Chapter 42
Declan pulled Allana closer to him abroad Colonel. William Meredith, their unexpected savior, was guiding them and the rest of his men toward his camp. After the brawl with Lucas, Declan and Allana were guided back toward the house where they officially met Meredith—a man Allana apparently already knew. They learned Connor, Lord Tananguard, and Garret Meredith—the injured man in the kitchen—had been rushed back to Meredith’s camp.
Declan had wanted nothing better than to take Allana far away from this entire mess, but William had stopped him because of his injuries. The man had insisted the two come to his camp and have his wife doctor them. Thus, Declan found himself riding aimlessly through the woods toward an unknown destination, clinging to his precious wife for dear life. He had almost lost her today, and the idea pained him. He needed her and knew she needed him. One was not whole without the other.
He could feel her trembling body beneath him and pulled her tighter for comfort. She clung to his good arm as though afraid of being separated from him again.
“You are safe, my love,” Declan whispered before kissing the top of her head.
“I know,” came her quiet response. Her voice sounded empty and distant. Declan wanted to cry out for her to come back from the place in which she’d locked herself away. She hadn’t been the same since Lucas’s death. Declan feared for her. Feared her spirit was broken and lost to him. Was Lucas’s ghost haunting her, still fighting to claim her? How could Declan fight that?
“The camp is just on the other side of this rise,” Meredith said.
Declan sighed with relief. He was exhausted and knew Allana must be too. They had been through much in the last twenty-four hours with hardly any sleep.
They made it to the top of the rise and received their first glimpse of William Meredith’s camp. It was a thriving community rather than a rugged camp like they had suspected. Friendly faces welcomed the visitors as they entered its vicinity. Declan climbed down from Colonel then helped Allana do the same.
“Allana!” a voice cried out. Both Declan and Allana turned to see Lord Tananguard limping as he ran toward them. He pulled her from Declan’s care and hugged her tightly while she sobbed into his shoulder. “Oh, my sweet girl.” He held her closely as tears slipped down his face.
“Is Connor well?” Declan asked with concern.
“He is. William’s wife, Kara, dressed his wounds. He is sleeping now,” replied Lord Tananguard who still clung to his daughter.
Allana finally broke the embrace to cling to her husband once more. Declan sighed within. He felt pleased she’d returned to him.
“How is Lilly?” Allana asked quietly.
Lord Tananguard grinned broadly. “You have a sister,” he said with pride. “My Lilly had a baby girl!”
Allana smiled at her father, and, yet again, Declan thought he saw a haunted look there. “Congratulations, Father.”
“Yes, congratulations,” Declan echoed his wife. He wasn’t concerned with the baby. He was concerned with his wife. He needed to get her alone and simply hold her.
“Come. You must see her,” Lord Tananguard said eagerly, all thoughts of Lucas and the past twenty-four hours forgotten to him.
“Not this one,” William Meredith interrupted. “You are in need of my wife,” he finished, pointing to Declan.
“I’m fine,” Declan argued.
“No, you’re not. You’re dripping blood all over,” Meredith said point blank.
“But….” Declan looked helplessly at Allana, who smiled in reassurance.
“I will be fine. You need to go with him,” she said to his disappointment. He wanted her to come too, but her father ushered her in the opposite direction.
* * *
Allana held the tiny baby gingerly. “She is beautiful, Lilly,” she said softly.
“Thank you,” came Lilly’s serene reply. Allana’s sweet stepmother lay back on her makeshift bed in exhaustion, yet she held an aura of awe and peace as she smiled at her precious babe.
“What will you name her?” Allana asked.
“I think I will name her Greta, after my mother. Greta Kara Tananguard,” she replied with a tender smile. Lord Tananguard smiled in turn and bent to kiss his beautiful wife.
“That’s lovely,” Allana said, looking down at the sleeping baby in her arms. “Greta,” she whispered. Tears wanted to slip from her eyes. She felt so lost. All she wanted was to be wrapped in Declan’s arms, safe like this child was. Yet, every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lucas staring back with those lifeless eyes. Would she ever be free of him?
Allana took one last look at her half-sister then handed her back to Lilly. “Congratulations Lilly. She really is beautiful.”
Lilly smiled up at her.
“I will leave you three alone now. You look as though you could use a good night’s rest.” With those words, Allana kissed her stepmother on the forehead, squeezed her father’s hand, and left the tent. She looked for Declan, but could not find him. She found a quiet corner of the camp where she curled up next to a tree and wept. She wept from the pain she felt in her heart, pain cause by Lucas. She needed Declan, needed his warmth and his love. Where was he?
“Dear Allana, how are you faring?” a kind voice asked, breaking through her turmoil. It was William Meredith.
