Chapter 15

Benjamin

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life, that word is Love."― Sophocles

October, 1865

"Papa!" Benjamin watched as his brother, Daniel, embraced their father. Beside them, Bella sobbed in her mother's arms. His brother and sister, together with his cousin Grace and her family, had arrived only a few moments ago, having made the journey from England. Nearly five years had passed since they had last seen each other, so the reunion was an emotional one. All around him, people were embracing, crying, exclaiming while he stood, a little removed from it all.

Just then, Daniel looked up and caught his eye. They exchanged a long, silent stare. There was love in that stare, but also anger and frustration. Daniel's eyes missed nothing as he noted the changes in his brother, his lips pursing into a grim line. His all-seeing gaze took in the scar, the lines of pain and fatigue, the salt-and-pepper beard.

Benjamin's stare was no less angry. His lips curled as he studied his immaculately dressed brother, hair fashionably styled, face as handsome as ever. This was not the face of someone who had witnessed the charge after a battle cry, the howls of pain, the blood, the acrid smell of death. This was not the face of someone who had shivered from cold under a flimsy tent at night and woken to a miserable breakfast of hard tack and bitter coffee.

Next moment, Daniel stood before him. A moment later, he had clasped him in his arms, without a word. Benjamin accepted the embrace, even returned it with a clasp of his own arms around his brother. He breathed in Daniel's expensive cologne, and beneath that, the familiar scent of his childhood playmate. Memories flooded him of days spent tussling in the grass, playing pranks, riding their first horse, Daniel coaching him in the art of seduction. Though he still felt resentment, Benjamin gave in momentarily to the joy of being reunited with his brother again.

The next hours were a blur, as around him the Stantons tried to catch up on all that had happened during five years of separation. They sat together for a celebratory meal, talking rapidly, wiping the tears, smiling wide. Benjamin joined in as best he could, but by the early afternoon, he could take no more. Without a word, he slipped out of the house and went to the stable to saddle up his horse. Soon, he was galloping away, letting the wind brush his heated face.

He rode with a destination in mind, taking the south-eastern fork off the main road, then turning left and negotiating the muddy track a further mile south until he reached a copse of pine trees bordering a gently flowing stream. On the other side of the stream was a small meadow, in the middle of which stood a ramshackle cabin. He stopped and dismounted, tethering his horse to a nearby tree, then walked around the cabin, surveying the space. Eventually, he perched himself on the front steps, took out a pencil and sheet of paper, and began to sketch.

The sound of hooves had him look up from his work some minutes later. A lone rider approached on his horse, halted and jumped down, then walked over to him.

"I thought I would find you here," said Daniel conversationally. "Pa told me you had purchased old Jim Shaw's cabin with the money you inherited from Grandpa." He came to sit beside his brother, glancing at the drawing Benjamin had made. "What are you going to do with it? Live the hermit life like him?"

"The idea holds some appeal," responded Benjamin wryly.

Daniel pulled the sheet of paper towards him and examined it more closely. "Are these your plans for rebuilding the cabin?"

"Just some initial ideas."

His brother pointed to something on the drawing. "What's this?"

"A large rectangular barn," Benjamin replied. "I'm thinking of using it as an engineering workshop where I can design and tinker with machinery."

Daniel nodded, scrutinising the landscape around him. "It's good land. There's water, a steady supply of wood, green pasture for your cattle. I always thought old Jim could have made a lot more out of this place."

"We'll see if I can do any better. I've a great deal of work to do—knock the cabin down, dig the foundations and rebuild. I don't know how much I'll get done before the snow comes this winter."

Daniel turned his gaze towards his brother. "I can help you," he stated.

Benjamin snorted. "And ruin those perfectly groomed hands, viscount? I think not."

His brother's eyes narrowed. Without a word, he stood and walked along the porch to pick up the axe that was leaning against the wall of the cabin. "We better get started if we want to get anything done before dark," was all he said.

Two hours later, both brothers had worked up a fine sweat and demolished a good third of the cabin's structure. They would have continued, but a glance at the sun low on the horizon told them there was only a half-hour at most before it would get dark. Reluctantly, they put down their tools, wiped the sweat from their brows and returned to their horses. They rode home without a word, each of them deep in thought.

