Captive Magics

6 - Intentional Mistakes

It was a clear and bright morning, still too cold to swim in the open without turning blue but a hint that spring was on its way. The chill wind from the night previous had given way to promisingly warm breezes, and despite a threat of rain later the sun was out. A very pleasant day to wait under the holm oak by Garriote Street chapel and fool oneself into thinking it was spring already. The bay gelding Leander had hired, unaware he was soon expected to carry five grown men a substantial distance, stood resting one hind leg. He snoozed with his nose in a nosebag, sleeping deeply enough not to react when Leander scratched his head and moved around to check everything was packed. Both the gig and pony had been offered for hire for a full week, the best he could get at short notice, and Leander had accepted readily. He was sure he'd find some other uses for it besides shifting himself and his friends.

Eight forty-five passed, then at nine he got up from the boundary wall to wait on foot and stood for a while looking up and down the road. It became clear, as he waited by the exceptionally pretty chapel, that he should not have waited as long as he had, for he had now been waiting half an hour beyond their planned meeting time. An hour passed, and then an hour and a half, and then the hand on his watch was moving undeniably towards the two-hour mark, and still they did not show. Why did they not show?

There was certainly an explanation, one that didn't include them secretly despising him. Certainly an explanation. Yes. Perhaps they had forgotten. Perhaps they were still drunk from last night or drank heavily again this morning. Most likely there had been a mix up about where they were to meet him, then they would surely be along soon because one of them would remember correctly. Unless he had told them the wrong place? No, he hadn't. He definitely had not. Or rather, he thought he possibly hadn't. Really, it could have been anything, anything at all.

For a while longer he stood, trying to remember where they were staying to see what the delay was, but he'd never been told an address. Perhaps the club was the place to try. He unhitched the placid gelding and removed the nosebag just as the public omnibus clattered past. On the open top deck was a cluster of army uniforms which seemed to fill the benches, the only other occupants being a middle-aged man and two young women who coldly faced the other way. The army men were in high spirits, laughing uproariously and passing around a brandy bottle, and as Leander recognised his friends and straightened to wave and call out, he heard Trenthurst shouting "only the brave fighters!" to much jocular applause. The omnibus, the noisy captains and the other unimpressed occupants of the top deck were gone before Leander had time to process this, and he stood and stared blankly at the street.

Groups walked the pavements around him, families and friends, people who buzzed with conversation and smiled and laughed while Leander stood silently at the nose of the gelding. He was the only person alone, and despite being a tall man with a horse and gig which took up all of his corner, he was entirely unnoticed. To everyone else he could have been part of the inanimate scenery of the street. As rigid as the gateposts next to him, deeply mired in horrible thoughts about himself. His quiet, cataclysmic revelation was known only to him, despite its enormity. Despite the fact he would never be the same again after it.

It was at that moment that Leander's eyes, looking about without really seeing, fell upon a woman who happened to glance, smiling, across the road towards the pretty church behind him. Leander blinked, the woman had turned her head away again just as he realised it was Miss Harper. The red hair was difficult to see below her hat, but the sympathetic face was unmistakable, and he felt surging relief at her kindness. But she had rejected him. It was so difficult to reconcile those two things.

Leander got in the gig and drove home. And when he was home he got out a bottle of brandy and thought in circles as he drank.

It had taken some time and careful recording but he had, by now, a detailed schedule of Elspeth Harper's movements in his notebook after weeks of watching and leaving gifts. Spontaneous though he had initially thought it, eventually a pattern of sorts had emerged and he felt confident of her comings and goings on certain days. She tended to arrive at Number Fourteen very late on Wednesdays, so wearing a rough set of clothes he normally kept unused in a drawer for heavy work he took the gig to Upper Church Street and waited. He was now fuming with anger, mainly at her, and determined to prove himself. Why, in heaven's name, didn't he deserve her? He loved her. It was more than enough.

Her hansom pulled up as it always did only five minutes later than he had predicted, and she stood fumbling with her bag and umbrella again as it pulled away. This was his moment.

Leander had run at her silently and caught her before she noticed she was not alone in the street. She resisted, kicking out, and they struggled for a moment.

"You're coming with me," he snarled.

"Get off me! Unhand me now!" she slapped him and he pulled her by both wrists towards the gig. Somehow one of her hands must have got free; there was a crack as the umbrella hit him sharply over the head, and he blinked away stars. He grunted and grabbed her bodily, intending to throw her over his shoulder.

"Take your hands off me," she said in a voice of ice. He ignored her and began to lift.

She said something he couldn't quite make out, a dark and unintelligible word, and suddenly he was thrown against the ground in a daze. Miss Harper stood poised several feet away.

"Just leave me alone," she told him flatly, picking up her dropped umbrella.

"Never," he snapped. Coldly watching him like a large mammal which might suddenly bolt and trample her, she took a measured step towards her door.

"Did I not make it clear? I don't want you, or your little gifts."

"You will love me. I swear, you will learn to love me." He hauled himself unsteadily to his feet.

"You're clearly intoxicated, which I must say I find disgusting. Go away now, and I won't-" she began, then her eyes widened as Leander ran at her. What happened next was too quick for him to remember later. The umbrella fell to the ground with a clatter and her hands rose palms out. Though drunk, he was strong and fast. She couldn't stand a chance.

The world flared painfully before his eyes and before he could register shock his vision went dark.

He knew no more.