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Chapter 8

Chapter 8

One Glance

"Lies require commitment." Veronica Roth, Divergent

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Chapter Eight

Over the next fortnight, Luke fell into a deep depression. Isabella could not understand it. She had long moved on from the fact that Jamie had been hurt. Jamie certainly was not holding any grudges.

Isabella supposed that she was used to Jamie grizzling over some injury or another from time to time, but that did not explain Luke's severe reaction to dropping their son.

She understood his reluctance to even see Jamie the day afterwards. He was nervous. It was to be expected.

But it had been two weeks. Luke had not left his bedroom. He barely ate one meal a day, and he had not shaved.

What frightened Isabella the most was that Luke was rejecting Mary's care. Isabella never thought that she would wish that her husband would seek help from another woman but she did.

Isabella waited outside Luke's bedroom on the fourteenth day of Luke's melancholy behaviour. Mary had entered the bedroom only moments before with a dinner tray. Luke was quick to dismiss her, and Mary exited a few minutes later.

Mary appeared just as bewildered and frustrated as Isabella felt.

Despite their unfriendly start, Isabella and Mary had become unlikely allies.

"Is he going to eat his dinner?" Isabella asked Mary.

Mary met Isabella's eyes with a disappointed expression. "I have never treated a patient like Captain Cassidy before. He was so strong in the beginning, and now he is the opposite. It is like everything that has happened to him in the last few months had finally taken its toll."

"Do you think we ought to encourage him to spend some time with Jamie again?" suggested Isabella. "Jamie had quite forgotten that he was ever hurt. He is not angry."

"I only just asked him," replied Mary. She sighed, frustrated. "He is determined to be alone."

"Mary, tell me, have any of your blind patients ever developed melancholia before?" Isabella asked fearfully. From what she had heard about the condition, Luke's behaviour seemed to correlate.

Melancholia. It all seemed surreal. Only a few years ago she was a silly sixteen year old girl, ignorantly wanting for nothing thanks to her wealthy brother-in-law, and she did not have a care in the world.

Now she was married to a blind man who seemed to be determined to reject any form of help, she had a son who was constantly confused by his father's behaviour, and she had no idea what her life was going to be like a year from now.

Meanwhile, down the corridor, her sister was raising a perfect family. It was not right to envy, but how Isabella did. She envied Annaliese greatly. How desperately she wanted to enjoy the simple things with her family.

It would be nice to eat breakfast together in the morning. It would be nice to enjoy an afternoon walk together. Luke could carry Jamie on his shoulders. She was sure that Jamie would enjoy that.

What was worse was that November was coming to an end. Christmas was around the corner. Jamie had not experienced Christmas with his father before. Isabella had always imagined that their first Christmas as a family would be a magical one.

"Not in my experience, but it is not unheard of," confessed Mary worriedly.

Isabella sighed sadly. "You should have known him before. He was so charming and ... suave."

"Suave?" repeated Mary. "He always seems so serious and mature."

Isabella could not help but let out a laugh at an embarrassing pitch. "He was the very opposite of serious and mature when we met. He was just as silly as I was." Isabella nostalgically recalled their first kiss. Luke had kissed her while she had playfully taunted her liquorice stick at him. That story would remain a secret though. That was a special memory.

"It is hard to imagine Captain Cassidy that way."

It was hard now, despite the flicker of the old Luke that Isabella had witnessed a few weeks ago.

"I have been thinking of writing Luke's doctor in London," said Isabella, deciding in that moment that she would write him. Perhaps she would invite him to visit in the New Year. She did not think that she would be able to convince Luke to journey to London, but at least the doctor, who would be familiar with Luke's condition, might be able to give her some advice.

Much to Isabella's surprise, Mary's eyes widened and she could have sworn that she heard a small gasp. "His doctor?" she repeated.

Isabella nodded. "Yes, his doctor," she said slowly. "His doctor can give me information about melancholia and what to do if this is the case. I would also like to know more about his condition, to be honest."

"What can the doctor tell you that I cannot?" she asked quickly. "I have been with Captain Cassidy since he was brought to the hospital unconscious. I know his condition."

This reaction was not one that Isabella had been expecting. "Forgive me, Mary, but I would like to have a conversation with my husband's doctor. I am not doubting your care, but I do believe that Luke may need a serious medical intervention if I do not do something for him. Believe me, I am the last person who wants to see my husband sent away for treatment but what am I to do?" Isabella could not imagine anything worse than one of those madhouses, and she would do everything in her power to prevent an asylum from being an option.

