When the Splendor Falls

by Laurie McBain

  Guy held the packet to his nose and sniffed curiously. “Matches?”

  “Matches from L. Oldham and Co.”

  “Richmond? So he was there,” Guy murmured, frowning as he held the matches to his nose again. “He smokes a good blend of tobacco. I can smell it on the paper. Never met a Virginian who didn’t. Reminds me of something, though, but I can’t quite place it,” he said, trying to remember as he fiddled with the packet.

  “He smokes a—” Leigh started to say, bending down as Guy accidentally dropped the packet, spilling several of the matches onto the bricks.

  “Leigh,” Guy said excitedly. “Isn’t it the best news we’ve had in a long time?”

  “What?”

  “About Travers Hill,” Guy said, puzzled by her reaction. “Didn’t Neil tell you? It still stands. The house is still there.”

  Leigh stood up quickly, grabbing his arm, the matches forgotten. “How do you know?”

  “Neil told me. He rode through Virginia on his way home, and he went to both Royal Bay and Travers Hill. He said the house could use a coat of paint, but there has been no further damage,” Guy told her, his voice thick with emotion. “Someday, we could probably rebuild the wing that burned, although I don’t think we’re ever going to have so many guests staying overnight at Travers Hill as we once were accustomed to putting up. Of course, I was thinking, if rebuilt, it might make a splendid servants’ wing. No more slave cabins at Travers Hill,” he said without regret. “And I don’t think I could hire anyone but myself to muck out the stables,” he joked, his voice threaded with an underlying excitement as he dreamed of regaining his sight and returning to Travers Hill. “It’ll take a lot of hard work, and we won’t have much at first, but we’ll have the land, and our house, and if we can get a few mares and one or two blooded stallions, we can start up a stud again.”

  Hearing that note of determination, and hope, Leigh suddenly began to feel a strange, uneasy sensation in the pit of her stomach. She’d never thought about the full implications of Guy regaining his sight—but now she had to accept the possibility of what would happen if he did. Guy would never stay at Royal Rivers. He would return home to Virginia. He would never abandon Travers Hill, his birthplace, his heritage. He would never give up.

  Leigh was momentarily relieved that Guy couldn’t see her expression, because she wasn’t proud of the brief flash of fear that had shown when she thought of him leaving her behind at Royal Rivers. When he’d spoken of returning to Travers Hill, a part of her had wanted to return with him. And to further her unease, she wondered what Neil would say if she proposed such an idea to him. Would he want her to stay? Or would he, now that they might be able to resume their lives at Travers Hill, feel his promise to Adam had been fulfilled? Would he allow her to take Lucinda and return to Virginia?

  Leigh pressed her slender fingertips to her temple, easing the pain of such a thought.

  “I thought Neil would have told you last night.”

  “He was very tired. He fell asleep almost as soon as he’d eaten.”

  “This morning?” he questioned gently.

  “I’m afraid I was still asleep when he left,” Leigh explained, trying to smile. “I’m going to walk out to the corrals,” she said hurriedly, before he could question her further. “I’ve a couple of apples for Damascena and Capitaine. Would you like to come with me?” she asked, not wishing to think further about what the future might hold for all of them.

  “Thanks, Leigh, but Althea has another student in her class today,” he said, bowing slightly. “I was supposed to meet her here, although I may lose my courage. I have the feeling I’m going to be placed in the corner to serve as a reminder to her pupils of what can happen to those who don’t learn their sums.”

  “There you are,” Althea greeted them as she walked quickly to where they stood, her arms full of lesson books. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I had to leave Noelle and Steward with the Misses Clarice and Simone. And I heard that,” she added, laughing.

  “Me and my big mouth. I suppose I’ve put ideas into your head,” Guy said in resignation.

  “If you will recall, talking too much was exactly why you so often found yourself perched on a high stool in the corner,” Althea reminded him. “Dunce cap and all.”

  “Yes, I took a degree in duncery,” Guy joked.

  “Oh, Leigh, isn’t it wonderful about Travers Hill. Neil did tell you?” Althea asked, a look of expectation in her eyes.

