A Household of Three - a Meridian Society tale (The Corsair & Madam Mim)

[TheCorsair]

Beverly
East Yorkshire, England
January 23, 1919

"Thank you," Professor Algernon Swift said as he applied the brakes and brought his roadster to a halt. "For indulging my flair for the dramatic." He said it lightly, but a curious mixture of dread and anxiety and relief gripped his heart. It was not every day, he reflected, that one introduced one's wife to one's...

He frowned, ever so slightly. What was the proper way to describe Anne Marie, in light of their altered relationship? 'Lover' felt trite and juvenile, and 'mistress' felt insulting. His love, perhaps? It fit, but it felt disrespectful to Maggie's memory.

Maggie's memory. As if she had died. But, in a sense, she had. Decades ago.

Stepping from the car, he paused and gazed at the two-story house before them. Dusted with snow, windows rimed with frost, it glittered in the afternoon sun like something from a Currier and Ives illustration.

Sighing, melancholy joining the anxiety and guilt, he tramped around the car and opened the door. "Westwood Road," he said as he helped her from the car. "The name of the house, I mean. It's where my wife lives."

Damn it, he was repeating himself now! He'd told her as much, when he'd asked her to accompany him to Beverly. When he'd asked her to meet his wife, and had promised to answer all her questions once she had.

Anne Marie was a patient, magnificent woman. What she saw in him, he had no comprehension.

Taking her arm, he escorted her up the walk and onto the stoop. Inside the hallway was warm and scented faintly with baking bread, and a stocky woman with iron grey hair and a black dress emerged from as he helped Anne Marie off with her coat. "Oh, Professor," she said, relaxing slightly and discretely pretending the hickory cudgel she carried was a cane. "I received your cable, of course, but I assumed the weather would delay you."

"Tosh, Mrs. Heath," Algernon chuckled. "And allow me to introduce you. This is Madame Anne Marie La Monte, marquise de Sévigné."

Mrs. Heath curtsied, an effect spoiled by the cudgel. "Ma'am."

"Anne Marie, this is the redoubtable and highly capable Mrs. Elizabeth Heath, my wife's aide and nurse." He hung up his own coat. "How is she, Mrs. Heath?"

"She's... she's having one of her good days, Professor Swift." She hesitated. "I, I took the liberty of informing her you would be visiting. It seemed to cheer her."

"Thank you," he murmured. Drawing a deep breath, he offered Anne Marie his arm. "As they say: no time like the present. Will you join me?"

 

[Madam Mim]

"It isn't dramatic at all," Anne Marie said with a dismissive wave. "I learned long ago that it is best to let you divulge the details of your private life in your own time. If this is what you need, Algie, then this is what I will give you."

She let him have a few moments as he paused outside the car. It was a beautiful home. Garlands still decorated the stone facade and a wreath still hung on the door as though tomorrow were Christmas. It was charming, but Anne Marie was unable to be charmed at the moment. She dreaded whatever might lie within. She knew she shouldn't, but she couldn't help it. This was the remaining tie to Algernon's life outside of the Society, before her, before Gustav even. It was alien and terrifying because God only knew what effect it might have on her, on them. But her concern oughtn't be for herself and she knew that. As Algie started repeating himself while helping her out of the car, she took a firmer hold of his hand and smiled in what she hoped was a comforting matter.

"Breathe, mon amour," she said gently before bringing his hand to her lips. Gently she kissed each finger before squeezing his hand then taking his arm properly and letting him lead the way inside.

She was slightly alarmed at the sight of the squat woman brandishing a cudgel before pretending it was a walking stick. But Mrs. Heath didn't mention it and Anne Marie's expression remained placid, as though she believed that it was a walking stick. Even if she'd had no relation to the professor, this was not a woman to be trifled with.

"Madame," Anne Marie returned politely, curtsying gracefully in return and managing a small smile. She liked Mrs. Heath. Her smile faltered, however, when Algie offered her his arm again and asked her to join him. Taking a deep breath she took his arm and nodded. "But of course."

Madame LaMonte's heart pounded as they mounted the stairs. Would he tell his wife who she was, and who she was to him? Or would she know before he could even tell her? Would his Mrs. Swift understand? Anne Marie had never gone among mad people before, and while this was vastly more accommodating than Bedlam she was still nervous. She felt like she was intruding upon a marriage, like she was staking claim to a man who wasn't hers even though the woman had been detached from the knowable world for more than two decades. Even more worrisome, however, was the doubt which had haunted Anne Marie ever since Algie had told her that his wife was still living: would she measure up? Was she good enough for him? This was the woman he had chosen to marry; she was his pupil, his colleague, his friend, young enough to be his daughter, and arguably some of the only friendly female contact he'd had outside of work after Gustav LaMonte had tortured his wife to madness. It felt almost like she was cheating in having won his affections. Or else like she was the consolation prize, the woman he was with simply because she was there.

But this wasn't about her. It was about Algernon. Anne Marie swallowed her feelings of inadequacy and her fears, fixing in place that mask which had been painted on for so many years. Leaning up she kissed the professor's cheek gently, squeezing his arm encouragingly as he reached for the door.

