The Forgotten Marquess

by Jane Charles

  She kicked off her slippers, then rolled down her stockings just as the tide came in, knocking her to the ground and taking her partially into the ocean.

  A flash of a memory of being drug down in the water, sinking, and unable to scream flashed in her mind. The arm about her waist, dragging her to the surface, gasping for breath.

  Brendan, rescuing her from the sinking ship. That must be the memory. Or, was it of her childhood when she’d fallen into the lake?

  It didn’t matter.

  The storm was coming in quicker than she expected, and Elaina tried to pull herself from the water. It was madness to be out here. To think that she could swim to Alderney. Was she truly Bedlam bound?

  Struggling to regain her footing, another wave took her, the heavy weight of her skirts pulled her back into the water as the ship flashed in her mind. Sailors screaming over the wind, people rushing to lifeboats.

  Elain blinked. I didn’t make it onto a lifeboat. The waves took me. But these waves would not. She crawled and pulled herself further on to the sand, but the current was too strong, as more and more waves pummeled the beach, her body, dragging her back. She grasped a stone protruding from the sand and held on. She’d escaped drowning twice and would escape it again.

  “Elaina!” Tristan called, but it was Harrison she heard.

  He wanted something of her. To get into a boat, but she couldn’t. Why?

  Elaina looked down, the ocean was up to her neck, dragging her, but in her mind, she saw a boat. A rowboat of sorts, inside was a maid and a nursery maid, both clinging to small children.

  “Elaina!”

  Children? No. There were no children on the ship.

  The little boy looked up. He was no more than two or three. The maid held tight to him, but his arms reached for her. “Mama,” he’d cried.

  “I’m coming. I’m coming,” Elaina called back.

  “Elaina!”

  She turned. Harrison was pointing over the side of the ship. He wanted her in a boat. The large mast cracked, and sailors scattered. She turned back. She had to get to the boat. She had to get to her children. Just as she turned, a wave slammed into the side of the ship, against the lifeboat, overtaking it, burying everyone within under water.

  “No!” she’d screamed over and over, but it was gone. They were gone. As much as she searched, the boat that held her children never emerged. Sank.

  Elaina clung to the railing screaming over and over. Waiting for them to surface. Looking for them in the waves, begging God to return them to her. To keep them safe.

  But no matter how long she searched, they never appeared again, lost to the sea. Lost to her.

  Her knees buckled with grief and Elaina couldn’t control the anguished cries that ripped from her body. This was all her fault. She was the one who had to go to France. Tristan hadn’t wanted her to go. They’d argued. He had a feeling of foreboding, and now their children were gone. Taken. Taken from her. Taken from him. Taken from them and she’d never, never be able to forgive herself. It would be best and serve her right if the oceans would take her too. Swallow her whole because she’d never be able to live with herself. Not after this. Not after causing her children’s deaths. She couldn’t face Tristan again. His children were gone, and he’d never forgive her.

  “Please God, just take me. Take me now.” And in a blink, the waves came over the ship and Elaina was carried over the side, into nothingness. She didn’t even panic. It’s what she deserved for what she’d done. She had taken her children from their father. She’d caused their deaths. She didn’t deserve to live. She didn’t want to live. Not without her children. Tristan would be better without her.

  Is that why he wanted her to see the portrait so badly. Had he been waiting to punish her?

  She deserved to be punished. But more important, she didn’t deserve to live and with those thoughts, she let go of the stone keeping her anchored to shore and let the waves take her. She should have drowned three years ago and hadn’t, but she would tonight.

  Chapter 32

  Tristan gained the beach just as the waves took Elaina out to sea.

  “No!” he screamed and ran forward. “You cannot have her. You will not take her from me again,” he yelled at the storm. Or maybe he was yelling at God. It didn’t matter.

  He rushed forward, into the waves, fighting the pull of the current and reached for his wife.

  She wasn’t even trying to fight the waves but was letting them take her.

