“Seth doesn’t blame you.”
“How would you know?”
“I know because I spoke to him at length while you were in the hospital. He was ashamed, immensely relieved that you were going to be all right, and shocked to have learned that Brett was capable of such cruelty, but not for one second did he blame you or wish you hadn’t come into his life. He loves you, Quinn, and what he fears most is losing both his children.”
“Why must you always be so sensible?” Quinn asked, elbowing Gabe in the ribs. He’d put things into perspective for her, the way he always did, making her feel selfish and irrational for not calling Seth sooner.
“It’s a curse I must live with.”
“Don’t look so sheepish, Dr. Russell.”
“I’ve never actually seen a sheep looking shamefaced. Have you?” Gabe asked, making Quinn laugh when he tried to imitate a mortified-looking sheep.
“No, can’t say that I have. It is a silly expression, isn’t it? You know what else is a silly expression?”
“Tell me.”
“As nervous as a turkey on Thanksgiving. Seth said that once and it made me laugh.”
“Why did you think of it now?”
“Because that’s how I feel about calling him.”
“No matter how the conversation goes, your fate will never parallel that of a Thanksgiving turkey, despite the fact that you’re becoming as plump as one,” he quipped, rubbing her rounded belly affectionately. “Now, pick up that phone and call the poor man.”
Quinn reached for her mobile while Gabe heaved himself off the sofa.
“I’ll give you some privacy, shall I?”
“Thanks.”
Quinn selected Seth’s number from the contacts and pressed the call icon before she had a chance to change her mind. He picked up on the second ring.
“Quinn! How are you, sweetheart? I’m so glad you called.”
“Hi. Sorry it took me so long. How have you been?”
“I’ve been better,” Seth replied, with his usual American forthrightness.
“Is it Brett?” The last thing Quinn wanted to talk about was Brett, but she could hardly pretend that her brother didn’t exist. She was glad that Seth understood and didn’t go into detail.
“Brett’s doing as well as can be expected. It’s my mother. She passed away on the fourth of July.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t want to upset you. And it’s not as if you would have come for the funeral,” Seth replied. There was no reproach in his voice, just sadness and acceptance of the situation.
“No, but I would have liked to express my condolences. I know you two were close. How did it happen?”
Seth sighed. “Mom always loved the fourth of July. It was one of her favorite holidays. She said she liked it because it was all about food, fun, and family. There was no religious connotation or a marketing campaign to make it more than it was. It was a day to celebrate freedom, and that’s something everyone could get behind. I always had a big barbecue at my place on the fourth, with a DJ and a caterer, but this year I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for a party. I brought Mom over from the nursing home, and Kathy came over. We had some hot dogs and burgers and then went to watch the fireworks on the river. They usually have two barges that put on a dueling display. Mom loved that. It was her favorite part. The fireworks were spectacular this year. Truly amazing.” Seth exhaled loudly. “Sorry, I’m a bit emotional.”
“Take your time.”
“After the fireworks display, I drove Mom back to the home. She was lucid, Quinn. More lucid than she’d been in months. We talked for almost an hour, just like we had before the Alzheimer’s set in. She asked about you. She was sorry she never got a chance to get to know you better, or meet your baby. She asked to see your picture, and I showed her pictures of you and Gabe and Emma. She cried. She knew she’d never see you again.”
Quinn brushed away tears as she listened to Seth. She had known when she left New Orleans that she’d never see her grandmother again, but the knowledge that Rae was gone forever still hurt. She wished she could have spent more time with her.
“I saw her to her room and waited until the nurse helped her to bed. Then I left. They called me a few hours later. Mom died peacefully in her sleep.”
“I’m sorry, Seth. I wish I’d been there for you.”
“Me too. It would have been nice to have at least one of my children at the funeral. I was glad she never knew about Brett though. That would have killed her. She adored him, and always asked about him during her moments of lucidity. She asked about him that night, but I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth. I told her he was out with his friends, too grown up to hang out with his dad.”
