03 - Dreams of Destiny

by May McGoldrick

  “My child is dead, though. She did not need to pay for my sins.”

  “Nor did she,” Millicent said with feeling. “At the best of times, under the most expert care, babies die during childbirth, as do their mothers. This happens every day. Your child’s passing had nothing to do with any sin. Knowing you, I am certain she was carried lovingly in your womb. Hearing the stories Walter Truscott came home with, you continue to love and care for her spirit even now.”

  Violet thoughthe had no tears left in her, but a few managed to escape, rolling down her cheeks. She immediately rose to her feet when there was a knock on the door. Upon hearing Gwyneth’s voice, she rushed to open it. Vi had already told Lady Aytoun that Gwyneth knew all about her past. She’d even told the countess of the friendship they had formed immediately upon their chance meeting at the ruined abbey.

  “I am so sorry to intrude on you…looking like this…but…” Gwyneth looked worriedly from the countess to Violet. She took in her friend’s tearstained face and grasped both of her hands, lowering her voice. “How are you holding up?”

  Violet nodded and squeezed Gwyneth’s hand. “Lady Aytoun knows everything. And she feels the same as you…about everything…especially about the stonemason.”

  The relief was evident in the way Gwyneth turned and smiled at their guest. She walked over and the two women shared a silent embrace.

  “Just before you walked in, Violet and I were speaking of her babe,” the countess said.

  “’Tis very upsetting where she is buried,” Gwyneth said to both of them.

  “Then we shall correct the wrong of burying that innocent soul so far away…and outside of the kirkyard cemetery.” Millicent stretched a hand toward Violet, inviting her to join them. “Whether it be in the chapel in the village, in the churchyard at St. Alban’s, or at Reverend Trimble’s church in Knebworth, we shall see that it happens. The three of us shall find a place where you feel confident that she can rest in peace.”

  Violet nodded, fighting the tears, looking at two women she loved like family—two women who’d become her champions. “This was the one dream that I hoped would come true.”

  “’Twill come true as sure as we are standing here, my friend.” Gwyneth took her hand. “We promise you that.”

  ****

  Walter was good at carrying out his responsibilities, and he loved his position. He enjoyed the people he worked with, and over the years had gained their respect. The Pennington family depended on him and trusted him. So did the crofters and the farmers who lived on and worked Baronsford’s land. He was happy with his life. This was the only place he had ever really considered home. When he gave any thought to the future, he’d always imagined himself living here happily for the rest of his life. Despite all of the advantages, though, for the first time since coming to Baronsford as a child, he was contemplating leaving it forever.

  The continuing hostility between Emma and Mrs. MacAlister, the housekeeper, was barely hidden. Even nervous little Mr. Campbell, the steward who worked like a partner with Walter, was often the target of her malevolence. Servants, cooks, gardeners, grooms, tenants—anyone who lived on the lands of Baronsford was fair game for her malice, and the pot was about to boil over.

  Her arrogant attitude had many times spilled over into acts of cruelty. Stable boys had felt the lash when her horses were not saddled quickly enough. Dressers were seen sporting bruises when a new style did not flatter her. She took advantage of people who had dedicated their entire lives to this family, people whom she had known since childhood. She had even tried, with little success, to lay the responsibility for her actions off on Lyon, hoping to turn some of them against their laird. She tried to divide and conquer, but the people of Baronsford were not about to be defeated.

  The time Emma spent at Baronsford was pure hell. It was not long before Lyon refused to be there at the same time as her. The dowager was noticeably absent after the first month of the earl’s marriage, and it was rumored that it was because of some argument they’d had. Before long, Walter was left to defend the castle and its people against the monster that Emma had become.

  As a result, there was rarely a moment when someone was not whispering some complaint in his ear. Rarely a day passed when he was not acting as a peacekeeper. Several times each month, it seemed, he found himself pleading with Emma not to discharge one person or the other.

  She claimed Truscott was the only one who understood her, but Walter was at a loss over the change in her. Strangely enough, the more she tried to control everyone around her, the more she lost control. And more and more, Emma stood alone, hated by all.

  CHAPTER 19

  “Gwyneth and I have talked, and we are determined to find out what we can about Emma’s death,” David said, looking at his brother as the earl stood by the fireplace in Baronsford’s vast library. “We are each resolved, for the sake of our own future together.”

  Lyon’s gaze fixed on the floor between them. He had been the only person accused of pushing Emma off that cliff.

  “You are happily settled now with Millicent. So if at all possible, I want you to remember that I am trying to do the same with Gwyneth. What we learn might free all of us of the past and bring our family back together.”

  “I should like nothing better,” Lyon said with a nod of his head, settling into a chair.

  “Then will you tell me about your marriage, to the day that Emma died and you were injured?”

  “So much of it you already know.”

  “Pretend that I don’t know any of it. What you say might shed new light on something that I saw differently as a younger man.”

  Lyon nodded again and paused, obviously gathering his thoughts. David took the seat across from his brother. Walter Truscott had warned him that this might be painful for Lyon, but he knew it was too late to stop.

