Page 13 of The Countess's Awakening (The Lovers’ Arch #3)

CHAPTER 13

“ H ave we received word from Elizabeth?” Esther asked as soon as Wang strode into her room after going to the reception for the third time that day to inquire about their correspondence. When she had not received word from Elizabeth by the second night after she posted the letter, she had begun to fret. Now it was the third night, and still no word. She knew the letter must have reached Elizabeth by the next morning.

There was a ship departing from Liverpool to New York in four days, but Wang was waiting until she received word from Elizabeth to purchase the tickets. Esther wouldn’t leave English shores without her daughter’s blessing. If Elizabeth had the slightest objection, she would remain and attempt her rehabilitation by whatever other means they had available.

The letters to her banker and solicitor had been easy and quick to write. But writing this letter to Elizabeth had been harder than saying goodbye the first time. Before, she only intended to leave for a few days. To a city that was just a few hours away by train. Her daughter could visit her easily, and she could go to London on a whim. Now she was saying goodbye for months. Going to another continent. How will her daughter receive the news? Would she feel abandoned? Betrayed? Hurt?

Although she was doing this for Elizabeth—to be able to better support her—she couldn’t escape the feeling that she was being a terrible mother. Had been for the past six years, since her accident. And now she was planning to leave for an indeterminate amount of time to achieve an uncertain outcome.

“Nothing yet. But it hasn’t been that long.”

“You can go to bed now, Margaret,” Esther said to her maid, and the woman left with a single nod.

“You are upset.” It wasn’t a question. Wang knew her enough by now.

Upset was an understatement. Her body felt tight with pain, mirroring the tension of her anxious mind.

“Elizabeth hasn’t replied. I don’t know if she is upset with me or if there’s something else going on. If we don’t receive a reply by tomorrow, we shall have to go back to London. I should have never left—”

“I’m sure everything is fine, Esther. We would have received notice from Colin or Abigail if something was amiss. Most likely she is busy with her Season’s entertainments and left the letter writing for later, not realizing you would fret.”

Esther shook her head. “I told her to write back at once. That I was waiting for her letter to make a decision. This can only mean that she doesn’t want me to go.”

“It could mean a host of other things. But we shall wait and see. If we miss this ship, there will be others. We won’t leave unless you are thoroughly reassured.”

Esther smiled at him. “Thank you. You are so rational and calm. Whereas I am a ball of nerves.”

She rubbed her neck and stretched her back, trying to ease the tension. But it didn’t help. More proof that she needed Wang’s expertise to get better. At his urging, she had been going to the baths every day with her maid. He said even if he couldn’t be there, she should do the exercises. But without his direction, she was obviously doing it wrong, because her back had not bothered her like this before. Or perhaps her discomfort was due to the tension she had felt these past three days.

“Is your back troubling you?” Wang asked with a frown.

“My back, my neck, my head. Everything aches today.”

“I’ll give you another massage.”

“No, I think I need something more today. Would you be so kind as to hand me my medicine?”

“Your medicine? What medicine?”

“It’s over there, inside the wardrobe. I was going to ask my maid to give it to me, but I forgot.”

Wang crossed over to the wardrobe. “I didn’t know you took any medicine. Why have you not told me this before?”

“It didn’t seem important. I don’t take it often. Only when needed.”

“I have been treating you for weeks. You should have told me.”

Wang’s frown revealed his displeasure. Was she losing his approval, too? Him, her most steadfast champion? Maybe it had been an oversight not to tell him, but she had not thought anything of it.

Then he unstoppered the bottle, smelled the contents, and froze. His gaze snapped to her, and in the brown depths she saw several emotions flash all at once, and none of them good. Alarm, horror, hurt. Devastation.

Oh, the devil take it. What had she done now?

“ W hat is this?” His voice sounded strangled and much too sharp, but there was not a single thing he could do about it. His emotions were in turmoil. Fear and desperation drove him. Not this. Not again.

“Laudanum?”

“And do you know the ingredients of laudanum?”

“Oh!”

He saw the understanding down in her eyes. Esther wasn’t ignorant.

“Oh, indeed. Opium.” God, he sounded like an accuser. When in truth she was a victim. Another victim of this devilish substance.

Why hadn’t it occurred to him she might use it? She had suffered a major accident. Had endured pain without therapy for years. Doctors prescribed laudanum for much less serious conditions.

“But surely it’s not the same,” she explained. “I mean, the doctors prescribed it. It’s a medicine. It’s not as if I’m an opium addict visiting opium dens to get intoxicated.”

“And how do you think most of those addicted to opium started?” At her wide-eyed stare, he continued. “With a dose. In most cases, prescribed by a doctor for a legitimate reason. But then they couldn’t stop.”

“Well, I can stop. I have all but stopped completely. These days I seldom take it.”