“You did what you had to do,” Quinn interjected. She couldn’t fault Seth for lying to spare his mother’s feelings.
“I know, but it still felt wrong. She asked me which college he was going to and I lied through my teeth. The only true thing I told her that day was about how glad I was to have met you and how I hoped to be a part of your life, and the life of my grandchild.”
Quinn heard the longing in Seth’s voice. He missed her, and she suddenly realized she missed him too.
“Mom left something for you in her will.”
“Really? That was kind of her.”
“Yes, she added an addendum back in May. She penned it on one of her good days and asked the nurse to give it to me to pass on to her attorney. She left you her pearl set. You might not recall, but she wore it the night of the party. It’s a three-strand pearl-and-diamond necklace, a pearl-and-diamond brooch, and matching earrings. You might think it outdated, but she wanted you to have it.”
“I will wear it with pride,” Quinn replied, and meant it. Touching Rae’s jewelry would bring visions of her grandmother, but Quinn would welcome them. She never got to know Rae Besson in life, but she’d still get a chance to be close to her in death.
“I didn’t want to send the items by mail, in case the package got lost. I will bring them to you in person, as soon as you’re ready to see me. Are you?” Seth’s voice trembled with anxiety. He probably knew the odds of being rejected, but put himself out anyway, desperate to keep the connection between them from being severed forever.
“Yes,” Quinn replied. The word just slipped out, but she wasn’t sorry. She did want to see him. They’d got on well in New Orleans and had been on the way to establishing a lasting bond when Brett decided to do away with her. Now that she was actually speaking to her father, she felt the depth of his love for her and his boundless longing to see her. “Seth, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Yes?” Uncertainty laced his voice, as though he expected her to backtrack on what she’d just said.
“You’d better sit down.”
“I’m sitting already. Lay it on me, kid.”
“Sylvia gave birth to twins in 1983. You have another daughter.”
Seth sucked in his breath and held it for a moment before letting it out slowly. It came out shaky and loaded with emotion. “How long have you known?”
“I found out quite by accident, about two weeks ago. I know I should have rung you sooner, but I wanted to be sure.”
“And are you?” Seth’s voice was watery, as if he were crying.
“Yes, Sylvia admitted to it when I confronted her.”
“What do you know of your sister?”
“Not a whole lot, but I’ll tell you everything I’ve learned so far.” Quinn quickly related the details she knew about Quentin, without elaborating on her strained relationship with her adoptive family.
“Oh, Quinn, I’m overwhelmed. Another daughter. What a gift. After what happened…you know…with Brett, I felt forsaken, broken. I thought I’d lost you for good. But this news… It’s as if I’ve been restored to God’s grace. It’s as if he’s telling me that not all is lost.”
Quinn felt a stab of guilt. She’d been so selfish,
thinking only of her own needs and feelings. Seth had lost so much when he found out what Brett had done, and she’d nearly finished him off by effectively cutting him out of her life. “Seth, I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I was scared and hurt, and desperate to get away. I never meant to hurt you. You’ve been nothing but good to me. Do you think we can start over?”
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You’ve been through something awful, and it was partly my fault. I should have paid more attention, spent more time talking to Brett about his feelings. Maybe I could have prevented what happened, but I was oblivious, too excited to have found you to pay attention to my son and the hatred that was brewing inside him. Quinn, I want nothing more than to be your dad, in whatever capacity you’re comfortable with. And I can’t wait to meet Quentin. Will you keep me informed of what you discover?”
“Of course I will. And Seth, if you want to come visit, after the baby is born, I’d be very glad to see you.”
“Can I bring Kathy?”
“Of course. I’d love to see her again. She was so kind to me, to all of us.”
“Quinn, thank you for calling. You have no idea how happy you’ve made me. I love you, sweetheart.”
“I…”
“You don’t need to say it, not if you don’t feel it. The fact that you want to give me another chance is enough. I’ll speak to you soon, yeah?”