 

[TheCorsair]

Algernon headed for the far door at the top of the stairs. The master bedroom, he knew. He'd been here many times, both before and... after. Steeling himself, he opened turned the know and opened the door. The room beyond was much as he remembered it, a large bed covered with a wedding ring quilt against one wall, and a table and two wing-back chairs by the bay window, and a dresser and vanity, and bookcases. Both of them loved to read. Had loved to read, in Maggie's case. And there she was, sitting in one of the chairs and staring out the window. A sketch pad lay on the small table, close to hand.

Within was a lovely older woman, about Algernon's age. Her silvery hair was cut to shoulder length, framing an oval face with blue eyes and a nose that appeared to have been broken once and not quite set correctly. She wore a simple grey blouse and long blue skirt, and she flinched and crouched away as she heard the door open. Then her features lit up as she saw the man standing in the doorway. "Algie!" she cried, leaping to her feet and dashing across the room to catch him in a big hug. "Mummy said you were coming to visit, Algie! It's so good to see you!" Giggling, she kissed the tip of his nose and then seemed to notice Anne Marie for the first time. "And Fanny came over, too? Mummy didn't say she was coming!"

Before Algernon could stop her, the woman embraced Anne Marie. "Oh, Fanny, it's been ages. I got a new doll! Would you like to see it? I..." The woman stopped, blinking in confusion as she looked around. "I... don't see it... Where... where's my..." Her voice became more agitated as she spoke. "My little Helen. Where's my..."

Quickly, Algernon embraced her back. "We can find your doll later, Maggie. I want you to meet..."

With a cry, Maggie pulled away. "Who... who are you? Don't..." She shrank back towards the wall, eyes filled with dread at the sight of him. "Please..."

There was agony on Algernon's face, now. "It's me, Maggie. It's Algernon. Algie? Your husband?"

"My... my... husband?" She sniffed, staring at him. "It's... it's true? You... you found me?"

"Yes, yes, I found you." His voice caught, and he had to look away. "And I want you to meet someone, Maggie. This is..."

"Fanny!" Maggie said, suddenly excited again as she looked at Anne Marie. "Oh, you're being silly, Algie! I know her!"

"No, no," Algernon persisted. "This is a... a friend of mine. Her name is Anne Marie. Anne Marie La Monte."

Maggie stared at her for a moment, and some sort of comprehension seemed to dawn. She drew herself up and offered her a hand. "A pleasure, Miss La Monte. Margaret Swift. How do you do?" Then she giggled and dimpled as she smiled. "Was that right, poppa?" she asked. "I used my manners, just like you taught me!"

 

[Madam Mim]

This was Hell. The car had crashed on the way here and now Anne Marie was in her personal Hell, having to watch the pain in Algernon's eyes as he looked over the woman he loved. And he did love her, that much was plain. She felt selfish for noticing that, for feeling for herself that he loved Maggie, not her. How could he? This woman was bright and vibrant and expressive, free with her emotions; nothing like her at all.

Anne Marie let out a soft, surprised oof when Maggie embraced her, but wasted no time in leaning down hugging her back. Maggie's grip on the taller, willowy woman was firm and strong but gentle. It was the sort of hug that would have been suited to a mother, if only...

"We can find your doll later, Maggie. I want you to meet..."

But Maggie pulled away and Anne Marie blanched. She tried for a friendly smile but her throat had closed and her mouth had gone dry. LaMonte had had a habit of infantilizing her sometimes, putting her hair into girlish ringlets, dressing her in short, frilly pink dresses and giving her dolls before beating and raping her brutally. To this day she never wore pink. If she had survived his games, what on God's good earth had he done to this poor woman? There were very few secrets she'd kept from Algernon but that had been one of them, and she wondered whether he knew what had been done to his wife and, worse, whether to tell him. As Maggie came back to herself Anne Marie managed to swallow a few times and work up a more genuine-looking smile when Algernon finally managed to introduce them.

"Very well, Mrs. Swift," she managed to answer, shaking Maggie's hand, "and you may call me Anne Marie. I insist. How do you do?" She could see the pain clearly in Algernon's eyes when Maggie proudly showed off her manners. She wished she could take his hand, that she could gather him to her and somehow kiss it better. But even if he allowed her to, she didn't want to upset Maggie. "Were you sketching before we came in?" she asked politely, looking over to the pad on the table. "I'm afraid I've never been a very good artist myself. I would love to see some of your drawings."

 

[TheCorsair]

"Anne Marie," Maggie giggled, leading her iver to the window. "That's a pretty name. And I love drawing! Mummy says I'm really good." Shyly, she presented Anne Marie with a sketch page. A few initial strokes of the pen had formed a skillful suggestion of the view outside, but the picture rapidly devolved into stick figures and scribbling. "That's me," she said proudly, pointing to one of the stuck figures. "And that's Algie, and that's... that's..." Her vouce began to hesitate, exoression falling. "That's..."

Algernon tried to take her in his arms and turn her from the page. "NO!" she shrieked, jerking away from his touch. "Don't! I have to... have to find..." There was panic in her voice and she cowered against Anne Marie, staring at Akgernon with unseeing terror. "My... my... my doll..." she whimpered, head turning frantically. "I... I have to... to find... my... my doll..."

