The Life and Love of William Elford Leach

Italy looked like a dream as it peeked over the skyline, just barely visible over the mast of the massive cargo ship. It truly was a beautiful country, and I have longed to visit it for so long, yet I could never have dared to make this voyage until now. I wish I could say it was a pleasant trip. I wish I could say I was filled with immense joy at the sight of it. I wish I could say I was happy. But alas, the light had gone out of my life. For there, in some small and remote village on the countryside, in some cramped and dusty bedroom, on some oversized mattress, the love of my life lay dead. Because of me. I turned my wedding band over and over on my finger until the skin beneath it was red and sore. My husband always told me that I needed to knock that habit because it made me less desirable if I couldn’t sit still. My husband, back in America. I never wanted to go back to America, but I wished I was anywhere but alone in Italy. As I walked up the steps to the pier, my legs turned to jelly, and I lost my balance. I nearly toppled over to the railing, but a strong and thickly calloused pair of hands steadied me around my shoulders. "Easy there, miss. Wouldn't want you to get all wet, now, would we?” the sailor seemed to snicker at me. He looked me up and down twice, looking like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone. "A kind thank you, sir, and good day to you,” I tipped my hat and gave a slight curtsy as I continued up the steps, feeling him staring at me. When I got to the landing, I suddenly felt one strong and calloused hand slide up from my back to the nape of my neck, and there was a cool, metallic pressure at my throat. I was being robbed at the edge of a knife. "Okay little lady, just give me all the gold you've got, you filthy American,” he sneered with a heavy Scottish lilt that was not there before. I tried to scream out for help, but no one heard. People all around me were unloading freight or walking about on the pier, but each one who saw me simply looked away. I didn't think. In one swift movement, I dug the heel of my boot into the flesh of his canvas-covered foot, and I turned fast, away from the blade, and hit him upside the head with my parasol as hard as I could. He was stunned, and simply lay on the ground. I wrestled the knife from his hand and held it to his throat. "Try to tell an American woman that she is filthy. This is what it will get you every time.” I stood, threw the blade in the sea, adjusted my skirts and my hat, unfolded my parasol and walked up to the street where a carriage was waiting for me. I looked back to see the sailor still laying there, too stunned to move. The ride couldn't have been more than a couple of hours, maybe even less, but it felt like an eternity. However, when the carriage pulled up to the immaculate mansion, I suddenly wished I could ride in the back of that coach for the rest of eternity. The last thing I ever wanted to do was go into that terrible building. When the coach driver opened the door and the daylight poured into the cramped cabin, I simply burst into tears. The driver stepped to the side and held out his hand, patiently waiting for me to exit the coach. Once I regained my composure, I took his hand, and he escorted me to the door before returning to his horse and buggy. When Jane opened the door, I began sobbing uncontrollably. Jane and I had grown very close over the years. She was like the sister that I could never possibly have. I met Jane Leach when I was in school. My father was a wealthy Quaker man, which meant he could afford to send me to an all-girls academy in Wales. There, I met Jane Leach, and we were instantly the best of friends. We were roommates, and we did everything together, no matter how dreadful the elegance and academic lessons were. Every night that we were together, Jane and I would stare at the ceiling and daydream to each other until we fell asleep. Her dreams were usually about Prince Charming and far-fetched romances, while mine were practical life goals, like having a career and seeing the world. I once told her that I wanted to fall in love, too. At first she was shocked, but then she asked me who I wanted to fall in love with. I didn't miss a beat before I told her, quite plainly, “I never want to love a man if he is not your brother William.” She turned to face me, and, with a gentle smile, said “Oh, darling Caroline, you know William will never let romance get in the way of his studies.” "Yes, of course, I know. Goodnight Jane,” I tried to hide my tears from her until we were both asleep. I could not have tried to hide my tears that morning on Jane's doorstep in San Sebastiano Curone, Italy. Jane and I embraced, and very unladylike sobs racked our bodies. William Elford Leach had died, and with him went all my happiness.