"A Native American elder once described his own inner struggles in this manner: Inside of me there are two dogs. One of the dogs is mean and evil. The other dog is good. The mean dog fights the good dog all the time. When asked which dog wins, he reflected for a moment and replied, The one I feed the most." George Bernard Shaw

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VI.

Alex was not ignorant of the risk that Susanna had taken in leaving her house to meet him that night. But all of the women had been aware of the risk, and they engaged with him willingly. Alex was not exactly certain why his appearance had such an effect.

His best guess was that it was the lure of the forbidden. It was enticing enough to attract a woman into a lustful tryst. Susanna, Alex presumed, was no different.

Even now, with only the light of the streetlamps for visibility, he could see the eager blush in her cheeks. She was innocent and excitable. Like many of the Englishwomen he had met, she was no doubt naïve and did not think of the consequences of merely walking with a man of his appearance, let alone pursuing a romance.

As they walked, Susanna was quiet, and spying her with a glance, Alex could see that she had begun nervously chewing on her bottom lip. She wouldn't speak, and so Alex knew that he needed to make her feel comfortable. He needed to gain her trust. As the very thought crossed his mind, he pushed any guilt aside.

Flattery, Alex decided, was the easiest route. "Forgive me, my lady, but how are you unmarried? How has some fortunate fool not managed to sweep you off of your feet?"

Though his comment was meant to settle her, Alex was genuinely curious. Susanna was absolutely beautiful. Any idiot could see that. Her beauty alone could secure her a husband, but coupled with her wealth? She ought to have been snapped up the moment she stepped foot in town. This was, Alex supposed, why Len felt so genuinely giddy at the prospect of Alex seducing Susanna Beresford. Opportunities with heiresses did not come along every day.

Susanna nervously laughed. "You are bold, Mr Whitfield," she replied. "Though my mother often ponders the same question."

There was annoyance in her tone. Susanna didn't like to be pressured, Alex observed. He also observed that she did not answer the question. It only piqued Alex's curiosity.

"I am honest," he replied simply, and he felt his stomach contort at such a boldface lie. Alex had been honest. He had been honest and decent, true-hearted, even in the face of monumental cruelty. If he spent too long thinking about what he had become, then he would not be able to continue.

Alex focussed himself. The flattery had not settled her as he had hoped, as he still saw that she was looking to the ground bashfully as they walked. "Do you get along with your mother?" he asked instead.

Susanna chuckled, though not as nervously. "I might give you a different answer to that question depending on the day you ask. For the most part, yes," she replied, "but my mother can be a very demanding, very narrow-minded person. She whole-heartedly believes that she knows what is best for everyone."

When Alex thought of the very regal looking duchess he had met, he believed that Susanna's description fit her perfectly. She was entirely focussed on ensuring her daughter remained just as perfect and amiable as she was the day she was born.

"What is your mother like?" Susanna then asked.

The question caught Alex off guard, to the point where he inhaled such sharp breath that he began to choke on it. Alex balled one of his hands into a fist and hit his chest as Susanna reached out her hands to assist him, though pulling them back before she came into contact with him. Alex had regained some of his breath as he saw Susanna do this, and he felt like wincing as he saw Susanna's hesitation to touch him.

It was natural, normal even, for white people be wary of black people. When he was a boy, he had once heard a master tell his son not to touch his kind for fear their colour was catching. It was taught bias. But Alex didn't want Susanna to possess this bias.

"Forgive me," Alex murmured. "My mother ... Maman ..." When Alex thought of his mother, he felt all manner of anguish and pain. He couldn't know if she was even still alive. Alex prayed for her, and he had to believe she was. If there was a God, he would protect his mother. "My maman is the bravest woman I have ever known," Alex replied sincerely.

"What is her name?" Susanna asked tenderly, her tone a little startling.

The question itself was startling also. No one had ever asked after his mother before. Nobody had cared to. Len certainly knew of his mother, but never spoke of her, though Alex knew Len was not the sort to worry himself over people other than himself. But the women he had known, the women he had spent time with, had never asked him a personal question beyond his name.

The tenderness in Susanna's voice was odd because he could tell that she was genuinely curious to know. Why?

"Her name is Amélie Archambeau," replied Alex, uttering her name out loud for the first time in a long time.

