He murmured in response, but she could not make out the words.
At half past one, Abbie heard commotion below stairs. Oliver, Julian, and Riordan strode into the room and stood at the foot of Garrett’s massive bed.
“How is he?” Oliver asked worriedly.
“Calmer than earlier. Dr. Faraday predicts the crisis will come within hours. He believes the fever will break.”
“Thank God,” Julian murmured.
“What happened? Were you able to locate this man of Sutherhorne’s?” Abbie asked. “Where is Jonas?”
Riordan frowned. “We escorted Jonas home before returning here. Locate Sutherhorne’s man? Not exactly. We started at the inn in Sevenoaks, then branched out to the guest houses. Once completed, we expanded our search to surrounding towns and villages. Only one place acknowledged the possibility of a man of Delaney’s description. He may have stayed there last week, for two nights. Of course, he did not use the name of Delaney. This is hardly solid proof.”
“We can only surmise the marquess did not stay overnight. He is not easy to miss, with his fancy carriage and entourage. A carriage traveling at a swift clip could make London from here in an hour and thirty minutes. Even less.” Julian crossed his arms. “We assume that is how he and his man communicated.”
“What’s the next step?” Abbie could plainly observe the frustrated expressions on the Wollstonecraft men’s faces.
“Confronting the marquess will get us nowhere. I have a better solution: We appeal to Prince Albert directly. While prosecution remains unlikely, we may be able to persuade his Royal Highness to agree to banishment. A forfeiture of money and properties not entailed along with a guarantee that if he leaves Great Britain, and never returns, his oldest son will inherit the title. It has been done before with peers who think themselves above the law.”
“But we need solid evidence,” Julian said.
“You have it. Me.” They all looked in the direction of the doorway where Sabrina stood, wearing her silk wrapper, her golden hair in a braid lying across her shoulder.
Riordan’s look softened, the love clearly showing through, and it made Abbie’s heart ache. “My darling, we agreed.”
“This situation has moved far beyond any potential stress or embarrassment. We can no longer sweep it under the carpet. We are speaking of attempted murder.” Sabrina moved to Riordan’s side. “I’m not sure that the prince will allow me an audience, but I will tell everything, either in person or in a written account. How my father colluded with Sutherhorne to kidnap and sell me—more than once. If I remember the accounts in the papers, the prince is a tireless anti-slavery advocate. This will anger him, I am sure. For isn’t what they tried to do a form of slavery?”
Oliver nodded. “You are correct, Sabrina. It will anger him. Counter it with this attempt on Garrett’s life, and we could find success. Do you think your father would agree to a written affidavit stating Sutherhorne’s part in your kidnapping?”
Sabrina snorted. “Only if it will benefit him. I know my wretched father well. He will no doubt ask for you to clear his debt and his name, ensure there will be no repercussions from his statement.”
“Perhaps we will be able to come to a sort of pact. It will bear thinking about. Are you sure you wish to do this, Sabrina?”
Riordan’s wife nodded, a determined look on her face. “In hindsight, we should have gone to the prince as soon as it happened. I appreciate you all trying to protect me, but it’s well past time I stood up to these evil men, and truly place this all behind me. I have a future. And well…” Her hand trailed across her stomach. “Forgive me, Riordan, for making this announcement public, but I believe I am expecting.”
Riordan cupped her cheeks, his eyes glistening. “My dearest love.” He kissed her deeply, oblivious to anyone else in the room.
Abbie was not used to such a public display, and she blushed in response. Though why was a puzzle, considering her wild relationship with Garrett. Expecting? Hadn’t they been married only last month? Oh. Right. The marriage started out as a convenient arrangement earlier in the autumn. Obviously, it had moved beyond such before their winter wedding here at the hall. When Riordan broke the kiss, the men closed ranks, congratulating them.
“I am not completely sure,” Sabrina demurred. “I should consult with Dr. Faraday in the morning.”
