False Southern Gentility

Christine stared at the wall, unblinking as Christopher gripped onto her hand tightly. "Christopher." Christine said in a strangely steady voice; Christopher looked up. "We've got to go back home, Elizabeth is home alone. I can't leave her alone."

Christopher looked at her, strange and broken. "Who--who is Elizabeth?" he asked. He had the strangest notion that he didn't want to know, if he knew, he would have to be angry with her, and he couldn't be angry now. He needed her the most now, now that Abigail had been buried for the past two days, he needed her the most.

Christine didn't blink again. Her voice was steady, and that is what scared Christopher the most. "Elizabeth is our daughter, and by our I mean, yours and mine." Christopher swallowed an unsteady sound that wallowed in his throat.

"Yours and mine?" he more said this as a statement than if he had asked it, which he did so often.

"Yes, she's two years old now, I don't think I could leave her alone anymore. I need to go home." she said as she pulled the blankets off of her legs and stared at the bandaged wraps around her ankles. "What are those?" she asked as she leaned forward and starting ripping at the bandages.

"Christine, Christine stop. Those are there for your burns--here now, stop that!" he yelled as he grasped her wrists above her head, pinning them down next to her sides. "Now stop that! You see what you've done!? Look, look at them! Are you happy now!" he screamed as he pointed to the blood-stained sheets.

Christine leaned back on the pillows, her head spinning and her ankles throbbing. "No...no I'm not happy...I'll never be happy again." she breathed in a raspy breath and closed her eyes; Christopher closed his eyes and let go of her hands.

"We have a baby. You and I." Christopher said as he leaned back in the dark wooden chair that had been sat beside Christine's bed for the past month.

Christine's eyes remained closed. "I can't leave her alone, Christopher. She's there was a governess, but I can't just leave her alone, I can't let her be alone like Abigail--" a deep sob escaped her lips as Christopher rose from the chair, laid on the beside her, and cradled her head into the eve of his neck.

"If you want to go home, we'll go home. You and I--"he swallowed. "we'll be alright, we always are. You and I were made to face hard times, we don't crumble Christine, we can't crumble. Do you understand that? We're not made to crumble." Christine's tears wet his shirt bosom.

"I want to crumble, Christopher. I'm tired of not crumbling. After a cliff has had chunks carved out of it for so long..." she gripped onto his shirt for dead life, "after pieces are taken out, year after year, there isn't anything left but to crumble."

"You're not going to crumble; I won't let you." he brushed over her dark hair with his hand, breathing in the scent that was her. "I'm here, Christine. I've always been here."

"Christopher, do...do you remember what I told you...what I asked you the...the first night we were married?" Christine breathed in a deep breath that shuddered so badly, Christopher could feel it.

"Yes," he sighed. "I remember. You told me you didn't want to be afraid anymore, and I worked hard not to make you afraid. But no matter what I did, the things that I said, the jewelry I bought, you never gave anything back, never love, nothing. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Christine? I love you, I always have."

As Christopher looked down at Christine, begging the air around him for her response, he realized that she had fallen asleep, and probably not heard a single word that that he had said.

Christine couldn't answer him, she couldn't have. So what if he had told her that he loved her, what if that was just another way for him to control her, another way for him to make sure that he could keep her on his chain. So she pretended to sleep, listening to his quiet sigh as he noticed her closed eyes.

Maybe they were meant to be together, but that didn't mean that they loved each other, they could live together, be happy, never have to involve any of those other fool emotions. So she had been fond of him, if she told herself the truth, she was fond of him now, but she couldn't love him, she couldn't love anything. So she didn't.

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"Are you coming?" Christine asked as she stepped out of the train and into the bright sunlight. "Look, oh Christopher, look there's the Governess, and--" Christine squealed a small quiet sound. "Elizabeth, oh, my baby." Christine said as she lifted the almost two year old little girl into her arms.

Elizabeth smiled as she pulled on the small curls that hung out of the front and back of Christine's bonnet.

"Yes, momma is here." Christine said as she kissed the small head of her little girl. "Mama has missed her girl so very much." Christine said quietly.

Christopher stood behind her, looking over the small figure with sober eyes. Her hair was as black as Christine's, but her eyes, oh they were so much different, her eyes we're a mesmerizing green color. He had no idea where they had come from.

