The Edge

I was seated on the floor beside the dresser when there was a soft knock on the door. I looked up. Michael stood in the doorway, in his shirt from the night before, roughly tucked into his trousers. He came towards me and knelt before me. He reached for me but I cowered away and he dropped his hands. Then he raised them in a gesture of utter resignation and apology.

“My love. My dearest. I am....I am so...I don't.....” He broke up and stopped talking, stared at me penitently. I remained mute. I could do nothing more indeed, I felt numb and chilled to the bone. Michael began again, his voice more fervent than before.

“My dearest, I have no right to ask it but I beg you to forgive me. Last night, I have no idea of what came over me. I can only beg your forgiveness and promise that it will never happen again, never! On our son's life, I swear it! And I shall not share your bed again until you bid me back! I shall take up a few belongings and sleep in the other room until you give me leave to return! Does this meet with your approval?”

I nodded. It was all I could do but I managed it. He smiled tightly, reached for my hand and kissed it. I let him. I just didn't want him to touch me. He stood up again, walked to the door.

“I will be away until dinner time. Will you do some more work on the dolls house today? Or shall you rest?”

He was waiting for an answer. I swallowed several times and managed to state that yes, I should prefer to be busy. This seemed to reassure him. He wished me a good day and hurried out. I heard him ringing for his valet then some bustle then silence.

The clocks struck six then seven. I remained where I was, too numb to care about moving. At seven thirty I heard the door to the bedroom open. There was a moments silence then a timid knock on my dressing room door. My dumb throat took another moment to ask those without to enter.

Anna came in looking almost worried. When she saw me on the floor her eyes went wide. She went to me, put her arms around me and half lifted, half pulled me up onto the stool. Kneeling in front of me she burst in to a quick whispered exclamation.

“Master said as he was leaving that you might feel unwell. Oh my lady, should I go for the doctor? Do you need anything? Did you fall or has your bleeding started again? Oh my lady, your hands are like ice!”

I managed to ask for hot water, a bath. Anna nodded and went out of the room. When she returned it was with Mrs Levin. As Anna prepared the bath, Mrs Levin rubbed at my hands to warm them and asked in a low tone if I needed a doctor. I was starting to recover a little but my throat was still dry. Mrs Levin looked me over and told Anna to fetch a posset. The girl backed out of the room and Mrs Levin herself assisted me to undress and get into my bath. As I stepped into the tub I heard her stifled gasp. I looked down at myself. My upper arms were banded at the top by vicious yellow and purple bruises, with the same marks on my thighs. There were scratches on my breasts and more bruises. They were clearly those made by a man's hand. There was no hiding my shameful reason for indisposition that morning.

My eyes finally met Mrs Levin's. She looked back at me with an expression of both pity and some other carefully controlled emotion. I couldn't puzzle it out. She took up the sponge and soaped it, began to rub the very hot water and suds over my frame. She scrubbed my back and shoulders, my neck and then, handing the sponge to me so I could do my legs, she unplaited my hair and tipped a fresh jug of hot water over my hair. As she washed my hair I soaped my body and then my groin, scrubbing hard at those parts that were the most bruised or violated. Washing out the last of the soap from my hair, Mrs Levin reached down and firmly took the sponge away from me.

“You are clean now my lady.” She said quietly and helped me from the tub. She wrapped me in warmed towels, rubbed me dry, wrapped my wet hair in another towel. Anna came back in. Handing me the steaming posset, Mrs Levin began to rub my hair dry and then to brush and plait it. She ordered Anna to find a warm dress, saying that I was well but had caught a slight chill and needed to wrap up. While Anna turned her attention to the wardrobe, Mrs Levin began to brush out my hair and then to plait it. She wound it up on my head and pinned it neatly into place.

She and Anna helped me to dress in a warm woollen dress in green with a cream embroidery around the skirt and bodice. The neckline of the dress was quite high and would keep covered any bruises. Anna knelt and put on soft wool stockings then my shoes. She then took the empty glass and left the room.

Mrs Levin escorted me out into the hall. She nodded to the room behind us and said

“I will have the bed clothes changed right away my lady. And a new fire laid up so that you will be warm. If I might, I would advise you to carry on as much as possible in your normal way. I think Mr Bruce wants to consult you on some more sketches, I said you would attend as soon as you were dressed.”

I nodded and began to thank her but she held up and hand and stopped me. Then quickly she reached and took my hand and raised it to her lips. Our eyes met then she stepped away from me and went off down the passage. I finally recognised the emotion that I had seen in here eyes. It was a suppressed yet tigerish fury.

I went up to the craft room directly. Stephen Bruce was busy over arranging some sketches for me to see. He turned round, a smile ready on his lips which died as he looked on me. He looked more than shocked, he looked appalled. Then he seemed to grasp that he was losing control of himself and swiftly covered by walking towards me and guiding me to his drawings. He pointed out various new designs he had for furnishings, the dining room in particular he thought would do well with more decoration, paintings and such. I couldn't attend to him properly, my mind was already wandering and looking at the drawing of the dining room I realised that tonight I would have to sit with my husband, his father and Stephen Bruce during dinner, pretending nothing had happened. All the while feeling sickened by my husbands presence.

