Deadly Peril (29 page)

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Authors: Lucinda Brant

Tags: #Historical mystery

BOOK: Deadly Peril
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“You would not have learned about my miscarriage from others, but from me. And yes, I denied you the right to grieve the loss of our baby with me, which I know was wrong. And I am deeply sorry and-and
remorseful
that I took that decision. But I did so because at that moment in time I did not want to grieve. I wanted us to be happy in Paris. I wanted to feel all those things lovers feel when they are free to love and live and finally be together unencumbered. If I had told you about the loss of our child… how could we have spent a carefree week burdened with such news? And it would have been there, a big black cloud, the entire time of your visit.”

“You did not perhaps feel the necessity to have someone—me—take some of the burden of grief from you?” he asked gently.

She shook her head. “No. I am perfectly capable—well, I thought I was perfectly capable—of shouldering such grief on my own. I did not want you to be troubled—”

“Oh, my darling, you know I—”

“Please! Please reserve judgment until after you have heard me out! Thank you,” she added when he nodded and closed his mouth.“I have given my wretched behavior a great deal of thought since Bath. I wondered why I could not bring myself to tell you, to involve you. But it has always been thus for me since I married and you went away. To-to deal with-with
situations
and
consequences
on my own. I do not blame you for this. You must never think that.”

She gave a crooked smile and a little sigh, adding, “The blame for my-my
unthinking
heartlessness I lay at the feet of my odious husband. When I was first married off to J-L, I quickly realized that I could not allow myself to feel—to feel
anything
. Bruises heal and disappear, and one can accept rape within marriage if one allows oneself to believe it is a husband’s right to take from a wife what is his, however unwilling she may be. It is the law after all. I should have been a biddable wife. I was not. I dealt with his visits to my bed by taking my mind some place far away. In that way it was not I who was being abused, it was another.

“The wonder of it is that I did not shrivel and die inside. But had I allowed myself to-to
feel
, had I allowed my heart to absorb all that wretchedness, I would have killed myself, or killed J-L—or both of us, just to be set free. So I did the only thing I could: I hardened my heart. It became as stone. It was better that way, to have no proper feelings at all. It was the only way I survived six years of such vile maltreatment. I became numb to everything, and life was bearable. And that became the most important thing for me: That life be
bearable
…”

She looked up from her hands, where her gaze had been focused and smiled at him, but without really seeing him. If she had she would have noticed that his eyes were full of tears.

“But… For my life to be bearable, there had to be no children of the marriage. I could harden my own heart, look after myself, but how could I shield a child from such a monster? To have allowed myself to have J-L’s child would have been my undoing. And so I took precautions. You don’t need to know the details, or where I procured such substances and methods. But I did. And I do not regret using them to stop conception. I am guilty as charged by Lady Rutherglen. I also lied to protect myself. From time to time I would announce a pregnancy, just to have some respite from J-L’s visits. But I could only maintain such a subterfuge for a few months. And then I would, sadly for others, miscarry. And then the cycle of abuse would start all over again…”

She shrugged and bit her lower lip in thought as she stared across at the view from the undraped window, mind’s eye filled with pictures of an abusive marriage she had fought hard to suppress. But this confessional would be the last time she ever need bare her soul about this chapter in her life. After she was done, she would move forward with her life, with Alec. Of that she was determined.

She was brought back to the present, that she was a passenger in a watercraft, and they had finally begun their journey east, when the trekschuit bumped up against the side of the wharf as it was unmoored and was maneuvered away out into canal, pulled along by two heavy horses out of view. She couldn’t be happier to again be on the move. That the journey meant leaving behind the protection of Emden’s fortified walls to venture out into the open of enemy territory and danger was unimportant, because this journey would bring them one step closer to Emily and Cosmo, and setting them free. Seeing the grenadiers in formation march along the tow path was some comfort. The soldiers would remain beside the trekschuiten until the barges passed beyond the three locks and under the four bridges to leave the town behind, and then they would march forward, past the horses, to provide a first line of defense for the convoy, while a similar company brought up the rear.

