It took all the strength Benjamin had to continue to read. So much pain filled the pages. The needling of guilt began to grow. He knew most of what ails her he is responsible for, perhaps almost completely responsible for.
He remembered the day they realized she was with child. The joy in his heart had overwhelmed him. He never believed children would be a part of his life but then again he never believed love would either.
Clara had a way of bringing him the unexpected, making the ideas take root. Soon he'd find he cannot live without them, but it would seem fate intervened, and she miscarried. Watching the pain, the torment of her heart, tore him apart.
Still, she begged him not to give up, to keep trying. He had out of love for her but they were denied time and time again. Benjamin couldn't help but wonder if this was some sort of punishment for his sins.
Clara never gave up, relentless in her pursuit. She wanted this, a child, a family more than anything in her life. She begged him again. He did not give in though he hated the distance it drove between them.
"Please, Benjamin," she'd softly cry and her heart's desire he could not deny, and then it happened. She carried to term. Those days were some of the best of his life. He not only had the promise of a child but his wife had returned to him. Clara positively glowed. Her joy spilled over, even his staff were affected, the entire house was a jubilant place to be.
Benjamin spent days creating the perfect nursery. He refused to let her see it. Working in secrecy, locking the door behind him. He didn't even give in when she'd pout. "You have given me so much, Clara. Let this be my gift to you."
Benjamin didn't need to say more but he never did get to open that door. The labor pains began late at night. He set out at a fast and furious pace to retrieve the doctor. The screams, the blood, the horror, the doctor demanded someone take him from the room. His child born dead, Clara's life hung by a thread, so tenuous how could it not break?
It took three men to drag him from the room. Somehow she survived, but the event led to their inevitable doom. He buried his child outside the family chapel, a simple marker for the grave, for one Grace Molly McAllister born and died that cold winter day.
The dirt wasn't even cleaned from his hands when a messenger showed up with the King's demand. How could he leave her? Not now? But one does not deny the King of England, Benjamin had to go, he had no choice.
Clara didn't say a word when he told her. Just rolled over in the fetal position in bed clutching a pillow to her chest, knowing she is left to face the pain of life alone. "Clara, please understand, if there was another way..."
Clara refused to look at him. "Just go." Benjamin stroked her hair. He kissed her temple. Praying to God she'd one day forgive him though he knew not how?
He'd always return to her but Clara was now broken. Soon she started to ask again. Benjamin could not - would not put her and him through such torture again. He refused to risk her life but he could not deny her either. She needed to know she was trying.
He had a plan but it would seem it had backfired. She took this trip to India to be fixed wishing to be made whole. If she fails to do so, she all but told him she would not be returning home. Benjamin had to reach Clara before she did anything rash.
Was it already too late? No, he could not think about such things. They only served to cloud his judgment and he must make a plan to get her back at any cost.
It would take another few weeks before he reached India, thanks to the Intel he gleaned from the Whispering Wind's carpenter; he learned the port they planned to enter. This would save him so much time as there were so many ports along the coast where the ship could dock. It may have taken him months to discover the right one. The merchantmen may even have left before he even got the chance to discover her on board.
He folded the letter and placed it back in his pocket. He now knew she did not leave him because she did not love him, but because she felt unworthy. The thought did not console him, but only served to increase his desperation of finding her, he must. He must find her and he must beg for her forgiveness.
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Sturgis, Clara, and Lord Fitton had begun this journey together. The hardest part of that journey had been the first week when their bodies were being cleansed of impurities. They were all grateful it was finally over. Sturgis described the effect of going through the process as taking the worst illness he's ever experienced and multiplying it by ten.
It was not an over-exaggeration. Panchakarma treatments are not meant for the faint of heart. He found some were quite enjoyable like the Abhyanga a prepared herbal- oil massage designed to deeply penetrate the skin, relax the mind, break down impurities, and reenergize the body's natural ability to take in nutrients required to heal internally.
Or the Swedana an herbalized steam bath, during which the head and the heart are kept cool while the body is heated to remove mental, emotional, and physical toxins lodged deep within the tissues. The cool head and heart provide a sense of calm and openness while the therapeutic steam over the entire body penetrates and cleanses deeply, without overheating and causing the body stress.
Each session, however, ended with the Basti and herbal enema that was used to flush out the impurities loosened by the day's treatments, which could also at times induced vomiting. Yet this was considered the most important and powerful part of the treatment in returning one back to balance.
Such treatments left Clara feeling weak. Her physicians felt her issues with her infertility lie more in her emotional and mental imbalances than physical and as the Master had warned her these are often times the most difficult to heal as there needs to be a wiliness to let go of the pain one has experienced.
Lord Fitton joined her one afternoon in the meditative garden. Clara smiled as he approached. "I see you are taking to these treatments much better than I."
Aaron smiled back at her. "I must admit by your appearance it would seem to be true."
Clara looked so worn out. She had lost even more weight and she did not have much to lose. Still, he could see the determination and hope in her eyes that what she was physically enduring would all be worth it in the end.
Clara thought Lord Fitton positively glowed. If it were possible Aaron became younger since his treatments here. He began to shine with a vitality that seemed muted before, and Clara was grateful that this experience turned out to be good for him, especially because he only agreed to do so for her sake.
"How is young Sturgis fairing?" Lord Fitton asked, taking a seat next to Clara on the stone bench in the garden.
Clara was transformed before his very eyes. She lit up from within. "He's already showing improvement." Clara could not wait to impart this news. "It's only been two weeks Aaron and already he can discern shapes in the darkness. He said it's like seeing people through a mist or fog, but this morning, he knew it was me when I entered the room just by my shadow. He said, "I have a very distinctive silhouette."
Clara giggled, figuring she must, as she does not dress like anyone else that resides here. Aaron took hold of her hand. "That is remarkable news."
However, if he were honest he cared more for it because of the way it affected her. These treatments have been so hard on Clara. There were times he would hear her cry out in agony while they worked on her, especially during the Abhyanga massage, as they tried to release the emotional trauma trapped in her body.
He could not help but wonder all she had been through. After, Clara would spend entire evenings writing in her journal, declining to talk to anyone, wanting to keep to herself in her room. Sturgis and he were both scared for her.
"Any news when your escort might arrive?" Clara inquired, curious about how much time they may have left at the Center.
Lord Fitton shook his head no. "I seriously doubt I will get any word until he arrives since by this time he'll be en route."
That made sense but Clara wished there was a way to gage time. She couldn't even say if the treatments were helpful. Clara certainly didn't feel any different. She has been exploring her own mind more, becoming reflective, writing down her thoughts. Her inspiration has definitely increased being in this place.
She could not remember the last time she felt inspired to write a story but now she wrote with a flourish that just won't stop. Getting that one part of herself back felt incredibly good.
"Clara even if I must leave, I am certain they would let you stay on here. I will leave you and Sturgis enough funds to carry on and return home."
"Oh no please, Aaron. You've done so much already."
He covered the hand he held with his other hand. His gaze was direct. "It has already been arranged, Clara. I will not leave you and Sturgis stranded. I have come to love you both, too much."
"I am so very grateful to have met you, Aaron. I don't think I would have made it this far without you."
Lord Fitton embraced her and she let him, it felt good. She pulled away and he pulled out his kerchief and dabbed at her tears. "Come now, we've done enough of this, have we not?"
A wistful smile graced her lips. "We have indeed."