The Sun Rises (Southern Legacy Book 4) (13 page)

“This way, Captain,” the sentry with pocked-mark skin called to him. Cullen followed across the creaking old floor. From an open door on the left, a voice barked, “In here, Captain Smythe.”

“Come in, come in. Superintendent Wood.” He extended his hand to Cullen. “I only just received word of your coming. I have to say I’m happy she is being released. It has put a lot upon me to keep her as I had been ordered…” His voice faded as he glanced up at Cullen’s sullen face.

Wood breathed in deeply and accepted Josephine’s release papers. “You brought the necessary orders. Good.” He studied them only for a moment and pulled out a ledger. “Sign here and I’ll have you escorted upstairs to retrieve the prisoner.”

Cullen nodded. The quicker the better. He followed a sergeant up the stairs. The drafty, creaking building smelled, a mixture of sorts, disinfectant and foul odor… Heaven knew what else. On the second floor landing, a curt guard sat on a stool outside a room.

“Arty,” the sergeant called out. “She’s going home. Open up.”

The guard knocked loudly on the door. He put his hand out. “Give her a minute. Always have to. It ain’t proper.”

Cullen wanted to push the door in. He didn’t have time for this. Finally, the guard slipped a key in the lock and swung the door back. He entered.

A wave of guilt surged through Cullen. The cell was small with only a chair, a few books on the floor, and a slop jar to the far left. The unwashed window had no blinds or shades, but his eyes fixed on the small cot. A slight figure sat with her knees pulled into her. Her head lifted as he moved toward her. Her eyes widened.

By God, what had they done to the beautiful woman he had left behind! Her face was so thin. Her eyes had never seemed so large, but it was also the eyes that bothered him most. There was no light in them. “Josephine,” he uttered.

“Captain, she don’t talk,” the guard offered. “In her sleep, sometimes she calls out for her babies.”

Slowly, Cullen walked over to her.

Josephine recoiled from his grasp.

He reached over and pulled her to her feet. “I’m taking you out of here.”

She shook her head. “I’m not giving in. I will never.” No sooner had Jo uttered the words, her legs buckled. She swayed and then fainted.

Cullen picked her up. She was as light as a feather. He wasn’t going to waste time in this hellhole. He said nothing to anyone else and no one dared to counter his intent. He carried her out of the prison.

* * * *

Washington was a crowded city: government officials, officials from foreign embassies, soldiers—lots and lots of soldiers—and the families of those men inhabited the capital. Cullen felt fortunate to have obtained a suite at the Carrington Hotel.

The carriage began to slow. He looked over at the unconscious Josephine, who fidgeted and grimaced as if in pain. Her eyes flittered, and then opened wide. She stared at him in silence, but did not seem surprised. He supposed she had expected him to show up eventually.

Suddenly at a loss for words, he said, “We are at the hotel.”

Only then did she show her anxiety, nervously patting her dirty hair…her dress. “I can’t go in the front door,” she whispered. “Not like this.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have a choice.” He gave her no indication that a wave of sympathy swept through him. Her dress was somewhat clean, considering she had been sitting in a prison cell. But the smell of the place lingered on her. Her hair seemed plastered on her head in an unflattering manner. “No one will take notice. I will call for a bath immediately.” Instantly, he regretted the words.

She glanced at him as if he had slapped her across the face.

What was he supposed to say? He sighed impatiently as the carriage door opened. After he descended the steps, he offered Jo his hand.

Cullen watched her call upon all her poise and dignity, bravely tilting her head back. He gave her his arm, but he had been wrong when he had told her no one would notice. Eyes fell upon Josephine in question. He patted her hand as he could hear whispers that joined the stares.

The desk clerk moved in such a manner as to intercept Cullen.

Thankfully, Hugh appeared at the counter at that precise moment. His arms filled with packages and a bouquet of flowers. “Don’t go there, good man. A room has already been procured for the lady, who has endured much these last few months. You don’t want to cause any problem with us, I assure you. You can send the manager, though. We do have a few requests,” Hugh cautioned the desk clerk and smiled over at Josephine. “You don’t know how good it is to see you. As you can tell, I have spent the morning accumulating necessities I felt you might need.”

Hugh leaned over to Cullen. “We have two reporters looking for a story in the lobby. You need to get her upstairs as quickly as possible.” Hugh gave Cullen the necessary time to scuttle Josephine to the stairs, and then he paused the manager who had appeared. “Now, I believe the lady will require a bath and quite a large meal. We will be celebrating. It is a good day.”

The manager looked confused but Hugh had handed him a few bills. Glancing down at his palm, a large grin formed. “I will see to everything.”

Upstairs, Cullen opened the door to the suite, keeping the door open long enough for Hugh to enter. Hugh hustled in, ignoring Cullen. He flung the packages down on the sofa, except for the bouquet of flowers, yellow roses.

“I know you have missed your flowers.” Hugh spoke to Josephine as if he had known her all his life.

Her eyes softened upon the sight and accepted them. Her head bent down and took in a deep breath. The fragrance seemed to invigorate her. “Thank you.”

Cullen stood to the side. Why the hell did it bother him so that Hugh had brought her flowers? Why the hell couldn’t he act as Hugh? To make her believe she was as she was before they threw her into that hellhole. He watched as his irritation grew.

* * * *

Night had fallen. Hugh had long left, as had the doctor who Cullen had called. Biting off the end of the cigar, Cullen took a deep breath and lit it. Blowing out smoke, he stared out the window at the lights of Washington.

Again he waited.

Tomorrow…tomorrow his father was arriving with his son.

Was she sleeping, he wondered. The doctor had recommended an extended rest. “Physically, she should recover with rest and food.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means she needs her children. That was all she kept saying.”

