

I quickly scanned the room for Winston, but he was nowhere in sight. I should have known he wasn't around since the room wasn’t bitter cold. Gerald rose from a velvet tufted chair. He smiled from ear to ear. He had obviously forgiven me for my silly display the day before. I would still apologize although it may not be necessary.

Beside Gerald was an elderly woman who looked at me in disdain. She sat in a large wicker backed chair that she seemed confined to. It was Gerald’s grandmother, Ms.Hortance Bergnum, the upper crust of Nickel City's affluent aristocracy who believed that her money, old money from generations who came before her, not the newly acquired wealth generated from the mines, was the only money worth anything. The old woman was pallid, scrawny, and appeared to be about eighty years old, give or take a wrinkle or age spot. Her prune like face was one of those faces that you knew was once very pretty, but her arrogance overshadowed any chance of that prettiness ever coming through. Her once vibrant blue eyes were now empty and fogged with contempt.

Ms. Bergnum wore all black as if she were in mourning. Black from the lace doily pinned to her severe bun, to the black satin jewel encrusted shoes. She was drenched in twinkling stones. They dangled from her neck, down to her gaunt wrists, and sparkled blindingly as the sunlight ricocheted off of her blanched face unto every piece of jewelry. Her speckled neck was partially concealed by a high lace collar which was also covered with miniature stones as glittery as the larger ones on her wrists and fingers. She appraised me as I observed her gaudiness. Gerald made the awkward, yet unavoidable introductions while stepping closer to me.

“Grandmother, of course you remember Cordelia Tieron. She has returned from her trip to France. She will be having brunch with us,” Gerald beamed.

The old woman’s welcoming glare was as warm as a glacier.

“I was not aware that we were having company for brunch.” Ms. Bergnum said, scornfully in a surprisingly clear and crisp voice as she eyed me as cautiously, as one would eye a rattlesnake. I suppose she thought that my plan was to slither in here, and take her grandson away.

“I'm sure I mentioned that Cordelia would be joining us.” Gerald confirmed, nervously.

“I may be an old and withering woman, with more aches in my deteriorating bones than I care to admit, but my mind, my dear grandchild, is not. My aches have returned, and I’m in no mood to entertain,” Ms. Bergnum said, frigidly then rang a tiny bell which summoned Rutherford. As Rutherford walked into the room, Ms. Bergnum began speaking.

“Rutherford, I will be dining in here. Please arrange for a table to be brought in.”

“Yes, Madam.” Ruthorford said, expressionless.

“Grandmother – ”

“It's already been arranged, please carry on with your guest, Gerald.” And just like that we were dismissed.

“Yes, Grandmother.” Gerald agreed, obediently as he ushered me out of the parlor and into the adjacent sun room.

The sun room wasn't a sun room at all. More like a green house. There were so many tall potted ferns along the glass walls that the sun was only allowed in through the few inches left exposed close to the ceiling. What a waste I thought. Why have glass walls then cover them up? I peered through the ferns along the wall, and saw the top half of Evan's home above the tall hedges that secured the Bergnum’s garden. Evan’s house was magnificently huge – larger than I remember it in the future, but still not as large as my house. I could see the roof of the beautiful rose entwined gazebo. I wondered if Gerald could see the entire gazebo from his balcony, because if he could, then there was a good chance that he witnessed Evan and I.

“Cordelia, please have a seat.” I walked over to the attractively set table for two, and sat in the chair which Gerald had pulled out for me. He sat directly across from me. I smoothed my satin dress, and decided to say what I came to say.

“There is something that I would like to say.” Gerald seemed to be listening intently. “I just want to apologize for running out of here the way I did. It was childish.” I smiled, timidly. So did Gerald, exposing an even more handsome face.

“I've already forgotten about yesterday. Today is a new day, and I’m delighted that you accepted my invitation. Please, enjoy.” Gerald smiled again, but watched me cautiously as if I might try to run out again. I tried to relax, and enjoy the crab cakes.

“I'm sorry about my grandmother. It's not you. In her opinion, no one is good enough.” He explained as he took a bite of his crab cakes.

“That’s alright, really.”

“Personally, I don't think she’s ready to be left alone in this huge house. Rutherford has been with my family for a little over forty years but he's not quite the chatty companion, and grandmother enjoys plenty of conversation.”

“What will you do when you do find someone?” I was curious.

“I already have.” He declared triumphantly shoving another bite into his mouth.

“You have?” I stopped chewing but kept my eyes on my plate. I hoped that he meant someone other than me.

“Yes, I have someone in mind.” Gerald hinted with a wink. I was consumed by the beauty of his smile, but didn't allow myself to return the smile. I knew all along that that he had meant me, and smiling would be confirming that I was accepting it. It was imperative that I not lead him on. I tried to focus, and continued with the tasty crab cakes.