Allana wiped violently at her tears. “I am fine, thank you,” she lied.
“Still trying to be so strong like the young girl who came to my rescue all of those years ago.” He smiled endearingly at her.
She laughed lightly then burst into tears. He sat down beside her, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to her. She sniffled. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” came his response. They sat in silence for a few moments as she dabbed at her eyes. Then he began to speak. “I don’t know if you ever knew this, but my brother was shot saving my life,” he began.
Allana stared at him in horror. “Oh William, I never knew. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” came his quiet response. “You were so strong for me that night. You brought my wife to me, and you helped with Joseph’s care. I have never known a child so fearless.”
“I was scared to death that night, William,” she admitted.
“As was I, my dear.” He smiled sadly and continued his story. “When Joseph was still coherent, before we made it to your home, he made me promise to take care of his family. Of course I told him the promise was foolish because he was going to live, but he made me make it nonetheless. He had a beautiful wife whom he met on his travels through Spain, and together they had two beautiful children, Josephine and Garret.
“After my brother died, I sent money to Sophia and her children each month. After all, my business was part Joseph’s, and what money I sent them was rightfully theirs. I did much to support them. I purchased their home and put it in Sophia’s name. I made certain they wanted for nothing, yet I knew no amount of money I sent could make up for the loss of a husband and father.
“Then, about two years after my brother died, Sophia came down with the fever and was lost to us. Garret came here to live afterward, but Josephine chose to stay in London and work even though she had no need to. I would have sent her all the money she needed, but she insisted she didn’t need me or my help.
“Ah, young Josephine. A stubborn one, she was. Still is, but back then she was different. She was a free spirit, perfect in every way. Kind, loving, gentle, beautiful…a very good woman.” His face looked sad and troubled.
“What happened to her?” Allana asked.
“He broke her, killing her spirit. She has not been the same since him,” he replied quietly. “She loved him with all her heart, and he crushed that love. She seemed lost without him. She grew sick, losing the will to live. Then she had his child, and things changed. She put all of her love and happiness into that child, but even that little boy hasn’t been able to give back all that’s been taken from her. I catch her crying at night for the love she has los
t, and it angers me beyond anything. Her whole life was ahead of her, but Lucas Hoffman destroyed it.”
“I…I’m sorry,” Allana said sympathetically.
“Allana, do not let him do the same to you,” William said with passion. “You hold his death on your shoulders. You didn’t pull the trigger.”
“But I would have if—”
“Even so, the choice was clear. Hoffman had to be stopped.”
Allana swallowed hard as more tears began to form.
“My dear, it is always sad when a life is taken, but do not let Lucas’s death or the acts he performed in life take yours.” He paused, waiting for her to absorb those words. “Love can bring you peace if you let it. It has me. My wife is my lifeline. She was there when my brother died. She was there to nurse me out of my turmoil of guilt. You have a man who loves you, and I suggest you go to him and let the love you share wipe away your pain.”
Allana stared at him in wonder, fresh tears in her eyes. William Meredith was a wise man. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you for telling me those things.” He gave her a fatherly hug that she returned tearfully.
A voice cleared, breaking the embrace between Allana and William. It was Kara.
“My apologies for interrupting your conversation, but I must see to you now, Allana,” Kara said.
“Oh, I am well, Kara. Surely there are others who need you more than I,” Allana protested. Her injuries were minor. They were bruises, a cut lip, and another small cut upon her back—nothing she couldn’t take care of on her own. She didn’t need a healer. She needed to find Declan. She needed to be with him, to feel his love and tell him how much she loved him in return.
Kara sighed, but nodded. “There is a basin of water in the hut you and your husband will share tonight. I will prepare a salve for the bruises and cuts and leave it outside the entrance.”
“Thank you, Kara. And thank you for taking care of my family.”
“It has been my honor, Allana. Now off with you. Your man is waiting,” Kara said with a smile, motioning to Allana’s right.
Allana looked to see Declan watching her from a distance. He did seem to be waiting, possibly even hoping for her to come to him. “I believe you’re right. Please excuse me.”
She walked to him, never taking her eyes from him. He met her gaze evenly and simply waited. When he had returned from London, she’d wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she dared not. Now she did not hesitate. She strode to him, arms opening before she even reached him. He wrapped her up tightly, ignoring the pain she knew must be in his shoulder as he held her.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you more than anything, and I never want to be away from you again.”
“I’m never letting you go again,” he said gruffly as he held her.
She looked up at him then stretched onto her toes to brush his lips with hers. “Thank you.”
“Oh Allana. I thought I had lost you,” he admitted.
“Never. I will always be yours and only yours.”