  “Yes, I know,” Leigh answered. “It is wonderful news.”

  Guy tipped his head slightly, as if listening to voices. “Is that Lys Helene’s voice I hear?” he asked.

  “Yes, she and Stephen are in the garden.”

  “I want to speak with her, so if you ladies are going to talk for a moment, I’ll wait for you in the courtyard, Althea,” he said, starting to turn away.

  “Let me help you, Guy,” Leigh offered, holding out her hand.

  “No, I can find my way, thank you,” he said, and if he saw the hazy movement of her hand, he ignored it this time.

  Leigh dropped her hand, watching as he carefully made his way along the corridor, then through the opened doors to the courtyard. Leigh saw him shield his eye, as if the bright light bothered him. He stumbled slightly on one of the uneven bricks, then bumped his shin on the edge of a stone bench, his muttered imprecation hastily muffled as he heard approaching footsteps.

  This time, Lys Helene did come to his assistance, her hand taking his arm firmly as she guided him the rest of the way, and Leigh saw the flash of naked longing revealed in Lys Helene’s eyes when she stared up into Guy’s face, but just as quickly the expression of loving tenderness was gone and she had released his arm to kneel back down by her cuttings, her back turned stiffly to Guy.

  “I’m so relieved Guy finally met someone like Lys Helene. She is perfect for him. He would never have been happy with Sarette Canby. I have watched the love blossoming between them, just like one of Lys Helene’s flowers. Mama would have loved her and been so pleased to welcome her into the family. I hope Guy won’t wait too much longer to ask her to marry him,” Althea said, watching with an almost motherly look as Guy hovered just behind Lys Helene, trying to get her attention and nearly tumbling over her shoulder in his impatience. “Guy has changed so from the man he once was. I believe the old Guy would have deserved someone like Sarette—well, perhaps not. I’ve never seen him so thoughtful, and gentle, especially when with Lys Helene. At one time, I don’t believe he would have appreciated her, or truly seen her beauty, for her coloring is uncommon, and Mama would have despaired of all of those freckles. But I think it adds to her charm. They will be so happy together.”

  But Leigh wasn’t as certain. Guy could also be very stubborn with pride, and if she was right and Lys Helene had overheard their conversation the day before, she might never forgive Guy for his scathing words, little realizing they had been feelings of frustration aimed at himself rather than her.

  “I always hoped Travers Hill would somehow manage to survive. After what happened to Royal Bay, I didn’t see how it could, with Richmond burned to ashes and the Shenandoah despoiled by that horrible little Yankee general. They say he was at Chickamauga, when Nathan was there, and he was the cause of Jeb Stuart’s death at Yellow Tavern. And there sat Travers Hill, right in his path,” Althea said, shaking her neat head in wonderment, a faraway look in her eyes. Then she closed them for a moment, as if banishing that vision from her mind.

  Opening her eyes, there was a sparkle in the brown depths even if the words that followed sounded hesitant, as if she were still uncertain. “Guy and I were talking about Travers Hill, and the possibility of living there again. It is our home, Leigh, and we have a right to dream,” Althea reminded her, her tone almost defiant. She could see Leigh’s expression and anticipated the words of argument she was about to utter. “Of course, with Guy, that is all it is, a dream. But for me it is much more. I have a family to provide for. And now that I am we
ll, I know I can do it. I didn’t completely waste my years at finishing school. I am capable of many things, I’ve recently discovered, and I do know how to run a home. Mama taught us that much. I haven’t made up my mind yet, but I’ve been thinking that if I returned to Virginia, I could either live at Travers Hill, or, perhaps even more practical, live in Charlottesville, where I could teach school, or…if there was no position available, I thought I could become a seamstress. I am a very accomplished needlewoman,” Althea said, but not boastfully. “I will be able to support my family. Oh, Leigh don’t look like that,” Althea said, touching her younger sister on the cheek in a gesture of loving affection. “You never have been able to hide your feelings. And you are absolutely horrified, I can see it in your eyes. Whatever would Mama think? Things have changed, my dear.”