“I wonder who that could be.” Winston pretended to muse, finally making an appearance, and bringing along the arctic blast. The feeling of relief washed over me with the chill. I began to shiver, and hoped my teeth wouldn't start chattering, or Gerald will surely think that I’m anemic or something.

“I decided the sunroom for brunch, expecting the room to feel temperate, yet it’s colder in here than it was in the parlor.” Gerald commented.

“Its fine, I’m comfortable.” I said, still shivering.

Winston knew his brother better than anyone. He knew for a fact that Gerald had meant me. If Winston really knew the truth about me, then he also knew that Gerald and I could never be together. Waiting for an opportunity to speak with Winston was driving me mad. With Gerald sitting opposite me, I doubt that I would get the chance. Despite feeling awful about using Gerald for an opportunity to communicate with his brother, I was overcome with a genuine feeling of desperation to do something that would force Gerald to leave the room, even if it was only for a moment. I continued to shiver.

Winston leaned against the only wall in the sun room that wasn't made of glass, with his arms folded across his chest. He wore the same gray pinstriped suit that he wore the day before; his eternal attire.

“How is Bethany?” Gerald asked, seeming only mildly interested.

“She's well. She’s engaged to marry Nikolas.” I announced, trying to appear informed, and trying to hide the fact that I was freezing. Strangely as cold as that room felt, my crab cakes were still quite warm.

“They shall be happy, I suppose. Nikolas is a fine gentleman.” I wasn't sure if he meant that sarcastically, but I suspected that he did. I suppose he knew that Bethany had interfered, and forced me to stop seeing him.

“Yes, I'm sure they will be, and yes he is.” I agreed.

“I predict in about a year that I will be married as well.” Gerald said, gazing into my eyes.

“So, you’re engaged.” I said, knowing that he wasn’t, and hoping that he was.

“I’m not.”

“Oh.” I nodded slowly.

“Cordelia, I’ve missed you, you must know that. I’ve missed you terribly...” Gerald laid his hand on mine and clasped it tenderly. I wanted to pull my hand away but couldn’t as if my hand wasn’t a part of my body and I had no control of it.

“Gerald I –” I was stunned momentarily as Gerald pressed his index finger lightly to my lips

“No, please let me finish. I expect that you will marry soon as well. It is no secret that Evander has waited for you. But so have I. I haven’t stopped loving you and –”

“I have to marry Evan.” I blurted. It was all I could think to say, as I watched the light in Gerald’s eyes diminish from a bright and glimmering beacon to a slowly flickering gaslight. I’d snuffed out any hope of us ever being together with that statement. But I didn’t feel anything for him, but the sadness of delivering bad news. I certainly didn’t feel the sadness of losing a lover.

“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do.” Gerald tried to reassure me with his eyes.

“I will marry Evan.”

“Cordelia, that isn’t what you want.”

“How do you know what I want?”

“You loved me once. You didn’t have to tell me. I knew.”

“Gerald, this is not what I came here for. This isn’t what I want.” I said, firmly sitting back in the large wicker chair.

“This?”

“Yeah. You declaring your love for me – someone that can never be with you that way. I’m sorry.”

Gerald let go of my hand. He sat back in his chair, and stared at me for a moment. I wasn’t sure what was going on in his mind right now. Then the whispers came and I knew that I was hearing Gerald’s thoughts.

Why don’t you want me? Why can’t you see how much I love you? Why are you doing this to me? Why did you come here? I don’t want to be friends.

Please don’t make me hate you…I can’t. I’ll only hate myself for not being who you want. Please love me.

I felt guilty, being the source of his pain.

“I’m sorry too.” Gerald said, solemnly. He averted his eyes to the glass wall beside him.

I desperately wanted to leave, but I had not had a chance to talk to Winston. I glanced at Winston who was stifling a yawn. He looked bored. He didn’t seem to care that I was breaking his brother’s heart. I felt sorry for him at that moment. He was dead, and forced to spend an eternity haunting this large house. Along with that, he was surrounded by a bitter old woman who didn't seem to have anything nice to say, and a younger, more handsome brother, who was full of life, reminding him of all the things he’d be missing out on. Winston was unpleasant simply because his soul was tortured with regret. I pitied him.

“A fool in love.” Winston said, as he deliberately knocked Gerald's glass over, spilling the full glass of tepid water onto Gerald's pants. Gerald, who had still been staring forlornly at the wall, instantaneously jumped up, and grabbed a table linen to dab at his pants. The upper portion of Gerald's pants was soaked, and the stain looked obscene, as if Gerald had urinated on himself. To Gerald’s chagrin, he caught me staring at the drenched spot as I tried to quickly avert my eyes.

“I... I don't know how this happened, please excuse me Cordelia, I will return momentarily.” Gerald stammered, obviously abashed, and completely dumbfounded at how his glass tipped over.

Winston stared at me with a triumphant look. Poor Gerald had no idea of the supernatural forces that were working around him. I was secretly thankful that Winston did something to rescue me from that awkward situation. Now I could finally have an opportunity to speak to him.