The Vacant Chair (23 page)

Mrs. Thompson slapped the hand holding the bottle away, her eyes spitting flames. “
Get out
.”

With pleasure.
Brianna drew a steadying breath. “Very well. But starting now, you will be weaned off the laudanum.”

Her skeletal fingers twitched, her distress obvious as she stared at the bottle in Brianna’s hand as though she couldn’t live without it. A sheen of perspiration dampened her forehead. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh yes, I would. Aggie knows where all the bottles are hidden, and if there are others, be assured we’ll find them all. I intend to visit your physician to discuss it with him today.” With that, she whirled and left the room, still riding the wave of righteous anger.

At the foot of the stairs, she heard a strangled sound and looked back. On the upper landing, Aggie stood smothering a laugh, grinning at her. “Glory be, lass, never in my life have I seen the missus so cowed by anyone, not even Mr. Brandon, bless his soul.”

Her temper was fading, leaving her feeling tired and drained. “Well, her suffering’s far from over. Withdrawal from laudanum is going to be an ugly process.”

Laurel came out of the dining room then, an almost wistful expression on her face. She gave Brianna a sad smile, seemed to struggle to speak for a moment. When she found her voice at last, it was hoarse with unshed tears. “That was so brave of you. We should have had that confrontation with her long ago.” She faltered for a moment before continuing. “I can see why he loves you so much. I didn’t think any woman would be worthy of him.” She swallowed. “But I see now that I was wrong.”

Brianna didn’t reply, too stunned to answer.

Laurel drew in a shaky breath, her smile poignant. “I’m glad he’s got you to stand by him.”

More of her anger dissipated as she realized what the younger woman
wasn’t
saying. Laurel had, at least in her mind, loved him. Deeply. Maybe she still did. Brianna’s heart went out to her. Losing a man like Justin would be a bitter pill indeed. “I will always take care of him,” she said, both her words and tone making it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate any further attention from Laurel toward her husband. “I love him.”

A mist of tears filled those pretty brown eyes. “Yes. I can see that you do.”

Brianna knew they’d reached an understanding. “Thank you.” Turning on her heel, she left Laurel in the dining room and went to find her coat. What Justin would say about all this was anyone’s guess, but Brianna was betting it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Chapter Twenty Three

Staring down at the white marble headstone while the cold wind whipped at his clothing, Justin felt the bleakness overtake him. Coming here had been a huge mistake, and one he bitterly regretted. Now Brianna had seen the madness inside his mother, and he’d been moody and withdrawn since they’d arrived. He wished Mitch were here so he could talk to him, but instead he lay six feet beneath Justin’s feet, his grave covered in a pristine blanket of snow.

A horse snorted off to the right.

Justin jerked his head around to find Brianna riding toward him. The wind tugged at her hair and coat. “What are you doing out here?” She had to be freezing. He rushed up as she dismounted and closed his hands about her waist to lower her to the ground. “It’s too cold to be riding, and the horse could have tripped and thrown you—”

“I suppose you’ve forgotten I was born and raised on a horse farm? Kentucky gets plenty of snow, so I’m familiar with winter riding.” Her cheeks and nose were pink from the cold, her thin gloves inadequate protection from it.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said with a smile. He raised her hands to his mouth and blew on them, rubbed them together to warm them. She shivered, and he pulled her to his chest, enfolding her in his arms. It felt good to hold her. As though she’d been craving that closeness, she pressed nearer, her cheek resting over his heart. He kissed her temple and eased his head away slightly. “You came out here to find me?”

She nodded, her hair brushing his chin. “Thought you might be here.”

He glanced toward the snow-covered grave. “I needed some air. Some time to think.” Before he would have said or done something he couldn’t take back.

Brianna folded her arms across her chest and stepped back, regarding him with a guilty expression. She let out a heavy sigh. “You should know that I confronted your mother.”

She hadn’t.
Yet he could tell by the look on her face that she had. He groaned and let her go, raking his fingers through his windblown hair. “For God’s sake, Bree.” The whole thing was an unmitigated disaster, and now Brianna was involved in it.

“I’m not sorry. If you’re not willing to defend yourself, then someone has to.”

“You don’t understand,” he said tiredly.

“I understand perfectly.” She drew a deep breath, paused as though gathering her mettle. “And I’ve just come from seeing her physician.” He raised a brow in surprise but she continued. “He’s agreed to wean her off the laudanum completely, beginning today.”

He ran a hand over his face before answering. “Christ, that’s going to make her even worse.” Hard to believe, but true.