Pain squeezed Algernon's heart, pain such that he wished it were a heart attack. Because then it would end. "We... can we help you look?" he asked, heartbreak and agony tearing away his normally calm demeanor.

Maggie collapsed onto the floor, wrapping her arms around herself and rocking back and forth. Great wracking sobs shook her slim figure. "Gone," she moaned through her tears. "My... my... my doll. She's... she's... I can't... please, no... my doll.. let... let me... hold her..."

Grief twisted Algernon's face, tears glistened in his eyes, and he shook as he knelt and took her hands. "I found you," he whispered, and it was a testament to his self-control that he was able to speak. "Maggie... can you hear me? You're safe."

The sobs subsided. Finally, she looked up. "Algie!" she squealed in delight, throwing her arms around him. "Mummy said you were coming to visit!"

 

[Madam Mim]

"Well, your mummy was quite right," Anne Marie said proudly, though her heart ached as her eyes slid from one side of the drawing to the other as it deteriorated with Maggie's shifting mental state. If this was one of the good days, what on earth must her bad days be like? "Well Algie, I think she's gotten you quite right." She managed a genuine smile, but it dropped quickly when Maggie began to falter.

Algernon tried to take her, but Anne Marie shook her head even as Maggie shrieked and cowered against her. Carefully she wrapped her arms around Maggie as the older woman looked around frantically. "Maggie listen to me," she said calmly in what she hoped was a soothing voice. "Your doll isn't lost. Helen isn't lost, alright? She's--" Maggie collapsed and Anne Marie sank to the floor with her, holding her carefully around the shoulders as she rocked. "She's just in the other room," she assured her gently. "You've forgotten her, that's all. Mrs. Heath will bring her from the other room. We can comb her hair and put her in a pretty new dress, hm? I'm sure you've got lots of pretty dresses for Helen, haven't you?" She stroked her hair softly, throat burning as she tried to swallow the tears for Algie's sake.

She had despised the dolls with every aching fiber of her being and had in fact smashed one or two before the punishment for doing so simply became too much. But then, she had also been allowed out of the house and among society where LaMonte could show her off. If Maggie had been locked away somewhere in the mansion with the dolls as her only companions, Anne Marie could only imagine she would have clung to at least one as her lifeline to the sanity which eventually broke. She relocked the door which had held those memories away from the forefront of her mind for so many years when Algernon managed to calm his wife once again. Her heart broke for them both as Maggie regained control and threw her arms about him once more. Anne Marie balled her fists in her lap to hide the shaking of her hands. She wanted to leave, but Algie needed to show this to her and needed someone with him through such pain. As much as she wanted to go, she would stay for however long he needed to.

 

[TheCorsair]

The visit lasted two hours. Two interminable, heart-breaking hours in which Algernon was able to catch fleeting glimpses of the woman he has,d married. In fits and starts she wiuld begin a witty conversation or make a piercing comment, only to shrink away as the memiries threatened to return. Elizabeth be,rought tea as they talked, and fresh bread with butter and honey, and Maggie squeaked with delight as she dug in.

"You love her," she said unexpectedly. "I can tell."

Algernin's throat caught. "Yes..." he admitted, hoarsely.

Maggie looked at him with deep sadness, and smiled. "Good. I'm..." Her voice trailed away again, and she began to look slowly around with a puzzled expression. Then she made a little sound of excitement and grabbed her bread with both hands. "Yay! Honey!" she cried, stuffing a large bite into her mouth.

He drew a ragged breath, and set his tea cup back down before his hands could begin to shake. It took several minutes before he could master himself enough to speak. "I fear we must leave, Maggie."

Her face fell. "Can't you stay a little longer? Please? I still haven't shown you my... my..." Eyes began to dart around the room, frantically. "My... doll. My.. my..."

"I've seen her. Before." His heart felt as if it were a lead weight. "She was... beautiful." Out of sight of his wife he clenched his fists, dtightening around the key he'd palmed. The points dug painfully into his palm, helping him focus. "But... I'll visit soon."

Maggie looked at him, the panic gone. "And will Anne Marie visit?" He nodded mutely, and she clapped her hands together. "Yay! We'll be such goid friends, I just know it!" He rose as he did, curtsying. She giggled when he tried to kiss her, turning her face so that his lios brushed her cheek, then hugged Anne Marie. "Bye bye!" she called as they left.

Outside the door, Algernon's mask slipped. He sagged against the wall, hands over his face as he struggled with his emotions, and a strangled sob escaped his lips. Then, drawing a deep, ragged breath, he forced himself to stand as Elizabeth Heath came up the stairs. "I... took the liberty of having the guest cottage readied," she said, solicitiously.

"Thank you," he said wearily. It was tempting to sag diwn there, give in to grief and despair. Instead, he offered his arm to Anne Marie and tried not to look too closely at her expression. "I assume dinner waits for us there?"

"Yes, Professor," Mrs. Heath answered. "And a bottle of medicinal brandy."

"Thank you. You are a... a marvel and a wonder." Stiffky, feeling as if his heart were tearing itself from his chest with every step, he made his way down the stairs.

