Salvation

by Smith, Carla Susan

  “Lettie!” Catherine’s cry cut across the room.

  Rian moved forward, catching the small woman in his arms as she stumbled, dropping the pistol from slack fingers. She did not faint, but her entire body trembled violently and it was a few moments before Rian could determine that shock was the culprit, and she was not suffering a seizure. Carefully he seated her in the chair he had recently occupied before turning and selfishly pulling his wife into his arms.

  Sobbing tears of relief, Catherine held up her face, and he smothered it with kisses. Wrapping his arms about her naked body, Ryan buried his face in her neck, his own silent tears of gratitude wetting her skin. All he could do was hold her to him, press her close and feel her heartbeat against his own.

  “I thought he would kill you!” Catherine said as she clutched his shirt in her hands. “I’m sorry…I’m so, so s-s-sorry.”

  “Whatever for? You did nothing wrong.”

  “I l-l-lost my d-d-diamond necklace, Rian, the one you g-g-gave me!” Catherine hiccupped, her eyes huge and swimming with tears. “And my h-h-hair, he cut my hair!”

  Afraid that if he let her go, she might be taken from him again, Rian continued to hold her. He murmured soothingly in her ear while his hands moved gently up and down her bare back, and Catherine shuddered silent sobs against him.

  He had come, as she had known he would. He had come.

  “Here, missus.”

  Grace’s quiet voice prompted Rian to release his wife long enough for her to take the robe the child held out to her. It was a much more modest garment than the last one Catherine had been forced to wear, and she slipped into it gratefully. Rian’s face flushed slightly at the realization that even under such horrible circumstances, the sight of his wife’s naked body was arousing a familiar stirring in him. With his forefinger he lifted her chin so he could look at her. She had stopped crying but her cheeks were still wet and her eyes redrimmed and glistening. Rian put one arm around her shoulders, and the fingers of his other hand moved back and forth gently across her lips.

  “Your diamond will find its way back to you again, I promise,” he told her solemnly. “You are not the first to have lost it and yet, somehow, it always comes home. In the meantime you still have this.” His fingers left her lips, he reached into his pocket, and took out the ring that John Fletcher had given him earlier. He slipped it on the third finger of her left hand. “As for your hair”—he paused, and gently ran his hand over her shorn skull—“it will grow back.”

  Lettie’s sudden coughing fit made them all jump, and Rian felt a spasm of guilt. In truth he had forgotten she was there, but he looked at her, almost lost in the huge chair.

  “Is he dead?” Lettie asked, unable to bring herself to look at the still figure on the floor.

  Rian glanced at Phillip’s body. “I would imagine so, but we need to be certain.” Placing his hands on Catherine’s shoulders, he guided her toward the other woman. They sat together, the seat wide enough to accommodate both of them easily. Catherine wrapped an arm around Lettie’s shoulders while holding onto Grace with the other.

  Rian rolled Phillip over, seeing the large black hole in the middle of his back. It really was quite amazing that Lettie’s aim had been so true. “He’s quite dead,” he told the two women somberly, as he pulled a cover from the bed and draped it over Phillip’s body.

  “God forgive me, but I’m not sorry,” Lettie told him in a voice that ached with weariness. “He was a monster.” She took Catherine’s hands and gently stroked her cheek as fresh tears spilled. “I am sorry for you though, for what you had to endure. I am so sorry that I was not brave enough to come to you sooner, to help sooner.”

  Catherine hugged her and pulled her in close, gently stroking her hair. “It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered reassuringly. “He was quite mad.” She stared into Lettie’s face. “You do know that, don’t you?” A shuddering nod was her answer.

  “Come,” Rian said, offering his hand to his wife. “We need to leave.”

  Like a shepherd with his flock, Rian ushered the three females out of the room, but at the doorway Catherine stopped and turned back to gaze at the room, as if wanting to commit it to memory.

  “What is it, darling?”

  “I want to be certain…”

  “Of what?”

