Comes the Dawn
The Wonderland Series:
Book 5
By Irina Shapiro
Copyright
© 2016 by Irina Shapiro
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for quotations in printed reviews, without permission in writing from the author.
All characters are fictional. Any resemblances to actual people (except those who are actual historical figures) are purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Epilogue
Notes
Excerpt from Haunted Ground
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Prologue
"Comes The Dawn"
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today,
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure...
That you really are strong,
And you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn...
With every goodbye you learn.
Author: Unknown
April 1689
London, England
Chapter 1
Feeble moonlight streamed through the narrow window of the cell casting a silvery pall onto the stone floor. The flame of a single candle threw shifting shadows onto the walls, giving off barely enough light to see by, the tiny orange orb the only warmth in the chill of the prison. The night outside was utterly still, as if even the wind was too wary to blow, but the air inside the cell crackled with tension, an electric current coursing between the two men facing each other across the small space, both braced for a confrontation.
Hugo studied Max’s features. He hadn’t seen Max in several years, not since the showdown in the Paris mine when Max had kidnapped Neve and Valentine and lured Hugo to what he hoped was his own execution. Things didn’t go according to plan, at least not for Max, but Hugo had to admit that on some level he was relieved that he hadn’t killed Max that day since he didn’t want the man’s death on his conscience. But, oh how he wished never to lay eyes on him again. How was it possible for a man he barely knew to harbor such hatred against him and pursue him across time and space?
Max hadn’t changed much physically, but something had shifted in his demeanor. There was a watchfulness that hadn’t been there before, a strange sort of resignation almost, which left Hugo wary and confused. Max’s presence in Hugo’s cell was inexplicable, but then again, most things Max had done since their unfortunate meeting years ago in the twenty-first century had been beyond comprehension. Max was driven by a madness which had been nearly impossible to detect behind his urbane exterior, his need to possess Neve bordering on obsession. Was this why he was here now, to gloat over Hugo’s helplessness as he once again made a play for his family? Hugo balled his hands into fists, ready to beat the man to a pulp, but he sensed no outward hostility from the other man, just a sense of expectation, so he took a step back and forced himself to relax.
“Have you come to finish me off?” Hugo asked calmly. “Or just to gloat?”
“Neither, actually,” Max replied, holding up both hands to show Hugo that he held no concealed weapon. His expression was strangely bland, which irritated Hugo even further.
“Then why are you here?”
“I had to speak to you. It’s rather important.”
“Well, say your piece then,” Hugo said with a shrug. “I can’t imagine what we have to say to each other at this juncture.”
“Hugo, I’ve wronged you, and I wish to make amends,” Max began, but was interrupted by Hugo’s harsh laugh. This really was too much.
“You must be joking,” Hugo spat out. “I’d like you to leave now.”
“Hugo, please, hear me out.” Max spread his hands in a gesture of peace, but Hugo was in no mood to listen. The man had unimaginable gall. Perhaps Hugo would be more inclined to listen if they were on even terms, but Hugo’s position of helplessness infuriated him. He was locked up, unarmed, and entirely without resources, unable to defend himself or his family.
“Go away, Max,” Hugo growled, suddenly furious. “You’ve tried to kill me twice. You’ve kidnapped my wife and child, and now that I am finally where you want me, you wish to make amends? I find that difficult to believe. Just know this: if you do anything to harm Neve or my children, I will haunt you from beyond the grave.” Hugo winced at the absurdity of this ludicrous statement. Was that the only thing left to him? Making empty threats?
“Will you just shut up and listen?” Max retorted, his patience at an end. “I realize you’re angry, and you have every right to be, but I’ve had a lot of time to think, Hugo. I’ve always imagined myself to be special. I ridiculed the very notion of God, believing myself to be too superior to need such an obvious delusion. Faith was for those who were
less fortunate than I, for those who needed a higher being to pander to, a fairy tale to make their pitiful lives more bearable. I took everything for granted, and thought that my money and position could pave the way for anything I wanted. And it had, until I met your charming wife,” he added sarcastically. “Coming to this God-forsaken century made me realize that I am nothing, and it’s a painful truth to face up to. I am a coward, a bully, and a man no one loves. I have nothing and no one to go back to. The only person who ever loved me was my mother, and even if she is still alive, she won’t be for much longer.”