"Is my girl ready to go home?" Christine asked Elizabeth as Elizabeth pulled on the small studded diamonds that sat in the holes in Christine's ears.

Elizabeth nodded as she looked over Christine's shoulder. Her eyes followed Christopher as she pointed to him; Christopher's posture immediately stiffened as he smiled to the little girl.

"Oh," Christine said as she turned around and adjusted Elizabeth on her hip. "this is Christopher. Christopher is your--" she bit into her lip. "this is your father." she said with an overly strong smile.

Elizabeth twisted her mouth from side to side as she moved her head in the most scrutinizing way. Christine looked at Christopher and he looked back at the pair.

"Do we have a house?" Christine asked as she sat Elizabeth onto her feet and adjusted her small dress-length.

"Hm?" Christopher asked; his thoughts seemed lost to him in the face of reality. "Oh, yes, I never really had people living in it, but it's here. Well then, " he said as he swallowed his thoughts and put out his hand to his little girl...his little girl. "shall we be going?"

Elizabeth looked at his hand and raised an eyebrow. "Yes." she said reached out and grasped Christopher's hand in her own tight little grasp; Christopher felt a lump swell in his throat as her fingers wrapped around his hand.

"Oh..." Christopher said as he looked up at the smile that seemed to be permanently stained on Christine's face. "Oh." he said again, for that seemed to be the only word that could escape his lips.

Christine stifled a laugh as she walked towards their large, black carriage, shooing the Governess out of the way. "Alright Christopher, we don't want to talk her ear off." she bit into her lip as she snorted underneath her breath.

"Oh, Madame, le bébé est...Je suis désolé, je suis à votre façon." the Governess rambled out as she backed out of Christine's way and pulled the tall oak door open for the family as Christopher stood, staring as his wife replied.

"Va vous taire, vous êtes commence à monter sur mon dernier nerveuse, Genevieve." Christine rolled her eyes as she licked the front of her teeth.

"What--" Christopher started in a light voice. "What did you--what did she say to you, and you the same?" he asked uncertainly.

Christine laughed. "You didn't know that I spoke French?" she asked as she leaned back into the cushions, observing the strangely alike father and daughter pair.

"No--what did the two of you say to each other?" he asked again, this time far more direct than he had been the first time.

Christine thought on what the two of them had said and then recanted it slowly. "Um...she said 'Oh, ma'am, the baby is...I'm sorry, I am in your way.' She laughed to herself as she looked at the awkward look on Christopher's face.

"And you said, what back to her?" Christopher asked as he patted Elizabeth's small hand as she leaned her small head on his shoulder trustingly.

"Oh, I told her." she bit into her lip. "Um, let me think. 'Will you hush, you're beginning to ride on my last nerve, Genevieve'." She smiled at her own attitude.

"You know, even if you're in a good mood, that attitude of yours just loves to shine through." Christopher said as he tapped on the glass behind his head and spoke to the coachman. "When you reach Dogwood estates, turn right, my home--our house is the very last lot. You won't be able to miss it."

Christine rolled her eyes as she turned her head to the side and looked above her with a disapproving sound. "So we're just supposed to live in your house? What if I don't like it, then what?" she asked in a high-and-mighty tone as she raised her slightly pointed nose into the air.

"Then I'll just knock it down." Christopher said as he looked down onto the tiny Elizabeth with nothing but admiration in his eyes. "We'll knock it down, won't we Elizabeth?" he asked her.

Elizabeth squealed with delight. She clicked her tongue as she mimicked Christopher's sounds as she clapped her hands and jumped quietly as she smiled to her mother. She rocked from side to side and leaned on Christopher's shoulder.

"Yes, we shall surely knock it down if my Elizabeth doesn't like it. Elizabeth will have anything that she likes, she'll have ponies, and ribbons, and bows, and satins, and anything that she will ever want." Christopher rambled on as Christine looked out the small window.

"Is this...are you sure that this is the right neighborhood? The Threadgoods live through here, and so do this Marshlands and..." she swallowed quietly. "how in God's name did they ever let you step foot in this neighborhood, let alone buy a house here?" she asked quietly.

"Hm?" Christopher pretended not to have heard her, just so he could hear her ask it again.