“Then we shall wake him this minute,” Riordan cried happily.
Before, they had spoken in hushed tones, but with this happy announcement, the voices had grown louder, which caused Garrett to stir. Regardless, Abbie rushed to Sabrina, pulling her into a warm embrace. “I am very happy for you.”
“Thank you, Abbie. And Riordan, allow the poor man to sleep. The doctor and your uncle.”
Everyone laughed.
“No!” Garrett cried out.
The laughter ceased and all eyes turned to him. He was struggling to sit upright, but could not accomplish it. Abbie rushed to his side, but he thrust her away, still surprisingly strong considering his weakened and feverish condition. She almost lost her balance and fell to the floor. His eyes were glassy, his look wild. “Get away from me, far away. I don’t want you near me, not ever again. I want you out of my life,” Garrett snarled, his voice full of venom. “The curse. It exists. It is real and will consume us all. I want you gone!”
Abbie’s blood ran cold. He still believed in it. All his talk about putting the miserable curse behind him had been wishful thinking. Call it what it truly was: lies. This hurt as much as it had fourteen years past. Perhaps more. She had placed her faith, hope, and worst of all, her heart in his hands, and he ruined it. Again. Abbie turned and left. Once in the hall, she broke into a run until she reached her room.
She was about to close the door, but Julian stopped her. “Abbie, don’t listen to him. He is still in a fevered state. He’s out of his head and doesn’t know what he is saying.”
Stepping away from the door, she clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking. “People often speak truth in fevered states. How they truly feel deep down.” Should she be discussing this with Garrett’s brother? Abbie buried her face in her hands. “This will never work, Julian. Your brother is stubborn and will never embrace love and life fully. He is damaged inside, and my love cannot fix him.”
Julian clasped her arms. “It is difficult to completely erase years of belief in a few short weeks. Yes, he’s damaged inside. We all are, in various ways. We’ve been touched by tragedy on many levels. It has affected Garrett more than any of us realized.”
Abbie frowned, but met his earnest and sympathetic gaze. “I understand, believe me, I do. He told me of his childhood losses and how he’d been affected by them. But most people put tragedy behind them and move forward with living. I mourned my husband, I still do, but I am ready and willing to take another chance at life. Can you say the same? Will you acknowledge your feelings for Alberta? Or will you stay cloistered away in this hall with the rest of the men?”
Julian’s arms dropped to his sides, his expression grew chilly. She may have gone too far. “My feelings for Alberta are not your affair.”
She glared at him. “Then my feelings for Garrett are none of yours.”
They stared at each other as if they were adversaries on a battlefield. Who would yield first?
“Touché. Well struck,” Julian said as a brief smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. “I shouldn’t interfere, but I ask you to please stay and fight for Garrett. I know that I’m asking you to sacrifice much here.”
Abbie exhaled. “That is one of the reasons I came here, to fight for our love. To see if it still existed. It does, but I’m weary from the constant conflict, Julian. He hurt me, wounded me deeply all those years ago. I refuse to even give him the chance to wreak more damage. We are leaving.”
Julian’s eyebrow arched. “Abbie…”
�
�We were going to depart this week at any rate. Garrett is fully aware of our plans, and I aim to stick to them. When the fever breaks, we will return to Standon. Though I must hire a carriage…”
“If you insist on leaving, allow me to make the arrangements. Garrett will never forgive me if I do not see to yours and Megan’s safety. Use one of our coaches, and I’ll send along Samuel, one of our grooms, to act as protector. He’s an ex-soldier and a formidable presence. You have a spare room at your residence?”
Abbie nodded.
“Excellent. He will stay with you until this situation is resolved. We’re not sure what Sutherhorne is up to, so we cannot take the chance that he will seek you out to exact revenge on Garrett. There’s no doubt why he or his man fired in your direction.” Julian exhaled. “We can better protect you if you stay here, but I understand why you feel compelled to leave. Garrett is not perfect. None of the Wollstonecraft men are.”