"What a beautiful name," Susanna noted softly.

"It fits a beautiful woman," replied Alex.

Susanna smiled at Alex, and he was taken aback by the radiant sincerity she displayed. So much so that he nearly walked into a lamp post for staring down at her. Alex quickly caught himself, avoiding the collision.

Alex then realised that in sharing such a detail with her, in sharing the name of his mother, Susanna's nerves had settled, and she had become more open to him. Flattery would not work with her, but sincerity?

A foul taste settled on the back of Alex's tongue at the very notion of using his dear maman as a tool. It was too wicked.

"And does your mother remain in Saint-Domingue?" Susanna queried.

Lord, Alex prayed she did. "Yes," he confirmed. "She remains in Haiti."

Susanna's eyes softened, their blue hue appearing near violet in the lamplight. "Oh, how you must miss her."

Alex wanted to say that he did. He wanted to tell Susanna of his mother, of what she had done, and how she had kept them both alive. But he clamped his teeth firmly shut, refusing to allow those words to escape. No. It was too great a sin, and his number was already up.

At that moment, the sounds of horse hooves trotting down the stone road alerted them both to on oncoming carriage. A hackney, Alex recalled Len telling him. Susanna gasped and instinctively reached out for Alex, her soft hand catching his.

Alex's own breath caught in his throat as he looked down at their suddenly intertwined hands, the contrast in their colours so apparent. He had only thought moments ago that she was afraid to touch him, but she had been the one to reach for him. But then, Alex realised, she was afraid. Alex swiftly moved Susanna behind him, his sheer size enough to completely conceal her from the view of the hackney driver. Susanna released his hand, and he felt her hold onto the back of his coat with her fists. His heart began to thunder when he then felt Susanna's forehead rest against his spine.

The hackney passed without so much as a pause and then it disappeared around the corner. When the coast was clear, Susanna reappeared at his side, her hand on her chest as though she was trying to slow her heart.

"Oh, my goodness," she whispered. "What if they had seen me, recognised me?" Susanna spoke more to herself than to Alex. "You fool, Susanna!"

Alex couldn't help but wish that they had. That way this whole charade would be over that much more quickly, and he wouldn't need to hurt her any more than he already would be. As he looked down on Susanna, he could see the stress on her face, and that foul taste returned to his mouth.

Why was this already so different? Normally he could disconnect. He could stop himself from feeling by distracting himself with his goal. But in the short time he had known Susanna Beresford, he had felt more guilt than he had in all the time he'd been in England.

"Oh, Mr Whitfield, forgive me, I fear I have just been terribly rude," Susanna said suddenly, shocking Alex once again. "It is not at all that I should not like to be seen with you, it is that I should not like to be seen at all for the pain it would cause my mother." Susanna placed a reassuring hand on his forearm briefly, before her hand quickly returned to her side and her cheeks flushed with colour.

Alex decided then that there had to be something quite wrong with Susanna Beresford. He had now lost count of the number of times she had apologised to him. She was not ashamed to be seen with him. He had not hallucinated that. She had said those words. What on earth sort of breed was she?

"I would understand," Alex replied without know what words were coming. "I would understand if you did not want to be seen with me."

What would she say? He had to know. He had to know what this woman thought of him.

Would she react normally? Would she be fearful of him? Would she be suspicious? Would she perceive him as a threat? Would she see him as ... as a lesser being?

Or would she surprise him?

Every ounce of his being prayed for the latter without any idea of the lack of sense in the notion.

Susanna, bless her innocent, naïve heart, appeared horrified in response to Alex's statement. "No," she rasped. "No, please, it is not that. You cannot know how I desire to be more worldly, to understand the human experience beyond this." Susanna lifted her arms and gestured to the empty street around her. "Please," she said again. "It is not that."

And Alex believed her. He had never heard such words from a white man or woman before. He had never known compassion or understanding, or even a person willing to show any sort of respect for him as a fellow man, a fellow human being. He was so used to this that Alex was numb to it. But this was something new altogether. It was enough to feel as though his veins were on fire underneath his skin.

"Allow me to walk you home," Alex finally uttered.

"I am sorry," Susanna insisted.

"Believe me, my lady, you have nothing to be sorry about," Alex promised her, and Susanna would have no idea how right he was.

