Surging with resolution, Catherine was instantly on her feet. “Find Galen and tell him I am following Sara to the cliffs!” she commanded.
The courtyard was empty, the servants having taken shelter from the pelting rain. The clouds were black and ominous, the thunder moving closer and closer.
Catherine was quick to saddle her horse and even quicker to mount the mare. “Run hard!” she urged. “We must find her!”
The storm that threatened to unleash itself held out no longer. Its rage challenged Catherine’s fear, but it did not deter her urgency as she raced to the cliffs. The horse bolted across the space between the castle gate and the cliffs, heedless to the thunder above or the slick mud below. Catherine held tight, squinting against the taunting rain.
As she drew near, Catherine saw her sister’s small body silhouetted against the darkening sky. To Catherine’s horror, Sara was standing dangerously close to the edge with her head low against the growling wind.
Catherine reined her horse in sharply and slowly dismounted. Not daring to frighten Sara, she inched forward, her hand outstretched. “Please, please come away from the edge. We can talk over here where it is safer,” Catherine said, trying to keep fear from her voice.
Sara did not move. “I have always loved you, Catherine. You are everything I wished I could be. And I also hated you for being everything I knew I could not.” The wind whipped her hair wildly about her head as she turned to face Catherine. “I’ve always felt so alone. But now I have this babe.” Sara stroked her belly. “It will be just the two of us.”
The wind began to rise with more intensity, pushing rain down upon them.
Catherine could hardly hear her own voice above the storm. “I am sorry if I have wronged you. Please come away from the edge and let us talk!”
Sara’s clothes were now soaked through, her hair plastered heavily to her head and shoulders. Her expression remained calm.
“You fear for me?” her voice raised against the wind. “Why? Is it because I have something you want? Have no worries, Catherine. I have no intention of plunging to my death.”
Catherine dare not turn at the sound of an approaching horse.
Galen reigned in his stallion and slowly dismounted. He quietly approached Catherine. “What does she mean to do?”
“I do not know!” Catherine cried. “’Tis my fault, Galen. She blames me.”
Out of the drenched air arose a tune. Sara was humming a sound that sang of peace.
Catherine and Galen stared at Sara, who stood with both hands on her belly, face raised to the sky, her expression almost angelic.
Long minutes passed and the slow smile that began to form on Sara’s face sent chills down Catherine’s spine.
“Sara, please. Come to me.” Catherine took a step forward, slowly reaching out with a shaky hand.
The humming stopped and Sara looked at her sister. No knife could have impaled Catherine deeper than the soundless words Sara’s eyes said to her, for in them were malice, revenge, and triumph.
Catherine drew her hand back to stifle a scream. She saw in Sara’s eyes what she now meant to do.
One backward step. One small step that would separate them forever.
Catherine and Galen lunged to catch her, reaching out for her hands, but missing completely. They stared in horrified shock as Sara toppled backwards, dropping with the falling rain, and crashing onto the rocks below.
“Sara!” Catherine’s scream was lost in the storm, becoming part of the slashing rain and the roaring wind that surrounding them. Galen grabbed her around her waist, pulling her back from the edge.
They huddled in shocked silence as they looked down at Sara’s lifeless body, draped across the rocks below in a grossly unnatural position. The black waters pushed against her arms and legs as if urging her to rise.
Disbelief robbed Catherine of her breath until panic welled up inside, stretching, until a scream finally broke free. Her hands covered her mouth, but she could not stop the noise. She covered her ears to shut out her shrieks, but doing so only made it louder.
Stop! She willed herself. Think! Think! Sara needs me! Clamping her mouth against the scream, she looked around wildly, frantically searching for a way down the cliff.
Galen grabbed her by the shoulders, but she cried, “Let me go!” She let loose a barrage of fists upon his chest. “I have to fix her!”
Thrust against Galen’s chest, she continued to her fight to escape.
“Catherine! It is too late!”
She twisted from his grip, but he caught her and forced her to look at him.
Wild, crazed eyes met his, fists slamming into his chest.
“No! It is not! It is not too late!”
“Catherine…” Galen’s voice cracked with grief.
And suddenly, she knew he spoke the truth. He had never lied to her, nor would he do so now. She began to shake uncontrollably, chilled with pain and grief.
Without a word, Galen pulled her against him, wrapping his arms protectively around her.
Burying her head in his chest, Catherine closed her eyes tight, trying to shut out the look in her sister’s eyes and the ache of her heart as it broke apart, piece by miserable piece.
Chapter 35
“Brandi!”
Eryn bolted violently upright and drew her arm across her lips to rake away the sweat that had beaded above them. She looked frantically around her bedroom, her heart pounding against her chest. The sheets next to her were cold and undisturbed, the ceiling above white and unblinking, and the walls seemingly gave her wide berth as she tried to catch her breath.
Her mind frantically backpedaled from the nightmare that stared her down.
