"Life is a journey,
Frannie darling," Feagan had once told me. "Choose well those with
whom you travel."
As always, I've followed Feagan's counsel.
"Were you really not frightened?"
"Sometimes I was terrified, but that was the whole point."
"You wanted to be afraid?" She couldn't imagine deliberately putting herself in a position of fear.
"I wanted to test my courage, my determination. It was a journey of discovery, but it was more about what I discovered within myself. What I discovered about the world was simply a bonus."
"And what did you discover about yourself, I mean?"
"That I'm not nearly as weak as I thought, nor nearly as strong as I'd hoped.
...at the end she'd be nothing more than a memory, if that.
"You look beautiful."
"Anyone can appear beautiful in the shadows."
"Would you rather leave?"
"Absolutely not."
"I may be bloodied, but I can still carry a sword."
Fascinating. He'd never known a woman who didn't take up residence in front of a looking glass.
"Why have you an aversion to gazing in the mirror?"
"Because within a mirror I can't avoid looking into my own eyes. The life I've lived is reflected in my eyes and there are parts of it that I wish to forget."
"Yet, it has made you the fascinating woman you are."
"When I was much younger and lived in Claybourne's residence, Luke's grandfather arranged an afternoon tea in the garden with a few of the girls my age. They arrived in coaches and carriages and they were so beautiful. Their laughter was soft and sweet, so very different from the harsh laughter in the rookeries. I thought, "Oh my goodness, I'm going to be like them.
"They hurt me that day without touching me. They taught me that words can slice like a knife. They wanted to know about life in the rookeries, and I made the mistake of telling them that I slept with Luke and Jack and Jim. And sometimes at night, I still slept with Luke. They made it into something ugly. It was really rather innocent. To lie in the circle of someone's arms while you sleep can be very, very nice. But I never slept with them again. Never told them why. Those girls took that from me. And I let them."
"It's difficult when you love someone whom you know on some level is wicked."
Expectations were never in short supply.
Do you want to know?" he asked.
"I suppose it depends on the answer."
"Which answer would you prefer?"
"I'm not really sure. Both leave a lot to be desired."
"I want to see you again," Greystone said quietly.
"I'm not certain that's wise. We are of different worlds, Your Grace. In yours, I am but one night and in mine you are destined to be merely a memory."
"In my world travels, I saw a good many varieties of butterflies. They're incredibly delicate creatures, but they shouldn't be underestimated. Observing them as I did, I learned a valuable lesson. Sometimes if you surround a butterfly too closely, it
couldn't fly if it wanted to."
He wanted to change her past, but even as he thought it, he realized it was her very past that had shaped her into a woman who fascinated him.
And what about you, Frannie? he wanted to ask. Who will save you?
But life was precarious and opportunities were never guaranteed.
It was easier to break promises when they weren't voiced.
"Will it fade? The tattoo?"
"No."
"Why would you want it on your shoulder like that, something that will forever be there?"
"As I recall, I was quite drunk at the time and thought it a good idea."
"Why a dragon?"
"Symbolic. We all face dragons in one way or another, at one time or another."
"So it's not a good thing."
"Depends whether or not we slay them. It all made perfect sense when I was drunk."
"Did you slay yours?"
"I thought so at the time."
"I am the bookkeeper, after all, and as a rule the numbers don't behave too badly."
"It seems melancholy weather."
"I prefer to think of it more as weather designed for reflection."
"You are the eternal optimist."
Fewer candles flickered. Fewer words were spoken. Fewer breaths were taken.
In his world, there was right and wrong, good and evil. Hers contained no absolutes. Hers
was a world of grays. Hers was what his was truly becoming. The irony didn't escape him. At night, nothing was clear. Lines blurred. Shadows removed definitions.
Her dreams led her to the darkest parts of London where he couldn't follow and keep her safe. His dreams had ceased to exist long ago.
...fortune was a fickle mistress.
Henry nodded. "May I ask you a question?"
"Certainly, Your Grace."
He pointed at Jack. "Is he the Artful Dodger?"
Mr. Dickens bent low. "I write fiction, Your Grace. The characters in my books do not really exist, but if they did," he winked, "I do believe he would be the Artful Dodger."
"I knew it!"
"And do you see that gentleman over there?"
"Lord Claybourne?"
"Dickens nodded. "He would be Oliver."
"And what about Miss Frannie?"
"She is every sweet girl who appears in the story."
Once, when our paths crossed, he told me that the kindest thing I'd ever done was to not marry him. Perhaps because he was passionately in love with a woman who possessed the wisdom to adore him as he deserved.
When Sterling's eyesight did finally fail him completely, we were up in years, content to sit in our garden and reflect on what a wondrous and exciting life we;d led. He did not see my hair fade into silver. For him it was always a vibrant red. I watched him age gracefully and with dignity. He leaned on me much more than he did his walking stick, which was how it should be, because when I needed him most, he was always there for me. Each day I thought I could love him no more than I already did and the following morning I was always proven wrong, for I awoke loving him just a little bit more."
"I knew what I possessed was exactly what I wanted, that I desired no more than what I had."
He didn't know how one's flesh prickled when fear took hold. He didn't understand what it was like to gaze into the future and know that it would be nothing more than a dark and lonely place.
