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“Now, listen here! You are not here looking after these lunatics—” There were no more words, but Julie felt the tension crackling in the air, and then the click of the lock on the door behind her.
Julie stretched her arm toward Mary, but the latter flinched away.
“Go away,” Mary repeated quietly, looking like a wounded animal.
“Leave.” Julie heard her husband’s authoritative voice close behind her and saw the large orderlies scatter away from him. Next, she watched in astonishment as Clydesdale crouched beside Mary on the dirty floor.
“Mary, my name is Robert.” He looked straight into her eyes. Mary regarded him warily. “Has this place been awful for you?” he asked gently.
Mary nodded her answer. A wretched sob escaped Julie; she covered her mouth with her hand.
“I know you don’t want to go with your sister, but you don’t want to stay here, do you?”
Mary shook her head.
“How about you come with me then?” He carefully reached out a hand to her. “I have an enormous house,” he coaxed. “A beautiful garden, and there’s a river running close to the house.”
Tears streaked Julie’s cheeks, unbidden. Mary looked at Clydesdale with almost worshipful eyes. She’d always enjoyed meeting new people. Julie remembered how gleeful she would be to meet someone new; she’d always give them a hug and chatter away about anything. Now, she was regarding him in half fear, half hope.What had they done to her here?
“You have horsies?” Mary furrowed her brows.
Robert looked at Julie uncertainly until she gave him a brief nod.
“I do.” Robert nodded in affirmation.
“I want to ride,” Mary said, still frowning.
“You will ride them, yes,” he answered and smiled at her reassuringly. “Will you come with me?” he repeated his question, his hand still outstretched.
Mary placed both her hands in his huge one, and he tugged her up. Then, to Julie’s amazement, he laid a protective hand over her shoulders and squeezed her tighter to him before walking toward the exit of the asylum. He looked at Julie over his shoulder to make sure she followed them out.
Julie’s tears dried in astonishment. She strolled behind her husband and her sister, unable to believe the last ten minutes of her life. After five long years, to reunite with her sister and discover her in such a pitiful condition. If only she had known the reality of her situation here, she would have married at the first opportunity and tried to get her out. This was a useless train of thought; she shook herself lightly. Besides, no other man who offered her marriage over the past years would have gone as far as Clydesdale had to get Mary.
She knew those men well; even if they got her out, they would have treated her abominably. But Clydesdale—the way he coaxed her into coming with him, the way he hugged the dirty, bedraggled little girl who was condemned by her own father to the lunatic asylum—told her everything she needed to know about her husband. She was no longer fearful for her future or that of her sister’s. He was heaven-sent.