"Have faith in my judgement," insisted Mary. "Captain Cassidy did throughout his treatment in London. He communicated through me, same as the doctor brought me the necessary information to communicate to Captain Cassidy. I know everything that there is to know about his condition, Mrs Cassidy. There is no need to write a letter to his doctor."

Every so often, Isabella thought Mary to be very odd. Sometimes she would say things that did not seem to be what she meant. Perhaps they were double entendres. Perhaps Isabella was imagining things. But this was odd.

Isabella felt guilty for wanting the advice of one with a university degree, and she would never say that to Mary for fear of offending her, but she wanted a proper diagnosis for her husband.

"If you say so, Mary," Isabella lied, wanting to end the heated discussion. Any pride that Mary had over being Luke's caretaker meant nothing to Isabella. She would be writing to the doctor anyway.

Mary smiled, and she appeared relieved. Was she afraid of losing her job?

"Go and have some dinner yourself, Mary. I suppose we shall try again tomorrow," Isabella said kindly.

Mary nodded and departed the hallway, slipping inside the servants' doorway.

Isabella left to go downstairs to the drawing room where she knew her family would be sitting after dinner. They were all scattered about the drawing room enjoying various supper treats. All the children were in bed except for Georgiana. Georgiana, at thirteen, was convinced that she was one of the adults. She used the evening time to practice on the pianoforte.

Annaliese, Matthew, and Helena were all engaged in deep conversation. If melancholia was catching, Isabella would have sworn that Luke had passed it on to Helena. The poor woman looked dreadful. For one who always smiled and remained in good spirits, Helena had been very down in the dumps over the last month.

Luke was her favourite son. Helena did not deny it, and Matthew did not mind it. Of course Helena loved Matthew very much, but he had always been independent. Luke had depended more on his mother and that was what Helena had loved.

Isabella wished that she could capture her mother-in-law's heartbroken face in this moment and show it to Luke. But that was impossible in more ways than one. Did Luke even think of what he was doing to his poor mother?

Isabella sat down beside Eleanor, not doubt interrupting a conversation between her and Commander Lockwood.

Isabella was sure that Commander Lockwood remained at Cassidy House out of pity and obligation. He was certainly not staying because of their merry attitudes. Isabella had not spoken to the man very much at all. Her mind had been elsewhere. But he did seem like a gentleman, and anyone who could put up with such a gloomy family ought to be a very decent man indeed.

"How goes the Captain?" asked Commander Lockwood, no doubt already knowing the answer.

"The same," replied Isabella sadly.

Eleanor smiled at her sister and took her hand. "It will get better, Isabella. You and Luke are not deserving of sad lives. In fact, Commander Lockwood was just telling me some of the stories from the seas. In my opinion, Luke ought to be rewarded."

Commander Lockwood nodded as Isabella smiled fondly.

"I never saw a leader like your husband, Mrs Cassidy. He could be so cheerful and entertaining with the crew, and then calm and gallant under the pressure of battle. His leadership saved me more times than one. I do hope that brings you some comfort."

"It does," Isabella said truthfully. "Luke was always very proud of his position in the Navy. I am proud of what he achieved."

"He spoke of you often, Mrs Cassidy," continued Commander Lockwood.

Isabella arched her eyebrows. "He did?"

Commander Lockwood nodded. "Yes, very often. You are every bit as beautiful as he described," he stated simply.

Isabella blushed. "I am sure he was kind to me."

Commander Lockwood shook his head. "No, it is the truth. I recall him telling me, over a little rum, I might add, that he had managed to find an angel on earth. He told me that he had never really been a Godly man, but only God could have made a woman like his wife. He told me you were beautiful, inside and out."

Isabella willed herself not to cry. Luke had really spoken of her like that? He loved her that much.

"He loves you, Mrs Cassidy. He hung on every word you wrote him. Never doubt that."

Isabella did not doubt it. But would he ever say it again?

Commander Lockwood changed the subject. "We played this game on board whenever there was a lull in our duties ... or an absence of enemy ships. We all disclosed what we were going to do when the war was over."

Sadly, Isabella began to picture dozens of homesick soldiers. She was very grateful for what those brave men gave for their country.

"Our answers were always the same. We knew each other's word for word, but it was still nice to talk about what life was going to be like after the war," he explained.

"I cannot imagine this was what you had in mind," Isabella said apologetically.

