Maggie
I should have known it was impossible to keep him. He was like the bright flame of a match, blazing intensely for only a brief time, destined to burn out too soon and scorch the fingers of anyone trying to hold on. If it had not been his valiant heart that felled him, it would have been the Arctic, or some other heroic venture. We were never going to lead a quiet life together, no matter how much we idly dreamed about it. He was not the kind of man to live quietly.
After his death, I was desperately ill. Grief and regret tormented me in turns, piercing my heart. He had died hundreds of miles away, wanting me and thinking that I had forsaken him. Why had I not taken passage to Havana when I first knew he had left England? I could have been waiting for him when he arrived. I could have been with him at the end, held him in my arms, and eased his passing with my tears. There was also the thought, cruelest of all, that my presence might have given him the strength to rally, as Leah had once done for Calvin…
Mother and Kate and Ellen attended me lovingly, all three of them demonstrating patience beyond what I deserved. After all, was my loss greater than that of Mrs. Jane Appleton Pierce, who saw her son crushed to death in a train wreck? Was it greater than Mrs. Granger’s, whose daughter was poisoned by her own husband? Was my loss greater than my brother David’s, who lost his daughter to a fever in just two days? I had no business thinking that my suffering was more than that of any other human soul in this imperfect world, and yet it was my suffering, and as such, unbearable.
Poor Mother tried so hard to comfort me. “Doctor was a devoted spiritualist,” she said. “Surely he would send a message to you, if you would just open yourself to receive it.” Dear, silly Mother. She had no idea why her words caused me to turn my face to the wall in despair.
Physician, heal thyself. That is the message he would have sent, I think, with that ironic laugh of his. Having spent the last nine years consoling the bereaved with my rapping from the dead, was I able to lighten my own grief?
No. Because I knew I was a fraud.
I had no better understanding than anyone else of whether there truly was a heaven or a fiery perdition either. For all that Kate and I had rapped out messages from a spiritual paradise, blithely promising salvation for all and eternal happiness in another world, I did not know what happened after death. If there was a heaven to be attained, had I earned it by easing the grief of other people, or was I bound for another destination because I accomplished my work through lies?
And what would happen to me, now that the man who had promised to rescue me from this life of deceit had gone to his own reward without me?
My dreams, when I was able to achieve slumber, tormented me with visions of what might have been. In dreams he returned to me, healthy and hale; I could hear his laugh and feel his hands in mine, his lips upon my cheek. But even in the depths of sleep I knew it for a falsehood and whimpered in dread of the morning. The first moments of wakefulness would strike me like a hammer, and I would open my eyes reluctantly on a world where he did not exist.
I did not die of grief. No one ever truly does.
The days spiraled downward, dark and long and empty. Then one day, I found that I could abide my sickbed no longer, and so I moved to a chair and stared blankly out the window. On another day, I could no longer bear to sit idle, and so I picked up a needle and thread. One simple act followed another, until I finally faced myself in the mirror and beheld the hollowed cheeks, sunken eyes, and matted hair of a woman who had wallowed in her misery for nearly eight weeks. That day I said to myself, “The widow of Dr. Kane should not demean his memory with an appearance like this,” and I sent Ellen out with an order for two mourning dresses in deep black crinoline.
Everyone was so relieved to see me demonstrate some sign of life that they allowed the dresses to be delivered. Then Kate sat down beside me, gently took my hand, and queried, “How are you going to pay for them, Maggie?”
If I was going to live after all, then it would be necessary to make a living. It seemed a terribly mundane concern, something that should not have mattered in a world where the post would never again bring one of his letters, where I would never again bask in his smile. Yet I was keenly aware that I had lived all these weeks on the charity of my friend Mrs. Walters, and I did not wish to burden her any longer. The time had come, Kate explained, to address the legacy that Elisha had left in his will.
“It is fortunate that you have decided to take an interest,” she said, “for I have already written Mr. Kane to inquire about your inheritance.” I gave her a look of surprise and suspicion then, which caused her to add defensively, “I did not write in your name, Maggie. I used Mother’s name.”
“Oh, Kate,” I sighed.
“Would you rather I had let Mother write on her own?”
No, of course not. I would not have wanted Robert Kane to sneer at my mother’s uneducated scrawl. Kate explained that her initial inquiry had been answered by a curt and disinterested reply. “I can show you the letter,” she offered.
“Do not bother,” I told her. “I am familiar with his style of communication.”
Kate had written him again, persisting in her request for information on the legacy, this time presenting me as Dr. Kane’s legal widow. Unsurprisingly, this seemed to catch the lawyer’s attention, and he announced an intention to call upon us to discuss the situation.