She and two others, one of them a painfully thin girl, the other a tall man, stood on a cliff high above jagged rocks engulfed by black water that was being thrashed about by the storm. With the thin girl teetering precariously on the edge, they were oblivious to the gale that whipped around them. Eryn was terrified that the girl would be toppled by the force of the wind or perhaps the rain-soaked ground beneath the girl’s slippered feet would give way. Eryn looked to the man to implore his help…only to find Bryce staring at the girl with his usual cool and unreadable expression.
Eryn followed his gaze back to the edge of the cliff where, instead of the thin girl, Brandi now stood. Through the wind, she heard Brandi humming a tune, so eerily peaceful and disturbingly calm, but it gave Eryn hope. Eryn thought if only she could coax Brandi away from the edge, they could talk. Eryn just knew she could help her.
She hadn’t known how wrong she was until it was too late, until the moment when Brandi ceased her humming and told Eryn with a look so unmistakably filled with hate and jealousy and with a smile that curled with perverse satisfaction, that her death would be on Eryn’s hands.
Eryn’s muscles ached from the strain of reaching for her as Brandi took a step into nothingness. Eryn would have tumbled over the edge herself had Bryce not grabbed her around the waist and held her against him. Guilt road hard on Eryn, knowing Brandi’s death was her fault and that her suicide had been deliberately done to punish Eryn.
Eryn blinked hard, trying to bring her room into focus. She brought very tremulous hands up to her face, wiping away both sweat and tears.
This nightmare had been much like her own life now, she realized. There was a certain darkness that permeated the three of them, tying them together in some kind of karmic cesspool. Eryn hugged a pillow to her chest like a lifeline.
If we don’t master lessons in this life, they will carry over to the next lifetime.
Eryn was finally beginning to see the pattern in her life; a pattern of emotional torment and guilt, and possession masked as love.
Taking a few deep breaths, she ran her fingers through her hair and kicked the covers from her legs, suddenly determined. Though Bryce was no longer sharing her bed, he was still sharing her life. He was downstairs. Waiting. Hoping she would change her mind. But their relationshi
p was over. Whatever karma she was carrying over, had to be dealt with.
≈
“Hey.” Eryn said.
She stood in the doorway watching Bryce leaning over his drafting table, his practiced hand sketching and measuring the lines that would make up the newest performing arts center. He was throwing himself into the Cohen project with a vengeance. It kept him busy in the hours when he came home, giving him reason to avoid Eryn.
Bryce had abandoned his attempts to salvage what was left between them. Eryn hadn’t encouraged him, too torn by her own feelings. His betrayal had forced her to open her eyes to reality. There were so many things she’d chosen to ignore, and now she realized that obligation alone couldn’t possibly hold two people together.
Bryce paused at the sound of her voice, his hand poised, his body still.
“Can we talk?” Her voice held no anger, only weariness. Talking was something they hadn’t done for days except for simple courtesies over coffee cups, and now she was breaking the silence with those three little words.
She saw the slight dip of his head, the expansion of his chest as he sucked in a big breath, and the momentary hesitation before he turned to face her.
She cringed. She was prepared for indifference. She was prepared for the absolute control he had over his emotions. She wasn’t prepared for the sadness, the regret, and concession. Usually so unreadable, his eyes now hid nothing.
She gestured to the couch tucked in the corner. “Can we sit?” She walked past him, feeling the weight of his stare as he followed her.
He sat next to her, his elbows on his knees and fingers locked together. His eyes were pleading with her, saying what his lips would not.
Unable to return his gaze, she stared at her hands. Her eyes began to sting and her vision blurred. She swallowed hard. “You know I have to leave.”
His voice was thick when he finally spoke. “I wish I could take it back, Eryn. You can’t even imagine how I regret what I did.” He shook his head and took a deep, quivering breath. “It was your journal. There was someone else,” he whispered more to himself than to her.
She dropped her face into her hands, fingers pressing along her eyes, moving to massage her temples.
“I’d been having dreams, Bryce. It was all that talk about reincarnation. I just needed to write things down, things that I felt, stuff that I saw. It was the only way I could try to make sense of them. I had no one to talk to about it.” She looked at the ceiling and blinked, trying to rid herself of the tears. “Did you know she resented me for everything that I had?” Her voice began to crack and her sniffle betrayed her hurt. “I really don’t think she even liked me.”
Eryn shook her head as she went on. “All these years I had no idea. She was going to find a way to hurt me, and she used you to do it.”
“But I just wanted to hurt you.”
Eryn twisted her wedding band that still wrapped around her finger. Could there be a shadow from their past that has been covering their relationship all this time?
“Well, maybe that’s just it,” she said. Like finding that last puzzle piece, it started to make sense. “Maybe there was something else going on inside you, and Brandi just lit the fuse that set you off. She gave you the excuse you needed.”
“What?” His gaze turned sharply at her.
“Even before this happened, I’ve always felt you’ve been angry, like you wanted to punish me for something.”
“How can you say that?” He reached over and took her hand in his, lacing his fingers with hers. His eyes, gray mist, held hers. “I need you Eryn. Ever since I saw you in high school, I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else being with you.”
Eryn finally met his gaze. Big, beautiful, confident Bryce, the man who could have any woman he wanted, was finally opening up.
His voiced was low. “I’ve never felt you really wanted me, but I wasn’t going to let you go.”
