The Vacant Chair (22 page)

She went to the den door, waited for Aggie to push it open and light a lamp. Heart heavy, Brianna moved inside, taking in the single brown leather armchair with its matching ottoman beside the fireplace. The seat and armrests were worn from use, and the pipe, tobacco and teacup were placed just as she’d been told. It looked like Mr. Thompson had just left the room and was expected back at any moment.

Her gaze lifted to the oil portrait suspended over the mantel. Justin’s father had been a handsome man, and his sons strongly resembled him except for their deep blue eyes. A dress sword she assumed was his lay displayed across the mantel. The dark green wallpaper might have made the room feel cozy if it hadn’t all seemed so dark and depressing. The room was a frozen tableau, as if he might walk back in and pick up his pipe, then sink into that chair next to the fire. Like he’d never been gone.

The Vacant Chair
, she thought with a hard swallow, remembering the song’s lyrics.

We shall meet but we shall miss him.

There will be one vacant chair.

We shall linger to caress him

When we breathe our evening prayer.

Now another chair sat vacant, this one next to the head of the table that everyone avoided. Mitch’s place, still set for him.

Her throat tightened. “Oh, Aggie.”

“Aye, almost breaks your heart, it does.”

“Bree?”

She whipped around at Justin’s voice and put a hand to her chest. He stood in the hall, his gaze troubled as he looked into the room. His shirt was rumpled, his eyes bloodshot, and if she stepped closer she knew she’d smell more whiskey on him. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

He merely stared at her, and she was afraid she’d intruded on something he would rather have kept private. “That’s my father,” he said finally, nodding at the portrait.

“Yes. You look like him. He was a handsome man.”

A frown drew his brows together. “I don’t remember much about him.” He sounded perplexed. “I was ten when he died.”

Being in here was making him even sadder. She stepped out with Aggie, closed the door behind her and took his hand. She felt guilty for intruding on his family’s privacy, even though she’d done nothing wrong.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I don’t mind you looking around. My mother’s behavior might make more sense now.” He pulled from her grasp and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. As though ashamed of it, or maybe the way he’d been avoiding her. She hoped it was the latter.

Yes, the room explained a lot. And now, more than ever, she knew that being here was toxic for her husband. The guilt and grief within these walls were slowly suffocating him. “Are you hungry? Aggie and I made a roast with gravy and—”

“No. Not hungry.”

She closed the gap between them and gripped his hand to re-establish the connection they’d been missing since their first night here. “You’ve hardly eaten anything since we’ve arrived.”

He averted his eyes and fidgeted as though he wanted to shake off her touch and leave. And maybe he did. “I have some things to take care of in town,” he said, glancing at her. “Will you be all right with Aggie?”

Why shouldn’t I be? I’ve spent nearly all my time here with her because you’ve been avoiding me like some kind of contagious disease.
No, she couldn’t say that to him. The last thing she wanted was to drive him further away. “I’ll be fine. When will you be back?”

Again he withdrew his hand from hers. “Not sure. Few hours, maybe.”

He couldn’t stand to be in the house. That was why he was gone so often, and she couldn’t blame him for wanting to escape. But where did he go? Besides out to drink. Riding aimlessly? Or to his brother’s grave tucked beneath the oak tree? She hated that he shut her out. She wanted to ease his suffering, prove to him how much she loved him.

Brianna forced her frustration down. They’d be leaving here soon enough. For now, she couldn’t do anything but let him work through this on his own and pray he’d revert back to the man she’d fallen in love with once they left. But given his imminent return to the war and hers to Richmond, his neglect of her was all the more hurtful.

“Just be careful,” she said, because it was all she had left to say.

He gave her a half smile and bent to kiss her. A slow, lingering kiss that made her heart beat faster and filled her with hope. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you later.”

No, you won’t,
she thought, watching him walk away. As the front door closed with a thud behind him, she knew she’d be spending yet another night alone in his bed.

