Page 44 of Fragile Wicked Things
"I know. First breakfast, then piano and a boring afternoon just waiting for tonight. Oh, I can't stand it."
"Piano, Catherine. And patience, though I don't know how you can practice any when I give in to your every whim. Spoiled is how I've raised you, much to the sorrow of your future husband."
"I'm staying with you forever."
"Oh no, Catherine, one day you will meet a man and fall in love. Don't scrunch up your nose like that. What I tell you is true. You will join him in matrimony, and he will whisk you away to a foreign land, far away from me."
"You look sad," I said, leaning towards him and placing my hand on his cheek. "I won't leave you. We'll live at Thornfield so that you won't ever be alone."
"Oh, what a pitying look you give me," Edward said.
"I know your secret."
Edward stared; his face aghast as his mouth dropped open. His eyes searched my face for meaning. "What do you know? What have you seen?" he said in rapid staccato.
"I make you happy," I told him.
His shoulders fell from relief.
"When you're by yourself, you're a grumpy old man. A monster," I added, "like in that bedtime story you read to me where the man became a monster because he was unloved as a child."
Edward quieted.
"I'm only teasing. You're not a monster. And I love you from the moment I wake in the morning until the moment my head rests on my pillow."
"And what of the time in between, from pillow to wakefulness?"
I shrugged my shoulders, unable to provide an answer.
He said, "Let's go to breakfast, and then I'll go to bed. I worked all last night and must replenish my energy for tonight."
* * *
My dress was shippedfrom the most fashionable atelier in Paris, made from the finest silks with an overlay of lace around the shoulders and bodice. Cream in color, it came with a matching cape in a yellow underlay to be worn in reverse. Even to this day, I remember the feel of it, the way the tissue crinkled when I took it out of its box, the way it cascaded down to my feet. The dress fit perfectly, but I remember being disappointed that I didn't get new shoes to go with it. I gave one final twirl in the mirror before running to hug Edward, skipping down the steps two at a time, but halfway down, Edward stopped me.
"Catherine, stop. You'll slip and fall. Then I'll have to bury you in that dress."
"Mr. Morbid," I said as I greeted him at the bottom of the stairwell, taking the arm he held out to me.
"Shall we go, Miss Cousins?"
Outside the front entrance, Giovanni sat perched high on the driver's bench of Edward's carriage which had been brought over from England several years before. Everyone in New Orleans recognized Edward's yellow and gold phaeton; it had four large wheels, was light in its construction and fast. In those days, it was a sporty way for a young man of means to travel.
Edward lifted me in, and we set off down the drive. Dusk had settled in over the landscape. A cold wind blew through my ringlets. March was frightfully cold, and Edward placed a blanket over me. He insisted he wasn't cold when I tried to share part with him. We turned onto the main road in front of Thornfield, heading towards New Orleans, passing trees, farms, a local church and more trees. We were going at such a slow pace, that I could have counted the leaves on each branch of every tree we passed. I pleaded to go faster.
"Just a little," Edward instructed Giovanni, who shook the reigns.
The flame from the side lanterns flickered, and although the road had emptied of travelers, we still had to be careful since visibility was limited to a few yards ahead.
Still, I pleaded, "Faster. Faster."
"The road ahead is clear, Giovanni," said Edward.
"How can you tell?" I asked him as I couldn't see a thing in the dark.
"Trust me. I would never put you in any danger."
Along the road towards New Orleans, we sped passed farm after farm, creeks, barns and farther along, fishing huts, but when we came upon a general store, Edward had Giovanni slow down.
