We Hear the Dead (28 page)

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Authors: Dianne K. Salerni

BOOK: We Hear the Dead
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“What?” I said, impatiently. I was scarcely in the mood for riddles. “Who are you talking about?”

“Cornelius Grinnell,” replied my erstwhile chaperone. “That's who was at the door. He asked my mother to turn over your letters from Dr. Kane. Mother put him off, telling him she did not think you had any with you, although they are right on your bedside table. She lied for you.”

And with that, Miss Walters retreated into her own lair, having laid me low with her words just as surely as if she had hit me with a poker iron.

In the darkness of my room, I collapsed to a seat on my bed and stared at the bundle of precious letters on the side table.

Elisha had not come to see me, nor sent me any word.

But Cornelius Grinnell, that dogsbody of all dirty work, had been sent to retrieve his letters. All Elisha's love letters.

I began to tremble violently, as though I had taken a sudden fever. And all that sleepless night, I thought about what tomorrow would bring.

And what I would do.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Kate

A change had come over my sister.

In the days following Dr. Kane's rescue, Maggie was ecstatic. Her dreams were destined to be fulfilled, or so she thought, and her world revolved around a man she believed would give up his wanderings for her—just as she had given up her life of excitement and purpose for him.

But now, as I faithfully attended her on the third day after his arrival in the city, I knew that she had received some news changing her perception of the situation. She would not tell me what it was, but her ashen appearance spoke of a fretful, sleepless night, and her usually bright eyes were dim with grief.

Rejecting all the bright new gowns I had given her, Maggie selected a dress several years old, one that Dr. Kane had seen many times. Donning this simple frock, she bid me tighten her corset until she could scarcely draw breath to fill her lungs and she looked as if she might faint dead away. Then, because she could no longer raise her arms, she directed me in the dressing of her hair. Halfway through the process, I realized what she was doing, if not why. She was making herself over in the image of that foolish painting Dr. Kane had commissioned. This was the very dress she had worn for those sittings, and in her pale, breathless state, she looked just like the fragile creature on the canvas. When we were done she sank down upon her bed to wait for the arrival of the man who had consumed her thoughts and desires all these long years. Her lips, as bloodless as the rest of her, moved slightly, whispering, “Please, let me endure this with dignity.” Whether she spoke to me or herself or to God, I did not know.

There was nothing I could do for her but sit beside her and hold her thin, cold hand.

Hours passed in silence, and then around noon I heard the clamor of horses beneath Maggie's window and a sharp rap on the front door. My sister closed her eyes briefly and swayed. There were footsteps downstairs and men's voices. It was only a matter of minutes before Mrs. Walters came to fetch us, looking flushed and distressed.

By this time, no one believed that the coming reunion would be a joyous one. Maggie turned to me and met my solemn, sympathetic gaze. “Do not let me faint,” she whispered, and I nodded, gripping her arm with my nails pressed against her flesh.

Down to the parlor we went, where they were waiting for us, standing opposite the door on the other side of the tea table as if it were some strong barrier instead of a wobbly old piece of furniture. We had seen Dr. Kane in his naval uniform before, but never like this—in full, formal dress regalia with all his honors displayed upon his chest. In spite of the glamour, he looked dreadful. The Arctic had aged him. His face was weathered and haggard, with cheekbones pronounced by months of starvation. His hair had thinned and receded. I barely restrained a gasp, recognizing these features from my vision two years before. Surely, this was the face I had seen in a coffin!

Beside him stood a man who could only have been a brother. The resemblance was unmistakable. Their facial features were nearly the same, save for the younger man's heavily hooded eyes, which were as cold and unfeeling as his brother's were warm and passionate.

It was the brother who did the speaking. He had brought a document for Maggie to sign, a statement that denied any relationship between Dr. Kane and herself besides a fraternal friendship and charitable funds that were to end immediately. In particular, it stated that there was not, nor ever had been, any engagement of marriage between Maggie and Elisha. This man, this Robert Kane, laid the document on the table with the expectation that Maggie would sign it and testify to its truth.

I would have protested, and Mrs. Walters, standing in the doorway, did sputter some well-meant intervention. But it was as if none of us were present. There was no one really in the room except Maggie and Elisha, whose overwhelming distress reduced the rest of us to vague shadows.

Dr. Kane said nothing but stared at her with undisguised longing. He shifted his weight and opened his mouth as though to speak, but his brother gripped his arm and Elisha subsided compliantly. From my own position, where I held my sister and lent her my support, I glared across the table. It was family against family, that much I recognized, and I blasted Elisha with my derision, wordlessly cursing him for his weakness. Polar bears and icy wastelands may have held no fear for him, but clearly there was something in this world that intimidated him.

Maggie kept her eyes modestly cast down. She was the picture of loveliness and innocence, as pure and virtuous as that painting Elisha had so admired. I was never more proud of her than when she stepped forward, took up the pen without a tremor, and signed her name. Then, deliberately, she laid down the writing instrument and removed the diamond and enamel ring from her finger. She lifted her face and met Elisha's gaze for just one second—then carefully placed the ring beside the document of falsehood and turned away.

