“Stop, or I swear, I shall shoot you!” he crowed, his voice full of venom.
Thomas stood very still. “Do not be a fool, man. No good will come of this!” As he spoke, he took another step towards him.
“Do not move one inch!” Garth commanded as he waved his weapon. “You have no idea what I am capable of!”
“There is no need for this Garth; let us talk this through like gentlemen.”
“Gentlemen?” he laughed. “What have we got to say to each other that could possibly be discussed in a manner two gentlemen would?”
“I am sure that we could come to some agreement,” Thomas said, trying to convince him.
“You have no idea. Do you think that there is anything that we could agree on that would put right all that has passed before?”
“There must be something?”
It was then that Thomas took a stray glance at the body in the water. It was still slightly on the bank, but the large ripples that Garth had caused upon leaving the water were dragging it from its place of rest and into its depths.
Garth followed his gaze.
“Ah, it is such a waste that something so beautiful had to die, isn’t it?” he said wishfully.
Thomas looked from Garth then back to the body, suddenly feeling very sick.
“M?” he shouted, “Is that M?”
“It is such a shame, Mr Bradley, that you had to find out this way. You should have married Miss Cartland, and then you would have been spared all this. You see, I had it all planned out to perfection. As I saw it, Maria’s death—and might I add, yours, which I will see to shortly—would have looked as if two lovers, who could not bear to be parted, decided to take their own lives through sorrow.” Again, the sound of his high-pitched laughter filled the air.
“Why you…” Thomas made to move, but the gun was forced into his face. “Why Garth, why?”
“You still do not understand, do you, Mr Bradley? I have lost everything. EVERYTHING! You ruined me, both of you. She could have been mine—but oh no, it was only you she would have.”
Thomas cast another nervous look at her body.
“Please Garth, do not do this!” he pleaded urgently, “Do not let her drown; she is the innocent one in all of this. Please, I beg you, let me save her!”
Garth’s hand shook, “You do not understand, Mr Bradley,” he repeated. “I am ruined; I shall never be able to face society again. She should have had me when I offered, but no, she chose to whore herself to you. You should have married Miss Cartland and then I would have been a rich man. But now…” His voice had suddenly grown quiet, “how shall I bear this disgrace?”
“Please, I beg you, do not let her drown!” Tom cried out.
Garth lashed out with the pistol and struck Tom, who fell backwards onto the grass, blood oozing from the gash that marked the side of his forehead.
“You don’t understand, Mr Bradley. I am disgraced!” The pistol shook in his hand as he spoke.
“Please Mr Lewis!” Tom begged as he tried to get up.
“NO!” Garth shouted as he pulled the trigger back. “It has to end now!”
“Please,” Thomas’ voice shook. “There has to be some way; it cannot end this way!”
“What do you know, Mr High and Mighty Lord of Nedgely? You shall never want for anything! I shall carry this disgrace for the rest of my days, never to be called by my proper name again. So, now that I am ruined, I will take those who are responsible with me. Mr Bradley, it has to end now!” He raised his pistol.
Inch by inch, Maria eased her body up the bank, her progress hindered as her hands slipped in the mud. She could here Tom’s raised voice, his anger evident, as he argued with Mr Lewis. With determination, she hauled herself up the last bit, her body protesting violently, for the pain in her abdomen was crippling. Finally out of water, she lay flat on the bank and took deep breaths, desperate to overcome the woozy sensation. When she eventually managed to block out the pain a little, she lifted her head and froze at the sight before her. Mr Lewis held a pistol at Tom’s head. It couldn’t be real; it had to be another of her dreams! It was not possible that she was really here, soaked to the skin and covered in mud. Finally, as reality sunk in, she knew it to be true. Today would be the day that they both died, not in a way she remembered, for things had changed somehow.
She had to do something and quickly or she was about to watch her love be murdered before her very eyes. She could not lay here and see this happen; she had to save him. Without giving much thought to the consequences, she rose to her unsteady feet and launched herself at Mr Lewis. He staggered sideways at the impact, swinging round and catching her across the face with the butt of his weapon. Maria fell to her knees, as Garth grabbed a fistful of her hair forcing her head up.
“You see, Mr Bradley,” he hissed, “There are some things in life that cannot be changed.”
Maria, on the contrary, couldn’t believe how quickly things could change—one minute she was to watch Tom die, the next it would be he who saw her fall. Her hair was pulled so tightly that she feared that it would be pulled out by the roots. Tears stung her eyes. Toms face was a picture of agony and she couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing that she was the cause of his suffering.
“So Mr Bradley, you will now watch all your dreams die, just as I have had to watch everything that I have worked towards dissolve before my very eyes. Miss Cartland is to marry Albert, you and the lovely Miss Austin here will get to meet your maker sooner than anticipated; and I…”
“Let her go, this fight is between you and me.”
Garth wrapped his hand tighter in her hair and she cried out at the pain, “I think not.”
Thomas rose to his feet, desperation evident in his eyes. Maria saw him edge forward, “No Tom, let it be,” she pleaded, “I am not afraid to die.”