Dimly I became aware that Mr Bruce had stopped talking. I looked up to see him watching me, quiet and observant as ever. He said quietly “I think perhaps we should take a walk. I was wondering if you would look over the outsides of the chapel with me and decide how to do the new windows. Go below and get your warmest cloak, there is a chill wind today but the rain has stopped for now.”

I went. I got my cloak, I met him in the hall and we went out together. He walked fast with me beside him and he stayed silent. I matched his steps and my thoughts whirled with the wild wind that had sprung up over the mountains.

We reached the other side of the chapel. At this hour and in this weather, there was no one in the garden and we couldn't be seen from the house. Stephen turned and faced me, his face finally set in lines of suppressed anger and agitation.

“In Gods name, tell me what has happened to you? Your face, sweet God, your face! Bruised about the eye and the mouth! What has happened? Your husband wouldn't look me in the eye this morning, is this the reason? In the name of Heaven, I must know! You must tell me! I cant see you and be near you and not know what horror has caused you to look so ill!”

His words flew out like bullets from a gun, whipping the air around me. I started wind eyes at him, both of us like animals facing each other down and then the barrier between me and the world broke down and my voice, my voice such as I had never heard it suddenly poured out everything. Michael's strange behaviour, his abuse of me, the nights shame and distress, the feeling that I was not clean, that I would never be clean, the sickness in my stomach that I felt every time I thought of him or having to be near him. Above all the shame and the ignorance of why he had suddenly lost his head and treated me so vilely.

It was as if Stephen Bruce were the arc angel, listening to all my thoughts and fears, my passion gushed out of me and I was panting, out of breath. He reached forward and grasped my hand in his then pulled me along with him.

We ran to the gates and then out of the park and up a small path towards the mountain top, away from the house and away from people, out into the wind which was wild and loud and which propelled us further along as we ran, as we almost galloped towards one of the peaks. We reached the side of the mountain then he raced with me along an outcrop until suddenly there was open space and a drop right in front of us and nothing but the wind, the wind, the wild wonderful wind and I felt his lips against my ear saying “scream! Scream into the wind! Let it bare your pain away!” and I screamed.

I screamed and screamed, all my pain, my anger, my fear, my shame. All of it went off into the wind and was carried away from me, like breath, like life, like a wave that had such weight to it that I almost felt as if I were flying or falling, as if there were no ground beneath me or sky above, just open space and wind and sound.

Then it was gone. All of it, gone. Born away. And like a crumpled dress, I sank to the floor but Stephen Bruce's arms supported me. He took me away from the edge and around to a small cove in the mountainside, protected from the wind and the rain which had begun to come down in torrents.

He set me down on a rock, took off his own coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. Then he put his arm around me, pressing me to him. I leaned against him and shut my eyes, feeling the exhaustion pull me down into sleep, blessed sleep that held no terror or pain, just oblivion.

I woke and didn't know where I was or what the time might be. Then I remembered. Stephen was still with me, my head pillowed against his chest and he was leaning against the wall watching me. As I stirred and moved my stiff limbs he rubbed my cold hands, my arms to warm them. I breathed in the smell of him, wind and rain and wood. I looked at him, his dark hair swept back. I didn't look away. And Stephen Bruce lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me.

It was long, that kiss, and sweet. He kissed me tenderly but deeply, feeling for my tongue with his, it tasted of mint and sweet grass. It tasted pure. His hands were around e, not restraining me or holding me too tight but warm and real and good. I kissed him back. I knew myself a fool and a sinner but I pressed myself against him and I raised my hand and touched his face. I looked deep into his eyes and saw nothing but me reflected. He was so warm, so warm and I felt so safe. I felt suddenly so happy. It was as if God had heard my prayers of the night and sent me a guardian to keep me safe from all harm. There in the little cave, where no one would ever think to look for me, there was peace and happiness and warmth and love, yes, love. Honest and real and true.

He ended the kiss and standing, helped me to rise. Without speaking he lead me out of the cave where the two happiest hours of my life had been spent and we walked down the mountain together. He kept his arm about me until we reached the gates of the park. Then he simply took my hand and swung it lightly as we made our way through the garden, around the side of the chapel. Stopping there he took me in his arms and kissed me again, more lightly but with promise in his touch. He cupped my face in his two hands and looked into my eyes again.

“Go in by the chapel. Tell them you were deep in prayer, they wont question that. I will enter from the garden in a while. You go up to your room and change your soaking clothes. Stay there, by the fire where it is warm and soft and quiet. Tell them you will dine in your room. I will work until then and when it is night time, I will come to you. If you wish it? Do you wish for me to come to you?” His voice was suddenly urgent, full of meaning. I kissed him back, a kiss that said everything I was thinking and more.

Then we parted. I went through the chapel and into the house. I called for Anna to bring me some hot spiced wine, I would change and then stay in my chamber. No, I wanted no company, I was not ill, I simply wished for quiet. Tell my husband that I would dine in my room and bring me something at that hour. I want peace and privacy. Then I went into my room.

I undressed from my sopping wet clothes. I changed my petticoat. I got into a clean fresh gown, of cream cotton bordered with lace, then I put on my bed robe and little soft white slippers. I sat before the fire, sipped at my wine, watched the flames and waited for the night.