"No, not exactly," he replied. "But our Captain kept us safe over the years. The least I can do is keep you all company until he is on the mend."

"What did you want to do after the war, Commander?" asked Eleanor curiously.

Isabella could have sworn that she saw Commander Lockwood blush ever so slightly.

He laughed nervously. "Well, a few years ago I was courting a young lady. Her name was Lizzie. I did not have a farthing to my name at the time and her parents did not approve. I proposed to her anyway. Silly me thought that fortune did not matter, but to Lizzie, it did. I thought she would wait for me while I worked for my fortune in the Navy, but I saw the marriage announcement in the newspaper while I was on leave."

Poor Commander Lockwood. Isabella felt terribly for him. Here she was, seeking sympathy, when the poor man was nursing a broken heart.

"Do not pity me. I had planned my revenge," he chuckled. "I was going to buy the largest house in her county and I was going to marry a woman twice as pretty as she was."

"Was?" prompted Eleanor.

"Well, it all seems a bit petty now, what with Captain Cassidy's condition. How can I fulfil my wish when my Captain cannot fulfil his?"

"What was Luke's wish?" Isabella wondered.

Commander Lockwood met Isabella's eyes sadly. "One glance of his son, Mrs Cassidy. That was what he wanted."

Isabella's tears betrayed her. One after the other, they spilled over her eyelids and fell down her cheeks. "I do not know how to help him. I do not know how to fix him," she whispered.

Eleanor put a comforting arm around Isabella, not knowing what to say.

Isabella looked back up at Commander Lockwood, who was looking at her sympathetically. "Commander, do you know of any reason why Mary would not want me to contact Luke's doctor in London?"

Commander Lockwood pursed his lips. "I suppose Mary was a bit funny when it came to the good doctor's visits. She liked to relay the information. She seemed to think that it would benefit Luke if the information regarding his condition came from a nurturing woman rather than a stern man." He paused and thought for a moment. "Come to think of it, I cannot actually remember Captain Cassidy and Doctor ... what was his name? I think his name was Wilmington. Yes, Wilmington. I cannot actually remember Captain Cassidy and Doctor Wilmington ever having a conversation about his condition. He simply operated and Mary took over from there, communicating to him what he needed to know."

That seemed very odd, indeed. What kind of surgeon allowed a nurse to talk for him? What if she had accidentally been mistaken about anything?

"Excuse me," Isabella said as she stood up. "I have a letter to write."

----

Hope you liked it!

Okay - begin your theories ..... NOW!

Sorry about the wait on this one. Been working like crazy, and rosters came out for next week. You should see my Wednesday shifts. Yes, shiftSSSS. I'm opening at 7am and finishing at 12pm, then coming back at 5pm and working till 10. Kill me. Have to think of the $$$$ though.

I would have uploaded yesterday but I did not have a good day, hence my depressing Instagram lol. After a year and a half of putting it off, I finally told my dad I didn't want to be a psychologist anymore. I just know it's not for me, as I'm too empathetic and I cry at the drop of a hat.

Safe to say it did not go well. I couldn't even get out that I want to be a primary school teacher. I managed to tell him that I'm doing a Master's in Education for the next two years and he told me I was being stupid in prolonging my education when I should just do my honours year and be a psychologist and live the lifestyle I want. Our views on the ideal lifestyle differ very much. I'm happy having enough money to go to the movies with my friends every so often. I'm not materialistic. I buy my clothes from Kmart. I'm thrifty :P

I started to cry on the phone (and I HATE crying in front of him) and he asked me why I was upset (why do you think?) and I stupidly said I was disappointed in myself. I don't know why I said that. I'm not. I have a degree and I'm going to do something that I'm passionate about.

I don't say it very often but I am proud of myself.

And I feel I can tell you guys this because you all give me so much support. I think of you all as my friends. You guys read my stories which read like my diary. I think I can be honest ;)

I was watching the movie "Blended" earlier and there was this line that really stuck with me. "You've got to show up for your kids. It should be boring how reliable your parents are.". It should be.

I'm lucky. I've got one :) Here's to my mum. I texted her from work the other day and I was stressing that I'd only made $21 in two hours. I said if she could get down here and spend some money so I don't look like a total failure that would save my life. 10 minutes later she walks in the door and spends $100. She shows up for me. It's boring how reliable she is. And I love it.

I salute all the single mothers out there. You're doing an awesome job.

Okay, enough from me! Vote and comment!

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