Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lifting the Veil
After the first two-and-a-half weeks of Benjamin’s withdrawal, Clara wrote to her family announcing an extended stay.
Although she knew her parents wouldn’t care in the slightest, her sisters, assuredly, were concerned about how she was faring.
It was quite easy to lie and speak of drama performances, handsome suitors, and other gaieties, when in reality, she was constantly covered in sweat, whether it be Benjamin’s or her own, and her clothes reeked of bile from tending to his vomit spells.
With her hair precariously pinned in place, Clara stumbled outdoors for some much-needed fresh air, her exhaustion evident as she moved toward a fence and leaned miserably against the wooden supports.
“You all right there, Miss Boyd?”
Jerking in surprise, she glanced over her shoulder and balked, not having expected Mrs. Harriet Finch.
“Oh, don’t mind me,” the older woman said. “I heard about Benjamin’s state and felt the need to stop by. The whole town’s been talking about it.”
Mopping the sweat from her brow, Clara sighed and pushed herself away from the fence. “Captain Hoskin’s as well as any man in his situation can be,” she replied. “Reverend Hoskin gave him two canes, so we haven’t lost hope.”
“Oh?” Harriet strode forward. “How’s that going?”
“I don’t know,” Clara bitterly said. “The captain won’t try walking around me…I suppose he is embarrassed.”
“Men are funny like that,” Harriet agreed. “Their pride’s both a blessing and a curse.” The older woman’s stance became conspiratorial, and she lowered her voice. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”
Clara’s expression turned withering, but she nodded. This woman said whatever she pleased, so it would be pointless to try and divert.
Harriet leaned closer still. “Why are you doing this, Miss Boyd?” she whispered. “You’re devoting your young, lovely life to a man who is far too broken, or at least, for whatever it is you are assuredly seeking.”
Clara frowned. “And what is it I am seeking, Mrs. Finch?”
“Why, marriage, of course! You’re of a certain age, and so is Benjamin. But Miss Boyd, he is a cripple.” She shook her head. “It’s doubtful he can give you children in his present state.”
A burst of hot, untamed fury blazed within Clara’s breast, and she dug her nails so deeply into her palms that they bled.
She wasn’t sure why she did it. Perhaps it was the days upon weeks of physical and emotional torment, but with a feline-like growl, she wound back her arm and struck the older woman harshly across the face.
Harriet yelped, lifting a hand to her stinging cheek. “You…y-you hit me!” she cried.
“Ben is far more than his body, and children are not the be all, end all,” Clara seethed.
“I care not for my father’s legacy. His very bloodline can die with me, for all I care, but Ben?
He is good and kind and deserving of our respect.
He nearly died, Mrs. Finch. He became crippled to bring better lives to people like you and me, and yet here you stand degrading his efforts?
I’ll damn well hit you again, you…you fatheaded doggess! ”
Still clutching her cheek, Harriet’s expression grew snide. “And how long have you been in love with him, Miss Boyd?”
Clara’s composure faltered, and her chin stiffened with defiance. “I’m going inside now, Mrs. Finch. Don’t let me catch you on these premises again.”
Spinning about on her heel, she stormed toward the Hoskin residence, her heart pounding as she desperately tried to ignore the memory of Harriet’s skeptical, all-knowing eyes.
“Try it once more.”
Benjamin grimaced, his limbs trembling as he clutched his two canes. He was presently seated on his bed, panting while resting from his latest stumble around the room. “No more,” he pleaded. “Father, walking requires strength, a strength I barely possess.”
“Mere weeks ago, you couldn’t walk,” Josiah pointed out, “and yet here you are, granted the gift of sensation returning to your limbs. Who knows what more can happen, should you put your mind to it?”
Benjamin groaned, dropping his head forward in acquiescence.
With a slow, puffing intake of breath, he clenched his teeth before drawing up to his feet with considerable strain.
His knees wobbled violently from the effort, and leaning his weight against the canes, he dragged his right foot forward, and then his left, before sluggishly moving across the hardwood floor.
His injury gave him a crooked, lumbering gait, which made it all the more difficult to maintain his balance.
The chills of withdrawal still occasionally gripped him as he moved, and a sore, uncomfortable ache whipped through his back each time he took a staggering step.
“That’s it,” Josiah encouraged. “You’ve nearly got it!”
