Page 14 of Love is Strange
“I know what you’re going to say—”
“Do you? Are you certain? Because I’m at a loss where to begin listing my concerns.” McDougal’s worry was as evident as his disapproval. “You’re a bright man, Henry…but it seems that you’re making decisions with the wrong part of your anatomy.”
I opened my mouth and snapped it back closed. I couldn’t respond to that. It made far too much sense to argue with.
“You know the difference between right and wrong, old chap. You’re long past the age of reason. You must report this violence to the constable. Such incidents are not covered under the seal of confession. You witnessed it before your very eyes. As for the rest…I am sympathetic. We’ve all slipped, O’Neil. Every one of us in one way or another to a certain degree. But we don’t just alter our life’s course in pursuit of tail, no matter how attractive or accessible.”
“I can’t betray her.”
“Do you think the same is true of her?” The devil on my shoulder roared at his implications. McDougal had turned his back on me, staring into the dying fire. “How do you know she won’t tell them you’re responsible for this man’s murder, should the situation change?”
“You would think differently if you met her.”
“I don’t need to meet her to know she’s an opportunist.”
“She’s a victim of circumstance, nothing more.”
“Prone to fickleness and flight. And her morals…of all the women to throw your future away on, you choose one who lies with anybody for enough coin.”
“She has no other means. Once we are free of this place—”
“You’ll what? Leave the church and become a laborer? What skills have you, Henry, outside of the clergy? Without your collar, you’re a well-born gentleman without property or holdings. You are not thinking clearly, my friend. This woman has you by the—she would likely sell you out for a better opportunity, mark my words. She sounds like a survivor to me, pure and simple. And you, my good sir, are her most recent in a long line of marks.”
I wept then, openly. He sought to console me, assuming I was grieving my romantic notions. I wasn’t. I was ashamed that I’d envisioned striking him repeatedly with the fire poker resting steps away from where he stood.
“My dear friend,” he continued. “I shall go and see this girl. Ascertain her intentions. Offer her my counsel. If she is as true as you say, you will have my blessing to be free of this life. The Lord wants you to have the life you were meant to have. This calling is not for all who seek it.”
“Bless you, Mac,” I said, my face flushed with guilt at my violent thoughts. I felt the weight lifting from me as he changed into plain clothes, and left with instructions on where to find my beloved.
I paced for hours, gnawing at my nails and watching the swinging pendulum of my grandfather clock.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
The ticking sound echoed in the silence of the lonely rectory, taunting my jangled nerves. When the clock struck midnight, I could no longer stand the anticipation, and yanking my coat from the hall tree, I hurried out into the crisp evening to track down the missing Bishop. With long strides, I made short work of the twisting alleyways that lead to the bordello, and retracing my steps, I approached the back door. To my surprise, there were no guards on duty. I could only assume they demanded the holiday off. I lifted my foot to step inside, when I heard familiar voices approaching. Stepping back into the shadows, I waited and watched.
“You really are exceptional. I can see why Henry’s smitten. Are you sure that’s enough?” McDougal rounded the corner, buttoning his trousers. Eve followed close behind, counting her coin.
“More than generous, Your Excellency,” she responded mechanically.
He spun to face her and backed her against the wall, cupping her breast. “And you’ll get on the boat tomorrow without contacting Henry again.”
She gave him a curt nod. “If it pleases you, Your Excellency.”
I retreated, my chest on fire, my head pounding. My tears blinded me along with my rage, and I stopped halfway back to the rectory, retching and vomiting all over my boots. When I recovered enough to function, I changed course, hastily entering the cathedral. Desperate, I sought the Holy Ghost’s hand to stay my own.
I was nearly through every bead on my rosary, when I heard the door creak open behind me.
“Henry?”
I ignored McDougal, also ignoring the stench of bile wafting off of myself. I ignored the wind whistling outside before the door shut firmly behind him. The only thing I couldn’t seem to ignore was my fractured heart failing in my chest.
His boots approached, nearing like a processional toward my place at the altar.
God, tell me what to do. Give me the strength to control myself. Help me find the words.
“Henry?” His hand came down on my shoulder. I could smell her scent on it.
