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"Really, Emma, calm down!" Helena
laughed, watching the beautiful young woman across from her sigh. "Just
pretend he's not here . . .
we'll be leaving soon anyway." Emma shifted her fork restlessly from
one hand to the next, picking at her food with such disdain that Helena
herself
had begun to loose appetite.
"Just think of the wonderful news you father has to relay, would you rather he had kept this to himself until after the wedding?"
"Of course not! I am so grateful
for the board's reinstatement; Henry may finally be able to regain the
confidence he's lost. His health has
improved so drastically in these passed few weeks, yet his soul is
still troubled." She smiled, as though recalling a pleasant memory, and
then her face
twisted once again in the grimace of a disappointed angel. "Oh Helena
. . . he's so close! When we parted yesterday he would give me nothing
but a
kiss on the cheek . . . he insisted on saving the romance for "You
may kiss the bride." Oh what torture I've endured these last twenty-four
hours! My
heart beats like a rabbit with a fox on it's tail at the mere thought
of being Mrs. Henry Jekyll, and now my love dines in this very house!"
She stood,
but then quickly sat again, across from her dear friend. The two had
grown much closer in the weeks Henry had made himself scarce, and Helena
knew that Emma's troubles stemmed from anxiety over the wedding . .
. not actual anger at her fiancee. In the months she had known Emma, Helena
had never heard the woman speak harshly of her love . . . and she had
learned to live with the pain this happiness brought her. They made such
a
beautiful couple-Henry big, strong, and handsome . . . Emma petite,
dainty and full of fire. When she had first been introduced to Dr. Jekyll's
fiancee,
Helena's heart had been torn into a thousand pieces, but Emma's friendship
had helped her reassemble her emotions.
Helena had not believed in love
at first sight until the moment that she laid eyes upon Henry Jekyll. His
delicate features, sleeping ever so
peacefully at his beloved father's side. How she had wanted to touch
his face! But then he awoke . . . and his piercing eyes filled her soul
with a
feeling of completion she had never experienced before . . . or ever
would again. So many times the two had been alone together; so many
opportunities for her to express her emotions had been wasted. And
the day came when Emma Carew walked into the lab, and Henry ran to her
with a
passionate embrace and a kiss overflowing with such unending love-a
kiss Helena could not have conjured up in her greatest of fantasies! It
was then
that she vowed never to love again, and never to admit her love for
Henry Jekyll. Yet sometimes still, when he turned to her with a satisfied
smile, or
when she watched him completely absorbed in his calculations . . .
she felt her heart cry out to hold him . . . and could do nothing.
The day she encountered Mr. Hyde
in the laboratory still burned fresh in her memory. She had thought him
to be Dr. Jekyll at first, but as she
watched his frenzied search through the contents of the cabinets and
observed his strange, lumbering posture . . . she knew something was terribly
wrong.
"Henry?" She had asked cautiously.
She knew this could not be the doctor she had come to know so well . .
. yet he wore the same style of
clothing, and maintained the same physical stature. Because of the
curly black mane that swirled freely around his face, she was unable to
see his
features, but clung to the hope that it would truly be an intruder
. . . and not whom she suspected. His clothes were of great quality yet
ill fitting and
disheveled, the front of his shirt ripped open indifferently. Still,
she refused to acknowledge the fact that this might very well be the product
of the
doctor's unfortunate fate, until she noticed the sleeve of his shirt
had been rolled up, and a small trickle of blood seeped form a puncture
wound at his
elbow. "Dr. Jekyll, stop!" She shouted, nauseous at the thought of
what Henry had done to himself. He ignored her at first, grunting in frustration
as
he smashed beaker after beaker of precious chemicals. "Henry! What
are you doing? Is that you?"
"Jekyll's gone." He spoke rather
flatly in a gruff voice as he continued to peruse the counter. "He asked
me to . . . mind the lab." At this he
erupted into sinister laughter, culminating in the hurling of a Bunsen
burner, and the simmering liquid above it, against the wall violently.
"Where does
he keep this wonder drug, Love?" He had asked impatiently.
