Saving Grace (The Grace Series Book 2) (31 page)

The general took the violin out from under his arm, held it up and said to her, “I am a little rusty, but I thought perhaps you and I could try to serenade these gentlemen. I don’t know how well Etienne and Reverend Nash will like it, but I’m pretty sure Jonny will. Would you consider accompanying me?”

Jessica had to consciously force herself to keep her mouth closed. “I would be happy to,” she stammered.

It was the beginning of an incredible evening. The general’s talent was stunning. He stood beside the piano and together they played Bach, and then they played Mozart. And then, much to Jessica’s pleasure, Willy and Jacob’s heads peeked around the doorway.

“Join us,” the general said.

The grinning boys scurried in. Shortly thereafter, Martha, Herlin, Ruth, Ditter and Chelsea came in, too.

Jessica and the general played, while the others danced and sang. Before long they were all laughing, especially when the general broke into a harmonic rendition of ‘Dixie.’

Willy exclaimed, “I know how to play that!” so Jessica relinquished her spot at the piano to the young boy.

Etienne grabbed Jessica’s hand. “It’s time for you to dance, too.”

The others clapped and stomped out the rhythm while Etienne twirled Jessica around the room. At one point he spun her so swiftly she careened into him and stepped on his foot. She squealed and everyone laughed. Then Herlin and Martha joined in. Sebastian partnered Ruth, and Jacob made a hilarious attempt to dance with little Chelsea.

Finished with ‘Dixie’ the general started in on another upbeat southern favorite, and Etienne kept their dance going. Soon they were all promenading around the room and switching partners. Because there were more men than women, the odd man out had to wait his turn. They made a game of it, tagging each other in without breaking the stride of the dance.

Little Willy was trying desperately to keep up with the general. He hit many discordant keys, but it didn’t matter. His efforts were delightful. Willy had a natural ear, and for a beginner was surprising successful at picking out chords that harmonized with what the general was playing. The merriment went on and on.

Throughout, as frequently as she could, Jessica looked at her husband. He was watching their antics with a faint smile on his face, and she was grateful to see him as amused as the rest of them.

She was being spun again, this time by Herlin, when she heard Ruth yell, “Chelsea! No!”

The general’s violin screeched to silence, and Willy followed suit. All eyes in the room turned on Chelsea in time to see her climbing up Julien’s leg, and Julien leaning forward to pick her up. Ruth hurried across the room, but she wasn’t fast enough. None of them were. Chelsea was already on his lap. Oblivious to his distress, the little girl turned around and propped herself against him. Her stocking-clad legs were dangling over his knees.

Ruth reached out for her granddaughter, but Julien raised a hand to stop her. He was still cringing as he whispered, “It’s okay. She’s fine here.” It took a moment for him to catch his breath. Once he did, warmth spread through Jessica’s entire body. The contented picture they made was breathtaking. She could have stared at them for the rest of the night, but it was not to be.

“Willy, what’s next?” the general asked. The music, the dancing, the singing and the laughter started up yet again.

Before long, needing a break, Jessica stepped aside and went to stand next to Julien’s chair. Chelsea had shifted. She was sideways, snuggled into a ball, with her head resting on Julien’s chest. How the child could fall asleep during all their loud carrying-on, Jessica couldn’t imagine. Lightly Julien ran his fingers over her head, then he leaned back and closed his eyes, too. The serenity of their pose and the tenderness in Julien’s actions caused a bittersweet tug on Jessica’s heart, and she found herself blinking rapidly. She was glad Etienne grabbed her hand and pulled her back out into the middle of the room.

Eventually, the general slowed things down, breaking into a romantic Brahms lullaby and Sebastian cut in to steal her away. “My turn,” he said.

Together they circled the room in the slower, more elegant steps of the waltz. Neither of them spoke as they danced, but Sebastian stared into her eyes and smiled the entire time. For Jessica, all of the dancing was wonderful, but the waltz was the best. It reminded her of the waltz with Julien at their wedding reception.

All too soon it was over. Sebastian winked and bowed over her hand to kiss the back of it. She was still grinning happily as she sprang around to look at Julien. She’d been so wrapped up in the dance she only spared him a glance or two. His eyes had been closed, but now they were open, and she saw in them the same naked torment she noticed before. Because it felt right and because she wanted to somehow reassure him, she walked over and laid her hand on his shoulder.