Deep in thought, he didn’t hear the door open behind him.

“Cullen?”

He turned. For a moment, he was taken back in time. Her raven hair, washed and combed out, hung down below her waist; her face soft in the night light. She had changed to a fresh nightgown that Hugh had bought for her. Another shortcoming he had failed in.

The white nightgown silhouetted her figure underneath. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. God, he was in bad shape, for he wanted her. He must be a sick man.

He pulled the cigar out of his mouth. “Yes,” he said curtly. “The doctor left something if you couldn’t sleep.”

She shook her head as she moved across the room. “We haven’t talked…” She hesitated. “I know how you feel.” She shook her head at him before he could deny anything. “Don’t. I really don’t feel like debating or arguing. My one concern is my children. I need to know what you plan to do about Percival.”

“You aren’t wasting time denying he’s mine now?”

Her eyes met his. “Don’t go there. Wade is his father. He gave him his name, an honorable name. Don’t take that away to hurt me.”

“He’s mine,” Cullen replied forcibly. “Do you know how I feel being denied that fact? Do you know what it feels like to have a child and not be able to acknowledge him?”

“I have had a long time to think.” She sat down on the sofa. Her eyes locked on his. “What did you want me to do? Tell me? What could I have done differently to alleviate your pride, your hurt, your pain?” Her look prompted a blunt reply.

“You should have come with me. If not immediately, I would have come back for you.”

Her eyes flared, the first response he had seen from her.

“How dare you? How dare you?” she repeated, fuming. The room fell into silence, deadly silence. Finally, she questioned, “Have you not thought once about how I felt? What do you think I felt when I was told I had to marry Wade? What did you do to stop it? You told me…promised me everything would be fine. You held me in your arms and told me you loved me. I held to that hope until it was almost too late. I did the only thing I could have done, but once it was done, I could not go back. If you thought differently, you never knew me.”

Cullen shot her a stabbing look and countered, “I never wanted you to marry Wade. Do you think I gave a damn about Magnolia Bluff? I cared only about you. I wanted only you.”

“Then you had time to take me away, Cullen, before you went to rescue Gillie. You had time...” Her voice faded. Her face fell into her hands.

For a long moment, Jo hid her face. Then she shook her head. “This will get us nowhere. If you don’t understand I did it all for my child, for his honor…to be able to live with my conscience, there is nothing I can do to convince you now. I realized when Wade told me you were set to kidnap Percival from me how much you hated me. Now, my question to you is what is going to happen to Percival?”

The room seemed to tilt and blur. Anger burned in Cullen, but at the moment he didn’t know whether it was at the woman in front of him or himself. He said soundly, “He will be with me.”

Pressing her lips together, she sat back as pain swept across her face. “I realize that I am in no position to ask. I am homeless and have nothing but my love for my child. In truth, I don’t know how I’m to keep Madeline and myself. I can’t go back to Magnolia Bluff. I doubt I will ever be able to return after everything that has occurred. I have racked my brain, Cullen, trying to desperately come up with a semblance of a plan.

“I was hoping that maybe you could find it in your heart to find me a place of employment. I was thinking perhaps a housekeeper. I love to teach but I doubt I could find work as such in the North. If I could just be close to him…please don’t take him from me.”

Cullen frowned. “I don’t believe finding you employment will be feasible. I was going to wait until in the morning, but you realize that there were conditions to your release. You don’t think you simply walked out?”

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he watched the whole of her body tense. He walked closer to her. She shrank back into the sofa, pulling her feet up to her much like he had seen her in the morning.

Jo shook her head. “No, please don’t send me back. Cullen, please.” She began to rock. “I haven’t done anything. Please, let me see my children. I only want to see my children. I can’t go on…”

What was wrong with her?
He gripped her shoulders and pulled her up to him.

Her hands clutched his loosened shirt. “Please.” Her eyes looked frantically at him. “Don’t do this. I can’t take more. I have lost everything except my children.”

Suddenly, she withdrew. “Is that what you want? You want me destroyed. You want me dead!” Jo fell on her knees. Her mind wandered. She began to ramble. “Oh, my God! Madeline. Who will look after her? My baby. Will Percival know…?”

Bending down, Cullen pulled her back up to him.
Hysterical, she kept shaking her head, mumbling incoherent words, not listening to a word he said in an attempt to calm her.
Restraint lost, he shouted, “Shut up! Shut up!” He drew back his hand and caught himself only a moment before he would have struck her.

Shocked, her eyes widened in fear…fear of him.

God in Heaven! What had he almost done?
He had come so close to hitting her…physically hurting her. The next moment, he pulled her to him.

Josephine pushed back with everything she had, but he was stronger.

She broke into sobs.

Cullen let her cry.

****

Cullen held her, his shirt damp from her tears. He had lost his sense of time…he didn’t care. It had been so long since he had held her in his arms. How many nights on board ship had he dreamed of her? No matter what he had vehemently denied—he did love her.

It was himself who he hated.

He hated he hadn’t taken her away the first night they landed in Charleston. He hated he hadn’t given her an option when he had gone back for her. He hated to admit that damn honor and duty that she held to so fervently, he had also.

He had left her, not she him.

For the first time, he admitted to himself his own shortcomings. Was it his own jealousy that drove him? That she had chosen to make a life for herself and her child?

Or was it that Wade accepted Percival as his own?

Wade…oh, dear Lord…he was jealous of his cousin. Cullen thought he knew Wade so well. But to react the way Wade had and become the man he had died, there had to be only one reason: his love for Josephine.

The thought plagued Cullen—did Josephine return that love?

His own father had written of what a fine boy Percival was. His father knew; from his letter he readily understood.