"You'll be the last to know, I
assure you! Now I will ask you to leave, and should you refuse I'll be
forced to call the authorities!" Helena
shouted at the madman in front of her. He staggered towards her rather
languidly, head hung ungraciously low, hiding his darkened features.
"Excuse me Miss, but I believe
your incredibly boring Doctor has something I require." He stopped only
inches from her face, raising his head
slowly . . . revealing the wild grin and menacing glare of a truly
evil being. She gasped, taken aback by the new elements of this once familiar
face . . .
still handsome, but the most frightening thing she'd ever seen. "You
must be the doctor's assistant, leave it to Henry to keep such a beautiful
woman at
his side . . . for nothing but work. Surely he could find a lab rat
to replace you!" He snickered, smiling mischievously as he watched her
ponder this
statement. It was not true to say she was dispensable to Jekyll, in
fact, he would be lost without her. What was this strange man up to?
"Who, may I ask, are you?" She
asked carefully, Jekyll had spoken of Hyde's quick temper and she knew
the slightest thing could set him
off.
"What you've been waiting for."
He suddenly lunged forward, taking her face in his hands, and kissed her
impulsively. She was shocked at
first, but it would not be honest to say she didn't derive pleasure
from this abrupt embrace. A passion she had never known burned forth from
his once
familiar lips. With a flick of the tongue he slowly retreated, staring
at her with a look of pure lust. "Bet the old Doctor hasn't studied you
yet, has he?"
He leaned in once again, but she stepped away from him . . . and miraculously
he let her go. This was not the man Dr. Jekyll had described to her, a
violent madman incapable of love . . . Edward Hyde was something more.
She knew that Henry would explode when he heard she had encountered
him, even be angry with her if he found out about the kiss they had
shared. And how could she do this to Emma, her beloved friend? Do what!
An
overly amorous man had merely given Helena a peck-her rationalizations
were quite broad, for she had just experienced the deepest, wettest most
sensual kiss of her lifetime-and surely the actions of this man had
nothing to do with the doctor. Yet it was Jekyll, and Helena could not
decide if this
knowledge was scaring her away or drawing her closer.
"You must leave, the doctor will
be here soon!" She pleaded; deciding her best option was not to alert Hyde
of her knowledge of his true
identity.
"Oh darling . . . Helena, was it?
Darling Helena, the doctor will be detained for quite some time." He came
to her once again, and wrapped his
arms around her shoulders, massaging her soothingly, whispering in
her ear hypnotically. "Far long enough to allow us to . . . conduct our
experiments." She was shocked to hear him speak her name . . . if the
doctor could not remember his actions as Hyde, then how could this beast
recall
Jekyll's experiences? Surely he was more dangerous than Henry had imagined
. . . and Hyde held the upper hand.
"Please, sir! I don't know you
at all! You shouldn't be here!" She attempted to break loose of his embrace,
yet surprised herself when she
allowed him to gently hold her back. She didn't understand this sudden
overpowering attraction between herself and Hyde, and she knew that her
own
love for the doctor was going to get her in trouble. As his arms enveloped
her, and she felt her body rise to meet his lips, she found herself wanting
to
be weak in the worst way. Hyde's barbaric touch made her feel like
she had never felt before. His smothering of hands and lips excited the
crude,
lustful part of her soul, and she found herself contemplating giving
into this release. How she wished she could excuse her actions to the forceful
will
of Mr. Hyde, and convince herself she had no choice but to obey his
resolve . . . but she had always taken pride in her strength, and Dr. Jekyll
had
always respected this feature as well. To fail him now, to encourage
the unethical escapades of his greatest enemy would mean the end of his
respect,
as well as the bond they shared. "Please, you must leave . . . stop
. . . " He silenced her with an incredible kiss, and his hands reached
up to unlace her
bodice. He gripped her back with such force his fingernails almost
broke the skin, and she let out a small gasp that made him smile. Suddenly
void of
all tenderness . . . his fiery touch sent her reeling into a panic
attack. This was not right-she had to get away before it was too late!