Chapter Twenty Two

At breakfast the next morning, Brianna found Justin already at the table. He offered a tentative smile and rose to kiss her before pulling out a chair for her beside him.

“Good morning,” she said, trying to keep things on an even footing. “Sleep well?”

“Fine,” he answered, not meeting her eyes as he poured them both coffee from the steaming pot Aggie must have set out. His eyes seemed redder, the shadows below them darker, his whiskers dark on his unshaven face.

Let it go,
she warned herself, resisting the surge of her temper. It wasn’t as if she was suspicious that he’d gone to find comfort in another woman’s arms. Blasting him was only going to alienate him more, but it wasn’t easy to hold her tongue. She hadn’t married him to be alone, and she hated that he was hurting.

Someone knocked on the front door. He excused himself, no doubt eager to escape her scrutiny, and reappeared a minute later with the last person on earth she wanted to see.

Laurel Stevens swept into the room and greeted her with a brittle smile. Brianna set down her cup and stood to face her, a hard knot forming in her stomach. “Good morning.” She did her best to keep her tone civil. Was it her imagination, or did Justin seem even more uncomfortable? He wouldn’t look at either of them.

Laurel held her stiff smile. “Good morning. You look lovely.”

Do I.
Gritting her teeth, Brianna indicated a chair across from her. “Please, join us.”

Laurel hesitated, tilting her head questioningly at Justin as if there was some doubt whether she would join them. Whatever she’d come to say, Brianna would find out soon enough.

When Justin pulled out Laurel’s chair, she sat and accepted the basket of rolls Brianna passed her. The silence was already grating on her nerves.

“I heard Justin had married and brought you home, and I wanted to congratulate you in person,” Laurel began in a pleasant tone Brianna knew was as forced as her smile.

“I’m so glad you came,” she answered sweetly, shooting her husband a sharp look out of the corner of her eye.

Laurel took a piece of ham from the platter. “Justin swears you saved his life at the hospital. I wanted to thank you for that.”

She avoided the other woman’s assessing gaze. “I did what I could for him. He’s lucky he’s as strong as he is, or he might not have pulled through.”

“By strong, do you mean stubborn?”

“My, you do know him well, don’t you?”

She shrugged, a secretive smile playing about her lips as she cast a sideways glance at him. “Fairly well, yes.”

Brianna’s hand tightened around her fork at the innuendo. She’d already been in a bad mood, and now her temper was at a simmer.

Rather than respond to the loaded comment, Justin focused on his breakfast before at last addressing Laurel. “You look well.” His polite words did little to dispel the lingering awkwardness. It was obvious he was less than thrilled to see her here.

Laurel beamed. “Thank you.” Her eyes strayed to the doorway before she asked in a hushed tone, “How is your mother?”

His hand froze around his cutlery. “She’s…the same.”

“Oh.” Her brown eyes softened. “She seemed to perk up somewhat when I stopped by last week.”

Brianna fought not to narrow her eyes at the other woman, uncertain whether it was a verbal barb or not.

“I’d hoped you and your new wife being here would have helped,” Laurel finished.

Brianna wouldn’t bet on that.

“It hasn’t so far,” Justin said.

Laurel looked at her with what seemed like genuine sympathy in her eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see her like this. She usually is a likeable woman.”

Grief could make people become unrecognizable. Brianna knew that better than anyone. “She’s been through a difficult time.”

“Yes, it’s been very hard on her. I’ve stopped by a few times to visit, and she’s always kept to her bed. My father has tried also, but…”

But she always refused their company.

Laurel suddenly stiffened in her chair. Justin’s head snapped up.

Brianna swiveled in her chair and found a ghost standing in the doorway. Mrs. Thompson raked her deep-set eyes over each of them, looking frail enough that a puff of wind would have knocked her off her feet. Shrouded by her black clothing, her skin was so pale she might have been a specter. A collective tension took over the room as everyone held their breath and waited for some sign of greeting from her.

