Thomas

Although I should have, I did not seek out the comfort of my wife after what happened in Taunton. The very next day I rode to the village and ran into Arabella Burke, at the meat stand and attempting to sell her husband's pocket-watch for a hock. Much to her surprise, I intervened and bought it for her. I couldn't stand by and watch her sell her entire life away to feed her children.

"Wot 'appened t'you, Tom?" she said as we walked up the street, her hand in the crook of my elbow. "All bruised on your face, like."

"A protest, turned into a riot. At my father's textile factory." I wanted to heed Emmeline's words. They were what would help me maintain my dignity and authority. Yet what I needed now was to nurse it, and let it heal. "They do not think much of the ton, I'm afraid."

"You en't like 'em." I couldn't see her expression under her hat, but there was a sadness in her voice. "You knew my John, 'e said it 'imself, to you an' to me."

"Bella, if it had been John come home instead of me, I would have made sure it happened. He had a family. I did not." That was untrue now — I had a wife, and when the time came, children too — but those details were unimportant at the moment.

"Can't 'ardly blame you, Tom." She stopped, making me stop too. "John, 'e...'e had all these grand visions of fightin' for 'is country. Servin' the Crown, said 'e. I asked 'im, I did, why 'e would if 'e's got me an' th' children. Honour an' glory. Respect."

"There are better ways of gaining those without going to war." I did not think it helpful to mention that I joined at my father's request, to help me — in his words — grow up.

"'E didn't think so." Arabella wiped at her eyes, and I gave her my handkerchief. "An' now 'e's gone an' left me alone."

"Bella, you mustn't–" I began, but she didn't let me finish, throwing her arms around me and burying her face in my chest. Very lightly I rested my hands on her back. She was grieving and at the end of her tether, anyone could see it. And some wounds would never heal. But she was young, and did not deserve to be alone for the rest of her life while her children grew and left her.

Then, as she pulled back, she took my face very gently and kissed me, her lips soft and tasting of smoke. For a moment, I was unable to react. A woman had never done such a bold thing before. But her touch was so careful, avoiding the worst of my bruises. I wanted to let her. My hands even slid down her back and began to pull her closer. But when I thought of my own wife, and she a widow seeking attention from her husband's comrade, I could not let myself do it. I would not.

"No, Bella." I pulled away completely, not touching her. "I cannot do this."

She flushed, and bent to pick up the fallen hock to avoid my eyes. "'M sorry, Tom, I–"

"I want you to be happy, Bella." I grasped her arm and squeezed it gently, but dropped it right away. "I wish it for you, for John's sake. You are far too young to be spending the rest of your days by yourself. But we cannot have it. This. Between us."

A sadness, tinged with a faint longing, entered her eyes. "You found someone, then?"

I exhaled heavily. "Yes. But this does not mean you cannot come to visit, or bring the children. My wife would certainly like to meet you."

"Yes, I s'pose I could do that." She pressed the hock closer to her chest, as she would a baby. "Congratulations, Tom. Reckon two o' of you will get on well."

"Thank you, Bella. That means much to us."

"Hafta go," she said abruptly. "Johnny'll be returnin' from the field soon, I reckon."

Without waiting for my answer she turned on her heel and walked quickly up the lane, disappearing around the bend. I watched after her for some time, and then made my own way back to where Thor was tied in front of the pub. That incident had only proved to me that I could not simply wish my problems away. Arabella must have had feelings for me much longer than I realised, or she was simply looking for a way out of her now-miserable life of poverty and grief and never having enough.

As I was mounting Thor, I spied a crowd of men dressed in tattered clothing and battered hats carrying a long human-shaped bundle on a stretcher between them. The body was wrapped entirely in cloth, even covering its head. They appeared to be trying their best to conceal their cargo with their bodies. I took my time checking Thor's saddle and the bags attached, and when the men had gotten up the street a ways, I swung myself up and nudged him forward. He seemed to sense the importance of secrecy in this moment, and did not attempt to resist me.