"I said," she raised her voice a pitch higher. "How in God's name did you buy a home in this neighborhood...Christopher, this neighborhood is downright...well, it's respectable. And to be honest honey, well, you're not." she smiled a quaint smile to try and smooth over the insult.

Christopher laughed, the sound echoing off the walls in the small space. "Well, my little piece of porcelain, neither are you." Christine looked aghast. "Come now, you must know that by marrying me, that you ruined any chance of 'respectability' that you could have ever had. But you mustn't worry about that, being respectable has far to many rules that accompany it."

Christine ran her tongue over her top teeth. "I don't think I've ever been so insulted in all of my born days!" she exclaimed as she laid back into her seat and pouted.

"Don't pout, Christine," Christopher said as the carriage gradually slowed. "pouting never did suit your face shape. Your features are to strong to be weakened by that." Christine's expression dropped a notch.

"I was always told that my features were very striking, don't you think so?" she asked oh-to-gracefully. Christopher couldn't help but snicker to himself.

"Of course I find your features striking, why else in God's name would I have ever had married you? I didn't marry you for money, I had and still have enough of that for you and I both. I sure as hell didn't marry you for the fact that I loved you." he laughed aloud again.

"Well, then why did you marry, Mr. Rudd. Please," she said as she threw her hands above her head. "please fulfill me." she said as she licked her teeth.

"Stop licking your teeth like that." Christopher said as she stopped half way through and glared at him. "Now, since you really, really want to know, I'll tell you. The both of you." he said as he kissed the top of Elizabeth's head.

Christine said nothing, but silently thought to herself: "Why in God's name does he have to be so damned observant." this was neither meant to be a question or a statement, it was merely just something she had thought of at the moment.

"I married you, because I couldn't stand having to see your charms in the favors of men that didn't half deserve them." he said with a keen smile; Christine's jaw dropped open a little.

"You--you mean you were jealous--of--of my first," she counted on her fingers quickly, "of my first two husbands?"

Christopher laughed quietly. "I wouldn't say that I was jealous, I would just say...well, I wanted something, and as I'm sure you know by now, I get what I want. I wanted you, and now I have you."

Christine's temper was at it's worst. "You-you arrogant, ignorant, self-absorbed, indecent-" Christopher cut her off.

"Don't tire yourself out, Christine. You're still not well, and sending strong insults at me that don't faze a bit does nothing but weaken you. Quite the opposite effect, eh?" he said with an ingenious smile that could melt even the fiercest of glares that came from Christine.

"You know, you are the most intolerable person in the world!" she exclaimed as she rested her head on the back of the chair tiredly. "But," she swallowed, "you're right, I am tired, but I do like throwing insults at you, whether they work on not." Christopher smiled at that remark.

"It's what you're best at, darling." he said as the footman opened the door and Christopher lifted Elizabeth into his arms, and then sat her down on the ground beside the carriage. "Stay there, I'm going to help momma get out of this thing."

Christine shooed his hands away from her at first in two sharp shooing motions; Christopher did about the same amount of damage she had done in half of a swipe. "Come on, don't be so fidgety." he said as he pulled her to his chest and bent his head low as to not smack himself atop his head.

"I'm just fine to walk, Christopher Jerald Rudd. Contrary to popular belief, I do have legs of my own, and they normally work just fine." she said as she managed to squirm out of Christopher's arms and onto the ground where she swayed unsteadily for a moment or two.

"Let me help you." Christopher said as he put out his arm to her; Christine smacked that away also.

"I don't want your help, I just want to--" her breath caught as she looked up at the whitewash, four story, red and black shuttered house, towering what seemed like a million feet above her head.

"Just want to...?" Christopher asked with a laugh. He had always been so arrogant, and now, he really really loved feeling arrogant for the right reasons!

"Oh, Christopher, just look at it!" Christine exclaimed as she lifted little Elizabeth off her feet and onto her hip; it sat her off balance for a minute and she took a few steps back as she grasped onto the side-paneling of the carriage; Christopher pretended not to notice.

"Oh, you're back, and with another--" Jeanette Threadgood started as Christine turned to face her. "Well I never--" she said as she swallowed uneasily. "So you're the new harlot that this town has been buzzing about." her voice coated her own victory; her eyes did not.