A feeble smile touched Benjamin’s mouth, but that was when his knees buckled. He collapsed to the floor with a great cry, his shins banging painfully against the hard wood while he quivered from overexertion. Hot tears burned his eyes, and snarling, he struck his fist against the floor.
Rushing to his fallen son, Josiah helped him to his knees and declared, “You did so well, son…so very, very well.”
Finally, the tears fell, and Benjamin sagged onto Josiah’s chest, weeping pitifully against his waistcoat. “No more,” he begged. “Please, Father, I can’t…”
“You can,” he soothed. “You are strong and capable, and even if this is as good as it ever gets, you need to keep your constitution fit.”
“But what if I never fully walk again?” Benjamin weakly asked.
Josiah gently brushed his fingers through his son’s hair.
“Then we will love you regardless,” he asserted.
“You are not broken, Benjamin. You are whole. I am only pushing you because I know you, and I know you will regret not having at least tried.” His expression softened.
“A dear friend of mine from college was in a similar state such as yours. Did you know that?” When Benjamin shook his head, he continued, “Gregory had very little function in his left arm and leg due to a carriage accident, but none of us ever considered him to be any less of a man. And if anyone truly did…well…clearly, they were a horse’s arse. ”
Benjamin balked, unaccustomed to hearing his father swear.
“The point is,” Josiah continued, “you will get beyond this, especially with me and Clara here to help.”
Benjamin winced. “Miss Boyd isn’t beholden to me,” he miserably replied. “She should return to her family.”
Josiah drew back in concern. “Why are you so despondent? Has something happened?”
Shaking his head, Benjamin avoided his father’s gaze. “No…I-I just feel she’d be far happier, were she not having to look after me like some wretched invalid. I am not her responsibility.”
Josiah frowned. “It’s not considered a hardship when you care for someone, Benjamin. She is here of her own free will.”
“But how much of that free will is tainted by guilt?” Benjamin prodded. “Despite her snobbery, she has a good heart, Father. She wouldn’t leave me here, and that’s precisely the problem. I need to convince her I am well again.”
“But why are you trying to drive her away?” Josiah pressed. “What if she wants to stay with us?”
“She doesn’t,” Benjamin snarled. “No one would ever condemn themselves to this life, no matter how much affection they claim to have.” He chuckled bleakly. “I cannot stand the man I’ve become. With the gradual clarity from my past fog, I am so ashamed of how I’ve treated you both.”
Passing a hand through his son’s hair, Josiah squeezed his shoulder. “Nobody thinks of you as that man anymore, Benjamin. That was the devil.”
Benjamin sniffed and ran his sleeve beneath his nose, exhaling in frustration. “I just want to be well again…to return to my duties.”
“I know,” Josiah allowed, “but regardless of what happens, you must be open to a helping hand. And if Miss Boyd’s the one reaching out for you, why not reach back? Perhaps she needs you as much as you need her.”
Benjamin lifted his head, perplexed. “What do you mean by that?”
Stooping to kiss his brow, Josiah murmured, “I’ll tend to dinner. Do you need help getting into bed?”
It wasn’t lost on Benjamin how his father purposely ignored his question. But rather than press the subject—surely, he was mistaken—he accepted Josiah’s aid, and clumsily rose with his canes.
The weeks that followed were filled with trials and tribulations, yet Clara withstood them with dogged resolve.
She remained by Benjamin’s side as little by little his foul temper abated until he could go a full day without begging for laudanum.
He could finally hold down a meal. He could smile and laugh, and by God, he could blush in that shy, charmingly embarrassed way he had whenever they first met all those months ago.
Benjamin seemed healthy. He seemed like Benjamin again.
With a song in her heart, Clara was thrilled when he invited her to join him in the garden that afternoon.
She’d heard he was able to walk with one cane now as opposed to two, but she was unsurprised when he did not rise to greet her.
Instead, he remained sitting by a rose bush reading.
He didn’t yet seem comfortable trying to walk around her.
She wasn’t sure why; perhaps he feared she would see a weakness in him…
something unsightly and unwelcome. Didn’t he realize that any progress, any moment with him, no matter how small or insignificant, instilled in her the greatest joy?
Clara had never felt that before, the sheer bliss of being around another human being, and delighting in their companionship without the need for words, touch, nor reason.
Not once had she possessed a true friend, which made her assume, nay, deny it could be anything but platonic affection within her breast; so much so that she ignored her pounding heart as she approached.