I daresay with age comes the inclination not to care much what others think.
As always, I've followed Feagan's counsel.
"Were you really not frightened?"
"Sometimes I was terrified, but that was the whole point."
"You wanted to be afraid?" She couldn't imagine deliberately putting herself in a position of fear.
"I wanted to test my courage, my determination. It was a journey of discovery, but it was more about what I discovered within myself. What I discovered about the world was simply a bonus."
"And what did you discover about yourself, I mean?"
"That I'm not nearly as weak as I thought, nor nearly as strong as I'd hoped.
...at the end she'd be nothing more than a memory, if that.
"You look beautiful."
"Anyone can appear beautiful in the shadows."
"Would you rather leave?"
"Absolutely not."
"I may be bloodied, but I can still carry a sword."
Fascinating. He'd never known a woman who didn't take up residence in front of a looking glass.
"Why have you an aversion to gazing in the mirror?"
"Because within a mirror I can't avoid looking into my own eyes. The life I've lived is reflected in my eyes and there are parts of it that I wish to forget."
"Yet, it has made you the fascinating woman you are."
"When I was much younger and lived in Claybourne's residence, Luke's grandfather arranged an afternoon tea in the garden with a few of the girls my age. They arrived in coaches and carriages and they were so beautiful. Their laughter was soft and sweet, so very different from the harsh laughter in the rookeries. I thought, "Oh my goodness, I'm going to be like them.
"They hurt me that day without touching me. They taught me that words can slice like a knife. They wanted to know about life in the rookeries, and I made the mistake of telling them that I slept with Luke and Jack and Jim. And sometimes at night, I still slept with Luke. They made it into something ugly. It was really rather innocent. To lie in the circle of someone's arms while you sleep can be very, very nice. But I never slept with them again. Never told them why. Those girls took that from me. And I let them."
"It's difficult when you love someone whom you know on some level is wicked."
Expectations were never in short supply.
Do you want to know?" he asked.
"I suppose it depends on the answer."
"Which answer would you prefer?"
"I'm not really sure. Both leave a lot to be desired."
"I want to see you again," Greystone said quietly.
"I'm not certain that's wise. We are of different worlds, Your Grace. In yours, I am but one night and in mine you are destined to be merely a memory."
"In my world travels, I saw a good many varieties of butterflies. They're incredibly delicate creatures, but they shouldn't be underestimated. Observing them as I did, I learned a valuable lesson. Sometimes if you surround a butterfly too closely, it
couldn't fly if it wanted to."
He wanted to change her past, but even as he thought it, he realized it was her very past that had shaped her into a woman who fascinated him.
And what about you, Frannie? he wanted to ask. Who will save you?
But life was precarious and opportunities were never guaranteed.
It was easier to break promises when they weren't voiced.
"Will it fade? The tattoo?"
"No."
"Why would you want it on your shoulder like that, something that will forever be there?"
"As I recall, I was quite drunk at the time and thought it a good idea."
"Why a dragon?"
"Symbolic. We all face dragons in one way or another, at one time or another."
"So it's not a good thing."
"Depends whether or not we slay them. It all made perfect sense when I was drunk."
"Did you slay yours?"
"I thought so at the time."
"I am the bookkeeper, after all, and as a rule the numbers don't behave too badly."
"It seems melancholy weather."
"I prefer to think of it more as weather designed for reflection."
"You are the eternal optimist."
Fewer candles flickered. Fewer words were spoken. Fewer breaths were taken.
In his world, there was right and wrong, good and evil. Hers contained no absolutes. Hers
was a world of grays. Hers was what his was truly becoming. The irony didn't escape him. At night, nothing was clear. Lines blurred. Shadows removed definitions.
Her dreams led her to the darkest parts of London where he couldn't follow and keep her safe. His dreams had ceased to exist long ago.
...fortune was a fickle mistress.
Henry nodded. "May I ask you a question?"
"Certainly, Your Grace."
He pointed at Jack. "Is he the Artful Dodger?"
Mr. Dickens bent low. "I write fiction, Your Grace. The characters in my books do not really exist, but if they did," he winked, "I do believe he would be the Artful Dodger."
"I knew it!"
"And do you see that gentleman over there?"
"Lord Claybourne?"
"Dickens nodded. "He would be Oliver."
"And what about Miss Frannie?"
"She is every sweet girl who appears in the story."
Once, when our paths crossed, he told me that the kindest thing I'd ever done was to not marry him. Perhaps because he was passionately in love with a woman who possessed the wisdom to adore him as he deserved.
When Sterling's eyesight did finally fail him completely, we were up in years, content to sit in our garden and reflect on what a wondrous and exciting life we;d led. He did not see my hair fade into silver. For him it was always a vibrant red. I watched him age gracefully and with dignity. He leaned on me much more than he did his walking stick, which was how it should be, because when I needed him most, he was always there for me. Each day I thought I could love him no more than I already did and the following morning I was always proven wrong, for I awoke loving him just a little bit more."
"I knew what I possessed was exactly what I wanted, that I desired no more than what I had."
He didn't know how one's flesh prickled when fear took hold. He didn't understand what it was like to gaze into the future and know that it would be nothing more than a dark and lonely place.
I daresay with age comes the inclination not to care much what others think.
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