Justin rose and went to her. “Good morning, Mother.” He took her bony arm and brought her to the table. “Come sit down and eat with us. Laurel came by to congratulate us, and to inquire after your health.”

Mrs. Thompson blinked and swallowed, the convulsive movement exaggerated by the thinness of her throat. Her condition appalled Brianna. What physician would allow her to consume such quantities of laudanum as to turn her into a walking corpse? Brianna slid her chair over to make room for her husband, assuming he would place his mother at the head of the table.

Mrs. Thompson dug her heels in, and Justin shot her a questioning look.

She swayed on her feet, and Brianna instinctively jumped up to help catch her in case she toppled.

Raising a fragile white hand to her mouth, her mother-in-law’s gaunt eyes fixed on the empty chair next to the one Justin had pulled out for her.

Mitch’s chair.

Brianna’s heart sank, aching for her husband even as she braced for his mother’s reaction.

“That…” Mrs. Thompson’s voice was raspy, hoarse from lack of use and unshed tears. “That was my baby’s place.”

Brianna bit down on the inside of her cheek, sharing a worried glance with Justin.

“Come sit and eat something,” he urged again, making a noticeable effort to curb his usual air of command into something gentler.

His mother wrenched her arm away and hit him with a glare so hostile it made Brianna’s skin prickle. “He should be here. With us.” Venom spewed from her eyes. “It’s
your
fault he’s gone. Why didn’t you look after him?” She fired the awful words like bullets. “You should have protected him.”

Brianna and Laurel gasped, but Justin only stared at his mother and tightened his jaw, fighting back a response. It would have been kinder if she’d used a weapon instead of those bitter words, thrown like daggers into his heart. Brianna’s hands clenched around her napkin as she waited for Justin to put her in her place, to say something in his defense. He didn’t. He simply watched his mother with anger simmering in his eyes, nostrils flaring.

Mrs. Thompson shook her head and wrung her bony hands. “Why did you come back here? To remind me of what I lost every time I look at you? Parade your Rebel wife in front of me to gloat of your happiness when I suffer every minute with the knowledge that my baby is lying frozen in his
grave?
”

Brianna held her breath, appalled.

Justin’s eyes turned wintry. “That’s enough.” His voice was hard, icy.

His mother wasn’t done. “This is still
my
house. I never asked you to come back!” Her tone rose to a shrill pitch, her eyes glistening, lips trembling. “Just
go.
I don’t want you here. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“Siobhan!”

Brianna’s gaze snapped to Aggie, who barreled through from the kitchen with murder in her eyes. She marched up and grabbed her mistress’s arm, dragging her out of the room and up the stairs as her voice carried back to them. “How dare ye speak to him like that? Have ye gone daft? That boy’s all you’ve got left, and I’ll not stand by and let ye abuse him to vent your bile.” A door slammed upstairs.

In the yawning silence that followed, Justin stood there as if he’d been shot. And he had been. In the heart.

Brianna reached for his hand in an offer of comfort.

“Don’t.” He yanked away from her grasp like she’d burned him, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment. And beneath it all, a stark grief that made her want to cry. “If you’ll both excuse me,” he muttered. He stormed out the front door and slammed it shut behind him. The sound reverberated off the vaulted ceiling.

Brianna exhaled and rubbed a hand over her face. This was a nightmare.

Laurel shifted uneasily next to the table, her eyes wide, the animosity between her and Brianna evaporating in the face of Mrs. Thompson’s tirade.“I didn’t know it was this bad. I can’t believe she said that.”

But she had. Brianna’s chest felt too tight, like an iron band squeezed it. Justin had already been suffering, and this would wound him deeply. As long as she lived, she’d never forget his gut-wrenching expression when his mother had lit into him. Her temper went from a simmer to a rolling boil. Rather than squelch it, Brianna let it burn. And it felt
good.

