Dragonwyck (51 page)

'Could you leave Hudson, Jeff? For good, I mean.'

He turned to look at her, wondering what she meant by the question. She seemed to him more beautiful than she had ever been, though she was thin, and her hair, grown out to shoulder length and confined in a net, was no longer brightly blond, but a warm chestnut. There was now about her an integrity and a sweetness, the unmistakable stamp of one who has suffered and emerged at last to complete awareness of the soul.

'I can go anywhere, if you'll go with me,' he said. 'I want nothing but you.'

'And your work?'

'Yes. And my work.'

She smiled at him. 'I've been thinking, Jeff, I could help you. In California they need doctors. Need them desperately. I—' she hesitated, went on in that mature, controlled voice which still surprised him, 'I never want to go up-river again. I couldn't bear it. Though that's perhaps foolish.'

'No, my darling. It's not foolish.' He thought of the site of Dragonwyck as he had seen it a week ago. Her orders had been carried out, quixotic as they seemed to the surrounding countryside. All the furnishings had been sold at auction, everything, including Miranda's own wardrobe. The proceeds had gone in an anonymous gift to the city hospitals, and a large sum to an astounded little parish priest in Killarney with directions to send Peggy's family at once to the States. And use the rest in any way you see fit.'

Peggy was to marry her Hans Klopberg in the spring, and Miranda had already arranged the wedding present, though the little maid did not know it. The fertile acres where Nicholas had grown his exotic trees and where the greenhouses were situated, these would belong to Peggy and her descendants forever. But the manor house at Dragonwyck had been demolished. Its site was now nothing but a filled-in patch of raw earth on which the wild grasses were already beginning to grow.

'No,' said Jeff. 'You must never go back. And you must never look back, Miranda. If you want to go West, we'll go.'

He put his arm around her drawing her gently against him, but he felt her body stiffen and saw with dismay that she turned her head from him.

'Never look back.' Words whose measured tolling mingled with the small wind that sighed through the elms above the burying ground. She looked down at the quiet row of headstones. So peaceful they rested under the September sun—so safe ... While
he
in the cold darkness ... lying forever fathoms below the warmth and green of recurring summer, lying alone, as he had always been.

She made a choked sound, and Jeff felt a corroding jealousy as he saw the scalding tears gather in her eyes.

Will there always be this between us? Jeff thought.—Is she not yet free from him?

But then she turned suddenly and read his face and his heart.

'No, Jeff—' she said. 'It's not that. It's just that he was—so—so terribly alone.'

They were both silent, gazing out together across the fields toward the setting sun. Understanding came to him. She's right, he thought; all cruelty and passion must burn away at last to leave behind them only pity.

She slipped her hand into his, secure in the welcoming strong response. She shut her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder.

END