Thomas froze in spot, for he could not believe that M would give up her life to save him. He needed to think of something, anything, that would end this once and for all. He looked at the pistol placed against Maria’s temple, and his face broke out in that all familiar crooked smile.
Maria was fully aware of that look and she instantly knew that he was about to do something that would probably get them both killed. So much for her self-sacrifice! She could not save him.
“No Tom,” her voice was hushed.
Thomas didn’t falter, as his eyes focused on her face, “You seem to have forgotten, Garth, that you have only one bullet,” he said quietly—too quietly, Maria thought. “You will not have time to reload after you have used it, for I swear to you now that I will kill you with my bear hands as soon as you pull that trigger.”
For a moment, Garth seemed to hesitate, but then regained his composure and hauled Maria to her feet. When he spoke, there was venom in his voice, “Then, Mr Bradley I shall have to shoot you first and then finish the job I started before your arrival.” With that, he struck Maria across the side of the head. She stumbled backwards, landing in the pool.
“NO!” Thomas shouted as he lunged at Garth’s legs, bringing him down to the ground. As they rolled, the pistol went off. Tom squeezed his eyes shut as the smell of gunpowder stung his nose. He waited for the pain to pierce his body, but felt none. He opened his eyes slowly to find that Garth was lying motionless beneath him; and, as he eased himself away, he saw the gunshot wound in his chest. His body now lay lifeless upon the bloody wet soil. He heard the sound of Cleara’s hooves on the damp ground and saw that she had taken flight, leaving a trail of spraying mud behind her.
It took him a moment to regain his thoughts and, rising quickly, he splashed into the pool in search of Maria.
“M?” he cried out in panic.
He saw her pale face just below the surface; he reached out and dragged her limp form from her watery grave.
“Breathe, M… Oh God, please breathe!” Tears soiled his cheeks as he pushed against her chest to force the water out of her lungs. “Please, M… BREATHE!” He screamed at her.
There was no response and he tried again. Panic threatened to overwhelm him, but he knew that he had to continue. Still, she lay motionless on the ground. He clutched her lifeless form against his chest, crushing her in his arms as he rocked back and forth. His cries filled the air, as he knew that she had to be dead.
“Oh God, M, do not leave me! How can I survive this life without you? NO! PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE ME!” His cries echoed across the still waters of the Crystal Pool.
She was floating; she felt no pain and it was like heaven. The distorted light shone on her face. She felt a force, so strong, that it almost crushed her, but then a sound of her name calling out to her from distance penetrated her thoughts. The bile burnt, rising, until… Suddenly, the water spilled from her body and the air rushed in its place, bringing her soaked lungs to life. She coughed the burning taste from her throat.
“M?” Tom’s voice was tormented.
She slowly opened her heavy eyes and tried to look into his sad face. Everything was hazy as the rain ran rivets down her face and she could not focus.
“Oh M, I thought that I had lost you!” Tom exclaimed, hardly daring to believe that she was alive. He’d been sure that the angels must have taken her and he clung to her as if he would never let her go.
He needed to get her home. He lifted her in his arms and started to walk, but her wet skirts hung loosely about his legs, hindering his steps, as he crossed through the long grass towards Whitmore Manor. She was a dead weight and the throb in his head made him dizzy. He fell to his knees in exhaustion. He saw the small stone wall where the garden joined the field. He looked down at her pale face, noticing the hint of a bruise forming on the fragile skin of her cheek and the blood oozing from the cut across her brow.
“Oh God, M,” he whispered as he lowered his cheek to hers. Tears stung his eyes; his body was like lead, but he knew he had to get her back. She needed a doctor’s help—without it… His sob caught in his throat, as he forced himself not to think of the worst. Mustering every ounce of his strength, he hooked his arms under her bottom and back, lifting her once again.
The blood seeped though her water-soaked clothes, covering his own—was it his blood or hers? He could not be sure. What had Garth Lewis done to her? He staggered towards the large glass-panelled doors, every muscle in his body screaming out in pain, as he carried her limp form. Still, he knew that he had to continue dragging his legs, urging them to move. He gripped on to her.
Noticing them approaching the house, everyone in the house started to scream. Complete bedlam ensued, as the servants started rushing towards them.
“Thomas!” Lady Bradley’s voice shouted out.
“What the deuce has happened?” yelled Sir John.
The servants were all rushing around. “Here man, let me help you,” one of them rushed to help. The voices bombarded Thomas with questions.
“Maria, Maria?”
“What’s happened?”
“What is all this blood?”
“Someone, get the physician!”
Thomas was aware of the voices, but he did not slow his pace, he would not let her go. He carried her each failing step until he reached her room, where he collapsed onto the bed with her.
“What has happened?” Sir John’s voice was full of concern, as he looked upon the blood-soaked form of his niece and Thomas.
They tried to prise Thomas’s fingers from the half-dead woman, for he clung to her as if he would never let her go.
“Please, Mr Bradley,” Bella’s soft tones could be heard over the noise in the room. “You have to let her go, the doctor will be here shortly and I really must see to Miss Austin.”
Seconds seemed to blend into minutes, and thirty passed before Doctor Macclesfield finally made an appearance. His air of authority brought a little calm to the chaos of the room.
