“Yes, you do,” I replied, hoping it would be a long one. Hugo had to realize that we were missing by now. I tried not to think of the fact that Max left no trace of where we’d gone. Hugo would have no idea where to search for us.
“As you know, I was arrested in place of Hugo and sent to the Tower of London where I was beaten, tortured, ridiculed, sentenced to death, and eventually sent down to Barbados for seven years of indentured labor because some mysterious benefactor bribed the judge.”
“Hugo was your mysterious benefactor. He paid for Gideon Warburton. We tried to help you, Max,” I cried, seizing the opportunity Max had just provided. Perhaps if he knew that we hadn’t abandoned him, he’d give up on this crazy plan.
“Well, that was most kind of Hugo, I’m sure,” Max replied, as if I just told him that Hugo sent his regards. “You wouldn’t believe what I went through to escape, and I won’t bore you with the details. You see, my initial plan had been to just make my way to England and return to my rightful place. You have no idea how much I miss home,” he added.
“What changed your mind?”
“I happened to learn, quite by accident, mind you, that you and Hugo were in Paris, and that you’ve had a child. Imagine my surprise,” Max said theatrically, his eyes growing wider. “By the way, is it a boy or a girl?” he suddenly asked.
“It’s a girl.”
“Hmm, shame for Hugo. I suppose he wanted a son, but I am all right with having a daughter,” he shared with me as if it were a great secret.
“What are you saying?” Horror crept up my back like cold fingers; caressing me as it threatened to choke me.
“Neve, I have no wish to harm you; I love you, and I will love your child. You have my word. We can have the life we were meant to have, you and I. I know you won’t go quietly without your baby, nor will you forgive me if anything happens to her, so I will make sure you’re both safe.”
“I don’t understand,” I replied, feeling hysteria begin to well up inside me. He was really scaring me, especially with his calm and jovial demeanor. Had he lost his mind?
“Neve, I brought you here in order to lure Hugo to his death. After I kill him, we will make our way back to England, and back to our own time. You will be free to marry me, and I will adopt Hugo’s child; I owe him that much. She will grow up calling me “Daddy.” I love the irony of that, don’t you?”
“I will not go anywhere with you,” I hissed, really terrified now.
“What reason would you have to remain here if Hugo were dead? He can be one of the first skeletons to grace this place, along with this handsome fellow. Hugo won’t even receive a proper Christian burial, which I know would be important to him, so I’ll punish him even in death.”
“Hugo has done absolutely nothing to you; he tried to help you; he risked his life for you,” I shrieked, but Max remained unmoved.
“Neve, I freely admit that Hugo is an honorable man, one who deserves your love. However, your child is a threat to my future, as are any other children you might have. If I allow Hugo to live, he might father a son, which would leave me disinherited. I would have nothing to go back to, and I couldn’t bear that after what I’ve been through. I don’t hate Hugo; as a matter of fact, I even admire him, seeing what he risked, doing he felt was right, but that doesn’t change my intent. Hugo must die, and you must come with me. History will be set to rights; Clarence will inherit, and everything will be as it should have been. I really do love you, Neve. I realized that after I saw you with Hugo. You tore my heart out.”
“You love me?” I gaped at him. “You don’t do this to people you love. And the only reason you want me is because I love him, and not you. You want his life for yourself.”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” Max agreed, nodding to himself as if the idea had only just occurred to him. “It pains me that you chose him over me, but I can see why you would. He’s a real man, not a preening, self-absorbed peacock who only cares about posturing and gain. I will be the man you want, Neve. I’ve learned much in the past, and I will make you proud,” Max said, his gaze suddenly earnest. “I will become worthy of your love, and worthy of our daughter.”
“Max, do you honestly believe that a man who would kill my husband can ever be worthy of my love? Please, let me out of here. I will go with you willingly, but leave Hugo alone. He’s suffered enough.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. Hugo cannot be allowed to reproduce. Shall I castrate him, do you think?” Max asked with a twinkle in his eye. “Would he prefer life as a gelding to death as a man? I suppose that’s an option, but I doubt he’ll submit.”
