The Might of Evil Dreams (A Novel of the Elemental Chronicles)

Seven - The Impossible Dream

Thomas

Although I should have, I did not seek out the comfort of my wife after what happened in Taunton. The very next day I rode to the village and ran into Arabella Burke, at the meat stand and attempting to sell her husband's pocket-watch for a hock. Much to her surprise, I intervened and bought it for her. I couldn't stand by and watch her sell her entire life away to feed her children.

"Wot 'appened t'you, Tom?" she said as we walked up the street, her hand in the crook of my elbow. "All bruised on your face, like."

"A protest, turned into a riot. At my father's textile factory." I wanted to heed Emmeline's words. They were what would help me maintain my dignity and authority. Yet what I needed now was to nurse it, and let it heal. "They do not think much of the ton, I'm afraid."

"You en't like 'em." I couldn't see her expression under her hat, but there was a sadness in her voice. "You knew my John, 'e said it 'imself, to you an' to me."

"Bella, if it had been John come home instead of me, I would have made sure it happened. He had a family. I did not." That was untrue now — I had a wife, and when the time came, children too — but those details were unimportant at the moment.

"Can't 'ardly blame you, Tom." She stopped, making me stop too. "John, 'e...'e had all these grand visions of fightin' for 'is country. Servin' the Crown, said 'e. I asked 'im, I did, why 'e would if 'e's got me an' th' children. Honour an' glory. Respect."

"There are better ways of gaining those without going to war." I did not think it helpful to mention that I joined at my father's request, to help me — in his words — grow up.

"'E didn't think so." Arabella wiped at her eyes, and I gave her my handkerchief. "An' now 'e's gone an' left me alone."

"Bella, you mustn't–" I began, but she didn't let me finish, throwing her arms around me and burying her face in my chest. Very lightly I rested my hands on her back. She was grieving and at the end of her tether, anyone could see it. And some wounds would never heal. But she was young, and did not deserve to be alone for the rest of her life while her children grew and left her.

Then, as she pulled back, she took my face very gently and kissed me, her lips soft and tasting of smoke. For a moment, I was unable to react. A woman had never done such a bold thing before. But her touch was so careful, avoiding the worst of my bruises. I wanted to let her. My hands even slid down her back and began to pull her closer. But when I thought of my own wife, and she a widow seeking attention from her husband's comrade, I could not let myself do it. I would not.

"No, Bella." I pulled away completely, not touching her. "I cannot do this."

She flushed, and bent to pick up the fallen hock to avoid my eyes. "'M sorry, Tom, I–"

"I want you to be happy, Bella." I grasped her arm and squeezed it gently, but dropped it right away. "I wish it for you, for John's sake. You are far too young to be spending the rest of your days by yourself. But we cannot have it. This. Between us."

A sadness, tinged with a faint longing, entered her eyes. "You found someone, then?"

I exhaled heavily. "Yes. But this does not mean you cannot come to visit, or bring the children. My wife would certainly like to meet you."

"Yes, I s'pose I could do that." She pressed the hock closer to her chest, as she would a baby. "Congratulations, Tom. Reckon two o' of you will get on well."

"Thank you, Bella. That means much to us."

"Hafta go," she said abruptly. "Johnny'll be returnin' from the field soon, I reckon."