  “Our troubles seemed to start on the very day of the wedding.” Lyon crossed his arms over his broad chest. “And for the next two years of my marriage to Emma, we fought. From the very beginning, everything about us was wrong. We were ten years apart in age, but it may as well have been a hundred. We did not understand each other. We did not seem to speak the same language. It was soon apparent that we would have no love match, but we could not seem to make it a civil union either. We could not even comprehend the other’s needs. This was no one’s fault but mine. I always thought I knew what she wanted. I had watched her grow up, following you around Baronsford, but then I believed her when she told me that she wanted only me.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Vanity leads us down a difficult road, David. She did not want me. She wanted Baronsford. And I was completely blind to it.”

  David had also been blind to the game Emma was playing. She had played to his vanity, as well. He kept the comment to himself, though.

  “I suppose I should have been able to live with this, but I couldn’t. Being the mistress of Baronsford was not enough for her, either. She wanted to rule the place, make it all her own. Her behavior to everyone became more and more deplorable. My patience grew thin, and as she became more vicious, I only became more disgusted. After one particularly nasty fight we had one day—she had taken a stick to one of the scullery maids, for God’s sake—something in her changed. I saw it happen right in front of me. I could see it in her eyes. She began to withdraw from me. She went to England immediately after that incident. In the end, we spent much of our time apart. When she was in London or Bath or Bristol, I made sure I was at Baronsford. When she came here with her friends, I tried to spend the time in Edinburgh or in the Highlands. And as great a fool as I had been, despite all of our difficulties, I was determined that this mockery of a marriage would remain as it was…so long as Emma did not disgrace us publicly.”

  Lyon turned to David, and the younger brother could see the pain in his eyes.

  “What I regret most of this cursed marriage, though, was the fact that you and Pierce started to hate me.”

  “That’s not true, Lyon. I—”
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  The earl shook his head. “We grew apart, and that was exactly what she wanted. Together, the three of us were a family, strong and able to help each other through anything. Divided…” He ran a hand restlessly through his hair. “She wanted to isolate me and control our family. You were away with your regiment and that suited her. So she went to work on Pierce—constantly complaining to him, making him believe she was being neglected and abused. Tearing the family apart was not enough, though. She began to hint at affairs. I tried not to rise like a fish to the bait. But when I tried to ignore it, she began to grow openly scornful of me, calling into question my sense of honor, even my manhood. She expected me to act. She grew so open in her affairs that I had no choice but to confront her and her lovers.”

  “I heard talk of your duels. ‘Tis a blessing you weren’t hurt then.”

  “I was a fool. I know she hoped I would be killed. Instead, even greater fools than I had to die.”

  That was when the title Lord of Scandal had been attached to Lyon’s name. Now, hearing his brother’s account of it, David doubted he would have acted any differently were he in Lyon’s situation.

  “Before she died,” the earl continued, “I should have known she was up to something.”

  “Did you believe that everyone had been invited here for our mother’s birthday?”

  He shook his head. “I had my doubts, but I let her go through with it. It had been so long since our family and friends had gathered at Baronsford.”

  “There were over two hundred guests,” David said, remembering.

  “I know now that the ruse of celebrating the dowager’s birthday was just a ploy to get us here,” Lyon said quietly. “She had an announcement that required a sympathetic audience.”

  “Do you know what her announcement was?”

  Lyon’s eyes were fierce when they turned to David. “She wanted a divorce.”

  David sat back in his chair, perplexed. He thought back on the conversation he’d had with Emma the night before. She’d complained endlessly about Lyon, seeking David’s help to act on her behalf and even speak to the earl, but she had never once hinted at wanting a divorce from Lyon.

  “The greatest scandal she could create and a public announcement of it to spread the news. Emma wanted to have everyone that she thought admired or loved her there that day.”

  “You arrived very late,” David said, recalling that he’d been waiting for the opportunity to talk to his brother that night, but never had a chance.

  “She told me her plans the morning that she went off toward the cliffs.”

  “What did you do?” David asked.

  “I told her I would not allow it, though not in so calm a fashion. I had put up with too much already. Whatever was to become of our marriage, I was not about to allow her to drag it into such a public spectacle. We argued, and she told me she would do as she wished. She was going to make the announcement, and I could live with the humiliation of it. And then she ran away.”

  “And you went after her.”

  “Not at first. I told myself this was all just another game she was playing. That she was toying with me like one of her playthings. That she would never do such a thing, for ‘twould ruin her in the fashionable watering holes she loved. And then I ran into Pierce.”

  David had visited with Pierce briefly on his first night of arrival. He’d found their middle brother tired of being caught up in Emma’s and Lyon’s marital problems. “He talked you into going after her?”

  “Not exactly. He was angry because he had seen Emma upset, running off in the direction of the cliffs. He began to lecture me once again on how I did not treat her well, and how undeserving I was of her love. He asked me how I could upset her so, considering her condition.”

  “Her condition?”

  “After telling me she wanted a divorce, Emma told Pierce that she was with child. She told him that we were going to make an announcement of it that evening.”