I did not look forward to it. However, I knew that I could not expect the Kanes to honor my rights as Elisha’s widow out of the kindness of their hearts. And so I steeled myself for an unpleasant interview and resolved to behave with the dignity of a lady, however he addressed me as less than one.
I dressed in one of my new mourning gowns for his visit, knowing that the significance of my “widow’s weeds” would not escape his shrewd notice. Mrs. Walters and I received him in the parlor alone, as I had decided that the complication of Mother’s or Kate’s presence was unnecessary. Kate was unhappy to be excluded, but I knew she would not refrain from sharpening her tongue on the man who had treated me so shabbily. And Mother would be bewildered and hurt by the derision of the Kane family representative.
Mr. Kane greeted us perfunctorily and seated himself, crossing his legs with a mannerism that so resembled Elisha it caused a painful stab in my heart. Then he looked up with his cold, hooded eyes and the similarity, thankfully, disappeared. To no one’s surprise, he began by announcing he was unable to deliver the money bequeathed to me in Elisha’s will.
“My brother did not have five thousand dollars when he passed away,” Robert Kane explained. “He was entirely dependent on my father’s allowance for his living expenses. I am afraid that the money bestowed upon you in his last-minute codicil does not exist.”
“What about his book?” I asked.
“The book has not yet been published. If there were any cash advances, they have all been spent.”
“Dr. Kane must have believed the money would come from somewhere,” I said reasonably. “He was hardly likely to change his will on the morning of his departure to bequeath a sum of money he did not have.”
“Perhaps he did it to satisfy some person’s demand,” Kane said blandly, “not believing the will would ever be put into effect. I do not think he expected to die on that trip, Miss Fox.”
“Your implication is clear, Mr. Kane,” Mrs. Walters broke in, “although completely wrong.”
For just a moment, Kane looked as surprised as if a mouse in the corner of the room had decided to speak. Mrs. Walters flushed nervously, but pushed up her spectacles and looked at him defiantly. She had resented Mr. Kane ever since he made me sign that document denying my engagement, and she had a few pent-up opinions to express.
“Miss Fox never made any demands on Dr. Kane, although he had raised and dashed her hopes repeatedly. You may not have known how sick he was when he left here last October, but I can assure you that he did. He was worried and frightened enough to arrange an impromptu marriage on the eve of his departure. He then took the sensible precaution of providing for his new wife in the event that the worst came to pass.”
Recovering from his consternation at this unexpected outburst, Kane composed his features into their normal expressionless mask and said, “Ah, yes, this so-called marriage ceremony, done without benefit of magistrate, minister, or document. Did you witness it, Mrs. Walters?” He reached into his coat pocket and removed a small daybook, opening it with a gesture very like his brother. Again I closed my eyes and tried not to dwell upon their close resemblance.
“I am afraid I did not witness it, Mr. Kane,” Mrs. Walters confessed. “I had already retired for the evening. But I heard all about it the next morning.”
“From my brother?” he asked, making note in his book.
“No, from Miss Fox, and then later from her mother and sister.”
“Miss Fox’s mother and sister are the only witnesses, then,” he confirmed. At Mrs. Walters’s affirmation, he turned suddenly to me and asked, “Was the marriage consummated following this ceremony?”
I was shocked into breathlessness by the effrontery of his question and could barely speak to object. “That is certainly not a matter for discussion!”
“No, I am afraid it has a certain legal significance,” he persisted. “Did you behave as his wife?”
Flushing with mortification, I cast my eyes down in the semblance of modesty while I frantically considered my answer. To say no might lessen the legality of the marriage, but to say yes would damage my reputation if the marriage was struck down. Appearance was more important than truth here, and only I knew the truth anyway, now that Elisha was gone.
Robert Kane waited patiently for my answer, no doubt enjoying my delicate dilemma. Thankfully, I was saved from a reply by an unlikely source.
“No cohabitation is necessary for the marriage to be legal,” Mrs. Walters piped up. Elisha’s brother turned his head and stared at her as if the mouse in the room had now climbed up his trouser leg and bitten his finger. My brave little friend was flushed bright pink, her hands twisted together with nervousness, but she cleared her throat and continued. “I inquired last week with a lawyer who attends my church.” She glanced at me and drew strength from my grateful smile. “He told me that Dr. Kane knew what he was doing. The common-law ceremony is still recognized in this state, and Miss Fox’s mother and sister are perfectly legal witnesses.”
“Legal, perhaps,” sniffed Mr. Kane, “but not necessarily believable. The problem is credibility. My brother never expressed to his family any intention of marrying Miss Fox, nor gave any indication that he had already done so, and I was with him up until his very death.”