  “That this will never hurt me again, not in my dreams, not anywhere,” she told him as she finished taking in every detail, especially the dead body on the floor. It was just a room, she told herself. Four walls covered with silk that had no power over her. Not anymore.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Lettie gave Rian directions to the stables, where he would find a carriage and horses. As reluctant as he was to have Catherine out of his sight for even a minute, this was the only way to get them all to safety. He would have taken them all with him, but coming downstairs had drained the last reserves of Lettie’s energy. He returned in less than fifteen minutes, driving the coach and pair himself. His relief at seeing Catherine open the front door was palpable.

  Lettie pressed Grace’s hand into Catherine’s. “Get her settled. I’ll just be a moment.”

  Alarmed, Catherine reached for the smaller woman’s other hand. “Where are you going?”

  “The drawing room,” Lettie said, her hand reaching up to cradle Catherine’s cheek. “I want my music box. It’s all I have left from my father. I’ll be but a moment, I promise you.”

  “A moment, no longer.” Catherine nodded as she took Grace down the wide steps to where Rian was now waiting with the carriage. He took Grace from her, settling the child upon the padded seat, but the frown creasing his brow as he looked over Catherine’s head made her turn around in time to see the front door closing.

  “No!” she screamed, picking up the hem of her robe and running back up the steps. Pounding her fists against the heavy door, she heard the unmistakable sound of bolts being slid home on the other side. “Lettie! Lettie! What are you doing? Come out of there!”

  Lettie’s voice was eerily calm, and reached her clearly. “Catherine, it is the only way I can expect to be forgiven. Promise to take care of Grace for me. You’re a good person. Give her the life she deserves.”

  Catherine redoubled her efforts, as if striking the door with her fists would change Lettie’s mind and stop whatever course of action she was intent on. Coming up behind her, Rian seized hold of her hands. Her knuckles, already bruised, were now skinned and bleeding. Wrapping his arms about her, he pulled her away.

  “Rian, stop her!” she implored, clutching his arm frantically and blinking back tears.

  A quick assessment of the door told him there was no way it could be forced open from the outside. “Stay with the child,” he ordered, pushing Catherine toward the carriage. “I will see if the back entrance is still open.”

  Grace’s high scream wheeled Catherine about, and she followed the thin arm that stretched out the open carriage door toward the house. Both of them watched in horror as Lettie deliberately put a candle to the curtains, setting them ablaze. She must have known they were watching her because she raised her hand to her mouth, and blew a kiss to them before moving to the adjacent window and continuing with her task.

  The rooms on either side of the front door glowed with unnatural light as flames licked hungrily up the draperies, consuming all in their path. From the swift passage of the fire, Catherine had to wonder if Lettie had used something to accelerate it. Phillip’s brandy possibly? The fire took on a life of its own, spreading quickly through the lower level of the house, and Rian came stumbling back from the dark alley, his face dirty and his chest heaving.

  “It’s no use!” he gasped as he reached Catherine’s side. “The door is bolted, and all the windows shuttered. I cannot get inside.” Alarmed by the smell of the smoke, the horses whinnied and stamped their hooves. Rian took charge of the situation. “Get in!” he ordered
as he pulled Catherine toward the carriage.

  “No. I cannot leave her!”

  Framing her face with his hands, he forced her to look at him and ignore the house. “She has decided her own fate, Catherine, and we must leave. Do not let her sacrifice be a meaningless one.”

  She hesitated a fraction longer, and then nodded, allowing Rian to bundle her inside. He would accept no further protest. She was too precious to him. Jumping onto the driver’s seat, he picked up the reins and urged the anxious horses forward.

  Chapter 28

  Oakhaven welcomed them back once more, and they allowed the soothing balm of the house and land to work its magic, restoring them as only it could. Of course, not everything would be the same. Not everything could be forgiven or let go. Lives had been changed. Lives had been lost.