Back at the house, they were welcomed with a hot bath and a hearty meal, the rest of the family wisely refraining from questioning either brother about where they had been. Benjamin excused himself early and went up to his room, still not feeling up to the task of being sociable. He had just pulled off his shoes when there came a knock at the door. "Come in!" he called, suppressing a sigh of annoyance. The door swung open and in walked Daniel. "What now?" grumbled Benjamin.

Daniel bit out a laugh. "Don't worry, princess. I've not come to intrude on your sanctuary. I came to give you this." In his hand, he held a thick envelope. "It's from Sarah," he said, placing it on the bedside table, adding, "Do you know, Benjamin, how envious I felt every time letters came from you, a single sheet with sparse information addressed to me or Bella, and a bulging envelope for Sarah. I was reduced to begging her for news of you because my own brother shut me out of his confidence." He caught the momentary concern on Benjamin's face and huffed, "Fear not. She did not betray your confidence, though she did explain why you could not always be forthright with me. Steadfastly loyal, that girl. I like her."

A thrill had coursed through Benjamin's veins at the sight of Sarah's letter, but he replied coolly, "Hardly a girl. She's a mature woman of thirty." He paused, then asked the burning question, "Has she married?"

"No," Daniel said with a smirk. "Still very single and yours for the taking, only you'd have to come to England for her."

"It's not what you think, idiot. We are just friends." Though in his heart, Benjamin was not truly convinced of this statement. Daniel's words had lit a small spark of hope that perhaps there could be more to this friendship than an exchange of letters across the ocean.

"Of course," Daniel said with a mocking inclination of his head. "Just friends. Enjoy your letter." Then he turned around and left Benjamin alone in his room.

As soon as the door had shut, Benjamin pounced on the envelope. With hands that shook, he broke the seal and took out the folded sheets of paper. He went to sit by the fireplace and began to read.

16th September, 1865

My dearest friend Benjamin,

I cannot tell you with what joy I heard the news of your safe return to Ohio. It was like a weight that had pressed on my chest for so long was finally lifted and I could breathe again. For years I have lived through worry that the next communication from America would be the news I so dreaded hearing. And now the war is over and you are back home safe. Oh the sweet relief!

Dearest friend, I have read your letters and re-read them. They are among my most treasured possessions. I kept them all safe, apart from that one letter you asked me to burn, which I did. I have chafed at my inability to write to you in return, and now that I am finally able to, I do not know where to start. How do I summarise the four years since my last letter to you? I am well, in good health, though now an old maid, having passed the great age of thirty. I still live at Ivy Cottage with Ambrose, who continues to manage the Stanton estate. In many respects, not much has changed for me, except I have grown older.

I have deepened my acquaintance with your siblings, who have extended their friendship to me and Ambrose. I have grown close to Daniel and Isabella, enjoying their company, partly for their own sakes, but mostly because they are your family. Every time they quote their beloved classical philosophers, I think of you encouraging me to seize the day. Oftentimes, I catch a look or an expression on their faces that reminds me of you, and it makes my heart leap.

It is a strange thing, Benjamin, this friendship of ours. How can it be that we are so far apart, have spent so few hours in each other's company, and yet we know each other so well? Your words, dear friend, are seared into my soul. Through your eyes, I have seen the world beyond my small village of Stanton Harcourt and borne witness to this dreadful war. Through you, I have learned of what happens between men and women behind closed doors. I may be an old spinster maid with no experience of men, but through you I have lived.

Shall I tell you of the fevered imaginings I have at night, all from you, and the physical joy I feel as I touch myself, thinking of you? It is as if I live two lives. In the day, I am a prim and proper spinster maid. At night, I am a brazen hussy with craven desires. I lie naked in my bed and imagine myself with you. I am the whore who lets you use her body and comforts you when you are in pain. I am the comely maid you have a quick fumble with in a darkened alley. I am the sultry widow who splays her legs for your delectation of her cunt. I am all those things. Nobody seeing me at night or reading these words would ever believe they came from me, staid and proper Miss Cranshaw. It is only you that knows this, you that created this hungering need in me.