  “Elaina!” he cried. “Help me. Swim back. I know you can.”

  Instead, she glanced at him, her eyes so lost and full of pain that it tore at his heart, which urged him to swim for her, fighting the current, until he got ahold of her. Grasping at her skirt, he drew her close, but she fought him, pounding against his chest. “Let me go. Let me die.”

  Die? Why did she want to die? “Elaina, stop.”

  Instead she went limp and dissolved into a fit of sobs as he struggled to bring her to safety, swimming along the shoreline as it took him closer and closer to the beach until he could finally regain his footing and stand. Cradling Elaina in his arms, he walked far enough in to avoid the waves and dropped to his knees and tried to catch his breath.

  “Why didn’t you let me die? Do you hate me so much?” She rolled away from him, curled into a ball and sobbed.

  Thunder boomed and lightening flashed. It wasn’t safe to be on the beach. The storm wasn’t even near land yet, but when it arrived, this was the last place either one of them should be.

  Standing, Tristan scooped his wife up in his arms and headed for the path to the top of the cliffs, then hurried to the back of the manor and entering through the kitchens once more. “Bring blankets and build up the fire in the back parlor,” he barked. “And bring brandy.”

  He had no idea why Elaina wished to die or why she believed he hated her but he couldn’t take her back to the library because her anxiety had mounted being in that room, nor could he take her to her chamber because that was where she’d run from. The yellow sitting room, at the back of the house that led to a small garden, had been her favorite room and perhaps, she would find calm within.

  As the footmen built of up the fire and another poured brandy, maids delivered blankets.

  Elaina had stopped crying but now lay listless in his arms, as if she’d given up all hope, all life.

  What had she remembered that brought her to this?

  “A new shift for my wife, please,” he requested. Elaina could not remain in her wet clothing or she would catch her death. Tristan had just gotten her back and he wasn’t going to let her leave him again.

  “Tristan, what happened?” Xavier asked as he appeared at the door.

  “Go.” He didn’t want to tell Elaina’s brother that she tried to kill herself. Or at least wanted to die. Not after what he’d just learned of their parents.

  Instead of leaving, he hovered, as if he still wished to step in and take care of her.

  “Tristan will take care of her,” Garretson pulled Xavier away. A moment later a maid entered with the requested shift.

  “Leave us, and close the door,” he ordered.

  “I’m going to get you out of these wet things,” he said, standing her, instead Elaina sank to her knees, staring into the fire.

  Tristan let her be and then attempted to remove her dress, which was quite impossible without her assistance. In the end, he ripped it from her body. The back, the front, the arms, the skirt, then did the same with her shift before pulling the fresh one over her then wrapping her in a blanket. The entire time, she simply sat, as if she wasn’t even aware of what was happening and stared into the flames.

  Good God, had he lost her? Had she retreated into the darkness of her own mind? Could he reach her?

  Tristan pulled his jacket, suitcoat and shirt from his body, then pulled off his boots and then trousers. He had nothing else to wear and wrapped a blanket about his middle to shield his wife and protect her modesty when he’d n
ot had the same consideration for her, then retrieved the two brandies. Settling beside Elaina, he pressed one into her hand.

  At least she grasped it but did not drink.

  Perhaps Xavier would know better how to reach Elaina, but she was Tristan’s wife and whatever was happening had everything to do with him.

  After taking a drink, he set the glass aside and pulled her into his arms and kissed her temple. “Elaina. I love you and there is nothing in this world that you could ever do to cause me to hate you.”

  She shuddered and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Even after the horrible things that I’ve done.”

  “What is so horrible that can’t be forgiven?” No matter how much he tried, Tristan could think of nothing that she’d ever done that she’d react this way.

  “Your children,” she whispered. “Our children. It’s my fault they are gone.” Her voice was so hollow, as if she were leaving him, or was already dead inside.