I was staring at Max, my heart pounding with fear. He was mad. His captivity had turned his mind. He must have been through hell, I’d grant him that, but he was talking like a madman. Did he really believe that I would love him after he killed Hugo, and allow him access to my only child? Did he really believe that Hugo wouldn’t put up a fight to save us?
“How will Hugo know where to find us?” I asked, praying that Archie would be on hand when he did.
“I sent a note to the house, telling him that I have you and to come alone and unarmed, or I will kill both you and the child. That should bring him running. What’s wrong with him, by the way? He looked a bit sickly the last I saw him.”
“Hugo had been shot,” I replied tersely, not wanting to give Max any more ammunition.
“He does tend to make enemies, doesn’t he? I’m surprised Lionel Finch never killed him. He certainly wanted to; I saw it in his eyes at that mockery of a trial.”
“Finch is dead. Hugo killed him, and he will kill you,” I spat out, “as he should have when you tried to brain him with a rock. He was merciful.”
“Hugo could afford to be merciful; I was no threat to him, but he is to me,” Max explained patiently.
I drew back in apprehension as I heard something coming from outside. Would Max try to shoot Hugo as he descended without even giving him a chance to defend himself? I had to distract him somehow. But, Max was onto me as I tried to divert his attention when I saw a pair of boots coming down the ladder. He got behind me with his pistol trained on the opening. Hugo jumped off the ladder and faced Max, his hands held up.
“I’m not armed, Max, as you requested,” he said soothingly. “Neve, are you all right?”
I tried to answer him, but all that came out was a desperate sob. In a few moments, Hugo could be dead, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Max held all the cards, and Hugo and I were at his mercy.
“Hugo, I know you tried to help me while I was in the Tower, and I am grateful for that; I want you to know that. I do admire you, really, but I’m afraid you must die. You have made a mess of my future, and I must set things to rights before I return to my rightful place. Sorry, old man, but sometimes sacrifices need to be made. I just want you to know that I will take good care of your wife and child. The least I can do is give you that little bit of peace.”
“Let Neve and the baby leave, Max. They don’t need to watch me die.”
“Oh, but they must,” Max replied calmly. “Neve must know for sure that you are dead, or she will never be able to move forward. I intend to marry her, old boy. We will be a proper little family.”
“She’ll never love you,” Hugo replied, his voice laced with fury.
“She will in time. I am the only person who will be able to understand what she’s been through, and it’s not as if she has much to go back to — no family, hardly any friends. I will happily provide for Neve and the baby, and in time, they’ll forget you ever existed. The child doesn’t even look like you, so not like her looks will be a reminder of dear old dad.”
“You truly are mad,” Hugo said as he looked at Max’s gleeful expression.
“Yes, I suppose I am, but there’s method to my madness. Now, shut up; I’ve heard enough from you.”
I tried to meet Hugo’s gaze, but he looked utterly shaken by Max’s revelations, the shock evident in his eyes as he stared at
his sister’s descendant. Hugo’s face was gray in the feeble light of the lanterns, and his lips moved as if he were praying. He leaned against the earthen wall of the tunnel for support, closing his eyes momentarily as he breathed deeply to combat whatever he was feeling. Max stood back, watching Hugo with interest, obviously in no hurry to fire the gun. He was enjoying this too much to let it end quickly. He’d had months to plan this, to envision how it would all play out, and now that it was a reality, it was too intoxicating to just terminate mid-performance.
Hugo doubled over, his arm across his middle as if he were going to be sick. I hoped he was stalling until Archie got there, but there was no sign of reinforcements. Max had demanded that Hugo come alone, and he did, too afraid to jeopardize our safety. It was just the four of us, and only three were coming out alive.
“Kneel,” Max ordered, pointing to a spot before him with the pistol. He was going to kill Hugo execution style. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be for your wife.”