His hands ripped the lacing free
. . . and slid lasciviously inside the corset, separated only by her undershirt
from her bare skin . . . he pulled
her close and leaned her back against the lab table, throwing off his
unbuttoned shirt. His rippling muscles sent a pang of fear through her
being, for
she knew the delicate position she had found herself in. Surely he
would have his way, whether she consented or not, and this once exciting
prospect
now filled her with gut wrenching fear. "Mr. Hyde, stop!" She screamed
. . . instantly aware of her error. He stopped dead in his tracks, his
lips--which had strayed to the base of her neck-- curled into an evil
snarl. Suddenly, he reached up and grabbed her face with one hand, pinching
her
cheeks with painful force.
"So the doctor's spilled his little
secret! Leave it to Jekyll to entrust his fate to a meddling little woman!"
He tossed her onto the counter, with
such a force that she felt herself lifted like a doll. She looked to
her left, and saw a large glass beaker sitting atop the counter, vacant
of any liquid. She
lunged for it, but her fingers missed by inches . . . and now she was
in a worse position then before! Hyde loomed over her with an insane grin,
his
arms pinning her down by the shoulders. "I think the doctor needs a
little reminder . . . " His hands strayed to her throat . . . "Of the necessity
for
confidentiality." Slowly, her eyes grew wide with terror as his iron
grip tightened, and she found herself unable to breathe. She flailed her
arms wildly,
and through some miraculous twist of fate, found herself able to reach
the large beaker. Yielding all her strength, she swung her arm upward and
smashed the beaker across Edward Hyde's forehead. Sending a spray of
glass everywhere, and the debilitated body of the doctor sprawling across
the
floor.
She leapt to his side and found
him very unconscious and completely unresponsive, despite her attempts
to revive him. A large scratch spread
across his forehead, and she knew immediately she had administered
a concussion. She coughed repeatedly, found her breath, but found a wild
sob as
well. Smoothing the hair from her darling Henry's brow, she had cried
because of what he'd become . . . and what she had allowed him to do to
himself.
" . . . I suppose that would be wholly inappropriate on my part, don't you?" Emma's chattering brought her back to reality with a sigh.
"I'm sorry, I was daydreaming!
It's been such a long day, I'm terribly tired." Helena responded apologetically.
Emma gave her an exasperated
look, a look meant only in jest, and smiled.
"You missed the whole thing? I
was just pondering weather or not I should slip a note under the library
door . . . he's been inside for quite
sometime."
"Emma, what in the world would
you write?" Helena asked, amused by the innocent lovesick actions of her
friend. It occurred to her for the
first time how naïve and innocent Emma really was. Here she was worried
about sending a note to her fiancee, while she was totally unaware that
up
until three weeks ago she had nearly lost her love . . . or gained
another fianc*e! This thought struck Helena as incredibly humorous . .
. and she bit
down hard on her cheek, stifling a laugh.
"What's so funny? I would like
to send him a pre-wedding message, you only get married once you know."
This ironic comment was too
much to bear, and Helena burst into a hysterical fit of laughter. Her
cheeks turned bright red, and as Emma looked on confused she attempted
to
restrain herself futilely. A knock on the kitchen door put an end to
her giggles.
"Helena, our carriage awaits!"
Jekyll spoke from outside the door. "As for you, Miss Carew, do not open
you precious little mouth-not a word
until our wedding!" The smile that had penetrated Emma's delicate features
dulled slightly, and she closed her mouth, having been about to speak.
"I'm coming, Dr. Jekyll-you should
not tempt your fiancee so, speaking through the door when she dreams of
your handsome face!" Helena
rose from her seat and moved around the table, hugging Emma fiercely.
"Let it be known that tomorrow
she will have no further need for dreams-my love with fulfill every last
one." He spoke these last words
quietly with such a loving and gentle tone, Helena thought that either
herself or Emma would faint of frustration, both for their own reasons.
She
stepped towards the door, opened it a crack, and stepped into the corridor.
Into the presence of the man she longed to call her own, the man who would
promise himself to her best friend in a few hours time, and did her
best to smile. The happiness in his eyes had always been contagious . .
.