“I love him for that very reason. And he loves me despite my flaws.” Abbie paused. “I will see Garrett before I depart. I promise. I will tell him everything I’ve told you, and more besides. He will have to make a choice. It’s a life with our daughter—or the curse. I will not accept any middle ground.” She gave Julian a warm smile. “Thank you for listening. I did not mean to pull any of you into this situation.”
Julian took her hand and kissed it. “You are family. The Wollstonecrafts look out for one another. Support each other. We may not give our hearts easily, but when we do, we love fiercely. Remember that.”
A lump of emotion wedged in her throat. If she replied, she would burst into noisy sobs. Abbie nodded instead. Julian departed, closing the door softly behind him. Bringing her hand to her heart, it formed a fist. Her heart ached. Had Garrett broken it once again? Perhaps not, but there was a fissure. In the final analysis, if he ultimately chose the curse over her, she knew that the break would be permanent.
* * * *
Garrett emerged from his fevered ice fog. It took several minutes for his vision to focus, and he had hoped it would be filled with images of Abbie. The few times he had drifted in and out of this delirious haze, Abbie had been next to him, speaking in hushed, comforting tones and wiping his brow. Where was she?
He glanced about the room. It was dim except for the gas light hissing overhead. With the curtains closed, he couldn’t tell if it were morning or night. His father, brother, and nephew stood at the foot of the bed. Next to them was a stranger whom he’d remembered from his dreams.
“Welcome back, Garrett,” the stranger said. “I am Dr. Bastian Faraday. You were shot in the shoulder and sustained damage to your subclavian artery. Dr. Phillips and I repaired it. Then you developed a fever. It has been five days since the incident.”
Well, that brought him up-to-date. “Thank…you.” His father had spoken highly of the young doctor in the past. He met his father’s relieved gaze. “Where…Abbie?”
His father’s relieved gaze turned to one of sadness, and trepidation rolled through Garrett. “I will fetch her directly. First, allow me to give you a brief summary of what has happened.” His father gave a stunning narrative, one Garrett struggled to keep up with. The consequence was that there was proof that Sutherhorne was behind the shooting. The despicable wretch. His father stated that they had a plan, but the details would wait until tomorrow.
Riordan patted Garrett’s leg. “Rest, Uncle. We’ll talk later.”
Riordan, Dr. Faraday, and his father departed. Julian stepped closer. “Listen to what Abbie has to say. Open your heart, Brother. This may be your last chance at happiness.”
What in hell did that mean? Damn it, he couldn’t get his throat to work to ask. The words Julian spoke were somber in tone. Garrett’s apprehension only increased when his father opened the door and Abbie walked through. The look on her face was determined, but guarded.
“I will leave you both,” his father stated, closing the door with a soft snick as he and Julian departed.
Abbie stood beside his bed, her hands clasped in front of her. The fact that she did not touch him filled him with dread. What was going on? Something must have happened, but what? He gazed at her questioningly, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
“I’m glad the fever broke. During the worst of it, you said: ‘Get away from me, far away. I don’t want you near me, not ever again. The curse exists and will consume us all. I want you gone!’ Do you remember saying it?” Her voice was tight, the tone showing annoyance.
Damn it all to hell. He struggled to recall. It had been a dream, hadn’t it? He shook his head.
Abbie frowned. “I cannot put myself through this again. I thought that in coming here I had placed most of the past behind me, but it seems I have not.” A gasping sob left her throat. “I am torn. Completely miserable. You are the only man I have ever loved, and also the only one to break my heart.”
He tried to sit up, to open his mouth and vehemently deny everything, but all that came out was a dry croak.