She watched Martha dancing with Sebastian, and Jacob dancing with Ruth. When Jacob tripped over his grandmother’s foot and exclaimed, “Dancing is too hard!” Jessica was able to find her grin again. Giggling, she lightly squeezed Julien’s shoulder.

“Jess,” he murmured.

At first she didn’t hear him over Willy’s pounding on the piano.

“Jess,” he whispered again.

Jessica looked down and saw his distress instantly. The second she plucked Chelsea from his lap, Julien leaned forward and covered his mouth with his hand. Where the handkerchief he always carried disappeared to, Jessica didn’t know. It was the first fit of choking he had all day, at least that she was aware of. Etienne appeared out of nowhere, handed Julien a handkerchief and then leaned over to support him until the awful retching subsided. It was a long episode compared to some of the others. When it ended, Julien leaned back and Etienne took the bloody handkerchief from his trembling fingers, deftly refolded it and wiped his face.

It wasn’t until then that Jessica noticed the silence in the room. Willy had risen from the piano and was standing beside Martha, clutching her skirt with his little hand. Jacob was in virtually the same position with Ruth. Although both boys had spent time with the major, neither of them had seen this happen to him.

Ditter took the still sleeping Chelsea from her and said, “Perhaps we should call it a night.”

“Yes, it is getting late,” Martha agreed. “It’s way past the children’s bed time.”

Julien opened his eyes, but said nothing.

With an exaggerated yawn, Herlin said, “I don’t know about the rest of you. All this dancing has me worn out.”

With the exception of Chelsea, who continued to sleep soundly in her grandfather’s arms, they all exchanged good nights and well wishes for pleasant dreams. As Martha, Herlin, Ditter, Ruth and the children shuffled out, Etienne said, “I agree with Herlin, I am worn out, too. I think I will head on up.” With a soft kiss on her cheek, he said, “Good night, Jessica.” Then he turned his attention to Julien and lightly pressed his shoulder. “I will see you tomorrow, my brother. Rest well, okay?”

Julien took a breath. “Good night.”

After Etienne was gone, Sebastian winked at Jessica and said to Julien, “We have stolen enough of your time with Jessica tonight. I think I’ll head up, too.” He went to the front of Julien’s chair and lowered himself so they were eye to eye. In little more than a whisper, intended for Julien’s ears alone, he said, “I am right, you know.
Pour elle, il y a seulement toi.”

The two of them stared at each other for a long time. Julien visibly swallowed and murmured, “Keep your pro…promise.”

With a brief nod, Sebastian started to rise, but instead of standing up, he leaned over Julien and put his palm on the side of Julien’s face. He kissed the top of Julien’s head, rested his cheek against Julien’s hair, and he stood there, immobile, just holding onto Julien that way.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a fiery whisper.
“Father, my Father, heal this man!”

His terse, emotionally charged words caused Jessica’s heart to trip. Without looking at either Jessica or the general, Sebastian quickly traversed the room and disappeared beyond the door. Although she had no idea what he’d said to Julien in French, it was clear much more was communicated between them than outwardly appeared. Julien’s eyes were closed again. Jessica could do nothing but watch Sebastian’s retreat.

She was still staring at the empty door frame when the general’s voice brought her back. “I am going to run some errands in town tomorrow morning,” he said. “I will be leaving early. So that I won’t disturb you, I thought it would be a good idea to check with you tonight. Is there anything I can bring either of you?”

Julien whispered, “I…I’m fine. Jess?”

“Mrs. Grace? Is there anything I can get for you?” the general asked.

She shook her head and focused on her husband. “No, thank you. Everything I could ever want is right here.”

The general looked at her oddly and said, “Well, then, I’ll bid you good night. Mrs. Grace, I’ll be in the library. If you wouldn’t mind letting me know when you retire, I’ll come back to help Jonny.”

“Th…thank you…you, Seth,” Julien whispered.

The general bowed his head to Jessica before he left the room. She watched him until he lightly closed the door behind him.

Redirecting her attention to Julien, Jessica sat down in the wing chair beside him. His eyes were closed so she reached out and covered his hand with hers. When he opened his eyes, she said, “Thank you again for today. It’s been a wonderful day. I will never forget it.”

Julien whispered, “Your company th…this w…w…week has meant s…so much t…to me.”

