Ashes of a Madman

Chapter 11 - You Can't Burn Ashes

"Welcome home! Welcome," Charles Ingram greeted me. I embraced him heartily. He was beaming and smiling as he released me. "It is good to have you home again. The reports from the RGS were so disturbing."

"I didn't think they would be publicized until there was confirmation from Mombasa."

"They weren't. I took advantage of an old friend who... who... Who are you looking for?" He watched me stare over his shoulder at the crowded port.

"Philip, of course. He did come." My doubt was evident in my statement.

"Pity, no." Charles took my arm and began leading me to his carriage.

"No? Why ever not?"

"Rebecca, you have been absent for some while now," he began.

"Yes, all the more reason for his presence."

"Just as I reasoned. However, your brother has, in your absence, married and-."

"What! Indeed, in my absence."

"He does not need your permission to marry, my dear."

"I am quite aware of that. But he could have waited until I returned. He would have waited. Did she manipulate him?"

"Such suspicion!" If he only knew what created such a trait. "He was entirely besotted, I assure you."

"And yet this is still no reason to not welcome me home." Truly, after everything, I simply wanted to rest my head on Philip's shoulder and weep. I could feel protection from my brother. I had set my endurance to last until the end of my journey. Philip needed to be here now.

"I had hoped I could greet you just as properly," Charles said softly as he climbed into the carriage behind me. I turned and saw a tender smile on his face. I smiled in return and removed my gloves. I had not grown used to them yet. Charles furrowed his brows and looked me in the eyes. "Things are not good. You... you were not treated tenderly."

"Of course, in the jungle, that would be a difficult thing," I reminded.

"Even in the jungle it is possible, though God forbid one should ever have to."

"Yes, God forbid," I repeated fingering the bracelet beneath the sleeve of my dress.

"I find you much changed. Is this reversible?" Charles laughed awkwardly.

"You don't prefer my agreeable nature, Charles?" I teased.

"When you are agreeable, my dear, something is very wrong." He was hoping for a happy spar, but it was not in me. I only sighed silently and looked outside as the carriage began moving.

"Something is very wrong, Charles." I did not meet his steady gaze. His expression was so open and his nature so gentle. His eyes were clear and concerned.

"I know." He kissed my forehead. "This is a terrible time to say this, but considering the circumstances, I feel that I should be open with you. I feel very tenderly toward you, Rebecca. My affection has grown from respect. I want to be your doctor and your doormat, your comforter and your Confucius."

"I am sorry, Charles. There will be no good ending to this story you want to begin. You would be as Io running from Hera's rampage. I dare not inflict such a heart wound on a man as good as you. You need a proper English lady."

"You are precisely that." Fulfilling the role of comforter already.

"I am not anymore. I am the widow of the man that inflicted deep wounds. Do you dare to believe that you could tame my anger? What does Confucius say to me now?"