Chapter 20 Hide and Seek
Chapter Twenty
Hide and Seek
The carriage ride was wholly abysmal. Although Clara prided in being able to talk to absolutely anyone, she couldn’t bring herself to listen, engage, nor flirt as John prattled on about the dull trappings of his life.
He claimed brilliance since boyhood. Did all men have to be so heinously full of themselves?
By the time she’d started listening again, he was talking about fowl in spirited distaste.
Clara stifled a groan. Oh, what a fool she’d been!
She only came because she’d wanted to punish Benjamin for his cruelty, as if he even cared whether or not she was interested in John!
And for whatever harsh reason, Harriet was choosing to read rather than engage, so she wasn’t even granted the reprieve of a female buffer.
Scowling, Clara folded her arms. She needed to shut him up. She needed to hear something, anything other than what a “wonder” John was, and how he’d been a “godsend” to the medical field.
“That prank you mentioned earlier,” she spoke, “what was it?”
John frowned at the interruption. “You really want to know?”
“Why, yes!” Clara said. “Although many feign interest, I assure you I am a woman who only speaks whenever invested.”
John’s brow furrowed. “Am I to take your prior silence as a bad sign?” When she smirked, he laughed.
“You’re quite right, my apologies. Of course, you are interested!
” He cleared his throat, his face taking on the dramatic expression she’d grown to loathe.
“I was just starting at Yale,” he began.
“The other boys were nice enough, even Hoskin, but I was somewhat of a recluse and preferred the company of books. That’s why I decided to host a Latin club. ”
Clara arched a brow. “Wouldn’t the obvious alternative be a book club?”
“I suppose, but I loved Latin and enjoyed speaking and reading it at any given opportunity,” John said. “I tried getting my entire class involved and put up a few broadsides to earn their interest.”
“Did you get it?”
John snorted. “Ah, yes. I most certainly did receive attention. Hoskin replaced my broadsides with counterfeits. Little did I know, he’d completely changed the verbiage.
The irksome prat encouraged everyone attending to bring a chicken.
I am horribly allergic, so by the end of it all, I was sneezing to high heaven since I was dealing with ten fowls! ”
Clara clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh! Oh, goodness,” she breathed, trying to sound scandalized. “Was Captain Hoskin disciplined?”
“No,” John grumbled. “It was done off school grounds, and I was far too humiliated to take my shame public, or rather, more public. So he never received comeuppance.” Slowly, his face melded into smug satisfaction.
“Then again, our Lord and Savior saw to it that Hoskin was punished. Just look at the man!”
Clara’s sneer wiped from her face. “You believe God is punishing Benjamin for a silly little trick? And one that didn’t even harm you?”
John drew up, affronted. “It did harm me! I was ill for days!”
Ill in the head, perhaps, she thought. “Nevertheless, it’s rather harsh to wish lameness upon a man because of one small, inconsequential prank.”
John’s upper lip curled. “With all due respect, Miss Boyd, you don’t know Hoskin as I do. His intentions were malicious.”
“I’m beginning to see why,” she muttered.
“What was that?”
“I’m afraid I might cry,” she amended. “Oh goodness, Doctor, your plight has moved me in ways I cannot express!”
Softening, John patted her hand. “There now, what’s done is done. I am quite all right, I promise. And once you’ve given me the honor of a dance, I shall be all the hale and heartier!”
“And thank heaven for it!” Clara exclaimed. As John squeezed her hand, she lost her smile and bitterly locked eyes with Harriet’s amused gaze.
Benjamin remained upon the thin divide between wakefulness and sleep. All around him, sounds wobbled and reverberated akin to a coin descending a well, yet none were enough to rouse him.
“Moony-boy, you awake?”
Shifting beneath his quilt, Benjamin hummed, comfortably swaddled as if relaxing in a warm bath.
“Moony? Ben?! C’mon, please… For Chrissake, open your eyes!”
The sensation of being shaken, and quite vigorously, brought Benjamin into a state of consciousness. Bleary-eyed, his gaze settled upon a concerned face. “Amos?” he slurred. “When’d you get in?”
Amos blinked in shock. “Oi, have you been drinkin’?”
“Sleeping, if you must know,” Benjamin grumbled. A painful thrum-thrum-thrum formed around his temples in direct contrast to the warm, pleasant euphoria settling within his bones. “Could you lower your voice, please? You’re so loud…”
“By St. George,” Amos growled. “What’ve you been doin’, uh?
” His gaze settled upon the laudanum by his bedside.
“This?” he demanded. “Is that what you’ve been takin’?
” Furious, he snatched the bottle. “How much did’ja have?