“Allow me to finish. Megan and I are leaving later today. It was the original plan, and I will follow through on it. Under the circumstances, I believe it wise. Julian is making the arrangements. Samuel Jenkins will be accompanying us and staying with us in Standon until this situation with Sutherhorne is resolved. Recover, and think about what you want. For a choice is before you: me or the curse.” Abbie dashed away a lone tear. “I have done all I can with regards to this relationship. Years past, you hurled cruel words at me to hasten my departure, all because of this curse. It has happened again. If you decide the curse is more important than our love, then I never want to see you again.”
The declaration sliced him. He was stunned. Even if he could get his throat to work, he could not have found the words. He closed his eyes. The words she’d spoken on one of the nights she’d come to his room played in his mind: Not if you insist on placing the curse between us as a shield. If you cannot commit to me or love me with your entire heart and soul, then I do not want you at all. I won’t settle for any less. Elwyn taught me that much.
Both of them were vulnerable; this alliance had always stood on shaky ground. His blasted demon—the curse—reared its ugly head when he was most susceptible and Abbie had witnessed it.
“I will never deny you your daughter,” Abbie continued, her voice quaking with emotion. “If she wishes, she may visit you during the summers, as you did with your grandparents in Scotland.” She stepped closer and laid her hand on top of his. “Believe me when I say that I, too, need time to think. For I have not put the past behind me. That is clear to me now. And the fact that I do not fully trust you scares me witless.”
Garrett moved to place his hand on top of hers but she pulled it away, causing his heart to squeeze with sorrow. “Abbie. Don’t…leave me,” he croaked, his throat raw and scratchy.
She closed her eyes, and a couple of tears escaped from under her lids. “Goodbye, Garrett. Get well.” She turned and scurried from the room.
He lay dumbfounded, staring at the ceiling. Devastated. Alone. Her words reverberated in his heart and soul. Despite his desolation, a ray of hope emerged. Abbie had said: “You should do what you should have done years ago, but only if you can let the past go and reject the curse wholeheartedly.” Those words were as clear as glass, for she referred to what she had said one of the nights she’d visited his room: You didn’t love me enough to ride in and claim me. I cursed you, for how could you do such a thing to us? Deliver such a mortal blow to our love?
He would recover. And come to terms with this damned curse. He would have to declare his love and commitment to Abbie, swear he’d placed the curse behind him. It would right the wrong of years past, and also prove that he truly wanted a fresh start. Tears ran in steady rivulets from the corner of his eyes, dampening the pillow.
Or life would not be worth living.
Chapter 19
“Megan, please stop
fussing. Gather your belongings. We will return to Alberta’s and pack the remainder of our personal effects. Julian has assured me the carriage will be ready to depart later this afternoon.” Julian had also related they would be making an overnight stop halfway through the journey, all arrangements made by the family. She could hardly refuse.
Megan glowered; her lips formed a pout. She would be next to impossible on the trip to Standon. “I do not understand, why the haste? There is something you are not telling me,” Megan demanded.
Abbie closed her eyes, striving to hold her temper. “Sit, Megan. Truly, my relationship with Garrett is private, but I’ll relate some of what has transpired. There is this curse—”
Megan sat on the edge of the bed. “Curse?”
“It is said that every man born through this particular bloodline of Wollstonecrafts suffers tragedies. Women in the family, either born or wedded into it, do not live long, no matter how many times the man remarried. You are aware that your grandfather lost three wives and a daughter. Your uncle lost his wife. This all happened when Garrett was a small boy. It had an impact on him.” Abbie’s brows furrowed in annoyance. “This curse has hovered over us like a dark, thunderous cloud from the moment Garrett and I met.”
Megan’s lips parted in shock. “Truly? A curse? He believes it? Do you?”
“Me? Of course not, but I cannot dismiss the impact it’s had. All the men believe in it, to a certain extent. Garrett more than any of them. He vowed never to love or marry.”
Understanding dawned on Megan’s face. “Ah. The cause of the hurtful words he spoke of when we were out riding.”
“Yes. Despite his recent oath to put the curse behind him, he hasn’t. At least, not fully. This shooting…”
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