Hugo’s eyes finally met mine. They were full of love and longing. He didn’t say anything, but his expression said it all. He was saying goodbye.
“Max, I beg you for his life,” I pleaded. “I will do anything, anything at all.”
“I would gladly take you up on that, Neve, if it were possible, but you know the situation. Hugo must never have another child, biological or even adopted. The line of succession must not be altered. History must be reset.”
“Hugo,” I cried as I tried to go to him, but Max pushed me back. “See to your daughter, Neve. I think she’s waking up.” Valentine was fussing in my arms, her eyes fully open now, gazing around at her strange surroundings. She smiled when she saw her father, revealing her two emerging bottom teeth.
“I love you both,” Hugo said as he sank to his knees in front of Max, his hands folded as if in supplication. Why wasn’t he fighting? Did he think he was protecting us? Is that why he was going to his death like a sacrificial lamb? I wanted to scream at him, urge him to fight, to resist, but Hugo looked up at Max, daring him to shoot. Their eyes held each other in thrall, the moment frozen in time just before all hell broke loose.
Max lowered the gun, ready to shoot. I closed my eyes, unable to watch as my husband met his end at the hands of someone I had once liked and trusted. I was shaking all over, which made Valentine giggle. She thought I was playing with her. I pressed her closer to my body for comfort and squeezed my eyes tighter. I was expecting to hear a gunshot, and I did. It sounded like an explosion in the small space, and a shower of dirt rained down on my head, causing me to open my eyes in alarm. A sound of animal agony tore from Max as he collapsed to his knees in front of Hugo. I had no idea what had happened, only that Max had fired upward and was now screaming and clutching his middle.
Hugo was on his feet in seconds. He grabbed Max’s gun and stuffed it into the waistband of his breeches before dragging me toward the ladder and pushing me up as I struggled to hold my skirts and the baby at the same time. I climbed out of the hole, followed by Hugo, who took Valentine away from me since I was shaking so badly I was about to drop her. He grabbed me by the elbow, and half dragged me toward the nearest street. Archie was waiting with the carriage, his arms crossed over his chest, and a look of ferocious anger stamped on his features. He gave us a quick examination before flinging open the door and helping me into the carriage.
Hugo climbed in and put his free arm around me, drawing me close. I could see that he was in pain, but he just shook his head as I tried to take the squirming child away from him. Valentine was howling with terror, having been frightened by the shot, but Hugo held her close and whispered to her until she began to calm down. She grabbed onto his finger and began to gnaw, the pressure easing the pain in her swollen gums.
“I don’t understand,” I stammered. “What just happened? I had my eyes shut; I couldn’t bear to watch. I thought this was it.”
Hugo shook his head, giving me a look of pure astonishment. “Did you really think that I would allow myself to be executed?” he asked, pretending to be hurt. “You know me better than that, I think. I needed an element of surprise, sweetheart. I know you were frightened, but it’s all over now.”
“What did you do?” I asked again as my mind began to accept the fact that we were now safe. “You were unarmed.”
“I grabbed a piece of a broken bone when I leaned against the wall,” Hugo explained. “I saw it protruding and needed an excuse to get close to it. I knocked Max’s arm upward just before he fired and drove the bone fragment into his stomach.”
“Oh, dear God,” I gasped. “You stabbed him in the gut?”
Hugo smiled guiltily, but I could see that he was quite pleased with himself. “Hugo, why did you not finish him off?” I was angry now, the fear having morphed into aggression. “Why did you let him live after what he was going to do? This is the second time he’s tried to kill you.”
Hugo shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. I could see the emotions playing over his lean face, the regret, the sorrow, the loss. “Neve, I don’t want to be the one to take Max’s life. He’s the only living descendant of Jane; he’s the only thing left of my sister. I know that she deserved what happened to her, but I still feel responsible. Perhaps there’s something I could have done to save her from her fate. To kill Max in cold blood would be like killing Jane, and I couldn’t do it. If he dies, let it not be by my hand. His injury is severe enough; he’s not likely to survive.”