He very much doubted it. That’s not how opium consumption worked. “How long have you been taking it?”

“Since my accident. Almost six years ago.”

The answer was like a dagger in his heart. If it had been that long, she was most certainly addicted. He turned away so that she couldn’t see his expression. Couldn’t read in his features how panicked he was.

“In the beginning, I needed it, Kai.” Her placating tone floated from behind him. “It was the only thing that provided relief from unbearable pain. But as the pain decreased, I also started taking less laudanum. I didn’t like the way it made me feel, all drowsy and dazed. I felt like I was fading away, and I feared nothing of myself would remain.”

He had never seen in Esther the symptoms of opium addiction. The constricted pupils, the nervousness, tremors, and erratic behavior. The obsession and vacant gaze of those intoxicated. If she had weaned herself from opium all by herself, while still suffering from pain, she was the strongest woman he had ever known.

“How often do you take it nowadays?”

“Only when needed, when my body is aching and nothing else helps, like today.”

“How often is that?” He turned back to her, pinning her with his stare. He needed precise figures. Frequency. Dosage. Concentration.

“It’s not a regular schedule. Maybe two or three times a month,” she replied, her eyes wide, her shoulders bobbing in a helpless shrug.

“When was the last time you took it?” he shot back.

“I-I don’t remember. It was before we started the therapies. Why all this questioning, Kai? You are acting as if I have committed a crime.”

His eyes slammed shut in shame, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. Esther was in pain and already worried about her daughter and the trip to America. Meanwhile, he was acting like an arse and raising her anxiety. But her answer provided a measure of relief. If she had gone for almost a month without taking it, she may not be addicted. Still, some dependency still existed. If possible, he would like to wean her completely of the evil stuff.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Xiǎo Lù. Please forgive me. It’s no excuse, but you know how I feel about opium. To think that you, someone so dear to me, might have fallen victim to it… I was worried.” What a lame word. He had been terrified.

Her eyes softened, and she raised her arms to invite him to go to her. Which he did. After setting the vial of the odious stuff on the dresser, he went to her and kneeled at her feet, embracing her about the waist. He rested his head on her lap, and her fingers combed gently through his hair, each stroke soothing as though it had the power to brush away his anguish. Why was she comforting him instead of the other way around? He had revealed too much. She had seen the darkness and despair inside him.

“Your feelings about opium, they are more personal than you led me to believe.”

“Yes.” It was useless to deny it now.

“Did you lose a loved one to opium?”

God, how had she known? Like an expert surgeon, she had taken the scalpel and lanced the wound. A wound that had been festering for over twenty years.

He nodded without lifting his head from her lap. “My wife.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath. But her wonderful fingers never stopped their caress.

“Tell me.”

Her soft, compassionate voice must have put a spell on him, for the painful story he had kept locked inside spilled forth with the strength of a volcanic eruption.

“My wife had suffered a miscarriage, and it was so hard on her. I never wanted her to go through that again. I vowed to prevent her from conceiving, and for two years, I was successful. But then she started cajoling and pleading with me to give her another chance. I refused at first, but she insisted. Said the only way for her to get over her loss would be to have a baby. And I gave in. Disregarded every instinct that told me she shouldn’t get pregnant again.

“When she lost her second pregnancy, it was even worse than the first time. She was in so much pain. She cried and begged me to do something. I couldn’t stand to see her suffering. Couldn’t stand her pain. So I gave her some opium. Against my better judgment. I knew the addictive power of the substance. Saw it every day in some of the patients I treated. But full of hubris, I thought I could control her doses. Give her pain relief while preventing her from getting addicted.”

“But that’s not what happened, was it?” Esther asked.

“No. The opium eased her pain—both her physical pain and the pain of loss. But she started craving more after the first dose. As soon as the effect wore off, she demanded more. If I refused, she would go into fits. Crying, cajoling, threatening. When she physically recovered and I tried to wean her, she started going out to obtain it by herself, sometimes through shady means. No matter what I did, how much I tried to help her, she kept using opium in ever-increasing quantities. I decided to take her away from the city. My father had a house in the countryside. There, far from the opium, and with my help, she might have recovered. But I was too slow to act.”

He raised his head, looking at her eyes for a moment.

“I couldn’t just leave and abandon all my patients. I had to transfer them to another doctor. I took a few days to settle my practice. But one day…”

His voice broke, and he took a deep breath, looking away. Unsure if he could tell this part of the story. Esther waited patiently for him to continue. Her hands on him lent him the strength he needed.

“One day, I arrived home and found her dead. I couldn’t revive her. If I had been there… if I had taken her away sooner…” Every muscle in his body tensed, as if to protect him from the memory of his wife lying lifeless in front of him. He re-lived every awful second of the devastating moment.