"Harlot, Mrs. Threadgood? I'm married to Christopher, how in heavens name am I a harlot?" she asked with a laughed as she sat Elizabeth back on her feet. Mrs. Threadgood was silent. "What, don't we have some damn--" Christopher cut her off.

"How is Mr. Threadgood doing, Mrs. Threadgood? I hope well." he said as he took the rather surprised Christine by the elbow, "Don't look back, Christine, don't give her the satisfaction." he said through a forced smile.

"The nerve of some people!" Christine grunted as she pulled her arm out of Christopher's grasp. "I've got a good mind to go back there and give her a piece of what I'm chewing on right now!" she mumbled under her breath.

"Don't get your feathers all in a knot, Christine. You know how hard it is to unwind those springs, and I just don't think that I have the energy tonight." Christopher said with a deep smile.

"Christopher, don't be so--" Christine smiled as Christopher's hand slid from her shoulders to the middle of her back. "Elizabeth, why don't you go and play. Christopher," Christine said as she ran her forefinger over the web of his hand. "is there a room for, Elizabeth?" she asked quietly.

Christopher cleared his throat. "Yes, right down that hallway. It was my sisters room, you go on and take a nap, momma and I will come and tuck you in, besides, it's already very very late." Christopher looked down at his pocket-watch. "It's already nine o'clock at night," he looked over to Christine, "I wonder why Jeanette was out on the streets at a time like this?"

Christine swallowed and laughed. "Why should I care--why should we care?" she asked as she looked down the long corridor. "Come along, Elizabeth, momma and father shall put you to bed at once." she said with a quaint smile.

Elizabeth shrugged her overly small shoulders for her age, and grasped her mother's and father's hands in hers. For some reason, the two year old little girl, had the funniest notion in her head as to wonder what her parents were up to.

But it wasn't polite for a little girl to think such thoughts! Why, Ms. Genevieve would have scolded her if she could have heard her thoughts. So Elizabeth, like so many little girls, was put to bed with her suspicions tucked safely away in-between an old rag doll, and the new stuffed bear her daddy had found in the closet.

"I think she's asleep." Christine whispered as she tiptoed out of the small pink and white bedroom. "I can hear her breathing, isn't it just--" as she turned Christopher's face was right in-front of hers, his breath hot on her lips.

"Yes, it is just that." Christopher said as he backed her against the wall and kissed her effortlessly. Christine stood, planted like an oak-tree hit by a surprise weather storm, but, like the oak-tree, it learns very quickly to bend with that storm.

"Oh Christopher, how I've missed you." she whispered into his ear as his mouth fell on her neck in surprisingly forceful motions.

"Don't speak, for once in your scatterbrained life, shut up." he said as he swept his arms beneath her and pulled her feet off of the ground, raising her lips closer to his.

He parted her lips effortlessly, so smoothly she couldn't have even known what he was doing. Though he had been married to this woman for three and a half years, he had only made love to her twice.

Oh, but tonight, tonight that would change. He would love her, love her like she had never dreamed that he could love her. As his fingers wrestled with the complex configuration of the buttons, he soon became irritated and ripped the back apart with two heavy fists.

Christine lay in his arms, her lips craving his with a heat, a passion that she had never known before, never had the courage to experience before, oh, but she was experiencing it now, good Lord was she ever.

His hands, his lips, both, or perhaps it was the unison of the two that stirred such feelings inside of her. As she wrapped her arms around his neck, she found that she was kissing him too, that she had missed his hands on her back and around her waist as they had been so frequently for their first month of marriage.

For now she was back in his favor, and he was back in hers, and they lived to remain in those favors tonight. Tonight there was to be no giving in, no breaking one or the other, tonight there would be not be one 'I love you' muttered in the darkness they were enveloped in.

Tonight they would not only give in, they would rely on each other, no, they wouldn't allow the other to give in, nor would they allow themselves to be given into, they would both bend to each others will, but they'd be damned if they would be broken.

They would answer to the consequences when the dawn tried to peak through their windows, then they would deal with what needed to be said, deal with things that needed to be said, and things that weren't said. For tonight there would only be the two of them, the two of them, a featherbedding mattress and eiderdown quilts made of silk, tonight there would only be the two of them, and the husky breaths in the darkness around them.