  David leaned forward, trying to piece together all Lyon was telling him. Bits and pieces of the conversation he’d had with Gwyneth a year ago came back to him. She had hinted at it in anger, but he had not been paying close enough attention to notice it.

  David shook his head. “Emma said nothing to me about either a divorce or a child.”

  “The child came as a shock to me when Pierce told me.”

  “What did you do?” David asked.

  “I went after Emma, but as I reached the cliff walk, I heard her scream in the distance. By the time I got to her, she was lying on the rocks at the base of the cliffs.” Lyon rubbed the back of his neck. “Bloody hell! When I started climbing down, I was not looking for answers. It did not matter if this latest revelation was another of her lies. I was not worrying whether she was with child, or even who the father of her child was, though I knew for a fact that ‘twas not mine. I remember thinking that she could not be dead.”

  David stared at his brother and felt the guilt build up inside of him. He had left Lyon. Despite all the injuries, he and Pierce had walked away from Lyon when he’d needed them most.

  “Was she really with child, or was that another of her lies?”

  Lyon appeared to notice the change in David’s tone. “I think ‘twas our mother’s doing to keep it all a secret, but the doctor who came to Baronsford afterwards had no doubt that she was carrying someone’s child.”

  Guilt washed over David, cold and merciless. How could he adequately express his sorrow for his treachery? He would try—and soon—but for now, he forced himself to focus on what he’d set his mind to accomplish.

  “Do you know who the father of her child was?”

  Lyon shrugged. “It could have been any of a dozen lovers. So many names were thrown at me. I fought so many men during that last year. Even now, I do not know which of them were truly her lovers and which ones were only used for the sake of scandal. I simply called them out like a man possessed by the devil.”

  “Lyon, do you know why she went to the cliffs that morning. I mean, why there, in all that fog and rain?”

  “I never thought about it,” Lyon admitted. He looked up abruptly. “I can tell you that I shall never believe she took her own life, that was not her way…and I do not believe she slipped, either.”

  “Nor do I.” David paused. “Did you see anyone else out there when you were going after her?”

  The earl thought about that for a moment. “No one, but there was thick fog swirling up in great banks from the river. And once I heard her scream, I only remember looking down the cliffs through the mists, for I was certain she had gone over the edge.”

  David leaned forward in his chair, his hands forming into a steeple before him. “Pierce was the one who found you. There is a possibility that he might have seen someone else on those cliffs. Has he ever mentioned anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Has he ever mentioned any of the guests who might have arrived before the others, perhaps even to help?”

  Lyon shook his head. “No, we never talked about any of it. But he and Portia should be back soon…perhaps as early as this week.”

  There was nothing more that David could ask for now. But he knew that there was a great deal more to be said. He remained on the edge of the seat.

  “There is no appropriate way for me to begin what I wish to say. Nothing I can say can excuse what I did to you a year ago in running off. If you cannot forgive me for my actions, I shall never hold that against you. But, at the same time, I shall never rest easy until I ask.” David looked into his brother’s eyes. “I want you to forgive me, Lyon. And I give you my word, I shall turn over every stone in Scotland, if I must, until I find a reasonable explanation for Emma’s death.”

  Lyon began to speak, but David held up his hand.

  “Let me finish. I am not doing this to prove to myself that you are innocent of her death; I already know the answer to that. I am doing this to shake from your name the scandal that has dogged you for too long. But most
importantly, I hope that someday you might forgive me.”

  “There is no might in this, David, and no someday, either.” Lyon pushed himself to his feet.

  David stood also and stared for a moment at the hand his brother extended toward him. He took it.

  “Welcome home, brother,” Lyon said gruffly, pulling him into a warm embrace.

  At that moment, David knew that he was truly home.

  ****

  It was mid-afternoon when Lady Cavers’s entourage of carriages and wagons and carts rolled unexpectedly into the courtyard of Greenbrae Hall. Utter chaos accompanied the arrival, which looked and sounded more like an invasion with the arriving staff battling for ascendancy over the small group of servants at the Hall. Dogs ran about barking, while drivers shouted to grooms and anyone who would listen. The noise continued to bring the remaining staff running, and the steward and housekeeper sailed about like generals, trying to align their troops for the proper greeting of the countess to the country home. Gwyneth stood at an upper floor window, horrified as Sir Allan Ardmore stepped out of the carriage just ahead of her aunt.

  Augusta and Sir Allan did not immediately make their way past the line of servants to the front door, instead watching as trunks of clothing, personal belongings, and favored furniture began to spill onto the crushed gravel. Within a minute, the courtyard had taken on the look and air of a debtor’s sale.

  Stepping back from the window, Gwyneth immediately sent a prayer of thanks heavenward that Millicent had already left for Baronsford. She had no doubt she would not be very patient with her aunt if Augusta were to show any rudeness toward her new friend, no matter how Augusta felt about Lord Aytoun and his new countess. She was not, however, quite ready to see Sir Allan, and she needed to buy herself some time.