Alec, too, was momentarily distracted by the movement of the trekschuit, the sound of voices on the other side of the curtain raised in excitement that the journey was finally underway, and by the activity outside the window. But he knew progress would be slow and tedious and it would be an hour before the convoy of barges reached the outskirts and final lock, before leaving the town behind. Besides, he preferred to watch Selina in her distraction, gaze on her lovely profile and the apricot curls which sprang from the edges of a little lace-edged cap under a peaked velvet bonnet, tied with a lopsided bow under her chin.

And while he patiently waited for her distraction to end and for her to continue with her confessional, he quickly dabbed at his moist eyes with a white linen handkerchief. He then squared his neck and shoulders, as if preparing to take on more weight from her confession that already had the power to cause his back to stoop. It was just as well, for when she finally looked away from the view it was to meet his gaze openly, and her dark eyes were all desolation.

“Excuse me. I-I am glad we are finally on our way… I—There is no painless way to tell you… But you already know I miscarried… It was unthinkable to me I would find myself pregnant just months after J-L’s death,” she continued. “My first thought was that I was carrying his monster, and I was appalled. But there was another possibility. A much happier possibility and one I dared to hope might be the right one. That the baby was-was—yours. That I conceived when we were reconciled in the Grove. And then—And then I miscarried in Paris.”

She put out a hand to him and smiled sadly when he took it in a firm clasp and rested their entwined hands on his knee. “I thought about telling you. But decided I did not need to, that I could best deal with the loss, and you need never know. And, selfishly, what I wanted more than anything was to spend our time in Paris making love. And had I told you, not only would we have spent that week with a big black cloud hanging over us, I would’ve had to confess everything to you. This meant telling you the physician’s depressing prognosis: That I would never have another child. He believed the miscarriage had left me barren…”

When she felt Alec’s hand give an involuntary flinch and his jaw clenched shut to stop himself from interrupting her, she quickly added,

“I realize now that the physician’s opinion is just that, an opinion. He couldn’t know for a certainty I had been left barren, and so Aunt Olivia assured me. She was most strident that I should allow you to make up your own mind as to whether you wish to marry me, regardless of the physician’s diagnosis. And she is right, I did allow myself to be persuaded by others as to what was best for
you
. Only you know what is best for you—for us, and our future, and I am—I am—I am truly s-sorry to have caused you pain and heartache, but you see it is because my heart—”

Alec could listen and be still no longer. Not now the tears were streaming down her face.

“Darling! Sweetheart! My dearest girl! For pity’s sake, you must stop torturing yourself with—”

“Please! Please, do not interrupt! I must tell you the rest.
I must
. It is the most important part—the thing I
most
want to tell you.”

When he let go of her hands and sat back, pressed his lips together and nodded, she smiled through her tears and quickly wiped dry her cheeks with the back of a trembling hand before saying quietly but firmly,

“I told you I had to harden my heart upon marriage to make my life bearable. But what I had not comprehended was that because it remained that way for six excruciating years, it has taken some little while for me to recover my-my
natural
way of feeling, and to-to—
soften
my heart to its natural state, to how it was before I became the Honorable Mrs. George Jamison-Lewis. For me to be able to trust and love again as I had before my marriage, for me to allow another—you—into my life again, became almost insurmountable.”

She touched his close-shaven cheek and smiled into his blue eyes. “But I-I desperately want you in my life. I love you with my whole heart such as it is, damaged or no. But it is flesh and blood again and beats as it did when I was eighteen and met you for the first time, the handsomest but certainly the most unsuitable bachelor in all London.” She giggled when he pulled an exaggerated face. “My parents, Cobham, my friends, they all lectured me against you, but I knew,
I knew
in my beating heart that you were the one. I have never wavered from that conviction. I wish I were that eighteen-year-old girl again. I know I can be, given time. For my heart is no longer stone. It beats strong and true, and only for you.” She added with a shy smile, “I would very much like you to ask me again to be your wife, and I will give you the answer you—
we
—both want to hear…”

For what seemed like minutes but was less than one, Alec held her gaze and said nothing. He then slowly untied the silk bow of her bonnet, carefully removed it from her coiffure and set it aside. She blinked, searching his face for his thoughts. But his focus raked over her from sprung curls to her slightly parted lips before locking on her dark eyes. He smiled and drew her closer, so close she caught the masculine scent of him mingled with the bergamot, pepper, and soap of his freshly-shaved skin, and she caught her breath.