When I heard that Daniel and Bella were travelling to see you in America, I felt envy. I wished for a moment that it could be me, coming to see you. Will we ever meet again, do you think? Most likely we are not destined to. It would be strange and disconcerting to come face to face with you after all the intimacies we have shared. Maybe the very reason why we can be this honest with one another is that we are so far apart. Could we be so open with one another in person? Probably not. And yet I also long to see you in the flesh, to look into your dark eyes and hear your voice. I want to hold you in my embrace and whisper in your ear that you are not alone, dear friend. I am with you, no matter how far I am. I have felt your loneliness in the letters that you have sent. Now you have family and loved ones around you, I hope you are not so alone anymore. But whatever the case, know that I am always with you, your friend for eternity.

In time, dear Benjamin, you will meet a good woman and marry. You will have children of your own and a successful career as an engineer. I pray that you will have all these things, even if it will mean an end to this honest discourse between us—for your wife would not want you to share details of your intimate life with another. I will remain your friend throughout whatever the case may be. I pray for your happiness and an end to your sorrow.

As for me… well do not be surprised to hear that I continue to admire Mr Templeton from afar, although not so afar, as today I had an interesting contretemps with him. I was walking to Gorston Manor, where I tutor two young ladies, Misses Rosemary and Fanny Collins, and took a shortcut through the woods that belong to Squire Johnson. To my horror, I found a young boy caught in the snare of a man trap. It had snapped around his foot and imprisoned him to the chain tied around a tree trunk. The poor boy was in pain, having fractured a bone in his foot as he fell. Immediately, I rushed out onto the lane, intent on getting to Gorston Manor and seeking help there. Instead, I was accosted by Mr Templeton on his mount. I waved to him to stop and explained the situation. He went to the boy and rescued him heroically with me at his side.

Later in the day, he paid me a visit at Ivy Cottage to tell me how the boy, Mattie, had fared at Dr Benson's. I think Mr Templeton was quite impressed with my level headedness and quick thinking in the midst of an emergency. He called me an intrepid female and a most capable person. I wonder, perhaps, if he is finally beginning to notice me. He is still a bachelor, you know. Tonight, I do not think I will be able to sleep for all the excitement of the day. First, my encounter with Mr Templeton and then, the wondrous news of your return. My heart overflowed with happy relief, and I cried so long that poor Ambrose's jacket was quite soaked with my tears.

And now, I have this strange feeling that all is about to change in my life, which so long has been the same. It is illogical, to be sure, but I cannot shake the feeling—and in some roundabout way, it is tied to you. Now you are back home and sure to resume the course of your life that was cruelly interrupted by war, it will not be long, I suspect, before you come into your own and marry. And this too may be my cue to end the years of spinsterhood and find conjugal felicity at last—with Mr Templeton perhaps? Maybe that is too far-fetched of a dream, but we shall have to see.

Life is good here. I have Ambrose, always a dear brother and friend. I have my dreams of Mr Templeton. I have my pursuits—I shall have you know that the miniature railway you started for me is coming along swimmingly. And of course, best of all, I have you, dearest Benjamin, my most intimate friend. I could not wish for more except to hear of your happiness. Write soon and tell me your news.

Your true friend,

Sarah

Benjamin read and re-read the letter. It brought about in him a feeling of elation, excitement and anxiety, this last as he read of Sarah's latest encounter with Mr Templeton. What if it was true and the cad had finally taken notice of his Sarah? That could not be borne.

He washed and undressed, then got under the covers in bed, his mind in disarray, a strange tight clutching at his chest. His Sarah. That was how he thought of her. She was his. Only he knew her trusted secrets. Only she was privy to every private facet of his life. He could not lose her, and certainly not to that rogue, Mr Templeton. In that instant, a certainty pierced his heart that Sarah was destined to marry no one but himself. What was it Daniel had said? Still very single and yours for the taking, only you'd have to come to England for her. Of course, that was what he had to do. Go fetch his girl before she was taken from him for good.