Justin wasn’t going to stand up to his mother. He felt too guilty, too responsible for her emotional state and wouldn’t risk upsetting her further, lest she do something desperate and attempt to take her own life. But things had gone too far and Brianna refused to stand idly by any longer. Should she interfere with her mother-in-law? She wanted to. Would he forgive her for it, or would she only make things worse? Either way, she refused to watch that woman destroy Justin, no matter how terrible her grief was.

The slamming of her heart against her ribs answered for her. Her blood was up. There was no stopping the inevitable now.

Ignoring Laurel, she stormed past her up the stairs and threw open the master bedroom door to find the cavernous space illuminated by a single candle. Aggie was already settling her mistress beneath the covers of the massive four-post bed. Brianna paused a moment in the doorway, grasping at the reins of her control.

Catching sight of her, Aggie and her mother-in-law both started.

Mrs. Thompson’s eyes rounded, then narrowed to slits. “You were not invited—”

“There’s something I need to discuss with you,” Brianna said flatly.

The woman raised her chin in a haughty manner. “This is my private chamber. I have nothing to say to you.”

Brianna set her jaw and counted to ten, all the while holding that sunken gaze. “Well
I
have something to say to
you.
” Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths. Her heart was pounding out of control, her hands were shaking, her breath sticking in her throat. It took all her restraint not to yell her next words. “Justin may remind you of Mitchell every time you look at him, but he’s all you have left.” His mother opened her mouth to snap something, but Brianna cut her off. “I know about the laudanum. You might think it’s helping, but I promise you it’s making things worse.”

The bony fingers clutched at the blanket pulled up to her waist. “How
dare
you.”

Brianna edged closer to the bed, fought to keep from shouting. Aggie was backing away, staring at her with a mixture of apprehension and interest. “How dare
you
accuse Justin of not protecting his brother? It was battle! He was there when Mitchell died. For that alone, do you not think he’s suffered enough? Do you not think he blames himself anyway, even though there was nothing he could have done to prevent it?”

“You know nothing—
nothing
—about a mother’s grief for her child.” Bright red flags stained the prominent cheekbones, garish against her unnatural pallor.

“You’re right, I don’t. What I do know is that you’re venting your bitterness on your only surviving child.”

Those eyes filled with raw grief and rage. “You’ve never grown your babies inside you, suffered the agony of their birth and raised them alone because your husband is killed in a war, only to see both your children off to the next one and then only one of them comes home.”

No, Brianna didn’t know how that felt. But she knew exactly what loss felt like, and she didn’t want to feel it again by losing Justin. She leaned closer to her. “Exactly. Did it ever occur to you that next time
he
might not come home either?”

Deep-set sapphire eyes glared up at her, and Brianna noted the trembling in the woman’s lower lip.

Sensing her point was being made, Brianna continued. “The war isn’t over. Justin’s going back to his regiment in one week, and
he might not come back
this time
.
As it is, it might be too late to fix what you’ve done. Is that what you want?”

The graying head snapped aside, but Brianna caught the worried frown on the woman’s face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Brianna choked down the tears clogging her throat. The worst of her anger had passed, and now the grief was taking over. She could barely get the words out, but she’d be damned if she’d give this callous, selfish woman the satisfaction of seeing her cry. “Can’t you see you’re killing him? And I will not permit it to continue another moment. I love him too much. Aggie? Give me the medicine.” She held out her palm in silent demand. Aggie gaped at her, then, after a frozen moment walked over to gingerly place the bottle of laudanum into Brianna’s hand.

Her mother-in-law’s gaze fixed on it with greedy attention, an addict’s panic gleaming in her eyes as she realized Brianna meant to take it away.

Brianna didn’t let the fear in the other woman’s gaze dissuade her. “Your grief is poisoning everyone in this house. How do you think Justin will suffer when your addiction to this kills you too?”