“And my heart beats strong and true, only and always for you,” he repeated and raised her hand to kiss her fingers, then her palm, and then rested her hand in his on his knee. Smiling into her damp eyes he asked, “Will you consent to be my wife, here, today, from this day forward, Selina Margaret Olivia Vesey?”

The breath in Selina’s throat turned to a sob at his use of her maiden name, and the last six years washed away from her. She felt as giddy as she had when he had first asked her this same life-altering question just after her eighteenth birthday. She nodded and smiled and gave a little tearful laugh. “Yes! Yes, I will! I want that more than anything. So yes, here. Today. This hour if you can arrange it!”

He felt a huge relief and gave a bark of laughter. “In an hour? I wish with all
my
heart it could be so arranged! But it
will
be today. That I promise.”

With that assurance he gently cupped her face in his warm hands, turned his chin, and kissed her with great tenderness and deliberation. And when she yielded, when her mouth opened under his and her hands found anchorage in the billowing folds of his white cotton shirt sleeves, she gave a little whimper of need mixed with contentment. It was all the signal he needed to be ardent. And so they gave themselves up to a long luxurious kiss which was as loving as it was passionate, leaving no doubt as to the depth of their feelings and intentions.

S
IXTEEN


T
EA
!” Alec stated when they came up for air. Selina smiled shyly and nodded. And when he smiled back, thumb caressing her flushed cheek, she dropped her gaze and her chin, flustered and still shaken from her confession, his declaration, her acceptance, and finally, their kiss. He understood. He too was overwhelmed with what had just occurred. So he endeavored to put her at ease by introducing the mundane. Making a cup of tea would serve to settle them both, and hopefully provide a little respite for their emotions before he launched into his own confession.

He rose off the camp bed, and gently kissed her forehead before turning away to rummage in the corner where the trunks were stacked. He lifted down a small leather trunk and placed it on the camp bed where he had been sitting. It was a
nécessaire de voyage
left to him by his mother, and inside was everything needed for the making and taking of tea: A decorated French porcelain tea service, a candle warmer to keep the tea in the matching porcelain pot warm, and a porcelain canister filled with his preferred blend of green tea. He cleared a space on his campaign table and began unpacking the
nécessaire
, saying as casually as he was able,

“All we need now is hot water, and some of Elsa’s delicious ginger biscuits from the barge kitchen…”

“I’ll have Evans send for them,” Selina offered, suitably diverted from her introspection.

“Yes, ask Evans,” Alec said with a smile over his shoulder, before continuing on with setting out the tea things, allowing her time to regain her equilibrium, just as he was doing.

She quickly fussed with her hair, repositioned a number of pins to catch up a stray curl, and hoped her face was not so flushed with color that it would betray her feelings, so that her lady’s maid would beg the question, and worry more than she already did over her mistress’s fragile emotional state. But the presence of others in the deckhouse, whom she could hear in conversation on the other side of the curtain, would be enough to preclude any but the most commonplace talk.

So she slipped behind the curtain into the main cabin, and Alec went to the window. He shrugged on his dark woolen frock coat over his waistcoat and shirt sleeves as best he could without the assistance of his valet, and gazed on the picturesque view.

Tall Dutch gabled houses lining the canal were bathed in a cool morning light as the sun’s rays struggled through a heavy winter sky. The trekschuit was leaving the darkness behind as it moved slowly east towards the fortified walls, and the locks that would take them out of the town and into the frozen wilderness beyond. This would be his last look at Emden, of that he was convinced. Then again, he had had the same convincing thought ten years ago, and here he was in a place he never thought to return to in his lifetime. He shook his head at fate. So much for last looks! And so much for fate.

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