  In the small cemetery behind the family chapel, a place was made for Lettie to lie in peace. Her charred body had been found in the smoking ruins of the house and Rian had claimed her as next of kin. Catherine, overwhelmed by the gesture, had thanked him with tears in her eyes. He had not done the same with Phillip nor, for some strange reason, had either of them been asked to do so.

  A smaller headstone had been placed alongside Lettie’s, and into the marble had been carved only the year and the words Our First Love in memory of the babe lost to Liam and Felicity.

  “She would like that,” Felicity told them.

  “She?” Liam looked at his wife and gazed in awe at the serene expression in her eyes. “You knew it was a girl?”

  Felicity smiled. “Only in my heart, dearest, only in my heart.”

  Reaching for his wife’s hand, Liam tried to speak, but the sudden lump in his throat prevented any words from forming. He pinched the bridge of his nose with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand, willing the tears not to fall. Saying nothing, Felicity simply slid her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, holding onto her husband and comforting him in his moment of grief.

  The road back to recovery is never a smooth journey, especially not if traveled alone. Liam, heeding both the advice of his brother and Dr. MacGregor, spent as much time with his wife as she would allow. They took morning rides together and long afternoon walks and, at other times, when the weather permitted, they could be found sitting quietly in the garden where Liam read aloud and Felicity, fingertips blackened from charcoal, sketched her grand designs for the restoration of the gardens in a large notebook.

  Both of them welcomed the opportunity to immerse themselves in each other’s interests. Liam made a point of taking Felicity with him when he had to attend to estate business. He found her keen mind and sharp observations to be invaluable. Every tenant they met expressed sorrow for their loss. This, more than anything, touched both of them in a way neither would have expected. The loss of a child was grieved by all.

  The path for Rian was a little darker. On the surface, both he and Catherine seemed to be mending well. They also took walks together, went riding and even squabbled good-naturedly as they played cards, each accusing the other of cheating. But since returning to Oakhaven, Catherine had resumed sleeping in his mother’s room. Alone.

  She had quietly asked to be given the time to recover in her own way from the horrors of that night. Hiding his hurt, Rian had acquiesced and made no demands. He found himself overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness he had never experienced before. Unable to sleep alone in the bed Catherine had once shared with him, he took to sleeping in the library or the den.

  “Patience, Master Rian, patience,” Mrs. Hatch advised, after finding him sitting on the floor in the middle of the night, staring at Catherine’s closed bedroom door. He had said nothing, but looked at the housekeeper with a face that could not hide the loneliness consuming him.

  Before leaving the city, Dr. MacGregor had examined Catherine. He assured Rian that she had not suffered any irreparable physical harm, but he could not speak as confidently about her mental state. He shared with Rian his belief that Catherine was holding something back. Before, she had no memory of what had taken place, only the brutal evidence left on her body. But now she knew every sickening detail. Shaking his head and keeping his voice low and his manner mournful, Dr. MacGregor had been blunt. The strain of carrying such a burden would eventually take its toll, and Catherine was walking a razor’s edge. It was anyone’s guess which way she would fall, but fall she would.

  Rian knew his wife well enough to sense that something about her, something deep down, was wrong, but he was handicapped by the strength of his own feelings, and he did not want to do anything that would cause her to lose faith in him. Of course he did not expect her to come through this most recent nightmare with Phillip unscathed. He understood the guilt she felt about Lettie’s suicide, and he knew it would be a long time before she felt comfortable enough to share her feelings on either matter. He could accept that, but what he could not accept was the way she had completely cut herself off from him emotionally.

  He was at a loss to know how to reach her. How could he make her see that the burden Phillip had placed on her was not hers alone to bear, but his to share also. Stealing from Mrs. Hatch’s remedy book, Dr. MacGregor had advised patience, and Rian had given him a wry smile. They had been down this road before. He promised to give Catherine as much time as she needed. And so they embarked on a perilous journey that threatened, with one misplaced sigh, one misread glance, one misdirected inflection, to pull them apart.