 

[Madam Mim]

Maggie was a delight and Anne Marie felt as though they could have been friends. God it was awful! When Mrs. Swift declared that Algernon loved her Anne Marie's hand slipped on the butter knife but she managed to catch it in time. Already she'd been rattled and that was a terrible proclamation from her lover's wife. Maggie smiled sadly and said it was good, but that sadness seemed to take her mind again until she focused on the bread.

"I look forward to visiting again," she said truthfully, bending to hug her as they made their farewells. "We'll be very good friends Maggie, I'm certain of it."

She hugged Algernon gently once they stepped outside, but released him when Mrs. Heath came up the stairs. She was certain he would appreciate being seen in such a way by his wife's nurse. Anne Marie gave her a weak smile when she informed them that the guest cottage had been prepared and that dinner was on the table. After making their way through the snow she made polite conversation through a delicious dinner, but all in all was drained from the two hours--had it really only been two hours?--they'd just spent. After dinner Anne Marie disappeared into the kitchen without much notice.

Gustav never went into the kitchens when he was alive. Cooking was a servant's job, and he was absolutely not a servant, so Anne Marie had began going there to get away for what little amounts of time she could. Eventually the chefs employed there began teaching her and baking had become her outlet. Even afterwards when Algie had gotten too much in his intense training she would disappear into the kitchens. The things she baked almost always went to a poorhouse; Anne Marie carefully watched what she ate as she hadn't been blessed with genetics to keep her thin without a care for what went into her mouth. Her mother, or what she remembered of her, had been a stout woman. Tonight was different. Tonight she would eat the entire fucking cake herself if she felt like it.

But she didn't get as far as eating. The bake time had given Anne Marie too much time alone with her thoughts and her memories, and as the cake sat on the counter to cool she slid to the floor with her back to the cabinets and finally she cried. These weren't the quiet, gentle tears a ballet or opera could move her to; it was ugly, loud, splotchy-faced, scrunch-nosed, body wracking sobs the like of which she hadn't allowed herself in decades. Suddenly she was fifteen years old again, recovering from her wedding night, hiding in the kitchens with her arms wrapped around her shins and her forehead on her knees. Movement in the doorway caught her attention and she looked up.

"Algie...Algie I-I-I'm so s-s-sorry...I..." But she couldn't finish her sentence. Anne Marie's face crumpled again into a scrunched, splotchy mess and she hid it as another wave of sobs broke over her. "I-I-I sh-shouldn't be the o-o-o-one cry-y-y-ing-g-g..." she managed to hyperventilate to her thighs between sobs. "I-I-I'm s-s-sorr-r-r-y-y-y..."

 

[TheCorsair]

He barely tasted dinner, which was a crime. Mrs. Heath was a delightful cook, and the meat pie was crusty and savory, but it may as well have been ash for all the attention he gave it. Anne Marie sat across the little table, pale and silent as well, and neither of them spoke. After dinner she rose, departing into the cottage kitchen. Fir his own part, he poured himself another brandy and brooded.

Gustave La Monte. A million deaths wiuld not be too much for that monster. The man - the beast - that had broken his Maggie. That had tortured Anne Marie. That had... his thoughts shied away from the last, refusing to finish it as he fumbled for the brandy again. Hiw many times had he refilled it? He didn't know. Didn't care, either. Drink, or scream and rage and break things. God, but he was...

Sobbing? Was that... sobbing? Yes. It took a moment for the thought to penetrate the buzz of alcohol. Anne Marie! Scrambling to his feet he bolted fit the kitchen. There she was on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees as she sobbed and shook, and began stammering out an apology as she saw him.

He joined her on the floor, folding her in his arms. "No," he whispered, leaning her head against his chest and stroking her hair. "Shh, no. You... have nothing to be sorry for." He kissed the top of her head gently. "I'm... I'm a damn fool. I should have known you'd work it out. Realize what... what was done to her." His arms tightened. "I should... should have warned you. But... I have... have the hardest... time... speaking... of... of it..."

His voice broke, and his control failed. Tears trickled down his eyes, the precursor to the grief that he normally bottled away. His own sobs were wordless gasps as the emotions broke free, wracking his frame painfully.

After what felt like hours, he finally cried himself out. "Is... you baked a cake?" It felt absurd, after his outpouring of grief. "Shall we eat it, and drink heavily? Because... because I iwe you an... an explanation. And we will bothneec cake and brandy, I suspect, to get through it."

 

[Madam Mim]

When Algie pulled her to his chest Anne Marie didn't fight it. Instead she put one hand on his shoulder, which then crept to his neck as her fingers ran through and tugged absently at the ends of his short-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. He said he should have known that she would have worked out what had been done to Maggie, but did he know? Did he know about the dresses and the dolls, about the lollis and the toys? Did he know about the ropes and gags and blindfolds, about the canes and chains and whips? Did he know about the electrified clamps? About the choking and the scratching and biting which broke enough skin to lead to infection? No...if Maggie had always been in that state then there was no way he could know.

"I'm just so...so...so selfish," Anne Marie sobbed into his chest. It was all she could do to manage English at the moment. "You...you love her and...a-a-and that should have been me..." Indeed the only reason it wasn't her was because she'd killed him first.