She knew that admission of need was hard for him. Usually so strong, so controlled, he was now admitting his vulnerability.
“I know I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did,” he said. His expression darkened before looking away. “Hell, I know that if you had sex with another man, I’d probably hold a grudge against you forever.” He sighed deeply. “There has to be a way to fix this.”
She slowly shook her head. The reason she was with Bryce, though she hated to admit it, had more to do with obligation than with love. She cared for him so much, but the passion just wasn’t there.
Bryce buried his face in his hands. “Shit. I can’t believe how badly I screwed this up.”
She slid off the couch and kneeled in front of him. “Bryce, I want you to see that it is not just what you did with Brandi. Things have never been right for us, and no matter how hard we try, it’s not ever going to work.” She crouched lower, peering into his face. “Maybe Brandi had to happen, to get us to move on with our lives.” She tucked his hair behind his ears. “Come on, Bryce. I haven’t been happy for a long time and you’ve got to admit you haven’t been too happy either.”
He let his hands slide from his face, ready to protest, but she stopped him.
“Something here,” she said, tapping her chest, “has been calling to me, and I’ve ignored it for too long.”
He pressed his lips together hard, but couldn’t stop them from quivering. Dark brows crowded together over his glistening eyes.
“This is it then. You’re really leaving me.”
“Oh Bryce,” she said, snaking her arms around his waist. She pressed her cheek to his. “Please know that I love you, but not in the way you need me to.”
He held her tight against him, his body trembling. Defeated tears mingled between them. His short intakes of air rumbled in his chest and quivered with each breath he took.
This was harder than she thought it would be, watching and feeling him hurt like this, but she was gaining strength knowing this was the only way. He leaned into her touch as she wiped his cheeks with the backs of her fingers.
“Don’t you see, Bryce? When you don’t follow your heart, a part of you dies. When you live for others, when you stop living for yourself, that’s suicide. I can’t do that anymore.”
He nodded, once again dropping his face into his hands.
She stroked his hair back one more time. She wondered what it was going to be like, now that she was breaking this destructive cycle. The bundle of oppressiveness, guilt, worry, frustration, and the endless questions she carried for so many years was already slipping from her open palms.
She knew there was something out there for her, waiting until she was ready.
She stood up, determination straightening her back. She was definitely ready.
Chapter 36
“He is asking for you, milady.” Emelie whispered her words to Lady Catherine. “Master Jonathan desires an audience.”
How quickly things change, Catherine mused. Only a fortnight ago she would have succumbed to the bliss upon hearing those words. He is asking for you. Now, those words made her sick at heart.
Her world, once so solid, had abruptly crumbled to pieces beneath her feet. Nothing was the same anymore. Catherine wondered at the chain of occurrences that has led her to this day. Was there something she could have done to prevent her sister’s death? Perhaps if she were to have been more caring and patient with Sara, her jealousy may never have taken root. If only she had not made Galen wait so long, had she only agreed to marry him sooner…
Catherine focused on the embroidery she held. Since Sara’s death, she had tried to escape into each stitch, meticulously driving her heartache down with each push of the needle. Her fingertips grazed over the needlework she had been laboring over.
“When did his ship arrive?” She asked solemnly.
Emelie stepped from behind Catherine and knelt before her.
“Three days ago.”
Catherine nodded. “You have seen Cedric?”
“Yes, milady.”
A faint light flickered deep in Catherine’s eyes now as she looked up from her needlework. Her voice dipped into a whisper. “And is he well?”
Emelie and Catherine looked at each other, their gazes clinging through the long painful moments that stretched between them. Tears blurred their vision, releasing sorrow in each tear that rolled down their cheeks.
“Yes, milady,” Emelie said quietly. “They are both well.”
Emelie wrapped her arms around herself to still her trembling, her lips pressed tightly together. Moments passed for a time before Emelie spoke again.
“Master Jonathan wishes to give you his condolences himself, milady.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I saw sadness in his eyes when I told him of Lady Sara’s death. He could not understand what would drive her to such madness. He is concerned for your well being.”
They both turned sharply when the door opened. Lord Roberts stepped into the bedchamber, his movements slow and heavy.
“Might I have a word with you, Catherine?”
Emelie dipped a curtsey to Lord Roberts and Catherine before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Her father’s slumped shoulders and his slow and heavy movements made him seem so much older. Gone was the confident warrior accustomed to triumphing over the enemy. Now he was a man who was bested for the second time by death. Though he remained stoic before his people, every night he would withdraw to his chambers to give into his grief, his sobs echoing through the corridor.
Catherine quickly put aside her needlework and went to her father, grasping his hands in hers. The sparkle in his eyes had dimmed, but she could still see the love that fiercely burned within.
With gentle force he pulled her close and wrapped his powerful arms around her, holding fast to his one remaining daughter. She breathed in the closeness, his warmth, and his love, letting them flow through her, willing them to ease her own pain.
He pulled away just enough to look at Catherine’s face, keeping her encircled within his arms.
“My sweet Catherine,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “So much like your mother. So steadfast and kind.”
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