  * * * *

  They had been back a little over a month before Catherine broached the subject that Rian and Liam both seemed determined to avoid. It had become customary for them all to retire to the library after dinner to play cards. Liam cheated terribly, which made them laugh as he was so bad at disguising his efforts. They had just finished a hand of whist when Catherine asked, “What has become of Isabel?”

  The silence that followed was like a whip crack echoing around the room. Since their return, they had spoken openly of John Fletcher, examining his role in both Catherine’s abduction as well as her rescue, but no one had mentioned Isabel’s complicity. Her involvement had simply been ignored. Both men hoped their wives would be content to let the matter lie, but now it seemed that was not going to happen. Liam gave Rian a worried glance that did not go unnoticed by Catherine. He reached for his wife’s hand, but Felicity gently removed it from his grasp. Propping her elbow on the table instead, she cupped her chin in her palm, and stared at her brother-in-law.

  “Yes, Rian, what has become of Isabel?” she asked in a tone that was neither accusing nor condemning, only curious.

  “What have you heard?” he asked nonchalantly, shuffling the cards and refusing to look up.

  He had told his brother that this moment would come; if given a choice, each would have preferred the moment to have been put off a little longer. But the subject was out in the open now, and having been raised by Catherine and then seconded by Felicity, both men knew they were not going to be able to do anything but be direct and, above all, truthful.

  “She seems to have disappeared from what Mama has told me,” Felicity said, picking up her cards and sorting her hand. “No one can confirm it, but there is a rumor that she has gone to her estate in Ireland. Her house has been closed up for the rest of the season, and she has dismissed all but a handful of servants, giving a full year’s severance to those she has let go.” Felicity paused, watching as both men diligently sorted their cards. “The odd thing is that she did not mention her plans to a single one of her friends. Mama tells me Charlotte Maitling is quite peeved.”

  “A year’s pay seems very generous. A little too generous for Isabel, don’t you think?” Catherine asked Rian.

  “Perhaps,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug.

  “Did you know she had an estate in Ireland?” Catherine fixed him with a stare.

  He sighed and laid his cards on the table. There was no point in tr
ying to play the hand until this discussion was over. “Yes, I knew.”

  “Do you know anything about her reasons for leaving so suddenly?” His wife was not going to be dissuaded.

  “I would have thought that was obvious,” he said quietly.

  “Perhaps, perhaps not.” Catherine sounded doubtful.

  Rian stared at her. “What is it that you are really trying to ask me, Catherine?”

  It was Felicity who answered. “Whether there is any truth to the rumors.”

  “What rumors?”

  Felicity turned and fixed Liam with a stare of her own, “That Isabel’s hasty departure came as a direct result of a visit she received from my husband.”

  Rian gave a start. Liam had visited Isabel? Why had he not known about this? Had he also discovered her secret? Surely not, because Liam would have told him, wouldn’t he?

  Not if he thought you didn’t know.

  “Cooks and grooms,” Rian muttered under his breath quietly, but still loud enough for Catherine to hear him. She gave him a quizzical look, but he only shook his head.

  With a sigh, Liam decided it was time to come clean and confess his part in Isabel’s departure. He gave his brother an apologetic look.

  “After Rian left with John Fletcher, I decided to pay Isabel a visit to make sure that she fully understood why she needed to leave. I wanted to be absolutely certain that she understood the consequences if she failed to do as we demanded. It was not going to be possible for her to return to town, hoping a change of scenery, or missing a season was all that would be necessary to safeguard her health.”

  “What was wrong with her health?” Catherine asked.

  “At that time, nothing as far as I know.”

  Rian felt a small sigh of relief escape him. Liam’s answer said he was ignorant regarding Isabel’s pregnancy.

  “At that time?” Felicity drummed her fingers lightly on the surface of the card table. “What was going to happen to her health if she did not agree to your decision? What exactly did you say to her, Liam?”