But when Algie began to cry too her selfish thoughts were pushed away. Anne Marie wrapped her arms around his neck in the best sort of hug she could manage while they sat on the kitchen floor and cried their grief into each other. At last he was done--though she didn't feel quite done yet, but could manage for now--and he noticed her cake. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes, managing a choked laugh.

"Mais oui, but I haven't frosted it yet. I had planned on doing something pretty with it...but that doesn't matter right now." Anne Marie wobbled to her feet and quickly spread the frosting she'd made over the cake, trying to smooth the thick chocolate as much as she could before declaring it done. It wasn't pretty, but it would be delicious. "You do not owe me anything, you know," she said calmly, cutting two very large slices and moving them to plates. Once the slabs were on plates and the brandy poured she led the way in moving to the sitting room. "You had a plan and I agreed to it. We both had our reasons." Sinking less gracefully than usual into an armchair near the fire she took a large bite. With the emotional state she was in, Algie's presence was the only thing keeping her from picking up the cake and eating it with her fingers.

 

[TheCorsair]

Algernon poured two large glasses of the brandy as she cut the cake. "I do owe you something," he insisted. "An apology, and an explanation. I love you, and I know your history. For both reasons, I should have warned you what to expect."

The cake was a delight, moist and rich, but he found he suddenly had little taste for it. "It is just.. I haven't spoken of this since, since before we met. The memory is... painful.."

He sipped the brandy. "I served in the Foreign Office at the time, and had been dispatched to Prague. It was to be a short posting, some three months, so Maggie and I agreed that she would not accompany me. She had a showing, a gallery displaying her watercolors." A faint smile. "Also, and more importantly, she was to defend her thesis on comparative embryonic anatomy in certain species of squamidae. We could hardly ask her to reschedule receiving her Doctorate, and I would be home in time to see it awarded."

He sipped his brandy, needing the distraction as his expression darkened. "Two month after I arrived in Prague, I received a short letter from her. Not one of her regular weekly letters, but a short note hastily dashed off. She had the most extraordinary news, she declared, but would allow it to remain a secret until my return. It was very much like her."

Another sip. "The same day, I received a cable from her mother. She asked if Maggie had come to visit me, as neither family nor friends had seen her in a week and our house in London stood empty."

His voice broke on the last words. Algernon struggled for control for a moment, then stuffed a large bite of cake into his mouth. "This... this is delicious," he said, desperately needing something ordinary ro help him regain his composure.

 

[Madam Mim]

"I should have known what to expect," Anne Marie countered, "or at least have better prepared myself." But she didn't push the subject further. In the back of her mind she noted how strange it was still to hear him tell her she loved him.

She listened calmly and patiently. The cake had turned out well but she ate it almost absently. She needed something to do with her hands and eating was comforting. When he concluded that their house in London had been empty for a week she had difficulty swallowing down her bite of cake.

"Gustav had taken her," she croaked. Algie complimented her cake and she nodded. "Merci. I am glad you like it." After a long pause she swallowed again and added, "I know precisely what comes next. I won't make you relive that part. It is, as you say, painful." She wondered what more there could be to the story. She had gathered that his wife had been taken and tortured, then when her parents had been killed they'd found one another and made a plan. What more could he wish to divulge about Maggie's madness?

 

[TheCorsair]

"I never learned exactly what happened to her," Algernon murmured. "What I surmised was bad enough. I spent nine months searching for her. Nine months of following leads too nebulous to be dignified with the word. Nine months of fear, and agony, and heartbreak."

He sipped his brandy, steeling himself for what came next. "By the time I was able to connect her with one Gustave La Monte, that individual had departed for the Continent some two weeks before. So I summoned the police, utilizing my position with the Foreign Office to impress upon them the seriousness of the situation, and obtained a warrant." A bitter smile. "The forms of kegality must be observed, after all."

The smile faded. "When we entered the townhouse, the police sent me with the party that searched the upper story. In retrospect, I believe they suspected what they would find. She... was in the basement."

More brandy. "When I saw her, an officer had lent her his coat - an impulse to gallantry I am grateful for. She was severely dehydrated, and... and..." His voice broke, requiring several attempts before he could speak. "And, you have an understanding of the injuries she had sustained." He swallowed. "The police were working to remove a chain from her leg, when I saw her."

The hell with moderation, he decided as he drank the rest of the glass and refilled it. "Physical recovery from her deprivation and wounds required several months. But, as you saw, she never fully healed. There was... in addition to the psychological scars, actual physical damage to her brain." He touched the sude of his head. "Here. A blow to the side of the head that fractured her skull and pushed bone into the grey matter."

 

[Madam Mim]

"I will leave you with what you surmised," Anne Marie said softly but firmly. "It is a kindness."

Nine months. She had been married to Gustav for a year, but she had been allowed out of her rooms for social events and occasional exercise. He'd also had to keep up appearances of going about business as usual as a prominent socialite and politician in the parliament. But to have his undivided attention for nine months straight...that was worse than anything she had endured. Tears sprang to her eyes when she imagined the acts that had been performed on her and worse being forced upon that gentle soul. She wiped her eyes, trying not to interrupt Algie's momentum too much. When he mentioned the fracture however her face crumpled.

