A Blue Mountain Memory

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As Edith's companion, Cora sat by her side most hours of the day. She had abandoned her heavy maid dress for lighter, silkier, finer gowns. Cora no longer felt the weight of her braids against her back, but instead wore her hair like Edith's, fastened on top of her head like an English Victorian woman.

She wore white gloves, ribbons, old necklaces that Edith no longer cared for. Cora walked around the house in fine slippers, having forgotten all about her muddied, ragged boots from home. After months of sweets, fine cheeses, and rich meats, Cora's figure finally formed. She stood before her cracked mirror, admiring the curves of her body she had wished for as a girl. She viewed herself as a complete woman on the outside: young, beautiful, and well ornamented.

Although her charming southern drawl sustained, Cora found herself mimicking most of Edith's speech, striving to be just like the old woman she admired so much. The pair spent hours in the drawing room, reading, sewing, playing cards, and attempting to paint.

Edith told Cora stories of her childhood in New Hampshire. She described the autumn palette of the treetops sprinkled with deep red and vibrant orange leaves. She detailed the iridescent, white winters with cold nights and quiet mornings where the only sound was the wind moving softly over the snow, whistling gently into your frost-bitten ear.

Edith talked endlessly and fondly of her brother, Clarence. She recounted their nonsensical antics at the estate and how they harassed the gardener until he nearly resigned. Edith told Cora of her years beside Jeremiah. Stories of their travels fascinated Cora as she imagined herself in the Scottish Highlands and the Italian orchards so beautifully described by Edith.

Cora did not tell many stories of her own life. Despite Edith's confidence in the young girl, Cora still found herself surrounded by paranoia. Talk of her past was often brushed off immediately and followed by a hasty change in topic. She worried that she would accidentally confide in Edith, uncontrollably vomiting up the truth of her past transgressions. It only made her hate Elwood more than she previously had for still finding a way to force himself into her mind.

Cora nurtured her loathing towards the young man. She held onto it as a reminder never to allow a man to steal her heart again. When she found her thoughts wandering to his handsome gaze, Cora simply thought of all the trouble he caused her. Thanks to him, she could only half revel in her position, always worried that Edith would learn of her sin.

Despite Cora's outward appearance of joy and gaiety, surrounded by lavished goods and amusing company, part of her soul sat heavy inside of her beautifully glowing shell. It was only a small part, really; but it remained dark and continued weighing down her shoulders like a scrap of damp wool.

Sometimes, if she allowed it to, that small, rotten bit caused her stomach to turn unpleasantly. It had been nearly three years since he left, but Cora still found herself struggling to banish him forever. All the girl could do was turn her anguish into anger and focus on hating him rather than missing him.

Susan's wedding, however, provided ample distraction. The household seemed relieved. After years of their incessant flirtations, the pair finally came together. In May of 1891, Edith allowed them to host a small ceremony and dinner in the house. The only guests were the other servants, Edith, and Lee who sat beside the old woman.

Edith and Lee quickly became friends. She had persuaded Mr. Sandon to allow Lee time to visit the Carlyle home and the old man readily obliged; it seemed as though he did not want to challenge the Lady. Lee began visiting three times a week. Some days he only stayed for tea. Others he spent limping around the library, creating stacks of books that he hungered to read. Edith admired the young man's intelligence. When the trio sat in the drawing room, Cora often found herself to be a third wheel to Edith and Lee's debates. He was not afraid to challenge the old woman, and Cora knew that was something Edith reveled in.