Jessica frowned at his exaggerated stuttering and his obvious discomfort, so opposite of how he’d been earlier in the day, but so he wouldn’t see it, she covered her worry with a smile. It was understandable he was tired. The evening’s activities lasted several hours. “I think I shall go to bed, too,” she said. “I’m sure the general is just outside. Would you like me to send him in?”

“Not j…just yet,” Julien whispered. “Will you pl…play once more be…before you go?”

Grinning, Jessica teased, “You haven’t had enough music for the night?”

“No one else com…compares.”

Lightly laughing, Jessica rose. “Do you have any special requests?”

Every time she played for him, she asked the same question. Every time he replied it didn’t matter, so Jessica was tickled when he said, “Cho…p…pin, Étude, E-flat.” He took a breath. “M…my favorite.”

Jessica was happy to oblige, and she smiled at him warmly as she sat down behind the keys. It wasn’t an especially long piece, but when she was finished, he appeared to be sleeping. His eyes were closed, his head was slightly to the side, and his expression was peaceful.

Jessica stood up and returned to the wing chair, but she didn’t sit. Standing there, she whispered, “Good night, Julien. Please get well.” And she leaned over and kissed his cheek for the second time that day.

He didn’t react to her touch at all.

She wanted to reach out to him, to connect physically again, but he looked so comfortable, she didn’t want to disturb him. Withdrawing her outstretched hand, she walked backward until she stood in the door frame. There, she remained, just gazing at him, and in that moment a waterfall of revelation cascaded over her.

Everything boiled down to one simple truth. All of her fear, all of her misgivings, all of her doubts and inability to see things clearly, weren’t his fault. He hadn’t caused them. They were a product of her own insecurity, her own lack of confidence, her own self-doubt. Now the battle that had raged between heart and mind for so long was over. Tomorrow, she would tell him. She would tell him what her heart had known all along.

Jessica slept very soundly. This she attributed to her extremely comfortable bed, to no longer feeling uneasy spending the night in a strange place, and to the thick walls at Grace Manor. At Bent Oak Manor she heard every footstep, every voice talking in the hallway, even as far away as the foyer. Here, all she heard were the crickets chirping outside, and this was only because she’d opened the window to let in the cool, summer breeze.

Grinning, she quickly washed and dressed and headed down the stairs. Every day this week she’d gone to breakfast first and waited for Herlin to tell her Julien was ready for company. Today, she intended to go directly to him. She was too impatient and too excited not to.

In the foyer, however, she stopped short. The parlor door was slightly ajar, and she could hear the general’s powerful strides advancing toward it from the inside. He yanked the door open and yelled, “Herlin, where are you? Hurry up!”

There was no sign of Herlin. It looked like the general was about to holler again, but when he spotted her, his jaw snapped shut.

“Is something wrong?” Jessica asked.

Before the general could answer, Herlin came barreling toward them. He was carrying a basin of steaming hot water, and had several clean towels thrown over his shoulder.

“Please hurry, Herlin.” The general held the door open and Herlin went through it.

“General?” Jessica said anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“I will not be joining you for breakfast today, Mrs. Grace.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Major Grace had a bad night. A very bad night. Don’t come in here today.”

The door latch clicked loudly behind him, blocking her out.

Jessica just stood there, wanting to defy the general’s command and march right into that room, but the way he spoke and the severity of his words kept her frozen in place. Her heart was thumping erratically.

A moment later, the door opened and Herlin came through it. In his hands he held a number of white towels, all bunched up, all of them dotted with stains.

“I’m sorry, Miss Jessica,” he said quietly. “Come to the kitchen. Ruth will make you something to eat.”

“Where’s Etienne? Where’s Reverend Nash?” Jessica asked.

“They’re in the parlor with Jonny.”

Jessica followed Herlin to the kitchen and watched as he dumped the towels into the cauldron hanging in the fireplace. Through the open doorway, pinned to the clothesline, were at least a dozen more towels, all of them covered with stains, not bright red stains like the ones on the towels Herlin carried, but pale brown stains, stains that didn’t come out in the wash.

“What can I get for you this morning?” Ruth said. Her smile was falsely bright.

“Nothing, Ruth. I’m not hungry.” Jessica couldn’t take her eyes away from that clothesline. “Please tell me those are not all from last night?”

Ruth nodded slowly.

Jessica took a breath to still the erratic beating in her chest. “I don’t understand. Yesterday he was doing so well. I just don’t understand.” She looked at Herlin. “What can I do to help? What can I do?”