"Oh Algernon..." Putting down her fork Anne Marie rose from her seat to cross to him and hold him, to press gentle kisses to his cheeks and forehead and lips in a vain effort to try and take away some of his pain. "I'm so...so sorry, mon amour." Taking his face in her hands she tilted it up gently to look at her, eyes shining with tears. "I am grateful, but you do not owe me any of this. Stop when it becomes to much, I beg you."

 

[TheCorsair]

"I owe you this much, and more," Algernon said sadly. "Because I love you, and you deserve to know why I still love another. And because..." Because of what I put you through, in search of revenge. But he lacked the courage to say that.

"There is... one thing more." He sipped his drink, and closed his eyes. "Maggie's 'extraordinary news'. I learned what that was, during my search. She had... had vusited Doctor Arthur Shrewsbury. You won't know him, but he was a gynecologist. In London. Once I presented my credentials, he told me..."

He faltered, then drew a deep breath and took another drink. "Maggie was two months pregnant, it seems. When she was taken. And.. and..." He swallowed more brandy. "There was a corpse in the celler, just beyond her reach. An... infant, aged perhaps two or three months. The cause of death was determined to be starvation."

Anither slow deep, breath. "We talked of children, from time to time, and agreed that we woukd name our furst born for our parents." He sipped his brandy, hoping the alcohol would dull the pain. "My daughter would have been named Helen Rachel Swift."

 

[Madam Mim]

"I know why you still love her, and you have every reason to," Anne Marie insisted, returning to her seat.

When Algie revealed the final horror of his wife's captivity, however, her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with both hands. Her face screwed up with the effort of not bursting into more sobs but tears still leaked and were coming faster with every second. She couldn't imagine the agony he must have been through--they must have been through--and Maggie unable to reach her premature infant crying out for her. And now every time she mentioned Helen he must have...It was too much. She curled her knees to her chest and the dam burst again. Her sobs weren't quite so forceful as before but still there was no stopping the storm.

"I'm so...so...so sorry..." she managed. "He...he didn't like...ch-ch-children...he...I..." There was nothing else she could think to say. She wouldn't tell him about that; this wasn't about her. Eventually Anne Marie regained control of herself and slowly uncurled herself. Tears still came in little bursts but she was able to for the most part dry her eyes. Finally she sat up a little straighter and downed the rest of her brandy, refilling her glass and draining nearly half of it before she spoke again. "I'm so sorry Algie. I...I never knew. I could never have imagined. I knew that he was a monster but I didn't realize he'd have done something like that."

She left her seat again and came to her knees in front of his chair, taking one of his hands with both of hers and kissing it tenderly. "Thank you for trusting me with this," she said solemnly. "I'm certain I'd have gone mad myself, had I been in your position. I don't know how to repay such trust except with keeping this to myself. I will give you any secret you should ask in return, should you wish to know it. But my love...never apologize for loving her. Ever."

 

[TheCorsair]

Algernon Swift was a man if many skills, but comforting a weeping woman - especially a lover - was nit one of them. He was decades out of practice, and all he could do was reach out and grip Anne Marie's hand as she wept. That, and murmur soothing nonsense. "There are reasons," he said numbly, "that I was willing to sacrifice my career to see him destroyed." But the words sounded hollow in the face of her own agony.

The final straw came when she knelt on the floor, thanking him for trusting her and assuring him he should not regret still loving Maggie. "God," he groaned, slipping from his chair to sit next to her. "How... how can you forgive me?" He clutched her hand, ignoring the tears that dripped from his own eyes. "I knew - knew - what he had done. In principal, if not in detail. And yet, I let you go to him. Sent you to him, as my instrument of revenge. Sent you, knowing what he had done to my Maggiem and what he might do to you."

He wiped tears away, onky to find them replaced. "How... how can you bewr the sight of me, love? Knowing what I was willing to inflict on you for revenge?"

 

[Madam Mim]

His career! A deep part of Anne Marie flared in anger and rankled at that, a very deep part which was fundamentally broken never to be repaired. But that was a part of her she never allowed to see the light of day, lest she risk becoming a bitter old dowager with a hatred for all that is good in life. If she allowed that part of her a voice that was what she would become, and if that was what she became then Gustav would have won after all. She refused to let him win. Suppressing that little part of her she leaned her forehead against Algie's when he slid onto the floor next to her, knowing that he was rubbish when it came to comforting people. That was okay; that was her job, anyway.

"I was angry at you for a long time," she admitted with a sniffle. "When I went away to school I wrote you countless letters, accusing you of monstrous things, of having a care for no one but yourself, of..." Anne Marie trailed off and shook her head. In those letters she had accused him of being just as bad as LaMonte had been. Thirteen years wiser, however, she would never hurt him by saying that aloud even if she no longer believed it. No one was the monster he was, especially not her Algie. "Well, considering you never got them you can surmise I never sent them. I've known for quite some time you'd had a wife, though I assumed her dead, and I came to realize that you really were quite mad." She gave him a watery smile and squeezed his hand.

