There was an unusual stillness in the air that made Liz pause halfway down the stairs. Mornings after one of Ira’s failed bedroom attempts were usually humming with the sounds of servants moving about the mansion. It was as if Ira needed the unusual bustle to masquerade as the vitality that was missing in his sexual life.
Liz shook off the mood and continued down the long, curving staircase to the dining room. Along the way she passed priceless works of art hung upon the wall with all the casualness reserved for portraits of family members long gone. Liz stopped in front of her favorite, a brilliant-colored Seurat. Considered one of the artist's lesser works, the brightly hued painting nonetheless spoke to Liz each time she stood before it. The small canvas just seemed to represent her soul after its sale to Ira - bold and bright and gay upon the surface, but splintered into thousands of tiny dots right there for anyone bothering to take a closer look.
The problem was there was no one to take that closer look. In agreeing to Ira's marriage contract, Liz had effectively sealed herself off from all human contact but those that resided in Ira's mansion. She had become like one of her husband's precious works of art, free to shine only within the mansion's walls.
How ungrateful she sounded, Liz mused. She had only herself to blame for the doubts that plagued her in the quiet, small hours of the night. Her marriage to Ira might have been more arrangement than affection, but still, he was a generous, giving husband. From the moment she'd said "I do", he had gone out of his way to make her smile. Liz told herself that her marriage’s twisted sexual situation was a small enough trade-off for all that she had received.
"It is a sad morning, Mrs." The solemn proclamation startled Liz. Ford stood just at the foot of the stairs, as though he'd been awaiting Liz's descent from the second floor bedroom.
"Ford?" Liz's gaze flew to the empty place at the dining room table where Ira normally sat reading an assortment of newspapers while he ate breakfast.
"The Master passed peacefully in his sleep early this morning."
Liz's knees grew weak. Unseen hands gripped her by the elbows and led her to a nearby chair. Unable to remain on her feet, she sat down heavily. "The doctor has already been here. A death certificate was issued." The voice behind her penetrated the fog of shock Liz was engulfed in. She spun slowly in her seat to see just who spoke. "Morgan Cameron," the man prompted. "Ira's lawyer. You met me once before."
Morgan Cameron was what most would call 'solid'. Easily over six feet tall, the lawyer exuded a steely calm. Everything about him seemed sensible, from the light blue eyes that suggested honesty and integrity to the wispy remains of what was once probably a full head of hair combed neatly along the sides of his balding head. "Oh, yes." Liz vaguely remembered meeting the lawyer. It had been right before she'd married Ira, and frankly, that period in her life seemed like a lifetime ago. "Mr.Cameron."
"Ira knew," Attorney Cameron took a seat at the table beside Liz, "that this would be an overwhelming time for you. So, he has made all the necessary decisions that need to be handled right now."
Liz rubbed her forehead. It was evident from her dazed expression that she was still dealing with the shock of the news of her husband's death. "I'm sorry, I don't understand." She turned to Ford. "What happened? Did Ira have a heart attack?"
"He passed in his sleep." Morgan Cameron drew Liz's attention back with a gentle tap on her arm. "Doctor Suisham was very comfortable with that diagnosis. He has been Ira's physician almost since he graduated from medical school." The lawyer continued. "Ford called me at three this morning after he'd gone to check on Ira as required. He wasn't breathing. It was obvious that he had passed some time earlier."
Earlier... Liz closed her eyes. Ira had lay dying while she was writhing silently beneath the butler, clutching the sheets and thanking the heavens for Ford's skills, however impersonal. Or perhaps her husband had taken his last breath while she snored softly in her bed, so weary from Ford’s attention that she would not have heard the world end.
Attorney Cameron noticed Liz’s distress. "There is time for me to review this with you later this afternoon. Just know that Ira prepared for this day. His body is on the way to the crematorium and his ashes will be returned to you later this afternoon. Ira gave me a list of places he would like you to consider for the spreading his ashes. Any of them would be in accordance with his final wishes." Cameron paused to verify that Liz was listening.
"Final wishes." Liz parroted the words obediently.
The attorney rose and helped Liz from her chair. It was obvious to the lawyer that she was in shock and not ready to deal with the details of Ira's passing. "Maybe you should go back up and lie down a while," he suggested kindly. "There is nothing for you to handle right now," he assured her. "And there are several conversations I need to have with the staff." He leveled a hard glance back over his shoulder. "Starting with Ford."
End Note: Attorney Morgan Cameron - Ken Howard