  “Gone?”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed, another tear streaming down her cheek. “You didn’t want me to go. You forbade me to sail to France. I did anyway. I defied you and now our children are gone. It’s my fault and all I want to do is die.”

  Tristan stared at her, unable to make sense of what she was saying. “We fought, yes, but we often do, did.”

  “I’m not talking about the fight. How can you ever forgive me?” She turned. “How can you not hate me?”

  “For what?” She was making no sense.

  “It’s my fault that our children are dead. Is that what you want me to say?”

  Her fault they are dead…then he realized. “Elaina, our children are very much alive.”

  “No. They aren’t’” She pushed against him and got up. “I remember everything now. The ship. The storm, their lifeboat being swallowed by waves. My screaming for them, but they’d disappeared. When the wave took me, I just wanted to sink to the bottom of the ocean. I just wanted to die. Like now. I just want to die.” Her sobs broke. “I killed them. In my selfishness to see my grandmother, and anger at you, I killed our children.” She doubled over, sobbing, pain and anguish racking her body.

  Tristan wrapped Elaina in his arms. “Hush, darlin. They survived. I swear, I promise on all that is holy, our children returned to me. You are the only one who didn’t, until now.”

  “Don’t lie. Please, I beg of you. I saw them disappear. I remember now. I remember it all.”

  He couldn’t leave her side, not in this state, but Elaina wouldn’t believe him until she saw for herself. “Xavier!” he called, knowing the man waited just outside.

  The door burst open. “What?” His concerned eyes stared at Elaina curled up and sobbing, Tristan holding her. “Bring me our children.”

  Xavier pulled back. “I don’t think that is wise.” He gestured to Elaina. “In her state…”

  “Dammit. Bring them. Now!”

  Xavier backed out of the room, but Tristan heard other footfalls running up the steps and assumed they were from Garretson since Xavier was moving at a much slower pace.

  “Trust me Elaina. In a moment I will have the proof that you need. You did not kill our children.”

  He glanced up at Xavier who stood in the doorway and watched as he realized the reason for Elaina’s true state of distress.

  It was as if she didn’t hear him, or chose not to believe him, because she remained in her curled state, clutching to her knees, nearly rolled in a ball, her mourning so deep.

  A moment later, he heard the heavy footsteps return and Garretson appeared in the doorway, a child in each arm. Tristan rose to take his children from his brother-in-law and then closed the door on Elaina’s intrusive family once again.

  “Elaina, look at me.”

  She didn’t.

  “Elaina. Please. Look up.”

  “Who is that, Papa?” Jonas asked.

  Elaina stilled.

  “Yes, who Papa?” Eloise asked. “Why she crying? Did she fall down?”

  Elaina slowly moved and looked up. First to Jonas and then Eloise.

  “It can’t be,” she whispered

  “It is,” he assured her.

  She sat further up, not trusting what was before her, studying one then the other, then back again.

  “Children, please introduce yourselves.”

  “Lord Jonas Trent.” His son bowed. “Lady Eloise Trent.” His daughter curtseyed.

  Elaina put a hand against her mouth as new tears spilled from her eyes.

  “Elaina, they survived the ship, the storm. They were waterlogged, but your maid and the nursery maid kept them safe and returned them to me.”

  “How? I saw them disappear.”

  “It was a storm. It was night. I’m surprised that you would have been able to see anything. Harrison said that he almost missed them when he found himself in the water. He looked for you, but couldn’t find you, then came for our children, to keep them safe.”

  “Papa?” his son asked.

  “Yes, Jonas.”

  “Is she the same lady in the portrait with us?”

  “Yes. She is.”

  His blue eyes widened. “Our mother!”

  Such astonishment in his young voice made Tristan smile. Better, however, was that Elaina smiled, then held out her hand to him.

  He took it and then Eloise did the same, which wasn’t a surprise since Eloise always did as her brother. Tristan knew that in time that would change, but for now, he was happy that she looked up to Jonas and he watched out for her. And, now that Elaina had returned to them, they could once again be a family. A whole family with no missing members.