She did not see Elisha flinch as though she had struck him. She did not see his brother's hand tighten upon his arm to restrain him. As Maggie passed through the doorway, Dr. Kane's gaze flickered briefly to me, as if to seek forgiveness or understanding, but I just shook my head in disgust. He was not the man I thought he was.

At that moment, there was a small commotion in the hallway and an outcry from Mrs. Walters. Half turning, I realized that poor Maggie's knees had buckled under her and that she had nearly crumpled to the floor in a dead faint, saved only by Mrs. Walters's quick response.

This at last broke Elisha's resolve. He threw off his brother's grip and started for the doorway. But I was quicker, sweeping ahead of him and closing the door in his very face, shutting him off from my sister.

Chapter Forty

Maggie

I lay in bed with the curtains drawn all the rest of that terrible day. I cried until I vomited, and when I was too exhausted to sob any longer, I stared at the ceiling and let the tears roll down my cheeks. Kate stayed with me, and Mrs. Walters, too. Mother heard about it soon enough and joined us.

I had kept my dignity until the very last minute; that at least was a comfort. If I had burst into tears or raged at the injustice and cruelty of it, I would have proved myself to be no more than Robert Kane thought, common and vulgar. At least I had handled myself like a lady, at what cost they would never know.

Miss Leiper had warned me. I cannot say that I had not been warned. And she was not the only one, although I could not bear to think just then about the sister who had foreseen this all along.

But the agony of seeing Elisha after all these months, to have him stand there and say not a word—it was like a horrible nightmare from which I could not wake. It was as if he had died after all.

Kate and Mother and Ellen Walters had nothing but hateful things to say about him. Kate threatened to send a note to Mr. Greeley, telling him that the hero whose exploits were splashed across his newspaper had just dishonorably broken an engagement with a woman he had promised to marry. I grabbed her hand at that and made her swear that she would do no such thing. That was the sort of low-class response they would have expected from me. The day ended as it had begun, with me curled in a miserable ball in my bed, tormented and sleepless. Kate climbed in and slept beside me, trying to comfort me with her warmth and love. But it was not her embrace I needed.

The following morning, I was roused from a stupor that could scarcely be called sleep by Mrs. Walters shaking my shoulder. “Maggie, he is back again! Tell me what to do, child! He is in the parlor, and he says he will not leave without seeing you.”

“Why am I not surprised?” muttered Kate as we sat up wearily. I rubbed my eyes, which felt dry and gritty with grief and exhaustion. Kate was red cheeked with sleep but ready for a fight. “Shall I go down and give the wretched man an earful?” she offered.

“Dr. Kane says to tell you that he will not go away until you come down,” Mrs. Walters fretted. “He looks prepared to lay siege here all day. And he said to give you this.” She held out her hand, and I could see that he had given her the vile document from yesterday, torn into small pieces.

“A pretty gesture,” Kate said bitterly, “but meaningless after what he put her through.”

“I would agree,” Ellen Walters concurred.

I held up my hand. “Please, let me decide for myself. Tell him I will come down in an hour, Mrs. Walters. Let him wait, if he will.”

***

There was no sense of yesterday's heightened drama. I entered the parlor to find him quietly seated in the shabbiest chair, leaning forward and staring at the ground, his elbow resting upon his knee and his forehead held in one hand. He stirred only slightly at my presence, looking up at me with eyes sunken in dark circles. He had not slept either. Today, the naval uniform was not in evidence. He wore only an old suit, two years out of style and rather ill fitting.

I turned to Mrs. Walters and Kate, quietly asking them to leave the room. My sister scowled and Mrs. Walters looked scandalized. I waved the handful of torn papers at them. “We are nothing but fraternal friends,” I said with only a hint of sarcasm. “Leave the door open, and I am sure my reputation will not be damaged.”

They did not exactly approve, but they withdrew out of respect for my feelings. “I will be just down the hall,” Kate said. “Call out if you need me.”

Dr. Kane looked at her in exasperation. “I will not harm her, Kate,” he said.

“More than you have already done, you mean?” she returned acidly.

“Hush,” I whispered. “Go.”

When we were alone, I walked across the room until I was standing in front of him, then opened my hand and sprinkled the torn pieces of paper at his feet. He dropped his eyes in shame, and I retreated to the farthest corner of the room, taking a seat and drawing breath to keep my composure.

We sat for a long moment in silence, and in spite of myself I discovered that I was content to have him here, safe and sound, even under these circumstances.

I waited him out, and he spoke first.

“What can I say, Maggie? I have wronged you terribly.” He looked at me in misery, still holding his head in his hand as if he was too weary to lift it.

