Angel of Ash (37 page)

“
When shall it come a time, to have another one, a sister or brother for Glory to play with?” Caleb asked, amused, ignoring the tension in the room.

Angel blushed swallowing some milk.

It was Asher who answered. “No telling of such, Glory is young yet.” He said diplomatically. “And plus she has her cousins, Ethan and Lauran. You are right Caleb, the family is fast growing. Soon you shall have your own bride to see to, children of your own to care for.”

“
I fear you are right, brother,” Caleb responded, a smile in his voice. “It is well time, I have settled down, and quickly, mother has prayed earnestly for this to come, and I fear God has finally heeded her prayers.”

“
And so therefore, you have a woman in the mind?” Angel asked.

“
Mother, I am afraid, has deemed. She states David is bringing distant marital relations to arrive with him from her home country. I have let it be known, if she find the young woman half bit as lovely as her herself is, I will not fight any nuptials but give in gracefully and start the arrival of the newest Earl.”

“
Well stated, brother,” Angel, said, “I cannot wait to discuss this with your mother and Hunter, how I shall join in their prayers, to your disavowal, kind sir, you shall see, marriage is not…” she ended it. Her marriage was not one to be written about in the stars, nor the heavens. Her husband still withheld himself from her; there was a part of her that she could not reach, that he kept hidden, sacred from her. “Never the mind, sir, I shall pray the Lord brings you the perfect mate for the happiness of you both.”

Asher’s’ embittered heart kept quiet. The breakfast continued with Caleb and Angel holding the conversation, Asher reticent and impatient, until finally he stood up hastily. “My lord, my lady,” he said in departure throwing his napkin on his half-finished plate, before leaving the room.

“
He has still not settled into his husbandly duties, I see,” Caleb said, holding the now sleepy Glory in the cradle of his arms.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Angel could only smile weakly. “If the Lord would but give me the secret to my husband’s heart, I would give Him my soul a thousand times over.” She spoke quietly.

“
It is not for you to pray such, as that, Angel, your husband, and my brother is an arse of the worse kind.”
“Do not speak as such of your brother. The Lord has gifted you with a wonderful family, one in which I hope for and He has blessed me with. Now, no more of this talk. I have to little to complain about, and neither you. We have our health, family and new additions into our lives, brother.”
“Ever the diplomat, Angel,” he said, quieting the subject. “I assume you speak to Hunter of female business, I take it to understand. If ever you need a sympathetic ear as to how my brother internal clock ticks you may bore my ear.”

Laughing, she agreed. “Come, let us take Glory out for a stroll in Hyde Park, if you have time,” she said.

“
All the time in the world.”

As the days grew shorter and the nights colder, Angel welcomed the Hawthorne family to London, showering her new family with love, along with her father who stayed in a hotel nearby and visited nearly every day. As yet, Asher spent less time at home. She had no doubt he was either at the orphanage or his business office and did not have welcome respite with a new baby. But forced smiles and temperate thoughts waned her, the piano still stayed locked, she had not asked for the key and he’d not offered. Many a times when Glory would cry, Angel would wish for the healing comfort of the piano, to ease both her pain and Glory’s’ temporary unease.

Late at night, Asher has still not come home, indeed, the young wife had not seen her husband in two days, he’d not said a bye your leave nor given Glory a kiss goodbye. Retiring to Glory’s room, she cradled her nursing baby in her arms and took to revealing her heart to her small daughter.