It was a hurtful statement, perhaps meant to bait me. I wanted to rail at him and vent my anguish. I would have been there too, had you not thwarted me at every turn, forbidden our match, and diverted my communication in Havana! But I knew that it was a useless protest and had steeled myself against it before his arrival. A true lady might be forgiven for losing her temper; a woman who had risen up through the lower classes to present herself as a lady did not have that luxury.
Instead, with great self-control, I replied evenly, “I think you will find he stated his intentions to your aunt, Miss Eliza Leiper. And she is under the distinct impression that he informed his parents as well.”
Mr. Kane simply regarded me impassively. “I am very sorry, Miss Fox, but I cannot corroborate that. Perhaps you do not know that my aunt passed away suddenly over a month ago.”
That was shocking enough to get a reaction out of me, no matter how I had hardened my heart to this man. I gasped out loud and pressed my fingers to my lips in distress. Miss Leiper, dead? While I lay in my bed and languished in my grief, she had died? For a long moment, I was too distraught to speak. Poor Miss Leiper, that dear lady!
“The Pattersons,” I whispered finally, my last hope for a friendly welcome among this cold and forbidding family.
“The Pattersons,” he echoed. “The Pattersons never believed my brother would marry you. It seems they knew him a good deal better than you did. I am afraid that Elisha was known in his youth as something of a ladies’ man…”
My heart was thudding painfully in my breast, but I carefully modulated my voice to a firm evenness. “You will not twist my memory of him, Mr. Kane. I am already familiar with your talent for distorting the truth, and I was also warned by your aunt that you were a ‘detestable’ man.” Here I leaned slightly forward and kept my tone as sweet as honey. “When I repeated that to Elisha, he laughed and agreed.”
There may have been a flicker, just a fleeting moment, where his eyes widened in reaction, and I felt rewarded for my small and petty tit for tat. I continued while I felt an advantage. “Besides, Mr. Kane, I have dozens of letters in which your brother discusses our engagement and our intended marriage. There is even one that addresses me as his wife. So do not pretend that you knew his mind better than I did.”
We glared at each other in hearty dislike for a second or two, and then Kane cleared his throat and returned to his professional demeanor. “Returning to the matter at hand, I am afraid that you will be disappointed in your expectations, Miss Fox. I am unable to honor my brother’s bequest to you, but I can offer you a small settlement from my own funds—five hundred dollars—under the condition that you hand over all of Dr. Kane’s correspondence and retract this fanciful tale of a common-law marriage.”
I should not have been surprised. He had tried to acquire them once before. Still, I shook my head in disbelief. “You cannot have Elisha’s letters. They are all I have left of him.”
“Come now, Miss Fox, that is not true. I can see from here that you have a diamond bracelet, purchased at great expense with my father’s money, and a locket that once belonged to my grandmother. I am sure you can get a pretty penny for the bracelet, although I would request that you consult me before selling the locket. I would give you more than a pawnshop, seeing as it is a treasured family heirloom.”
I placed a hand protectively over the locket, staring at him in wide-eyed shock. “I think it is time you left,” I whispered.
He rose but made no move toward the door. Closing his little daybook and slipping it back inside his coat, he said, “You have no hold on our family, Miss Fox. We do not recognize any contract of marriage between you and my late brother. If you take your claims to the courts or to the press, or if you try to make public my brother’s letters, we shall take legal action against you.”
“Make public the letters…” I repeated incredulously. “Is that what you think of me? Those are personal and deeply private letters, Mr. Kane. I would not sell them to anyone…least of all you. You mistake me for…for someone like yourself, a hard-hearted and vile individual with no human feeling at all!”
I rose from my chair and pierced him with an imperious glare. “You shame yourself, sir, in this callous betrayal of your brother’s wishes. I am Elisha’s wife…in the eyes of God and the law. You cannot unmake that sacred bond. Not by wishing it away, and not by intimidation!”
His mouth twisted in an ironic smirk. He turned and bowed politely to Mrs. Walters, who was huffing indignantly at him, then replaced his hat on his head and started for the door. He strode past me as though I were a house servant unworthy of notice, without acknowledgment or farewell.
Mrs. Walters was up and out of her seat in the blink of an eye. “Oh, Maggie,” she gasped, taking my two hands in her own, “what a horrid man! I hope I did not speak out of turn…”
“No, Ellen,” I assured her, giving her a grateful hug even though I was trembling with belated reaction from head to toe. “You were wonderful!”
“Forgive me, dear,” she said, “for I know how much you loved Dr. Kane, but his brother is a nasty piece of work! And from his behavior I would conclude that the rest of his family is not much better!”
“I was warned as much,” I murmured, clasping my cold hands to my bosom and gripping Elisha’s locket.
Yes, I had been amply warned.