“I need you, Allana,” he said softly to her. “You are my perfect match. I will love you the rest of our lives if you let me.”
“I would have it no other way.”
That night, he simply held her in his arms. The love they felt was beyond passion. It was soul binding. They loved each other in ways that brought the healing her mind, body, and soul needed. They were destined for each other, and now they had the rest of their lives to live and love.
Epilogue
Connor woke early the next morning. The pain in his shoulder had become unbearable. He finally gave up sleep and slipped out of the small tent he was sharing with two other men. The sun was dimly rising above the horizon, taking some of the night shadows out of the camp. Connor shivered as he watched it. It was a cold, brisk morning, and he felt a slight fever creeping through his body. In the middle of the camp was a small fire still burning. Connor made his way to it and sat on a log close to it, trying to get warm. He was shivering uncontrollably now, and he felt light headed. If only he could get warm. He wanted his own bed, some peace and quiet, and a bottle of whisky. Then he would sleep for two or three days straight, hopefully giving his shoulder time to heal. As it was, he felt so weak and dizzy and cold he was miserable.
A small boy came rushing through the camp, stopping short when spotting Connor. Connor stared at the boy. He was seeing things now; he had to be. The fever and loss of blood were making him delusional. Looking at the boy in front of him was like looking at a dark-haired image of himself at that age. He blinked and shook his head to try to clear his mind. The boy was still there.
“Garret Joseph Meredith,” a female voice hissed. “Get back here this instant.”
A woman stepped out of the shadows of a tent, looking tired, warn, and more beautiful than Connor could remember her being. Now he knew he was seeing things. What was Sophia doing here? He whispered her name, afraid she might disappear if he said it too loudly.
She froze when she noticed him sitting there, all color draining from her cheeks.
“Sophia?” he asked again, standing to go to her. His spinning head and weak body caused him to stumble to the ground. His shoulder ached worse than anything at the moment, and he could feel fresh blood trickling from it and down his chest. He tried to focus his eyes on her. She was still there. The fantasy hadn’t disappeared yet. Pain seared his soul as he stared at her. It was worse than the pain his wound caused. A tear slipped down his cheek. “I thought I had lost you forever,” he whispered.
He tried to stand again, but lacked the strength. His body felt cold and foreign. He needed his bed and his whisky to make this a nice dream instead of such a cold one. He fell the rest of the way to the ground, breathing heavily.
She watched him for a moment looking as if she wanted to run from him. Instead she went to him, rolling him onto his back and placing his head in her lap.
“This feels so real,” he said, reaching up to touch her lovely face. A smile spread across his.
“That’s because it is real, you fool. Now stay still, so I can look at your wound.” Her voice was bitter, but he could still see love in her tear-glistened eyes.
She opened his shirt to examine his wound then pressed her wrist to his forehead. Her touch brought warmth into his freezing body even though her skin felt cold on his. He yearned to hold her once again.
“Oh Connor, you’re burning with fever, and you’ve lost so much blood. Garret, go fetch Aunt Kara,” she ordered the young boy.
“Yes, Mama,” the boy answered, running off into the morning.
“You have a son?” Connor asked in a daze. “Handsome boy.”
“That’s because he’s yours,” she answered solemnly.
Connor laughed. “I always wanted a son.” His mind was dizzying. He wasn’t thinking straight, but so far this was the best dream he could imagine…or was it real?
“Oh, Connor. You’re going to be so angry when you recover. Know this—it was for the best that I never told you.” She caressed his face tenderly.
Her touch seemed very real. He clasped her hand and stared at it. She didn’t disappear, and she felt solid. He wasn’t dreaming. “You’re truly here,” he whispered, pulling her hand to his lips. The act was more than his weakened body could bear. His vision began to go dim, and he had to fight to stay conscious. “Sophia, my love…” he paused, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Sophia…stay…with me….”
“Connor. Don’t go to sleep, Connor,” she said as he closed his eyes. “Connor! Connor! Somebody help me!”
Connor could hear the panic in her voice. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her he would be well again. He tried to open his eyes, but they refused to cooperate. He tried to squeeze her hand in reassurance, but his own slipped from hers instead. He did not have the strength for any of it. He just needed rest. Then he would…darkness took him.
He slept fitfully, fighting for his life, fighting for t
he chance to see her again and to make things right. And he would make things right. He’d finally found her. After years of searching, he could finally tell her how wrong he’d been to let her slip away. He could never love another the way he did Sophia, and he would not lose her again.
Connor didn’t wake to full awareness for nearly a week. When he did, he was home in his own bed, and Sophia Murrieta—Josephine Meredith—was gone.
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The Lady and the Earl Page 34