An evening in which Wadsworth confesses to certain dark troubles he encountered before coming to work for Barnabas Collins, explaining why he understands his relationships with both Angelique Bouchard and Josette Dupres. Also delving into how he recognizes the difficulties of Collinwood in general.

Why Wadsworth Understands

One evening as my lovely bride was ascending the stairs, having kissed me goodnight, I was about to rest into my usual armchair before the fire and take a look into one of the many books I'd been aggrieved to miss over the centuries. I picked it up then put it down again as my ever faithful butler stepped into the room.

"Sir," he began, "I'm afraid the blood-pie experiment did not turn out so well."

I had to grin with some relief, "Ah, well. It was only a curiousity. Hardly my favourite dish in a bygone youth, my good man. What happened?"

"Mr. Loomis and I were reflecting on things and... well... got a little distracted. It is... rather burnt."

I tried to give a look toward him of his having been rather naughty, but he could see right through me, as he always does. He smiled back.

"It's good to know you and Willie get along so well."

"We've had a rather interesting acquaintance previously."

"I know," I told him, "and I was wondering a great deal about you as of late. If it wasn't for you, along with all of these strange events, I may never know the happiness I've so longed for. How is that you've come to understand us all so very well?"

His attentive stance relaxed and he placed his hands in his pockets , "The family history isn't as privatized as you all may like to speculate, Sir. I could read between the lines, and the gossip does flow rather easily here. It seemed to me you'd all been overwhelming yourselves with internal struggles. These would produce foul actions and more nightmarish displays of both vanity and revenge."

The silence at this point was so deafening that I almost didn't hear the crackling flames inside the hearth. He had hit the nail on the head again.

"Agreed," I finally said to him, "and how did you know how to accomplish what you've done?"

"I hardly did it alone, Sir. As I've explained to Mr. Loomis, can anything be accomplished by a single individual all alone?"

"No," I answered, "though there are many who have expected me to do such grand tasks."

"As our archivists know, Sir. Was that all?"

"No, Wadsworth," I answered, "I remember you mentioning an incident that happened to you many years before you came here. You'd fallen into some trouble of your own."

"Yes," he said, "I think you mean the incident in which I was blackmailed even earlier than before my... employment... at Hill House, so to speak."

"Yes. Did it not involve a previous lover?"

"No, Sir," he began carefully, "it involved a liaison I had in which I'd woken up from a heavy night of drink. Not usually my forte, but there was a rather great deal of social pressure to do so and a large number of people I was associating with at the time. I was given the impression that nothing untoward had occurred when I came to in another lady's bedroom the following morning. It was a large house and a large party. Anything may have happened that I wouldn't have been totally aware of the next day."

"And then you went home?" I asked.

"Yes. My wife had been on a visit and we shared our stories upon her return home. Quite a lovely time we had, she and I... Anyway, about ten months later I received an unfortunate letter. It was from the woman whose bed I'd lain in and had given me the impression I'd slept there alone."

"You hadn't, I gather."

"Not that she was telling me in this letter, Sir. No," he explained. "I began going into quite a lot of debt when I was sent the paperwork of my supposed son's birth. I wanted to do the honourable thing but..." he sighed, "I was against telling my wife until I could find some way to support my own dastardly behaviour, of which, try as I might, I had no memory of."

"That is excessively troubling," I sympathized, "and divorce being such a new concept to me I have a hard time imagining it. I would gather that you felt you ought to divorce your wife and marry this woman whose child you'd fathered."

Wadsworth took a deep breath and leaned against the doorframe, staring up, "As you remember the tale, I did make that attempt to offer such allegiance. Is it any wonder she wouldn't have me considering what happened?"

"I can't imagine. I confess to know little of these times I have missed sleeping so long in my ...enchained... state of existence."

"Of course, Sir," he reflected, rolling his head from the doorframe and looking in my direction, "It all rather changed quicker and quicker as time went on and still does. As you know, I wasn't going to wonder who this wee lad was and she refused to accept me for a visit. So I took the paper work and went to the hospital to perhaps find more details of my son's whereabouts. I arrived and was seen to fairly quickly considering how busy a hospital can get."

He looked down to the floor, and taking his hands out of his pockets folded his arms before carrying forward, his eyes becoming slightly glassy as though a mist was about to cloud.

"What did they tell you?" I asked.

He looked up with a sad resolution, "The paperwork had been forged. They had no record of such a birth and there were signatures on the document of his birth that were unknown names to them, as well as one that was familiar but obviously was not the doctor's handwriting," with this he paused to give a slight laugh, "it was too legible."

I hummed in commiseration over this sad joke in light of sour circumstances, "Did you ever discover why she had wanted the money from you?"

He did laugh a bit at this, "Oh, ha, the usual women's vanity. Clothing, furs, expensive jewellery. Material possessions that seem to give people the kind of comfort they can't take for granted when there are higher sources of joy in life, of course."

"I doubt I need to be told what those are," I expressed to my steadfast butler. Friendship, connection, the beauty of structure in both nature and by human design was what he meant. Those things many take for granted, while others do not have them.

"And so," he said, "when it comes to the incident with the young mistress Bouchard, I knew where you were coming from in some small regard. I was very grateful I could finally unburden myself to my wife about what had been happening. She knew me too well not to suspect something was bothering me, but I told her it was only a bad memory. When she heard the news she was very grateful that it had all been a petulant lie. And so was I."

"Still," I told him, "in comparison you hadn't been in that affair. Your conscience is much clearer than mine. I was guilty of my own passion as concerns Angelique Bouchard."

"Yes," said my good servant, "but for months... I believed I had been as guilty and dishonourable. For months... to me... it was true."

I nodded in this sympathy we were now sharing, "I see. I suppose this sorry woman didn't return in any way what she'd taken from you?"

He scoffed, "Ah! I didn't care at that point. I was happy to be rid of the whole problem and never hear from her again, nor meet her in polite society. Although we can all wonder how polite that society truly is."

"So you knew of how I felt," I said, stepping closer to him, "but of Josette? How did you know how I felt about her?"

He finally smiled, "Ah, Sir... Hadn't I told you? Mr. Loomis knows the answer to this one. When we were being blackmailed into working for our employer for free? She ended her life. She was put into a position she couldn't handle anymore. Like many of your family, and like the bride you hold so dear. I understand loss, Sir. And I understand loneliness. And many of the ones around you, who adore you while also tormenting you into dire situations, do not understand these things."

"Well," I said, "perhaps in their own way they do understand. I have so much of what I was so desperate for. If I didn't have my family or friends such as yourself and Mr. Loomis, along with the woman I love and adore above all others; I think it would have been best if I had jumped off of the cliff. Suicide is not a rare thought to some of us."

"No, Sir. It is not."

I heaved a sigh, "Still, it is nice to see such wonders I was beginning to lose hope for. Especially with Carolyn's new business, along with that of her friend. I know writing and description can be a very difficult endeavour."

Wadsworth straitened himself and stepped back toward the door he'd come out of, "Well that is the nice thing about the madam from Schooner Bay. She has her sales to keep her going and she also has words of comfort from her readers, which I think helps her more."

"Yes," I said, "I believe when it comes to storytelling, knowing the approval of your audience and how they enjoy one's work is perhaps the largest reason to the creator of it. Without that, why go on?"

A knowing smile came to his face.

"Very good, Sir," said Wadsworth. Then he bowed and stepped out.