“Yes, I promise. I’ll ring you next week.”
“Deal. Goodnight, my girl. And give my regards to Gabe and Emma. I look forward to seeing them as well.”
“Goodnight.”
Quinn disconnected the call and set her mobile aside. Why had she been so reluctant to call Seth? It seemed silly now. She felt good after speaking to him, and loved, something she never felt from Sylvia. Seth was right; perhaps not all was lost. Sylvia wasn’t the mother Quinn had dreamed of, but she had an amazing brother in Logan and a father who genuinely cared for her. Perhaps, in time, her family would grow. She still held out hope for Jude, and her heart filled with longing at the thought of meeting Quentin. No, not all was lost.
Chapter 55
December 1464
Berwick-upon-Tweed, Northumberland
The bleak light of a winter dawn was just creeping in through the arrow-shaft window when Kate woke with a start. The fire had burned down during the night and the temperature in the room had plummeted. Her breath escaped from her mouth in gossamer clouds and she burrowed deeper beneath the covers and furs that were piled on the bed to keep her and Hugh warm during the night. Something had woken her, but for a moment, she wasn’t sure what it was since all was quiet and still.
Kate turned onto her side and was about to go back to sleep when she felt sticky wetness between her legs. She lifted the covers to discover she’d started her courses during the night and her nightdress as well as her side of the bed were soaked with blood.
“Oh, no,” she gasped, before she had a chance to stop herself.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Hugh demanded drowsily. Being a soldier, he was attuned to any sign of danger, and even a gasp from his wife was enough to bring him to wakefulness.
“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”
Hugh reached out to her beneath the blankets. When his hand came away covered with blood, he looked concerned for a second until the truth dawned on him and he cringed with disgust.
“I’ll clean it up,” Kate hastened to assure him.
“Useless bitch,” Hugh hissed as he glared at her, his gaze burning with hatred. “It doesn’t matter how many times I fuck you, you still won’t breed.”
“I’m s-sorry, Hugh,” Kate stammered. Her courses were about a week and a half late and she’d harbored some hope that she might be with child. She hadn’t said anything to Hugh, but he kept his own mental calendar, always acutely aware of when she was due to bleed. She’d been late several times over the past few years, but despite fervent praying and hoping, her courses always came in the end.
“You’re sorry?” Hugh spat out, his features contorted with rage and disappointment. “And what’s that worth?”
Kate knew he was upset, but she hadn’t anticipated the depth of his anger. Hugh’s eyes flashed with malice as he shoved her viciously, sending her flying out of bed and onto the stone floor. She tried to break her fall with her hand, but landed painfully on her left hip, crying out as the jolt of the impact reverberated through her wrist and up into her arm. The icy stone beneath her burned her skin, and she wept softly as she curled into a ball on the hard floor.
“Oh, for the love of Christ,” Hugh growled and swung his legs out of bed.
He stood over her for a moment, glaring down at her with undisguised hatred. Kate tried to edge away from him, fearful that he might kick her, but instead, he bent down and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her face closer to his own. “I’ve just about had it with you, you know that? From now on, I’ll fuck you from the back, like a dog, because that’s what you are—a useless, barren bitch. God put you on this earth for one reason and one reason only, to bear children, and you couldn’t even do that, could you? Oh, go ahead and cry, and then run to the chapel to pray. Much good it will do you.”
Hugh let go of her hair, grabbed his clothes and stormed from the bedchamber, still cursing her under his breath.
Kate began to tremble violently, her teeth chattering both from shock and the cold. She finally managed to scramble to her feet and hobble over to the ewer and basin on a low stand in the corner. The water was ice cold, but Kate cleaned herself as best she could and affixed the rags she used during her courses between her legs before getting dressed. She then stripped the sheet off the bed and assessed the damage. The blood had soaked into the mattress and would need to dry out before the mattress could be turned over to hide the ugly stain. That was the only way to salvage it and get a few more years of use from it.