“
I cannot believe God has gifted you with me,” she began, stroking her silken hair, one of her favorite pastimes. “Or that you are so beautiful, so many long years, I have felt the dreaded ugly duckling. A half breed, as so many impolite people have called me. I shall protect you from the world,” Angel promised. “I didn’t feel truly beautiful until your father looked at me,” she admitted. “Oh, I am not a fool, I know there are men who desire me, Yet, I have loved none other than your father. I know little one, I know,” as Glory fretted in her sleep. It was a short minute before she quieted down. “Do not worry, my love. He loves you; I know this with all my heart. Asher loves you. And maybe one day he will love me, I shall not despair.” She said, one finger being wrapped by her daughters’ small hand. “Perhaps you shall play music as your mother plays, my sweet,’ she said. “Asher has not unlocked the piano…and weak me have not asked. I am afraid; I live in fear of my own husband. Fear that he will hate me, fear that he will never love me, and fear that he will leave me. I wake with it, even through my prayers. I think of how easily he can leave me…leave us. There is nothing to hold him to me, If he was standing here right now, in front of me, were I to find the strength, I’d say, Asher, Asher, I love you with all my heart, if you would but ask it of me, I’d give you my dreams, my hopes, my wishes and in return, I’d only ask in return is for him to say kind words to me. It would not have to be I love you. But perhaps, hello, that is all. Hello, dear I miss you,” she said, then laughed softly. “Yet, who am I kidding, only myself. It shall come to pass as it comes to pass, little one. He spends so much time away from his own home. I fear, no, I’m sorry, I shall not speak of fear again, I do my mother an injustice, she has raised me to be strong, and I have been so strong for others, but never myself. Perhaps it is time. I think tomorrow, I shall take a small step towards strength and tell my husband…tell your…daddy…that I love him. And if he rejects me, then he rejects me. I shall believe God has his heart in His hands. Know this little one you and your father have my heart forever.”

Asher turned away from Glory’s door he’d stood and watched as Angel had breast fed Glory, before lulling her into a peaceful sleep, and then revealing her heart to their small daughter. Turning, he strode towards his bedroom, carefully shutting the door, stripping hurriedly, unsure of himself, and found his hands shaking, trembling in the air such as fine leaves in the fall wind. My God, my God, he thought to himself, shaken to his very core. The past still haunting him, quaking. “God,” he whispered. “What is this madness that grips me, to inflict such pain to bring fear to my own wife? What I’d wanted, to make her loathe me as I pretended to loather her? And still, she shows me love, still she wants me, still she is faithful and true and I’ve done all I can to destroy her love and she has not failed in it.”

Getting under the covers, tired and exhausted from endlessly long, sleepless nights, he grew easily fatigued, wanting an end to this madness which gripped him.

He heard her enter his bedroom moments later, “Asher,” she said quietly. “May I enter?” She asked softly.

“
Yes,” he said, biting his lower lip, when he about to add my lady. He knew she hated the phrase. “Angel, come,” he said sitting up in the bed, drawing towards her, his wife.

She was taken aback, before a soft smile broke upon her beautiful face. This was the woman who loved him, he thought to himself. Who thought well of him. No other woman had revealed such barren honesty. No other woman had wanted his heart.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, butterflies in her stomach, remembering her revelation, her promise, as he walked towards her, her hands trembling. She was strong, she thought to herself, God, give me strength! She thought, thoughts failed her, she remembered the last time she’d tried to reveal herself to him, the night of the ball, and how he’d rejected her. Angels’ face flushed, as she tightened her hands in one clasped fist.

He will reject you, her cowardly voice spoke loudly.

And if he does, what then?

And if he doesn’t what then?

We shall never know, unless I say something.

Say something, Angel.

Tell him you love him.

Tell him how much you love him.

Tell your husband your heart.

“
I love you, husband, with all of my heart, with all my soul. No matter what your thoughts and concerns are towards me. If I could but change your heart, I would pray this of the Lord, I love you…Asher.”

He did not seem to hear her, pulling her into his arms, butterflies still in her stomach. Kissing her gently he spoke quietly. “I need help, Angel. I need to erase these demons which haunt me to no end, for the sake of you…for the sake of Glory. So many times I have dreamed of peace and yet, when I awaken, I am once again in this hell of my choosing my making. I know no other way, I am strangling, I am dying. I would wish to speak the words that you have spoken to me. Yet, fear holds me captured. You should know, my wife…I have never wanted another more than you. I have never been consumed by another as I have you.”

Shaking her head sadly, she penetrated his eyes with her soul. “No. No, that is not true. She…the one you loved…the one who died, she still consumes you, your heart, your soul. Until you lay her to rest you will never give me your heart. You can never.”