“But if he lives, he’ll find us. We’ll never be safe,” I wailed, suddenly scared.
“He won’t find us,” Hugo replied.
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because we are leaving.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, shocked.
“I don’t know. That’s the beauty of my plan. No one can betray us if they don’t know where we’ve gone. I will decide once we get there.”
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but shut it again, suddenly overcome by fatigue. I was emotionally drained, and Hugo would take care of things; he always did. I felt guilty for doubting him down in the mine, but who could blame me? I’d been terrified.
Hugo helped me into the house and made sure I had a large brandy before going to lie down for a bit. I was still shaky, my mind unable to process what had just happened to us. I’d never wished anyone harm, but at that moment, I hoped Max would bleed to death and vanish from our lives forever. I needed to know that we were safe.
September 2014
Surrey, England
Chapter 62
Simon Harding let out a growl of exasperation as he pushed away a pile of bank statements. He’d been at it for nearly three hours and had accomplished very little. Max’s affairs were a mess to say the least. Simon had always assumed that Max’s fastidiousness extended to his business affairs, but he had been wrong to presume anything. There was an accountant in the village who saw to the quarterly filings and year-end taxes, but, for the most part, the accounts were appallingly disorganized.
Simon had put off the task as long as he possibly could, but he’d had some vacation time coming to him, and this was as good a time as any to tackle the business at hand. Max had been gone for just over a year now, and although it had taken months to get a court order to allow Simon to access Max’s business accounts, Simon was only now getting started. He’d taken care of paying the employees, making retirement fund contributions, and approving whatever repairs were necessary, but the bulk of the paperwork had been left until a later time. Truth be told, Simon wouldn’t even be there if he and Heather hadn’t had a blazing row last month and decided (well, actually he decided) to slow things down a bit. Heather was starting to drop very obvious hints about marriage, and leaving strategically placed adverts for engagement rings and honeymoon destinations.
Simon liked Heather, enjoyed her company, and more often than not shagged her without the benefit of picturing someone else, but the thought of committing t
o her for a lifetime sent him into a tailspin of pure panic. Would he still want her five, ten years from now? Would he still find her attractive, witty, or even bearable? Was he ready to settle down with one woman and start a family, because that’s exactly what the next step would be? He was only twenty-seven, for the love of God. What was the rush? At twenty-three, Heather was hardly deafened by the tolling of the biological clock. They had time, why couldn’t they just enjoy it and see where their relationship took them?
Simon had tried calling her about twenty minutes ago, but the call went straight to voicemail. She was avoiding him in the hopes of making him wonder what she was up to, and coming to the inevitable conclusion that he would lose her to another man if he didn’t put a ring on her finger with the utmost urgency. Simon pondered the notion of Heather with another man. Was he jealous? Did he care? He supposed it would hurt to know that she’d moved on so quickly, but he would recover, probably sooner than Heather thought. How much had they even had in common besides the sex? Granted, the sex was good, but nowadays, women were as talented as porn stars, having the benefit of years of aimless shagging and online tutorials. Practice made perfect, or so his mother always said, but of course she wasn’t referring to sex.
Still, he would hate to lose Heather. They were a good fit, when all was said and done, and he’d need to smooth Heather’s ruffled feathers before too long. He wasn’t ready to marry her, but perhaps he could ask her to move in. His flat was big enough for two, and living together would be a good prelude to marriage. Maybe Heather would see what a slob he was and change her mind about marrying him. She wasn’t the type to spend the rest of her life picking up after him and keeping the house tidy.
Simon sighed and dialed Heather again, then disconnected the call when it went to voicemail and threw his phone on top of the pile of statements. He opened the bottom drawer of the desk to see if there was anything else inside. A battered-looking notebook came out; the pages yellowed with time and the ink faded to a dull brown. The date on the first page caught Simon’s eye. The entry had been made over a century ago. Well, anything was better than looking at all this boring paperwork. Simon began to read, quickly getting absorbed into the story.
Sins of Omission Page 34