They made it past the high street and took a narrow cart path headed west instead of the main thoroughfare. I kept Thor at a plodding walk, and many paces behind. At one point, two of the men dropped the end they carried and the back half of the stretcher went splashing into the water in the cart rut. They cursed, then hauled it up and struck out again.

It was only when they came to a wagon waiting at the intersection of the two roads that they noticed me. They heaved the body into the wagon bed and turned towards me, leering.

"Wot'll ye be wantin'?" asked the tallest one. His eyes were the strangest I'd ever seen, one a normal blue and the other a bright buffed golden. Not that of a Fire-Elemental, but hard, flat, and motionless. It seemed to glow, especially now that he seemed intrigued. "An' wot 'appened to yer face, mate?"

"I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Apologies." I pulled on Thor's reins, making him back up. "And the bruises...no man can resist a good sparring once in a while, can he? Blame the drinks."

"A'pose not," said the man, and then squinted at me. "Say, coulda sworn I seen yer face somewheres. Look familiar."

"I must have one of those faces," I said, as I wheeled Thor around so we were turned back the way we came. "Good day to you, gentlemen. I must get back to town for proper directions."

Then I flicked Thor's reins and gave his sides a tap, and he was off. I had no doubt, however, of what just happened. They had no formal name, and normally were not used to being caught. But I knew who they were. Ray had mentioned smugglers before, Elemental ones. And it appeared they had just perpetrated another crime.

||

I avoided the subject at all costs until Ray invited us for tea a fortnight later. Emmeline was much improved by now, smiling more and allowing herself to take my hand when she felt like it. She'd even joined me in the garden once, and we'd taken a walk while I pointed out the plants and flowers that were growing. Although Mother strongly discouraged it when we were boys, I would spend hours out here, meticulously studying and drawing the flowers. I'd thought that before the war, I fancied myself a botanist, having grand visions of presenting a new finding or a specimen to the Royal Society.

When we arrived at the Radford manor, he was already waiting for us at the door with Lady Violet and her mother hovering just inside, looking out. He smiled easily, gave my hand a few hearty pumps and Emmeline's a brush on the knuckles, but there was an uneasiness about him, one that was not there before. We didn't get to it, however, until after the second round of introductions to Lady Eden, who made a point of looking down her nose at Emmeline for so long I wondered how she did not feel uncomfortable. Ray took me by the arm and we left the women alone, and we didn't stop until we were shut in the library across the hall.

"There was another disappearance in the village," he said, with no introduction. "Can you believe it? Just like that."

"I know," I said, thinking of the men I tailed. "I saw it happen."

Those words had the effect I expected. Ray's pupils constricted, and he came up to me, grasping my shoulders. "Are you serious? Tell me everything, Tom."

I explained it while he poured us some brandy. He'd always had the best, in my opinion, delivered specially from Scotland. As I did, he paced and raked his fingers through his hair, and had to pour himself another mid-stream – having finished the first in record time.

"So the conclusion is that they aren't like us, but they aren't non-Elemental humans either?" He tugged at the knot in his neckcloth. "What are they, then?"

"Haven't the foggiest idea," I said, swirling my untouched brandy in my glass. "But if they are here, near us, it seems only a matter of time before they find other Elementals. Especially those in good standing."

"You mean...?" He swallowed hard, and I saw his Adam's apple bob. "As in us?"

"Yes," I answered after a long silence, filled with nothing but the clock ticking. "We must be on alert. They could catch us unawares."

"What will we do?" He went to the side table, pouring himself a third glass. It was astounding really, how well Ray could down his liquor. "It's clear they know what they're doing."

"First we must find out what they are, and proceed from that point." Finally, I took a sip.

Ray shuddered. "And we know Elemental Advancement will be little, if any, help."

"We must do it ourselves, then. It will be risky, but it is necessary." I ran my finger around the rim of my glass. "Could you write your cousin, perhaps? How convenient is it for him to come here?"

"Given the circumstance, I should think he would want to help in any way." Ray set his jaw, and then nodded. "Yes. I will write him. He may be able to offer his assistance."

I didn't reply. We needed all the help we could get, with or without Elemental Advancement's knowledge.