” When Benjamin groaned, Amos grew more persistent.
“I mean it, arsehole. How much did’ja take? ”
“I dunno,” he mumbled. “Maybe three drops? It’s what was advised.”
Amos gritted his teeth. “Laudanum’s for men in pain.”
I am, Benjamin thought, his anger instantly sobering him. This is who I am now, so I need it. I need this!
But rather than reveal such desperation, he replied, “As I’ve said, this is what the doctor prescribed. If he believes it’ll help, then I am willing to see it through.”
Amos scoffed. “Oi, at what cost? I’ve seen how men react to this poison! You really wanna open yourself up to that world o’ hurt?”
Benjamin sniffed, his nose oddly blocked up. “I feel fine,” he promised. “I’m confident I’ll only need a few doses. That, at the very least, should be enough to make me better.”
Amos grimaced. “Well, only if you’re sure…”
“Positive.” Benjamin forced a smile.
And as the cabinetmaker forced one of his own, Benjamin realized this was the first time he’d ever truly lied to his friend. A sensation akin to a writhing, restless snake coiled within his stomach, and eager to deflect, he asked, “Why have you come? Did you receive word from camp?”
Amos squinted. “Moony, you’ve only been home one day… I may be an arsehole, but I wasn’t gonna skip town with you still settlin’ in.”
“What?” Blinking in shock, he groaned before sinking more fully into his pillow. “Blood and thunder, this truly is imprisonment.”
Sighing, Amos lowered onto the bed and removed his hat. “If it makes y’feel any better, Bishop feels badly ’bout this whole thing.”
Benjamin snorted. “Oh, yes. He feels badly, but not enough to keep me in the operation. I feel so much better.”
Amos huffed. “Your sarcasm’s noted and not appreciated. A bit o’ faith would do ya good.”
“Faith?” Benjamin echoed, trying not to raise his voice.
“I am trapped here in my bed, unable to help with the most important task of my life, and yet you have the gall to scold me on my lack of faith? Amos, I’m positively unmanned.
Where Father would’ve once denied the assistance of a female caretaker, he agrees because nothing physically untoward can happen between Clara and myself.
It’s humiliating, degrading, so answer me this: What more harm can befall me?
What can this laudanum do that God has not?
Are you truly going to deny me my right to aid in this cause? My final obligation to Daniel?”
Amos’s face softened. “But why d’ya need to do more, uh? You’ve already done your part, and it’s been a mighty good one.”
“This is for the people I love,” Benjamin choked. “I am merely a flame, helpless but to burn until I fulfill my purpose. And until this war is through, it hasn’t been fulfilled.” His gaze grew wet. “Please, let me help. Lie to Bishop, if you must. I need to be involved!”
Amos sighed, his eyes shining with pity. “Look, Moony, no matter what we do, I jus’ don’t think it’ll ever be good enough for ya. Your obsession’s makin’ y’reckless. We can’t rush any o’ this.”
Benjamin swallowed. “Just keep me in the loop,” he pleaded. “Don’t make any major decisions without me. That’s all I ask.”
Gently squeezing Benjamin’s shoulder, Amos agreed, “Consider it done.”
The public assembly was held at the Green Turtle Tavern, a moderately sized establishment with low-hanging lanterns, stuffy portraits of the owners, and a large wooden floor that was perfect for festivity.
Despite Clara’s love of dancing, she grew disdainful once she entered the room, arm in arm with John as he preened beneath everyone’s gaze. Just like in the carriage, Harriet was of absolutely no help. She was off gossiping rather than serving as a chaperone.
Oblivious to Clara’s torment, John whispered, “Just look at this crowd. They can’t take their eyes off us! They must not be accustomed to seeing such a handsome couple.”
Couple?
Repulsed, Clara painted on her typical smirk, the faux coyness lightening her expression. This was what she deserved, was it not? No decent man would ever want her…
“Come now, don’t be so modest,” she cooed, playing up to his vanity. “You know this venue, so they must be staring at you. I trust they’re looking for someone to lead by example.”
“Then allow us both to lead,” John coaxed. “Despite the stringed music, no one has yet ventured onto the dance floor. Shall we show them a thing or two?”
Clara stiffened at his sudden nearness but lifted her chin to draw toward his inappropriately close mouth. “Of course, Doctor,” she purred. “I am at your disposal.”
And she did, in fact, feel disposable. Despite John’s constant flattery, he never once made her feel wanted nor desirable, not in the way Benjamin had each time he’d kissed her with that reverent, painful shyness…
And yet, that hadn’t been Benjamin Hoskin at all.
No, that was Benjamin pretending to be Philip Ashby, a man who at this point was nothing more than a distant dream.