Kate submerged the sheet in the basin and watched in despair as the water turned bright red. It’d need to soak for at least an hour before it could be washed out. She wiped her streaming eyes with the back of her hand and sat down by the hearth, clutching her shawl about her shoulders. The acrid smell of ashes stung her nose and she was numb with cold, but she didn’t budge. She couldn’t go to the chapel and pray, not today. Hugh had hit a nerve when he ridiculed her piety. She was tired of praying. She’d prayed for her brothers, and they’d died. She’d prayed for her mother, and she’d never recovered. She’d prayed to be reconciled with her father, but he’d cut her from his life and replaced her with new children. And she’d prayed to get pregnant so her husband would at least see some worth in her, but she’d never conceived. Her womb remained empty and hollow as her years of fertility slipped away. What was the sense of praying?
Christmas was a week away, a time of celebration and hope, but she only felt an all-encompassing dread. She’d never felt as alone as she had this past year, and the prospect of living out her life in this keep with her resentful husband and her distant sister-in-law left her desolate and depressed. She thought about Guy every day, and wondered where he was. They hadn’t had word from him in months, and Kate worried for his safety. Guy had sworn that he’d fully recovered the use of his right arm, but she knew the truth. His arm tired quickly and began to tremble with the strain of wielding a heavy sword. In a prolonged battle, he’d be at a disadvantage, especially if confronted with a skilled and tireless opponent.
In his last letter, Guy had mentioned that he was quartered at Westminster Palace as part of Warwick’s personal guard. Kate supposed it was kind of the Earl of Stanwyck to provide Guy with an opportunity to serve Warwick, but she wished he’d ordered him back home instead. Hugh missed Guy dreadfully, and took out his frustration and guilt at driving his brother away on Kate. He barely spoke to her these days and chose to spend the long evenings in conversation with Eleanor or playing chess with Adam, who took gleeful pride in beating Hugh nearly half the time. Hugh smiled indulgently and told Adam that he’d allowed him t
o win, but they both knew the truth and enjoyed the battle of wits.
Sadly, Adam would be leaving them in a few months, going to Stanwyck Hall to begin his term as page to the earl, and their family would shrink once more, leaving just the three of them in residence, a prospect Kate didn’t relish.
Eleanor had become openly coy and affectionate with Hugh. She touched him lightly on the arm, or sat closer than necessary, claiming she was cold and needed to be closer to the fire. Her obvious loneliness was her excuse for blatant flirting. Hugh, in turn, was chivalrous and solicitous, treating Eleanor with the kind of respect he no longer bestowed on his wife. The two of them made Kate feel humiliated and ostracized, and whether their conduct was intentional or simply the result of their forced closeness, Kate often wished she could just disappear and leave them to it. There had been a time when death seemed like a terrifying and cruel punishment, if it came too early, but lately, in Kate’s mind, it had taken on the qualities of a kind stranger who might take her away to a place where she’d no longer be unhappy or unwanted. She’d slip out of her skin and escape the hollow shell she had become—an abused wife, an unloved daughter, and an unfulfilled woman who had never become a mother, and be reborn in a place that promised eternal salvation and the everlasting love of God. Perhaps God would take her soon, if she were lucky.
Kate finally forced herself to stir. It was fully light outside and high time she started on the day’s chores. With Aileen gone and Joan getting on in years, there was more for her to do, and Eleanor never bothered to lend a hand with cooking, baking, or laundry. Kate’s wrist hurt and had begun to swell and her hip throbbed where she’d landed on it, but she ignored the pain. She washed out the sheet, then limped down the stairs and toward the kitchen where she could hang it by the fire to dry.
Joan stopped kneading the dough when Kate walked in, her eyebrows lifting in surprise and her lips pursing. Kate realized she must have red-rimmed eyes and a pink nose from crying. She pretended not to notice Joan’s questioning stare and smiled politely in greeting. She didn’t need Joan’s pity. She just wanted to get on with her day as if nothing had happened.
The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past Book 4) Page 30