“If you wished to break our engagement, why did you not come to me privately and say so?” I asked him sadly. “I would have freed you from your promise if you had asked me. Why was it necessary to humiliate me? Did you think I would make a scandal of it?”

“There is no excuse for my actions yesterday,” Elisha admitted. “But I want you to understand that I was not in New York two hours before my family and I were engaged in a terrible argument—over you. The newspapers have been reporting our engagement, and my father was beside himself. My mother was prostrate with hysteria. My mother, Maggie! Pulling out her hair in handfuls! My brother Robert thought it was best to act quickly and get from you a statement that corroborated the story my family wished to publicize.”

I let out my breath in derision. “The detestable Robert. Your aunt called him that, you know.”

“My aunt,” Elisha laughed bitterly, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit coat. “My aunt. Heaven knows how she found out so quickly. I received this from her last night.” He unfolded a piece of paper, easily recognizable as a telegram, and read aloud: “If you have deceived that young girl whom you placed in my charge, you will never be welcome in my home again.” He thrust the telegram back into his pocket, shaking his head. “That's my favorite aunt turning against me for your sake. I'll be hearing from the Pattersons next, I expect.”

“Ever since you left, there has been gossip about our engagement,” I told him. “The Grinnells have always blamed my family for this publicity, but I swear to you, it has never come from us. You proposed to me in front of a room full of people, do you remember? You cannot blame me or my sisters if your family found out before you were ready to tell them. You have greatly misjudged me if you believed I would injure you to further my own aims.” I looked away from him in a sudden surge of distress, blinking back tears. “I wonder, did you ever know me at all? When I saw my name linked with yours in the newspaper, I was proud!” Turning back to face him, I met his eyes with dignity. “But you…you were ashamed, weren't you?”

Elisha was shaken. “I am not ashamed of you,” he protested weakly, but he was lying, even to himself.

Once again an awkward silence fell upon us as we each sat miserably in our respective corners of the room. He was as unhappy as I was, but it was his own doing. I was faultless here, and we both knew it.

“Where do we go from here?” he asked finally.

I exhaled and shook my head. “We are not anything more than fraternal friends, brother and sister. We signed a statement, have you forgotten?”

He waved his hand at the floor. “I have torn up that document.”

“Your brother is a lawyer,” I replied. “I signed that paper before witnesses. It is a legal truth now, no matter what you have done with the paper. Even I know that, Ly!”

The use of his old pet name nearly unmanned him. With a choked cry, he rose and crossed the room in two strides, then knelt down before me and took my hands.

“Maggie, I lost my ship; I lost two of my men; I didn't find Franklin—in fact, I was looking in the wrong place. And through all the adversity and hardship, I had to face the daily truth that those men's lives were in my hands. I was their leader; they looked to me to save them. And there were times, Maggie, when I didn't know if I could manage it. We returned alive, yes, and with the appearance of triumph. But there is much you do not know, of savagery and darkness and violence, stories that we will keep to ourselves…stories we would like to forget. I returned empty, worn down, and that made me susceptible, I suppose, to the counsel of my detestable brother and the theatrics of my mother. When I saw you yesterday, looking just the way I had imagined you all these long months, I realized what a terrible deed I had done, to treat the woman I loved so shabbily.”

I stood up and pulled away from him. The urge to embrace him, to kiss him, was overwhelming, but I had to remember what he had done to me.

He climbed to his feet and tried to follow me, but I stopped him with an outstretched hand. “While you were gone,” I said bitterly, “I had my own trials to bear, not as deadly or dark as yours, but real enough to me. I gave up the spirit rapping for you and exiled myself from my family. My sister Leah no longer speaks to me, although I doubt you will care about that. I devoted myself to the tasks you set for me. I did everything you asked—everything—but still, I was so far beneath you that you could not even treat me as a lady when you came back to break my heart!”

“Maggie, I cannot bear it!” he cried, taking me into his arms in spite of my protest. “You are right. It was cruel, and I treated you just as my family wanted it done, as if you were no person of value. It was a mistake, a bad one, but I want to make it up to you. We cannot be together right now. My family is violently opposed, and I am destitute without their support. My savings are gone, spent on the expedition. I have nothing except what my parents give me. But when I have an independent income that can support us—then we shall be married. I swear it!”

He kissed my head and my brow and my lips, murmuring my name, while I stood shivering in his arms, fighting a battle with myself. In the end, it took all my strength to disengage, to hold him back with one hand and withdraw.

“I am not the girl you left, Elisha,” I said with a shaking voice. “And I am not so easily led as I once was. I love you still,” I admitted. “I will never love anyone else. But my trust is cracked beyond repair.”

“I will mend it, Maggie,” he promised, reaching for me again. “Piece by piece, I will put it back together again until we do not even remember how I broke it.”

I stepped backward, shaking my head. “That would be a very difficult task, Elisha.”

Apparently, his trials in the North had not robbed him of his impertinence, for he actually dared to grin at me. “Surely you realize, Maggie. Very difficult tasks are my specialty.”

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