“What’s your point?” Hugo asked, still annoyed, but also mildly curious. This wasn’t the overly confident, pompous man he’d met before who wore his superiority like a shield. This man appeared more human, more vulnerable; unless this was all an act designed to win Hugo’s trust before striking the fatal blow.
“My point is that I want my life to count for something,” Max explained patiently. “You are the better man, Hugo; you always had been. Maybe that’s why the woman I fancied myself in love with gave up everything to follow you to the past. She knew right away that you were the one who deserved her love, not I. She saw something in you that she knew I lacked— moral fiber, honor, strength of character; all the things women yearn for, but rarely find.”
“That’s very touching, Max, and I applaud your newly found humility, but I don’t see what you are getting at,” Hugo replied. He was thoroughly confused, but hated to admit it. Max was up to something, but damn if he knew what that was, and he hated the feeling of trying to maintain his equilibrium on shifting sand.
Max removed his cloak and shoved it at Hugo. “I want you to put this on and walk out. Go back to your family and keep them safe.”
“Are you mad?” Hugo was growing angry again, his patience growing thin. This was all a trick, the purpose of which he had yet to work out. Max was as cunning as ever.
“No, I am not. I think I am truly sane for the first time in my life. Hugo, go back to the twenty-first century. Take over my life. Be Lord Everly.”
Hugo stared at Max, whose eyes glowed with an inner light Hugo found difficult to reconcile with the old Max. He seemed to be overcome with fervor, like a martyr offering to die for his convictions. He’d spoken of God earlier. Perhaps he’d found the solace of religion, but that still didn’t explain this largesse.
“Even if I accepted, which I won’t, how could I get away with it?” Hugo asked, a tiny pinprick of hope growing somewhere in his soul. He could never take Max up on his offer, but there was something else he could do. An idea was taking root in his mind, the pinprick now growing bigger and brighter.
“People believe what they want to believe. If you say you are Maximillian Everly, people will believe you, even if, deep down, they have their doubts. There are only three people who can disprove the claim: my mother, my physician, and my dentist. I have never been fingerprinted, and the doctors are bound by laws of confidentiality. They cannot reveal any information unless subpoenaed by the courts. Only my mother would know for sure.”
“I am sorry, Max, but your mother is gone,” Hugo said softly. “We’ve had a visit from Simon a few months back.”
“You’ve met Simon? He knows about the passage?” Max gasped, his gaze suddenly more alert. Hugo could see a momentary flash of pain behind the eyes. Max had obviously cared for Simon, although Hugo wasn’t sure if he realized that the housekeeper’s brat he’d lorded it over was really his half-brother.
“It would seem so. He escaped from his own wedding.”
Max suddenly chuckled, his face alight with amusement. “That’s Simon all right. He went back, did he? Good, this is no place for him. Anyway, Hugo, this is your only chance. I am willingly giving it to you. Take it before I change my mind.”
“Max, you are offering to die in my place,” Hugo retorted. “I must admit that I am somewhat taken aback by your pangs of conscience at this late stage, but you don’t understand what you’re suggesting. This is not a game.”
“Don’t talk to me of games, Hugo. I am the one who’d been sent down to a sugar plantation. I still have marks on my back as a souvenir of the flogging I received, and I’d agreed to be buried alive and ingested puffer fish poison to facilitate my escape. I know this isn’t a game, but having gone through all that to save my life, once safe, I realized that my life is actually quite worthless. I’ve thought this through.”
“This is absurd. I won’t do it,” Hugo hissed as the muffled sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. The guard was coming back.
“Yes, you will. You will do it for Neve because she doesn’t deserve to be a widow. I have never known love like that, Hugo. If I had a woman who loved me as much as Neve loves you, I would do anything to stay alive. I would sacrifice anything, including a man who wronged you.”
“What is it you’re really after, Max?”
Max hung his head for a moment before answering, his breathing labored. “Redemption. I want redemption.”
Hugo opened his mouth to reply when they heard the jangle of keys outside the door. Their eyes met as Max pushed the cloak into Hugo’s hands. “Go.”
“I’ll be back in three days, Max. I need to see to my family and try to figure out what evidence the Crown has on me, but I will be back. You have my word. I’m not prepared to let you sacrifice your life for me.”
“That’s my decision to make,” Max replied as he sat down on the cot.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Just go.”