“I’m so sorry, Kai. I can only imagine how difficult the entire situation must have been for both of you. How painful. I think the emotional pain might have been greater than the physical. But you mustn’t blame yourself.”

He lifted his head from her lap to stare at her.

“Who else am I going to blame? I was the one who got her pregnant. I was the one who gave her the opium. Everything was my fault.”

“She had some say in those decisions. She was an adult.”

He shook his head. “As a doctor, I should have known better. And as a husband, I should have done better. She was mine to protect and care for. And I failed miserably.”

“Oh, Kai. I wish you could see it the way I see it. Wish I could take away your pain. But you won’t believe any words of absolution, will you?”

“I don’t deserve absolution, Esther. Some mistakes are so enormous one must carry them to the grave.”

Compassion shone in her eyes. Looking at him with such sympathy that a knot formed in his throat.

“Is that the reason you left China?”

“Among other things.” He stood and paced to the window, to stare at the dark street outside. “Another reason was the consequences of the war with Britain.”

“Oh, the China War. I read about it in the papers. Something about trade disputes, if I remember correctly.”

Wang gave a dry chuckle. “It was about opium. At least on the Chinese side. The British wanted to abolish the Cohong System. And they got their wish. No matter how much opium they had to smuggle into China, or how many lives they had to ruin.”

“I’m sorry,” Esther said again, apologizing for something that was not her fault. “Oh, how you must hate the British.”

He spun, his gaze colliding with hers. “I don’t. At least not anymore. At the time, I was crazed with anger. I hated the English, yes. But I also came to hate the Chinese government. The Emperor. That’s why I had to leave.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My father was the Hoppo appointed to Canton. That’s the person in charge of enforcing the Cohong System. He oversaw Canton’s foreign trade and reported directly to the emperor. It was a position of great prestige, and he had served faithfully his entire life. But he could not prevent or contain the opium trade. After the war, the Emperor blamed him for China’s loss, even though it wasn’t his fault. They punished him. Stripped him of his position. He fell ill and died in a matter of months. I believe the humiliation killed him. That happened soon after I lost my wife. In a matter of months, I lost…everyone.”

“Oh, good God, Kai. You had no more family? What about your mother? Do you have any siblings?”

“No. My mother passed away when I was little.” He met her gaze square on. “In childbirth. She never had a successful pregnancy besides me. My father didn’t remarry, so for most of my life it was just him and me, until I married.”

She said nothing. And really, what was there to say? But her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand. He wanted to comfort her—or take comfort; he wasn’t sure—but refrained. She didn’t need the extra burden of his crazed emotions.

“No wonder you looked relieved when I told you I was past my childbearing years.”

He nodded. “That was the best news you could have given me. I never want to put another woman through that, Esther. There must be something wrong with my seed. Maybe I inherited it from my father. My mother died in childbirth. And I visited a similar fate upon my wife. I don’t want to be responsible for the death of another woman.”

Another woman he loved.

The air seemed to freeze in his lungs as the words whispered through his brain. Was he in love with her? He thought himself incapable of the emotion any longer. Had successfully avoided it for over two decades. And yet… He checked. Tested it in his heart. It felt right. Inevitable. He had been falling in love with Esther, a bit at a time, from the moment he had met her. Her delicate beauty that bore pain with such stoicism and grace had captivated him.

The truth of his feelings was so big, burned so clear, that he almost declared it, but caught himself just in time. He couldn’t burden her with his feelings. She might not reciprocate them. Her priority was—as should be—getting well to help her daughter. And she was a countess, for goodness’ sake. Even if she had feelings for him, what could he possibly offer her? No, his feelings must remain a secret. The best gift he could give her was to help her recover and then fade out of her life so she could fly unfettered.

And him? He would have the memory of this time with her—the best time of his life—to warm his heart for the rest of his life.

“Take me to bed, Kai. Please.” Her soft voice almost startled him, as lost as he was in his thoughts.

He strode towards her, lifting her in his arms, and carried her the few steps to her bed. But when he would have turned away, she held onto his hand. “Lie with me.”

He shook his head. “You are in pain, and I…”

He was in pain as well, although of a different kind.

“Not to make love. Just to hold each other. I think we both need comfort.”

Unable to resist the invitation, he removed his coat, waistcoat, and tie, then slid next to her. She turned to him, placing a hand on his chest, and something snapped inside, a need to hold her so deep it was almost violent.

Turning to her, he hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her to him across the expanse of the bed that separated them, inserting his leg between hers, hooking her leg over his hip, sliding his hands over her back as he buried his face in the sweetness of her neck.

She responded in kind, sliding her hand under his shirt to map his back with possessive caresses. The warmth of her touch on his bare skin was a balm that seeped all the way to his soul.

For the moment, desire was banked. Never entirely gone around her, just biding its time. But this closeness, the sheer wonder of her acceptance, the solace she offered, was as sublime as the throes of passion.