  “Papa told us all about you,” Jonas said with a frown. “You were lost.” He resembled Tristan in his features but had Elaina’s coloring of blonde hair and green eyes.

  Not dead? “I was.”

  “You’re not lost anymore?” Eloise questioned. Such a sweet cherub with big brown eyes, and dark curly hair, inherited from her father.

  “No, Darling, I’m not.”

  Was she really looking at her children? They had survived? How was it possible? She’d seen the ocean swallow them whole.

  The panic renewed.

  “Breathe, Elaina, they are safe, and so are you.”

  Tristan’s soothing voice calmed her.

  “Do they remember…”

  “They have no recollection of the ship, but I’ve told them,” he said quietly. “They know that you were lost with the ship.”

  In their minds, she was missing, not dead.

  “I’ve missed so much.” Her tears renewed. Three years of their lives.

  The ache was deep because those were memories she’d never have because she hadn’t been here, but it wasn’t nearly as crippling as the thought of them being gone, or believing she’d been responsible for their deaths.

  “Yes, and for that I am sorry,” Tristan said. “But you won’t miss another moment. I promise.”

  He couldn’t give her back what was lost any more than she could turn back time to keep from making the fateful decision to sail.

  But, she was here now and her children stood before her and she longed to hold them. Except, she was a stranger to them. It wasn’t possible that they held any memory of her. They’d been too young. Still, Elaina held out her arms, hoping they’d come to her, but if they didn’t, she couldn’t blame them. It would take time…

  Eloise stepped first, nearly jumping at Elaina, her pudgy arms about her neck. Jonas then joined her sister. “We are happy you aren’t lost any longer, Mother.”

  Their small bodies pressed against hers, clinging and hugging, and renewed Elaina’s tears. She was home. Finally, truly home. Her heart burst, as if suddenly filled again, and the emptiness that had stayed with her since she first awoke in Alderney subsided now that her arms were filled.

  This is what had been missing. This is what she had needed.

  At the scratch on the door, Tristan rose to answer it.

  “Supper is
about to be served, Lord Hopkins. Will you and Lady Hopkins be joining your family and guests?” the butler asked.

  Elaina looked to Tristan. She didn’t want to move from this very spot or relinquish her children.

  “My wife and children will dine in the privacy of our chambers.”

  The butler nodded, then retreated.

  “We get to dine with you?” Jonas asked with excitement.

  Tristan chuckled. “It is a special occasion, but don’t expect it to happen too often.” He ruffled his son’s hair.

  Love filled her entire being. Not only for her children, but for Tristan as well. And not because of what she’d read in her journals, but because she was starting to remember him.

  The only disquiet that remained was his betrayal. He’d lied to her. They’d spoke of children but not once had he mentioned they had two. In fact, he led her to believe they were childless, or hadn’t corrected her when she claimed that to be the case. Not only hadn’t Tristan corrected her, but neither had her brothers.

  It was unconscionable. Weeks wasted when she could have been home, with them.

  Hadn’t he trusted her? Hadn’t her brothers?

  Only a few memories had returned, but she was certain that they all would in time, just as they had at Wyndhill Park, but until she recalled everything of their marriage, Elaina wasn’t going to be so quick to become his wife again. At least not in the manner she’d been before she sailed to France.

  “Come on.” Eloise jumped from Elaina’s lap. “I’ll show you the way and Papa, you should get dressed.”

  Elaina chuckled. Tristan did look a little ridiculous sitting there without a shirt and only a blanket covering him from the waist down.

  “I’ll do that right away, as it’s not proper to dine in a blanket.” He teased his daughter.

  Eloise and Jonas each took a hand and led her upstairs, but instead of going to her chamber door, the one she’d stopped at before, they continued to the next, which opened into a sitting room.

  “Your chamber is there.” Eloise pointed to the left. “And Papa’s is there.” She pointed to a door on the right. “This is where we sit.”