  “I know things have changed. They will never be the same again, but it isn’t necessary for you to have to change too, Althea. It isn’t necessary,” Leigh spoke huskily, staring down at the sketch she still held in her hands. “You have a home here. Lucinda and I are here. You can’t leave.”

  “Oh, Leigh, you know I love you, but my home is in Virginia, and it always will be,” Althea told her, a note of steel in her voice that Leigh had never heard before, and she glanced up almost in desperation as she saw Althea slipping away from her. “You have done so much for us. For me and my children. Without you, without your unselfish strength, which you shared with all of us, I would not have lived to see the end of this war.

  “I have the strength now to survive, and I want to raise my children in Virginia. I intend to raise them the way their father would have, had he lived,” Althea said, finally speaking aloud the words that had been so heavy in her heart for so long. “We may no longer be wealthy, and I may not be able to give them the life they would have had before the war, but they will have a sense of honor and dignity, and what they achieve in life will be because they worked hard for it. That will be the heritage they will leave to their children one day. Nathan would have wished us to stay in Virginia. So would Mama and Papa. I would feel closer to all of them if I were back there. I know we are welcomed here, and I have never known such kindness. Living here, I have been able to recover my health, and my courage. I can now face a life without Nathan. It is something I have come to accept, as Guy has his blindness, and if I’m to make that new life, I must have a home of my own again. Can you understand that, Leigh?” she asked, searching Leigh’s face. “And you have to accept something too, Leigh. You now have a home here. And you have a husband, never forget that. You must try to make something of this marriage of yours,” she said. “You have a responsibility to Lucinda, to the memories of Blythe and Adam. They both trusted you. Blythe loved you so deeply, and I know she would have approved of what Adam did.

  “But my memories are in Virginia, Leigh. And what of all of our family possessions, and those from Royal Bay? The family heirlooms buried in that cave cannot be forgotten. Adam told us where they were hidden. We can’t leave our family’s pride hidden away in the dark. Guy wants to return to Virginia too, but we know that would be impossible, at least right now. But once I am settled in Charlottesville, and I am able to make life comfortable for him, then he would be welcome to come and live with Noelle, Steward, and me. Of course, it will be difficult, and we won’t have much, but we will be together in our own home. By then, however, he and Lys Helene may have married and decided to stay here with her family. I do not know that he would have any other choice. He has no way to support her,” she said, forcing herself to be realistic.

  Leigh nodded, unable to speak, because she knew more than Althea how close Guy was to regaining his sight, and then, with or without Lys Helene, he would return to Virginia, to Travers Hill, and he and Althea, working together, would have a much better chance of beginning again—and succeeding in making a new life for themselves.

  “We will talk more of this, Leigh. We have to. I want to consult with Neil about what I should expect to find when I return to Virginia,” she said, sounding worried for an instant, but she’d already made up her mind and Leigh knew nothing she could say now would change it. “And I should speak with Nathaniel, because, although Steward is now heir to Royal Bay, Nathaniel was born there, and I would like to offer him the chance to claim any cherished possessions he might remember from childhood.”

  “And what of Julia?” Leigh asked, speaking her childhood friend’s name for the first time in over a year.

  Althea’s face hardened. “She forfeited that right. I never told you, because it was far too humiliating, but I wrote to Julia. I knew where Julia was staying in Paris, Aunt Maribel Lu and Uncle Jay saw her there, although Aunt Maribel Lu would not speak with her. When I was desperate in Richmond, I wrote asking for help. Aunt Maribel Lu had written that Julia had been dressed in the height of fashion, draped in jewels, had a house and carriage of her own, and could be seen dining in the most elegant and expensive restaurants. I thought she might be able to send us money, or perhaps even a box of essentials, still easily bought in Paris. She wrote that she was preparing for a trip to Venice and did not have much time, and she was rather short of cash, having spent her allowance on clothes. But she did send us a box of chocolates, her favorites, she said.”

  “So very generous of her,” Althea said, her voice quivering with the same repressed fury she had felt at the time.

  “I never knew,” Leigh said, unable to believe her friend could have been so selfish and uncaring, but as she thought back over the years, she knew that she’d always tried to excuse Julia’s actions, to find a generosity of spirit where there had been none.