Lady Bradley put a hand to Sir John’s arm as he watched on, “Sir John, let the doctor do his work,” she said, trying to guide him from the room.
“I cannot leave… Look at her, she is dead!” he cried out.
“She is not dead,” Lady Bradley informed him. “Please, Sir John, no good will come of it if we stand here gawking. Come.” He let her lead him from the room.
Doctor Macclesfield helped the servants to ease away the man that hung on to the woman. “Mr Bradley, I need to see to her—please let her go.”
One by one, they removed his white fingers that had become entwined in her clothes. His face was stained with his own tears and Maria’s blood, where he buried his head into her soft bosom.
“I… I cannot leave her,” his voice cracked, “I cannot.”
“I have to work, Mr Bradley. Please.”
When they had eventually prised him loose, the doctor saw to Tom quickly, but he was more concerned about the young woman lying on the bed, its covers drenched with her blood.
“I need hot water, lots of hot water… and towels… now please!” he commanded.
Thomas, who had regained control of his senses, even though the blow to his head had left him with a blinding headache, was fully aware that the blood covering his body had been Maria’s and not his own. With every passing second, his concern grew for the woman who lay death-like on the sodden sheets. How could anyone lose that much blood and still be alive?
He was ushered from the room; Bella had insisted that the doctor should be left to get on with his job. He looked back at his love, not knowing whether she would live or die. He did not want to leave; he wanted to be with her every second, knowing that these moments could be her last.
“Please, Mr Bradley,” the doctor scolded, “I need to work!”
“Please?” Bella said kindly to his worried face. “She is in the best of hands. You can wait just outside the door.”
Reluctantly, he removed himself from the stuffy room, and leaned against the wall on the landing, his head lowered to his chest. Servants rushed in and out, and every time the door opened, he tried to step back inside, but they shooed him out again.
“Tell me what happened?” Sir John demanded as they stood in the hallway. He hadn’t meant to sound so stern, but he was greatly worried for his niece’s safety and it just came out that way.
Thomas looked up, his face drained of all colour, his eyes shadowed with pain. His silence stretched out between them.
“I ask again, Mr Bradley, who was it?”
Maria’s face flashed into his mind, how deathly grey her skin had looked when he spotted her just below the level of the water—her hair floating hauntingly like white silk. His breath caught in his throat and he choked back a sob. He could feel the sickness in his stomach and he fought the urge to escape the scrutiny of those around him.
“Mr Bradley?”
The sound of his name crept into his head, dragging him from the horror he had seen and he lifted his head slightly to meet Sir John’s gaze, “It was Garth Lewis,” he said in a hushed voice.
“Garth Lewis?” Sir John repeated.
“I… I got there just in time. He was killing her.” He stopped, as the images came to his mind and he clutched a hand over his eyes, desperate to block it out.
“Garth Lewis! Why, the scoundrel! Where is he? Where is he, I say? I will run the blighter through!” he shouted.
Thomas hung his head with tiredness, running his blood-covered hands through his hair. He felt so very weary and it took all of his willpower not to sink to the floor and weep.
“I was sure that he would kill me too,” he suddenly spoke, as the horrific images flashed into his head once more. “He was going to shoot me, for sure.”
“Thomas?” Lady Bradley came towards her son and placed a gentle hand on his sleeve, “Where is he now?”
“He was going to shoot me,” he continued, as if he did not hear. “He tried to kill M!” His voice started to break and he gasped back a cry.
“Thomas, where is he?” she persisted.
He raised his eyes to look at the once beautiful face of his mother, which was now
ashen and full of sympathy for her son’s plight.
“Where is he, Tom?” she whispered.
“He was going to kill me!”
Lady Bradley rubbed her hand calmingly along his forearm. “Where is he now, dear?”
“He is dead,” he said in a low voice.
She looked at him in horror. Her reaction was the same as when he had informed her of his plans to have children with his mistress; the shock and disbelief had crossed her face then were all too apparent now.
“Do not worry, Mother, I did not kill him; he accidentally shot himself. You will find his body at the Crystal Pool.”
She looked quickly to the men who stood in wait of instructions and motioned them to go and find his body.
In that moment, Doctor Macclesfield came out of the room, his white shirt stained with blood. He was in the process of rolling his sleeves down, as he approached Sir John. His face held the look of a man who was to bear bad news.
“I am so sorry, Sir John,” he spoke quietly, “she has lost a lot of blood.” he touched his hand to her Uncle’s sleeve. “I am so sorry; I was unable to save the child.”
Sir John looked upon the doctor, his eyes full of sorrow.
“I fear that an infection will set in and I think you need to prepare yourself for the worst”
Thomas’s senses had suddenly come to life as he heard the good doctor’s words and kicked his aching body from the wall where he leant and moved closer. Had he heard correctly? Had the doctor just said that she had lost a child? His head had started to ache and the sickness threatened him once more. Child, his child? He had not known! How could he not have known? Remorse overtook him; he could feel the pain encroach through his whole body and settle in his chest. How could he not have known? He covered his eyes with his hands as he wept.
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