"I forgave you in time," she continued, "because I realized that to not forgive you would be to let him win. To remain angry and hurt, afraid of sex, afraid of men, would be internalizing everything he did to me and letting it shape who I am. Perhaps it did shape who I am..." she mused. "But in spite of him, not because of him. I saw that the Society was good for you, that your madness had passed even if you weren't quite the same man you had been before. So I forgave you. And then I fell in love with you. And how could I hold anything against him whom I love?" Anne Marie leaned in to kiss him gently. "You didn't force me into anything Algie. I knew that I was marrying a murderer and a monster, though perhaps I didn't realize to what depths his depravities plunged quite the way you did. To refuse to love you because of your pain would also be to let him win. And he will never, ever win again." She kissed him again, more deeply this time but tenderly.

"I love you, Algernon Swift," she said firmly, though through her emotion she could barely force her voice above a whisper, "and I'm not going to let that monster come between us. Ever."

 

[TheCorsair]

He could see a flicker of rage at his words, and realized too late that he'd misspoken. But, thankfully, she didn't pursue that rage and merely spoke of her anger. Of letters written and never sent, and of unvoiced accusations. They stung, all the more so because she would have been perfectly within her rights to have done so. "I suppose I was," he confessed. "Mad, I mean. Maddened by grief and hatred. And..."

Then she cut him off, explaining her own realizatiins and why she'd forgiven him in time. And she was certainly right. The Society - his brainchild - had been good for him, even if it hadn't borne the fruits he'd hoped for. Smaller than he had wanted, much more limited in scope than he'd planned, it had still done some good in the world. And somewhere along the way, it had done him goid as well - soothed the madness in him, forced him to see others as people instead of pawns and adversaries once more.

"I love you as well, Anne Marie LaMonte," he said holding her too him. His lips brushed her hair. "And he shan't come between us." He rested his head on hers, enjoying the simple pleasure of her body pressed to his. A small pang of guilt thrilled through him, driven by the thought that his Maggie couldn't - wouldn't - know similar comfort, and he let it mingle with his love for Anne Marie. Because she was right. There was no shame in loving his wife still, or in loving another as well.

Eventually, shifting a little, he reached up and back and found the bottle of brandy. "I'm not a physician," he said, "but I know this has been a long and stressful day. And my solution in the past has been to get roaring drunk." He offered Anne Marie the bottle. "Care to join me?"

 

[Madam Mim]

In such a state of emotional exhaustion and distress Anne Marie was more than happy to get drunk with Algie. She didn't get drunk often; she got tipsy sometimes, but not roaring drunk, as he'd put it. But laying on her back on the floor three bottles later, finding pictures in the plaster patterns on the ceiling, Anne Marie realized that she was very likely roaring drunk.

"J'ai chaud!" she complained as she laid in front of the roaring fire. Instead of moving away she pulled at her blouse and tugged it up. At one point she found herself stuck and laid there giggling uncontrollably for a few minutes before managing to wriggle out of it and tossing it away. "It might...my chemise it...I...I don't want it to prendre feu," she explained as she struggled out of her skirt, not realizing that it might be easier to get off if she undid the buttons. She laid now in front of the fire in a bra, slip, and stockings. She hadn't the first idea where her shoes had gone, as she didn't remember taking them off when they'd come in from the snow.

"Algie," Anne Marie said, looking over had him. "I--pfffft!" She burst into giggles again and it took her quite a while to regain her composure. "Is that why you don't like it?" she asked before realizing that she hadn't followed her train of thought aloud. "Because it sounds like Étang d'étang? Well!" she declared without waiting for an answer. "You are the cutest écume I've ever seen, in any case. And by far the smartest." But she couldn't help but burst into another fit of giggles upon thinking of his name again. When she'd finally gotten a hold of herself she rolled onto her side and looked at him seriously.

"Algernon," she tried again, still heavily slurred. "You...you know I love you non? You are mon âme soeur, ma vie." There didn't seem to be a language Anne Marie wasn't having trouble with. "Am I? Am I votre minette? When you make love to me, is it only to me?" This seemed vitally important to ask, to make sure he understood just how serious she was about him. "Tu es tout por moi." She drained her glass before turning her gaze back to him, tears glittering in her eyes. It seemed to her that at any moment he would declare that this had all been a cruel joke and now she had to leave.

 

[TheCorsair]

He'd probably been this drunk before, at some point in his life. He was certain of it. But, just now, he couldn't remember when. Although to be honest, he was having trouble remembering anything right now. Three bottles of brandy, even split between two people, was a lot of alcohol. Which explained why he was laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling and singing a little off key as Anne Marie wriggled out of her clothes. Some of her clothes, anyway. He sipped from the bottle he held again, brain reeling as he tried to make sense of her question about his name.

"Algernon," she slurred, rolling to look at him. "You...you know I love you non?"

"Oui, yes," he assured her. "Si. Ja, Etiam." He knew he was babbling a little, but what of it?

"You are mon âme soeur, ma vie." This was starting to sound serious, now. With a grunt, he rolled to look at her. "Am I? Am I votre minette? When you make love to me, is it only to me? Tu es tout por moi."

"Who else would I..." he began, before the question really caught up to him. Moving with the careful precision of a genuinely drunk man, he set his bottle down and brushed a tear from her cheek. "Only you," he said. "Yes, I still love my... my Maggie. But when I am with you..? I am with you. Only with you." He tried to lean forward to kiss her, overbalanced, and flopped face-first into the carpet. "And... with the floor..." he managed, pushing until he was facing her again. "Never... never doubt that."