"I must offer you congratulations, Tom," Ray said after another silence. He seemed eager to change the subject. "Emmeline...she makes a lovely Lady Dorchester."

"So I've been told," I said. "You noticed?"

He scoffed. "Of course I noticed. She was wearing a wedding band. And she's got confidence now. A shade more than she did when I met her."

"That obvious, is it?" The ring was unremarkable. There were no expensive jewels, etchings, or other decorations on it. In fact, it was quite plain, just a thin gold band. When we had only enough money for the bare essentials, it was what I could afford.

"Well, yes. She seemed comfortable around you." He gave me a small smile. "I really meant to invite you personally to our wedding, Tom. That's why I asked you here today. But then this...other thing gets in the way."

I smiled back, clasping his shoulder and squeezing it. "We would be delighted to attend. When is it?"

"September," he said, running his hand over his face and exhaling heavily. "Lady Eden's insisted on planning the entire thing, since my parents aren't around to object. Her words, I'll not hesitate to clarify."

"Doubtless she would have done the same even if your parents were alive."

"A valid point." Ray dropped his hand and drained the rest of his glass. "Now perhaps we should go join the women. Wouldn't want them to think we've abandoned them."

||

'Lady Eden is a fright,' Emmeline said that night, while we were preparing for bed.

I didn't look up from unbuttoning my waistcoat. "She is what we would call in more civilised circles a holy terror."

"She asked..." Emmeline hesitated, which caught my attention. I stopped what I was doing and met her mismatched gaze. She was sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed, her auburn hair loose and disheveled. For a moment, we simply watched one another. Then she concentrated on the bedspread, picking at it with two fingers.

"What did she say?"

"She asked if...I regret it. Marrying you."

That stopped me cold. "What did you tell her?"

"No," she said, barely above a whisper. "Not for a moment. And I told her. The truth."

"Is that what you truly believe?" I reached down to pull my boots off. Strange as it was, I didn't want to see her face when she answered.

"Yes." I heard her take a deep breath. "You saved my life."

"And you have a remarkable will to live," I said, as I climbed into bed. She moved over, sliding under the covers as well. "An iron will, one might say."

She smiled softly and took my hand, lifting it to her lips and kissing my knuckles. As we laid back, she nestled into my side, her body fitting into the spaces of mine perfectly. I reached across her and put out the lamp, the room going dark. Then I closed my eyes and listened to the creaking of the big old house settling around us. It was the most peace I'd had in a very long time.

||

We settled into a routine that did not, unfortunately, include any intimacy. It was clear Emmeline found this painfully obvious, but was unable to do a thing to remedy the problem. I could hear my father's voice, every time it came up.

You must find a way to carry on the bloodline, Thomas.

I was not about to pressure Emmeline into it, however. I never wanted to be guilty of forcing her to lie with me. She would come to it on her own time, and just because we were married did not necessarily mean we had to engage in all the things that came with it. Not right away, anyway. And my father was not here. He would never know.

And yet there were many things to be happy about. Our garden and the field were growing well, and the price of grain was predicted to be up for the harvest. Emmeline ventured outside with me more often, her smile coming much easier. When the sun lit her from behind, turning her dark auburn hair a rich deep red like the flames in the heart of a fire, I almost believed I was in love with her.

"Are you happy here, Emmeline?" I asked her one day, when I was taking a break from taming the garden and we were sitting in the grass, having a small picnic Mrs Shute had sent with her out from the house.

She glanced up from spooning her stew. "I'm...much better."

"But are you happy?" A man was meant to please his wife, make her feel loved and honoured as our vows said. "I feel I have not done enough of that lately."

"Done what?" The sun struck her golden eye, lighting it from the inside and making it glow.

"Made you happy."

"Yes," she said, reaching across the space between us and taking my hand. She smiled, that familiar soft smile that I had come to love. "You have...made me happy, Tom. Very...happy."

I returned it, gently kissing her fingers. One of these days, we were going to have to address the issue of her capture again. Without that information, we could not move forward. For now, we would have to be content with this union that was not quite intimacy, and not quite love. Soon, I would have to make her relive her terror, the one that only came to her at night. And at the thought of it, my heart ached.