Herlin shook his head. “The general, Etienne and Reverend Nash are taking good care of him. Ditter went for the doctor. There’s nothing more we can do.”

“Can I see him? Will he see me?”

Herlin fidgeted. “Come back with me and we’ll ask.”

Outside of the parlor, Jessica waited while Herlin lightly knocked and entered. He left the door open a crack. Through it she couldn’t see the bed, but she could hear. Julien was retching and the sounds coming from him were awful, worse somehow than any she’d heard from him before. Not because they were louder, but because they were so terribly feeble, so strangled. Etienne was softly murmuring consoling words to him.

She heard Herlin say, “Jessica would like to see him.”

There was long moment of silence before the general said quietly, “Okay, Jonny.”

Herlin slipped back out through the door. He shook his head dismally and said, “I’m sorry, Miss Jessica. It’s not a good idea right now.”

* * *

The doctor arrived and he stayed much longer than he usually did. At least it seemed that way to Jessica. Time had lost meaning. Every minute seemed liked hours, and there was nothing she could do but wait.

She waited and she waited. She sat in the library doing nothing. She paraded through the dining room and the foyer. She walked outside and paced the porch. From there she attempted to peer through the windows, but the curtains were drawn. She watched Herlin bring basins of water. She watched him retrieve soiled towels. He went to Julien’s bedroom and returned with clean night clothes and freshly laundered sheets. Still she waited.

When finally the doctor emerged, Sebastian was with him. By then Jessica’s patience had reached its end. “Please,” she pleaded, “please tell me what’s happening. Please let me see him.”

The doctor shook his head and went out the front door.

Sebastian grabbed her hand. “Come with me,” he said.

Jessica wanted to pull away, and she almost did, but his expression was so fierce, she was too startled to do anything but follow him. He took her to the library and sat beside her on the sofa.

“Jessica, I am sorry, but Jonny asked that we not let you in,” he said. “General McLean is adamant that we respect his wishes.”

Jessica already knew this. This wasn’t new information. Even so, it didn’t make it right, and the general had no justification for keeping her out. She was about to say so, when Sebastian added, “And I agree with him.”

“But why?” she implored.

“Honey, Jonny doesn’t want you to see him this way,” Sebastian said. “It’s best you stay away. It’s better for you not to have to remember him like this.”

* * *

They were wrong! If Jessica had learned anything in the last ten months it was that she had the ability to stand up for what she believed in. In this, Julien didn’t know what was best for her, and neither did Sebastian, General McLean, or anyone else.

She was still in the library, but alone now. Sebastian had left her to go back to the parlor. For a while she paraded the room. For a while she stared out the window. As hurt feelings slowly shifted to determination, she strode out. She was but a few yards away from the parlor doors when General McLean came through them.

Defiantly Jessica stared at him. She was done letting him rule over her. He opened his mouth to speak but she had no intention of listening to him. “This is my house! He is my husband and you can’t keep me from him!” Then she barreled forward, brushing right past him.

But she didn’t get far. He caught her arm in such a firm grip it spun her. “I was coming to get you. There’s—”

Jessica yanked her arm free and shoved him away.

“Mrs. Grace!” he demanded in a hushed shout. But then he lowered his voice and said, “I was coming to get you. He asked for you. He wants to see you one more time before—” He cut himself off and finished, “There’s not much time left.”

Jessica couldn’t remember this austere man ever breaking their eye contract first, but he did now. He bowed his head and turned away. Her hand was on the door knob, when she heard him say, “For whatever it’s worth, I am truly sorry.”

Jessica didn’t look back.

Hesitantly, silently, she pushed the door open. She saw Etienne first. He was standing near the piano. He looked exhausted, almost dazed, and she watched him run his fingers through his hair. There were sporadically dotted stains on his shirt, some of which looked like blood. He glanced at her briefly, but said nothing as he dropped into a chair. Jessica turned her attention to the bed.

Sebastian was seated on the side of it. His eyes were closed, but he opened them when he heard her. Quietly, he spoke to Julien. “Jessica’s here. And then you can sleep, Jonny. Then it will be alright for you to go to sleep.”

After that, he rose, vacating the spot on the bed. As he passed her, he gently patted her shoulder, but said nothing.

Jessica moved closer to the bed. Every time she’d seen her husband in the last five days, he’d been seated in a chair. She’d seen him lying on the bed before, but never under the blankets. He wasn’t propped up to a sitting position and he wasn’t dressed in his regular clothes.

