Memory's Embrace
“Jessup was gone, Emma was gone. Both of them dead, though Emma did not rest here in the churchyard, like her father.There had been a wire—from somewhere. Where? Oh, yes. Portland. Emma was in Portland, married. Happy.That was a lie, of course. Emma was dead, just as Jessup was dead. And it was all the fault of one man, one evil, despoiling man.Cornelia tilted back her head, searched the bright April sky for a sign from God. Seeing none, she wrapped her spring cloak tighter around her thin frame.... Jessup, Jessup—such a generous, kind husband he had been. “Choose any cloak you like, my love,” he’d said. “Choose any cloak in the catalogue.”She shivered, though it wasn’t cold. She was not a strong woman, like Derora Beauchamp or her niece, Tess—no. Cornelia could not survive without her man, and she hadn’t the spirit to find another.Soon enough, she would rest here, beside Jessup, her own grave freshly mounded, like his. But first—first there was one thing to do.She looked up at the sky again.MoreLess
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