Turning away, he stared outside the darkened window. “Who told you?”

“
Your family.” She said, brushing aside names so that he would not anger. “So it is true?”

He did not answer, which gave her all the answer she needed. Sighing she stared at the fire, while he stared out the window, their backs towards each other. Neither one spoke and it was finally Angel who laid in bed after undressing, knowing her life would not be at peace until Deborah was fully gone for their lives. It seemed as if her very spirit haunted the couple, she shivered goose bumps upon her arms, a draft had flitted in, and Asher had opened the French balcony doors and stood outside, the chill fall air brushing inside. Yet, she knew it was something more. Deborah haunted her husband.

Following him outside she watched as he stared into the fathomless black sky. “Tell me about your childhood, Asher…please, tell me about her.”

“
I cannot! To do so would bring it all back. I will not be weakened like that ever again.”

“
Then I shall tell you about my childhood. My earliest memories were also filled with pain…and bitterness. My mother and I were sold to one brutal ‘master’ to the other. I was poked, prodded like an animal. Touched in my private areas as a child by men elderly, rank with alcohol disgusting. I could do nothing, say nothing. I would watch as my mother cried…she hated this life, she hated being a slave, but she never cried in front of me. She never showed any weakness in front of me. She was so strong. When one man…he stuck his finger inside of me, my privates, she smacked him so hard…and was whipped twenty lashes. She never once cried out. She told him…if you touch my child again, I will kill you. He never touched me again. She would not back down, even if it meant her death, she would not allow us to be separated. If I could not do something instead of punishing me she would take the punishment to herself. We finally settled into a home, the woman who taught me how to play the piano, read and write. The day my mother died I felt as if my world ended. But I knew, I knew I had to be strong as she was strong. I would not allow the men to rape me as I was sold again. I fought them and was given a small semblance of respect. Even Lair, the one who held your sister captive and I…I refused to be brought into his madness. I suffered with your sister for those 7 years. I was whipped and beaten but I never once cried in front of him I never once showed him weakness. You…you have been the only man I’ve ever committed myself to. The only one that I have lost my soul to. That I have forgotten my strength with. Forgotten the promise to my mother.”

She paused strangely absent of tears, staring outside the sky. “Like you I could be filled with bitterness, hate the life dealt me, remember the pain and the horrors of those many nights I was abused, sold, hit, hurt, tortured, starved, whipped, beaten. Or I can remember the joys of my mother’s hand upon my cheek, the woman who taught me piano, the joy I have brought to others by playing the piano, the friendship of your sister, the kindness of strangers, the reunion to my father, and the strength of my faith. The wedding of my husband, the love of my child. To awaken to the warmth of the sun, to smell the fresh air, to run across the meadow, to stare, even now, at the sky before me and wonder at the glory of it all. The life given to me. The hope for an unknown but exciting future.”

She grew silent and neither spoke for long moments.

“
How do you not…how do you not hate those who hurt you?” He finally asked.

“
But for the grace of God. It could have been myself born as the abuser. The one without knowledge of peace, the one so deepened and deadened to sin. It is hard but I choose to forgive. I choose to release them. Because if I don’t they would hold me in bondage and I would fester with hate and pain. And instead of looking forward to my tomorrows, I would reminisce about my yesterdays. A past that cannot be changed no matter how much I wish to change it. The past cannot ever be changed, no matter how much we wish it, my lord. And the one that holds you in pain…they are long gone. Sometimes we fight at the wind, at the rain that is still to come no matter how much we wish it otherwise. If I had given in to the bitterness, I would have died with my mother that night. I had a knife next to me…I wanted to die so badly. But I remembered the good days, the faith of my God, the healing of wounds both those seen and unseen, and I stilled my hand from bringing myself harm. If I had died that night as I had wanted to so that I could escape the pain that I was currently feeling I would not be standing before you now, I would not have met your sister…I would not be a mother right now. There would be no Glory. There would be no two of us standing before the midnight sky.”