“Initially, yes. But if she doesn’t stop the addiction, she’ll die.” She cocked her head. “And, in light of the way things stand, I think perhaps we should leave and wait until things have calmed down a bit before coming back to visit her.”

He turned away, hands on hips as he stared at Mitch’s grave. A full minute passed before he replied. “You’re right.” He tipped his head towards the dull gray sky. “I should never have brought you here.” What the hell had he been
thinking
? This was their honeymoon, for God’s sake. “I should have known better when I suspected she’d be like this.”

 “She’s your mother. It’s only natural for you to be worried about her and want to take care of her. But you can’t help her the way she is right now. She’s too wrapped up in her own pain and drowning herself with the laudanum so she doesn’t have to face reality. I’m sorry if you’re angry with me, but I—”

“Bree.” His voice was quiet as he reached out a hand and caught hers. Her breath snagged. Would his touch always affect her so much? He hoped so. He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m not angry. I’m touched that you would go to such lengths to defend me, but I can take care of myself. You don’t need to defend me. Not from my mother or anything else.” He would have confronted his mother this morning had he not been so taken aback by her attack.

Brianna’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink. Her gaze dropped to her boots, buried ankle-deep in the snow. She had to be freezing. “She was cruel to you. I didn’t like it.”

His lips quirked. “I could tell.” The grin faded as he looked back at the grave. “She’s worse this time, much worse than she was with my father, but in a way she’s right. I can only hurt her by being here. Mitch looked so much like me.” He strode over to take her horse’s bridle and brought the animal to her. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house before you catch your death out here.”

Justin helped her into the saddle and swung onto own his horse beside her. He’d never seen her on horseback before. She cut a fine figure, straight and confident as she handled the horse with effortless skill.

His watched her appreciatively, noted the sensual heat in her eyes as she smiled up at him. “You have a fine seat,” he remarked.

She laughed. “I should, since I learned to ride before I could walk.” With a challenging look at him, she set her heels to her mount’s sides and tore off through the snow.

Behind her, Justin gave a bark of laughter and joined the chase. It felt good to be out galloping across the snow with her. Freeing. Bending low over his horse’s neck, he savored the powerful surge of the animal beneath him, the frigid wind blowing over his face and through his hair. Brianna’s hair came loose of its pins and trailed behind her in a dark auburn banner. Justin was right behind her, the drumming of hoof beats loud over the hush of the wintry landscape.

When the stable at last came into view, she slowed to a walk, let Justin come abreast of her and gave him a saucy smile. They’d be so good together at Greenbriar, where they could have a fresh start. He wanted to help her make the most of the legacy her father had left her.

She beamed up at him. “Ever think of running a horse farm?”

He tousled her hair, grinning. “You know, I might like to try that.” He wrapped his gloved fingers around her hand and squeezed. “I’ve never been to Kentucky.”

“I think you’d love it.”

He flashed her an adoring smile. “With you there, how could I not?”

Her face lit up at those simple words, and it seemed like the tension of the past few days fell away. They led their horses into the stable, passed them to the stableman and started for the house, arm in arm.

 Justin stopped at the walkway leading to the house and took her face in his hands. “I’ll handle my mother from now on, all right? I never meant to put you in a position where you would have to do that for me.”

“I know.”

He turned his head to stare at the front door, that now-familiar knot forming in his stomach. “What do you think? Do we risk going in?” he asked in a joking tone, though he knew he couldn’t avoid what was coming. This altercation with his mother was long overdue.

“Better than freezing out here,” Brianna answered with a supportive smile. “And besides, you’re a cavalry major. I’m sure you know how to execute a tactical withdrawal when you need to.”

Oh, but he wouldn’t withdraw from this battlefield. Not when it involved Brianna’s future as well. Justin set an arm about her shoulders and started up the steps. She cringed at the shrieks coming from inside and glanced uncertainly up at him. He bent and pressed a firm kiss to her mouth. “Stay downstairs while I handle this. There’s no reason for you to be in the line of fire this time.” He climbed the rest of the steps with her, determination radiating from every line of his body.

****

When the grandfather clock chimed two in the morning, Brianna opened her eyes. Sitting up, she found herself in the same state as when she’d gone to bed four hours prior. Alone.

The other side of the bed didn’t show a single wrinkle, and there was no indentation in the pillow. Justin had once again chosen to sleep elsewhere, no matter how things had improved between them earlier. Well, there would be no more of this sleeping alone nonsense.

She sat up and threw back the covers, her bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.

She marched to the guestroom in her nightgown and wrapper, but found it empty. Maybe Justin was getting himself drunk again. Her jaw flexed. She was sick to death of the way he avoided her and insisted on working out his misery alone. Worse, she hated her helplessness, despised being unable to soothe him.