  “Well, I must go now,” Althea said, her silken skirts rustling as she took a step, then stopped. “Oh, and Leigh, I think you know that both Guy and I feel that anything you might wish to keep from Travers Hill is yours,” Althea added, the scent of violets lingering long after Althea had crossed the courtyard to stand in conversation for a moment with Lys Helene.

  Leigh watched them, feeling a strange sadness as Althea took Guy’s arm and they walked away. Turning in the opposite direction, Leigh made her way to the study. Entering the quiet room, she walked to Nathaniel Braedon’s desk and placed the matches in the center of the blotter. Taking a piece of paper, she took the pen from the inkwell and wrote a note of explanation, placing the paper beneath the packet. She had walked halfway back across the room before she glanced at the portrait of Neil’s mother and sister.

  As if compelled, Leigh unrolled the sketch and met the Comanche’s blue-eyed stare, remembering again the terror she’d felt when they’d met face-to-face, and yet…

  “So beautiful,” Leigh murmured, glancing between the three faces.

  “Yes, she was.” Nathaniel Braedon’s voice sounded so close behind her that Leigh drew in her breath in surprise, and guilt, almost choking on it as she spun around to find him standing just within the door.

  “I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said, watching her intently.

  “Forgive me for intruding, but I left a packet of matches on your desk. That drifter, Michael Sebastian, dropped them when I was showing him where the north pasture was,” Leigh explained, her hands fumbling as she tried to roll back up the piece of vellum. “I assume he found you?”

  “Yes. I’ve hired him, so he’ll have plenty of time to collect them,” Nathaniel said as he came to stand beside her in front of the portrait.

  “I was just admiring the portrait of your first wife and your daughter,” Leigh said uncomfortably. “She was very beautiful. Fionnuala was her name, wasn’t it? I have seldom seen such brilliant blue eyes,” Leigh commented, glancing down instinctively at the rolled-up drawing in her hands.

  “They were remarkable. Once you have seen eyes like hers you never forget them,” he said, his gaze never leaving the two faces. “Fionnuala Elissa Darcy was her name when I first met her…a lifetime ago.”

  “It’s a lovely name. And your daughter’s name was Shannon?”

  “S
hannon Malveen. She was her mother’s daughter. Even in that picture, when she was just four years old, she was exquisite.”

  “Fionnuala died in childbirth?” Leigh heard herself asking, then wished she hadn’t when she saw the bleak look that entered Nathaniel’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry, I should not have asked,” she apologized quickly.

  But Nathaniel hadn’t seemed to have heard as he continued to stare at the portrait of his beloved wife and child. “Died?” he asked, surprising her by the harshness of his voice. “She should never have died. She would be alive today, except for—” He broke off his words, as if he could not speak them. Then he said coldly, “I curse the day she told me she was carrying my son.”

  Leigh stared at him in shocked silence, the drawing dropping from her hand.

  “Any time a woman dies in childbirth it is a tragedy, especially if the child she carried was stillborn, but you have a living part of her with you,” Leigh said, thinking more of Lucinda than Neil in that moment. “You still have Neil, your son. And now he has returned safely from the war. You should be thankful, grateful that he is alive. That some part of Fionnuala still lives in him.”

  “Neil.” He said the name almost as if cursing beneath his breath. “Neil always comes back. He always manages to survive. I knew he’d come back when Justin wouldn’t. There is nothing to be thankful for. Neil is destined to survive.”

  Leigh felt as if she’d been slapped. She took a steadying breath, feeling a sudden, intense loyalty to Neil. “I never quite realized—or perhaps I refused to believe—how much you hated him. I think you must be the most hateful person I’ve ever met that you would not rejoice having your son return home to you, especially after losing Justin,” Leigh said, two spots of angry color burning in her cheeks. “When I think of the loved ones I’ll never see again, and here you stand sorry that your son lives, I-I could just…just—” she began, but Leigh couldn’t find strong enough words to express her feelings and turned away, but his hand shot out, grasping hold of her arm and holding her in front of the portrait.