Sharing Corrie

Chapter Twenty Nine

 Edwin cleared his throat and began,

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."

As he finished the poem, wild applause broke through the room and Corrie felt her face heat, but not from embarrassment. He had just recited one of her favorite poems, "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, passing it off as his own. What she had at first thought the most romantic gesture she now saw as an insult to her profession and to the poetry that she so loved. The breathtaking poem seemed tarnished by his grandiose recital.

Before Corrie could recover from her speechlessness, Edwin pulled her by the hand to her feet and kissed her on the cheek with a broad smile. His gaze seemed to demand her adulation, but she could give him nothing but dismay. She would rather he have written her a few terribly penned lines than do this.

She had no time to berate him as the meal was served and they were both caught up in receiving the well wishes and acclamations of their guests. A few asked how she liked the poem and Corrie was forced to smile and offer bland praise. How could he?

When Dr. Benjamin approached, Corrie felt her face burn. Certainly he recognized the acclaimed poem, and he must perceive Edwin's affections as false since he could not even summon his own original words to praise her.

"Dr. Benjamin, thank you so much for coming. I hope you'll excuse my earlier disapprobation; I meant nothing by it," Edwin declared as he shook the doctor's hand.

A mischievous light twinkled in the doctor's sapphire eyes. "All is forgiven for the sake of Miss Walker. I was quite impressed by your poem, however. I'm something of an amateur connoisseur of poetry myself, and I was astounded by that beautiful sonnet you put together. It was really quite breathtaking; I've never heard anything like it. And to think that you yourself wrote it; I had no idea you were such a talent."

Edwin's cheeks turned crimson at the implication in the doctor's words though he was too polite to overtly voice his accusation. "Oh, yes, well," he stuttered, "it was all for Miss Walker, you understand."

"Oh, of course. Miss Walker does deserve a man who can so aptly put genuine feelings to paper," Dr. Benjamin continued and Corrie stifled a laugh.

Edwin faltered. "Are you accusing me of something?"

Dr. Benjamin's face became serious, his brows drawn and mouth downturned. Corrie felt her stomach twist inside of her. "Mr. McAlister, I truly believe that Miss Walker deserves every happiness, and I am ashamed that you had to stoop so low as to copy a poem to voice your feelings. I would have thought it would be much easier to articulate her worth than to lower yourself to such levels."

The blush in Edwin's cheeks transformed to rage as he balled his fists, not daring to confront the larger man. "How dare you!" he exclaimed, shouldering his way past the doctor and fleeing towards the door.

Corrie was left standing alone with the doctor at a loss for how to respond. Certainly Edwin deserved the rebuke, but why had Dr. Benjamin been the one to give it?