Hugo threw on the cloak, pulled the hood up over his head, and followed the guard out the door, his heart thumping painfully against his ribs. The corridors were illuminated by the faint light coming from several sconces, the flames of the torches flickering and casting eerie shadows onto the walls. This part of the Tower wasn’t beneath ground, but it felt like a tomb; the inmates buried alive, their chances of regaining freedom practically nonexistent. The next time most of them walked out of this prison would be to face their executioner. Some received a pardon, but Hugo wouldn’t be one of them — not this time.
His insides twisted with guilt, but he forced himself to walk on, his eyes glued to the stone floor until he was outside in the fresh April air, walking through the gates and out to freedom. Max’s horse was tethered outside, just as he said, but Hugo chose not to ride. He led the animal by the reins, needing some time to walk and come to terms with what had just occurred. He still doubted Max’s motives. Could a person truly have such a drastic change of heart?
Even if Max were repentant, Hugo couldn’t accept his sacrifice. What kind of man would that make him? He supposed many would, especially given their past history, but this just wasn’t right. To kill Max during an altercation would have been honorable; to simply condemn him to death wasn’t. But, Max had given Hugo a welcome reprieve, an opportunity to see to Neve and try to discredit the evidence against him. He would return in three days as promised, and set Max free, perhaps to return home to the twenty-first century. Hugo smiled bitterly as he imagined himself as Lord Everly in that distant future. How sweet it would be.
**
The streets were deserted and nearly pitch dark, the overhanging top floors of Tudor houses that stood shoulder to shoulder like a line of soldiers casting the streets of Blackfriars into deep shadow. Narrow alleyways gaped like open mouths, their dank breath stinking of refuse and rotten vegetables. Only the light of the moon lit Hugo’s way as he walked in the direction of the Strand. The night was still, but a slight tang of the Thames hovered in the air, bringing with it the smell of wet mud, which couldn’t overpower the scent of new grass and flowers that grew stronger as Hugo left Blackfriars behind. What was it about spring that made a man so acutely aware of his desire to live? Somehow, dying in the dead of winter never seemed as devastating as it did when the world was bursting with life, the cold and dark of winter replaced at last by sunlight and color.
Hugo hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door of Bra
d’s house. He could see a narrow chink of light glowing between the shutters on the ground floor. Someone was still awake, and he hoped it was Archie. He was desperate to see Neve, but talking the situation over with Archie would help him put things in perspective, and maybe come up with a feasible plan of action before facing his distraught wife. He needed to reassure her, not inform her that he would be going back to the Tower in three days’ time, and this might be their last goodbye.
Hugo took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door. He felt momentary relief when he heard Archie’s heavy footsteps, but the relief was quickly replaced by surprise as Neve, Frances, Brad, and Jem filed into the foyer, all talking over each other, their faces alight with joy at seeing him.
“Hugo,” Neve flew into his arms, her face tearstained and wan, but her eyes shining with happiness. “Did they let you go? Was it all a terrible mistake?” She looked so hopeful, so relieved, that Hugo’s throat tightened with regret.
“No, it wasn’t, love. I’ll explain later,” he mumbled, loathe to tell Neve that he was still under arrest and would have to go back. Hugo was spared further questions when Jem flew at him and wrapped his arms around his middle. “Jem, what are you doing here? Is your father with you? Did you come for the coronation?” Hugo’s heart swelled with joy at the sight of the boy. He’d missed him so much since his father took Jem to live with him. Jem wasn’t Hugo’s son, but he would always be his first child, the first person who truly needed him and gave him unconditional love. Losing Jem had been painful for them all, but most of all for Hugo since he’d had no choice in the matter. To insist on keeping Jem would be to deny him a future he deserved, but Nick Marsden, although a good friend and honorable man, could never love the boy as Hugo did.
Jem shook his head against Hugo’s chest, but made no reply. Hugo bent down and kissed the top of Jem’s head, the curls tickling his nose. Last time he held Jem his head reached just above Hugo’s waist. He was a child no longer. He was thirteen now, practically a man. Hugo held him at arm’s length studying his face. There was just a shadow of fuzz on his upper lip, and he’d grown at least a foot since they said goodbye in Paris. Jem’s voice was still that of a boy, but it wouldn’t be long before it changed, and all traces of the child were gone forever. “I’ll deal with you later,” Hugo said softly. “I’m happy to see you, Jemmy.”
Comes The Dawn (The Wonderland Series: Book 5) Page 1