He was lying flat, with pillows stuffed behind him to keep him at an angle, partially on his side. The white night shirt he wore was open at the collar. There were spatters of blood on the pillow and more on his gown. His right arm was stretched out under him. The other rested across his stomach on top of the thin bedspread. A ray of sunlight was sneaking through a crack in the curtain. It reflected off the wedding band on his finger, causing it to glint up at her.

Tentatively Jessica sat on the bed beside him, and she leaned close so she could better see his face. His hair was damp, like someone had run a wet comb through it. He hadn’t been shaved. His jaw was shadowed and rough. Beneath it, his skin was sallow and gray. His badly chapped lips were parted and had a bluish cast to them. He was breathing through them, gruelingly laboring for each drop of air. His bruised, sunken eyes were open, but barely, staring out blankly into the room.

As she took everything in, the surreal atmosphere that had been hovering since she came to Grace Manor came crashing down. It disappeared in an instant. And so did the last shreds of her hope. “Julien, it’s me,” she said softly.

He didn’t move at all. Not even the slightest twitch.

Because it seemed the right thing to do, she gently brushed her fingertips along his hair line, down his cheek and the length of his jaw. She took his hand firmly in hers and began caressing the top of it with her thumb.

She was there less than a minute when a thin stream of bright red spittle ran from the corner of his mouth. With a small cloth from the pile on the table by the bed, she tenderly wiped it away. He was so weak, so drained, he didn’t seem capable of moving any part of his body on his own, not even the slightest twitch of a finger, not even a flinch from his pain, not even the blink of his eyes. The expression on his face was dull, beaten, and it didn’t change.

Her hands trembled. Her heart pounded. His suffering was too painful to watch. Each raw, pitiful attempt he made just to breathe was like a knife stabbing into her heart. She had to swallow to find her voice. “Julien, I wish I could do something to help you, something to make this stop for you.” Her eyes blurred and it was difficult to find her own breath. She sniffled and swallowed and sniffled and swallowed again, struggling to keep her tears at bay.

Because he hadn’t looked at her, or acknowledged her presence in any way, she wondered whether he realized she was even there. If she hadn’t been paying close attention, she wouldn’t have noticed his attempt to speak. His lips didn’t move at all. Each barely audible word accompanied a gravelly intake of air. “Don… cry… Swee… har…” His efforts to use his endearment for her caused a fresh pool to gush into her eyes.

Forcing herself to remain in control, to be strong for him, because she needed to be strong for him, she began to pray, letting him know through her words to God, how much she appreciated everything he’d done for her and for all the other lives he touched so bravely and selflessly with his own. All the while she caressed his brow, his gaunt cheeks, his arms. She dampened his dry, parched lips with cool water. And then she held his hand, closed her eyes and finished reverently, “Dear God, please end his suffering. Please, God. Please.”

She opened her eyes to see his close. He was still breathing, and she hoped he would open his eyes again, but the seconds ticked by and he didn’t. His horrid, wheezing breaths grew fainter, each one less loud and slower than the last. She could almost see the strain in his face melt away.

She laid her hand on his chest. Even his heart beat felt shallow and wrong. But it was there. Barely.

“Julien, there’s something I need to tell you, something you need to know.” Her throat grew so tight she had to force herself to take a deep breath.

He didn’t respond to her at all.

She touched his face. “Julien?”

He didn’t stir.

Her next words came out of her in a panicked whisper, “Julien? Are you still there?”

His eyelids twitched.

“Julien?” She ran shaking fingertips along his jaw. “Please open your eyes. Just one more time. Please.”

He did.

She leaned over him, close to him and said softly, “What happened to our baby wasn’t your fault. I know you loved him. I know you held him in your hands when he was born. I want you to know I don’t blame you for what happened. I never did. I never thought it was your fault.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t look at her. Leaning closer, she kissed his temple and whispered, “He was the most fortunate baby in the world, because you were his father. He had a wonderful father, the best father any child could ever want.”

From the corner of his eye a single tear slipped out. More bloody spittle seeped from his mouth. Jessica wiped his face. She took another breath and whispered, “Please forgive yourself, Julien. Please. I forgive you.”

Gazing down at him, listening to his harsh, grating breath, wondering how he could possibly endure any more, she whimpered in anguish, “Dear God, I don’t understand! I don’t understand why this is happening to him. He doesn’t deserve this! Help him, God. Help him, please!”