Susanna smiled at him, relief in her eyes, as they both turned back towards her Mayfair home. "I can't believe I thought I could be brave for a minute," Susanna muttered, her voice filled with disappointment.

Alex quickly decided that she was quite possibly the bravest white woman he had ever met. And the kindest. And the purest, and the most beautiful, and every other virtue there was. "You are more worldly than you think, my lady," promised Alex.

Susanna eyes softened gratefully. "I am sorry to have wasted your evening, Mr Whitfield."

Alex didn't even know how to comprehend the fact that this evening was quite quickly becoming one of the favourites of his existence. "You haven't wasted my evening, my lady," Alex assured her.

Alex and Susanna walked in comfortable silence until they reached the home that sat next to Ashwood Place. Susanna made sure her hood was securely over her head as she turned to look up at him.

Her lips parted as she searched for words and he saw a flash of sorrowful longing in her eyes.

Alex had a job to do. He needed to arrange another meeting. He needed to become close to her. He believed he had Susanna's trust, and that was gained entirely by sincere means. But that didn't make what he needed to do any less horrible.

He wished it wasn't her. He wished it didn't have to be her. Why couldn't she be a vapid heiress? Why couldn't her head be filled with hot air, so much so that a few compliments and a kiss in view of her mother would do the job nicely? Alex knew that not even a woman like that deserved to have her heart toyed with, but he knew it would feel like a capital crime to injure Susanna.

"Will I see you again?" Alex forced himself to ask the question.

It clearly caught her off guard as her eyes widened. "The season is nearly over," replied Susanna. "I am going home soon, to Hertfordshire."

Hertfordshire. She would be safe there.

He would fail. Alex decided right then and there that he would fail. There would be another way, another woman, one who didn't make him feel like this. He hadn't forgotten his purpose, he hadn't forgotten his goal, but he couldn't do this to her. He couldn't ruin her. There needed to be more women like her in this world, and Alex couldn't destroy her.

"Then I suppose this is where I say adieu, my lady," Alex bid, capturing her hand as he placed the softest of kisses on her knuckles.

And then Susanna spoke to him. She breathed her words in French as she uttered, "J'espere vous revoir bientot."

Alex couldn't help but smile as Susanna turned on her heel and hurried through the gate of her house. Despite everything, she wanted to see him again. Alex walked forward carefully to make sure that Susanna had safely reached her door. When he saw the last of her cloak disappear inside, Alex knew that this would be the last time that he would see her.

And into the darkness, he murmured, "C'est pour ton bien."

---

The last phrase is "It's for your own good" :) However, I'm wondering if this will REALLY be the last time they see each other .. lol

I am so sorry for the wait! I know I missed our usual time last Saturday. If you didn't see my post on my message board, I hurt my back at work last Friday, and I couldn't sit up straight without extreme pain. It's still bugging me a little but no where near as bad. 

Thank you all so much for your lovely messages! I honestly always feel so supported by you all and you don't know the affect you have on me!

So, what's been happening this last fortnight? 

Ummm, I was not so subtly asked by my extended family if I was a lesbian as I have neither married nor procreated as yet. I was talking about how being gay was definitely not a choice as no one would choose to be attracted to men (save for the few good ones!) and then they asked XD Sorry, I just don't bring home the people I see lol. No earthly desire to get married and involve the government in a relationship for a piece of paper and I have too much to freaking to before procreating like having my twenties. 

What is it with families? Of all the grandchildren my age, I am the only one with a university degree (three of them in fact) and working full time in my chosen career. I'm the only one who's travelled extensively. But I'm not married/mothering snot-goblins and that means I'm missing something? I love cuddling my niece and nephew but the minute I smell a nappy I palm them off to their mother and I just love that.  

So yes, that's been bugging me lately lol. Can't we just appreciate independent women who are successful and happy by themselves? Women don't need husbands and kids to be fulfilled. 

I have kids, anyway. 20 of them. The last thing I want to come home to is more kids hahaha

In other news, I had a haircut! And by cut, I mean I lost 50cm (20 inches) of hair! I donated my second lot of hair and now have short hair and it's insane. I never knew you could brush hair so quickly. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I will see you again next Saturday xxx

(School holidays are coming by the way - which means more frequent updates!)

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