He tried again, one arm awkwardly going around her shoulders for stability as he leaned in and touched her lips with his. "Never."

 

[Madam Mim]

Anne Marie wept quietly, trying clumsily to push away the tears but not quite succeeding as Algie tried to move and process her words. He admitted that he still loved his wife and she realized that she was less okay with that than she had been two hours ago. She tried to take comfort in his assurances that he was only with her, but it was cold comfort. A burst of giggles came through her tears when he fell onto the floor but she sniffled when he righted himself and managed to lean forward to kiss her.

"I take you at your word," she promised, pushing herself up onto her elbow and leaning in and kissing him more heavily than she'd perhaps meant to. "I just...je t'aime tellement and I'm so afraid...I want...non." Anne Marie shook her head and wiped clumsily at her tears again. "I just n'ai pas le droit..." She fell onto her back again and bit her lip, feeling for all the world as though she were falling into a hole filled with nothing but all the sorrows of her life. "Just tell me you love me," she croaked, implying that he ought to even if he didn't mean it. Which was ridiculous of course but in her drunken melancholy she had noticed that he had not returned that she was his soul-mate and was afraid to bring it up again lest she face his rejection.

 

[TheCorsair]

He was woozy and light headed from all the alcohol, but there was a certain quality to Anne Marie's words that caught his attention. A... misery, perhaps? Or sorrow? Something that utterly baffled him for a bit. Idioy, he finally told himself drunkenly. You took your lover to meet your wife. Of course she's upset!

"Anne Marie," he declared, holding a finger up to emphasize his point. Something about that finger distracted him, and he spent a few seconds focusing in hix nail before he remembered he was supposed to be talking. "Anne Marie," he repeated, carefully reaching out and touching her cheek. "I love you. I have waited... years, for you. Years to be... to b..." He fumbeled fir words, then tried a different tack. "Years to admit it."

He scooted a little closer, his hug made slightly awkward by being drunk and lying on the floor. "I... you said 'mon âme soeur', and I, well, I don't believe in a soul, but..." He stopped and shook his head. "I'm very drunk," he declared, and shook his head in an effort to clear it. "Drunk, and makin' a right bloody hash of this." He smiled, and kissed her gently. "I love you, Anne. Have fer a long time, an', an' I want you to stay with me. Forever." He kissed her again. "If I was free to do it, I'd ask you to marry me, Anne. "

Tears glistened in his own eyes, now. "But... but I can't. All... all I can do is, is hope you'll stay with me. Stay with me forever, because, because I love you."

 

[Madam Mim]

Anne Marie curled up into Algie's chest when he hugged her as though she were a child again and he was once again promising to protect her from the world. In a way he was making a similar promise to the woman that child had become. She shuddered as she tried to gain control of those tears; she'd finished crying for that little girl long ago.

"If you were free to do it, I'd say yes." Her voice was muffled in his chest. She heard the tears in his voice and clumsily reached up to wipe at his face, though whether she was successful she wasn't entirely sure. "As it is, I will stay with you for as long as you will keep me in your life." She wrapped her arms around him awkwardly and squeezed as though if she let go she would be cast adrift, never to hold him again.

"I've been waiting...So long to hear such things from you,"she sniffled. "I'm not likely to leave that behind. Ever. I will always love you, and I am forever bound to you Algernon Swift. I swear it." She sniffed again and allowed a choked laugh. "And I'll swear to it when I'm sober, too."

 

[Madam Mim]

Friday
June 18, 1920

She hated this. She hated this with every fiber of her being. She hated this house and everything it represented, she hated the things that happened here, she hated the way it made her feel, and she hated herself for hating it all, even as she tried not to also hate Maggie herself. Anne Marie had several times accompanied Algernon to visit his wife since last winter and each time had ended in tears and liquor and a seething self-hatred for her jealousy of the mad woman. It was heartbreaking to watch what had once been a beautiful, intelligent, talented woman swing wildly between childlike naivete and terror in reliving her torment, with fits and starts of the woman she used to be who understood who Anne Marie was and why she was there. And Algernon clearly still loved her. He had every right to still love his wife and she recognized that, and had told him as much...but it was always difficult to remind herself.

Especially now.

They had never been normal, her and Algie, and she didn't expect them to be now that they were soon to be parents. But normally the announcement of such a thing would precipitate an engagement, announcements, parties, all of the sentimental sop which came with weddings and babies. Anne Marie wasn't the marrying type anyway, and wouldn't have expected Algie to jeopardize their ability to work on the same team even if she were. But it would have been nice if he were free to. It would have been nice to not have to share his affections, to not come away from these outings to his wife's home feeling as though she had to compete for his attention and love. Other women in normal relationships didn't have to tolerate such a thing...but she wasn't other women, nor was this a normal relationship. And so she held Algie's hand as they walked to the door.

"I'm here," she reassured him quietly as they mounted the steps. "And since I will not be able to drink with you this time, we shall have massive quantities of cake." Anne Marie pushed a smile into place as they stepped over the threshold and were greeted by the indefatigable Mrs. Heath.