Page 35 of The Lovers
“Thank you,” he said and squeezed her hand.
TWENTY-TWO
A brace of candles illuminated the darkened room, casting eerie shadows onto the walls and the open casket. It was before noon, but the shutters were closed out of respect for the deceased, and an unnatural hush permeated the room. Elise stood next to Edward as he gazed upon his mother for the last time. Edward’s eyes drooped with fatigue and sadness. Elise hadn’t noticed a marked closeness between mother and son while Lady Matilda was still living, but Edward seemed to take her passing very badly. Elise supposed it was a mark in his favor that he cared about his mother, if not about his children, one of whom was standing silently by Edward’s side. Barbara was gazing off into the distance, as she often did, but the smile was gone from her face, replaced by an expression of complete incomprehension.
“Grandmother is gone?” Barbara whispered, bringing forth a stifled sob from her father.
Edward had readily agreed to allow Elise to prepare his mother for burial while he went out to order a casket. Normally, a servant would be sent, but Edward wished to choose the coffin in person to make sure it would be to Lady Matilda’s standards. This was no simple pine box. The coffin was made of mahogany and decorated with fanciful carvings, the very kind of thing Lady Matilda would have thought frivolous and unnecessary had she been in a position to comment. Still, Elise had to admit that she looked dignified and peaceful, with her hands folded on her chest and her eyes closed as if in sleep.
Laying out her own mother had been a labor of love, but preparing Lady Matilda for her final journey felt utterly different.Elise had to swallow down revulsion as she washed the old woman. Her skin was cold and wrinkled, and she smelled appalling after nearly two weeks of battling a fever. The stench of stale sweat and human waste assailed her, and Elise gagged with disgust. She gave up on her task and went to open the window, where she stood for several minutes, gulping in fresh air. The nausea finally passed, and Elise returned to Lady Matilda, eager to be done.
Lady Matilda’s limbs had stiffened during the night, and it took great effort to wrestle her first into undergarments and then into her favorite dark-blue velvet gown adorned with a dainty pattern picked in silver thread at the top of the bodice and hem. Had the dress come as one whole garment, Elise would never have been able to get Lady Matilda’s wooden arms into it. Lucy panted with effort as she pushed the old woman onto her side so that Elise could tie the laces at the back. That done, Elise carefully rolled on silk stockings and pushed Lady Matilda’s feet into matching shoes, then arranged her wispy hair into some semblance of order before dismissing Lucy and sinking into a nearby chair. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh of relief.
She was tired and glad to have the distasteful task over with. She hadn’t liked Lady Matilda when the woman was alive, and she liked her even less in death. Elise felt a pang of guilt, but what was the point of lying to herself? Lady Matilda had watched her every move and delighted in making Elise feel worthless and ungrateful. Lady Matilda’s death was a relief, truth be told, even if Elise didn’t plan to remain at Asher Hall for much longer.
Elise sat up with a start as the door handle slowly turned. A pale face peered into the room, then the woman entered and shut the door behind her. She had a mass of dark curls spilling from beneath a linen cap and a generous mouth, so like her brother’s. Molly looked hollow-eyed with grief as she approached Elise slowly. She was about to say something when she saw LadyMatilda and stopped for a moment, looking at the old woman with a mixture of pity and disgust.
“She were my grandmother, ye know,” she suddenly said. “If it’d been up to her, James and I would’ve been tossed out into the streets after our mother died, left to starve.”
“She was not a kind woman,” Elise agreed. It was considered uncharitable to speak ill of the dead, but she didn’t care. She owed nothing to Lady Matilda.
“No, she weren’t. My husband says that I should be grateful to have our little ’Arry resting with his great-grandmother, but ’e’d never known Matilda. I suppose I can derive some small sense of satisfaction knowing that she would have been livid if she knew.”
Elise wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she remained silent. Edward would be back soon, and she wondered how he’d react to finding his natural daughter in his mother’s room.
“I came here to thank ye,” Molly said, finally turning away from her grandmother. “I appreciate what ye’re trying to do for my ’Arry more than ye’ll ever know. If there’s anything ye ever need, know that ye can turn to me.”
“Thank you,” Elise said.
“I will bring ’Arry tonight, once the old bag is in her coffin.”
“Yes.”
Molly turned to leave but thought better of it and approached Elise. She reached out and took Elise’s hand in hers, squeezing it lightly as their eyes met. “Don’t hate him,” she suddenly said.
“Who, Edward?”
“No, James. He’s a good man, Elise, but he feels a misguided sense of obligation to our father. James aspires to see the best in people, and his naïveté often leads to heartache.”
“I don’t hate him, Molly. Not anymore.”
Molly nodded and slipped from the room, just as two men came up the stairs with the casket. They carefully moved the corpse to the coffin before taking it downstairs, where it would remain until the funeral. Lady Matilda was to be laid out in state on the dining room table, ready to receive final respects from the family and staff.
Elise tidied up the room, adjusted the counterpane, and closed the chest at the foot of the bed. It would be up to Edward to decide what to do with his mother’s belongings and jewels. She was done here. Instead of going downstairs, Elise went to her own room. She felt tired and sad, not only for Molly, who was clearly mad with grief at losing her baby, but for James as well. Elise had never given much thought to what it must feel like to be a bastard, but now she began to understand. Molly was angry and bitter, but James seemed confused and unduly grateful to a father who treated him no better than a servant and used him for his own ends.
Elise would have gladly remained in her room, but an angry knock on the door roused her out of her reverie.
“Come downstairs,” Edward demanded. “They’re about to close the casket, and I would have you pay your respects to Mother.”
“Of course.”
Elise considered her duty to Lady Matilda discharged, but she obediently followed Edward to the dining room, not wishing to distress him further. She tensed as Edward reached out to touch his mother’s hand in farewell before the carpenter nailed the coffin shut. He had no earthly reason to touch her skirts, but Elise was asnervous as a cat in an alley full of dogs. Baby Harry rested next to Lady Matilda’s right thigh, the folds of the voluminous skirts hiding him from view. It felt wrong and disrespectful to stuff the child beneath his great-grandmother’s skirts, but there was no other place where he could lie unnoticed.
Elise felt James’s eyes on her as she stared at her folded hands, fearful of giving her nervousness away. He’d come in with the carpenter, there to help convey the casket to the cart that would deliver it to the church for the funeral. Elise looked up and met James’s gaze. She saw a glimmer of gratitude in its depth and nearly smiled, catching herself just in time. James had come with Molly the night before to offer silent support as she delivered the remains of her baby. Elise hadn’t seen Harry’s face since he was wrapped in a shroud, but the corpse had been tiny, hardly bigger than that of a cat. Molly shook with sobs as she placed her son inside the coffin, then ran from the room, too distraught to speak. Elise adjusted the fabric to cover the child and walked away, leaving James to remain with the coffin overnight, per Lord Asher’s request. He didn’t want his mother to be all alone on her final night above ground.
Edward nodded to the carpenter, who pulled several nails from his pocket before lifting the lid onto the casket with James’s help. Edward rested his hand on Elise’s shoulder as the man hammered the nails into the lid. The cart was already outside, ready to take Lady Matilda on her final journey.
Elise, Barbara, and James followed Edward from the room, ready to proceed to the church. All the servants were gathered outside and would follow the cart at a respectable distance. Edward hardly noticed when Molly and her husband joined the procession, bringing up the rear. Elise supposed that if he did, he might think that Molly felt some grief at losing the grandmother who nevercared for her, but Molly needed to see her boy on his final journey, regardless of what her father thought.