She hadn’t seen him since his confrontation with his mother that afternoon. From the volume of their voices coming from the end of the hall, it had been ugly, but she’d resisted the urge to lend a hand, instead staying in their room as he’d asked. Whatever his mother had said to him, it must have been awful, because he’d slammed out of the house and ridden away into town.

Rushing downstairs, she almost missed the hushed creak of a floorboard. She stilled, waiting, then crept toward the library and saw his silhouette outlined against the window. His hands were braced on the sill as he stared out into the night. She stayed where she was, hurt even more because he must have heard her coming down the stairs and hadn’t said a word. She felt the chill of it all the way to her heart.

She swallowed. “Justin, why are you avoiding me?”

He glanced over his shoulder at her and she bit her lip. The raw suffering in his face made her throat clench. She hugged herself for warmth, standing there in the shadows in her nightgown. He turned his head away.

Her stomach dropped at his dismissal. Perhaps he blamed her for the argument between him and his mother. She squared her shoulders. “You won’t even speak to me?”

He didn’t answer, only bent his head as if it was too heavy to lift under the burden of his misery. Did he regret marrying her? Was he feeling trapped? His silence was answer enough.

“Fine,” she said, pivoting on her heel.

“Wait.”

She stopped at his weary command, fearful of what he would say.

“It’s not you.”

She half turned. “Then talk to me.”

When he spoke again, his voice vibrated with suppressed emotion. “I can still hear him screaming.” The muscles in his back and shoulders tensed under his rumpled shirt.

Her heart turned over. She didn’t know what to say to ease his pain and was afraid to push, but she needed him to talk to her. “What happened to him?”

Justin ran a hand over his chin, looking so weary.

She took a hesitant step forward. “Please tell me.”

His bloodshot eyes cut over to her, the pain in their depths hitting her like a fist. “He died in my arms. Did I tell you that?”

She shook her head, praying he’d open up. He looked so haunted she almost gave in and stopped pushing. But then he would never heal, and if this wall stayed between them, their marriage would never last. “You never said anything about what happened.”

He swallowed and stared out the window, seemed to collect himself. “Shell fragment. Ripped him right open.” His hand motioned across his own belly. “He was terrified. In agony. I couldn’t do anything. Not a damn thing.”

Brianna stayed where she was, fighting the urge to hold him. She knew exactly what that kind of helplessness felt like, but to be holding your own brother when he died that way… “I’m so sorry.”

“He screamed, Brianna. God, his screams.” A shaky hand raked through his hair. “I could see his intestines coming out.”

Brianna forced herself not to flinch.
Sweet God.

“At the end he said he couldn’t see. That it was dark. I thought it was because his eyes were failing already, but now I wonder if he meant he didn’t see the light people are supposed to see when they die. The light that’s supposed to take them to heaven.” His eyes were tortured as he looked over his shoulder at her. “What if there isn’t anything more, Bree? What if he knew there wasn’t a heaven?”

She struggled to think of something comforting. “None of us can know for sure. That’s why it’s called faith.”

“Faith,” he scoffed, anger glinting in his eyes. “You really think God’s up there? You’ve seen what war does to men. With hundreds of thousands of us butchering and killing each other in this war, both sides praying to the same God, you still believe He exists?”

“Yes.” And she believed in heaven as well, because of Caleb and her parents.

“My brother bled to death on that field at Cedar Creek, screaming and choking on his own blood. He didn’t want to die—he was goddamn terrified. He begged me to help him—” His voice cracked and he bent over to grab the windowsill with white-knuckled hands. “Jesus!” A strangled sob escaped him.

She couldn’t watch him suffer like this. Brianna crossed the room and laid a hand on his trembling back. He flinched and pulled away, fighting for control, but not for another second would she let him bear this alone. Her fingers wrapped around his hand. It was freezing.

He twisted away as though he couldn’t bear her touch. “Don’t. I can’t… I don’t…”

She needed to hold him. Bracing herself in case he shoved her away, she pressed against his back and slid both arms around his waist. He went rigid, sucking in a deep breath. She held on harder. A tremor rippled through him. Then another, and she realized what it meant. He was crying, and doing everything possible not to.

His devastation broke her heart. Still unsure of her welcome, she laid her cheek against his back and gave him the wordless comfort of her embrace, afraid to say anything. She curved her body around his and stayed like that until the tremors subsided. Though his breathing evened out, the tension in his muscles remained. Was he angry? She lifted her head. “Justin?”