Love Me Always

by Marie Higgins

  On the corner of her vanity, a letter caught her eyes. Grant’s solicitor had given this to her last night. Mr. Lewis said Grant had written it. Dare she open it to see what he wanted to tell her after his death?

  Her mind had been deviated once Mr. Lewis had started asking her questions about the murders...and her whereabouts during those times. She couldn’t help him much. She didn’t remember.

  Pain had sliced through her head as she tried to recall where she’d been those times. The more questions he’d asked, the more his tone had turned harsh.

  Her throat tightened with emotion, and she willed the tears not to come, but her eyes watered nonetheless. By the way he’d talked, her future had seemed bleak. She didn’t think he believed her either. Thankfully, the police could find no solid proof, and so they wouldn’t take her to jail, especially when her father promised she’d be in his constant care.

  She had remembered a little about the night her father had been attacked. She’d gone to his room to confess her wrongdoings in hopes he’d let her stay so she and Nick could marry, but didn’t find him. The next thing she recalled was awaking in her bed, dressed and dizzy with bewilderment. Yet, bits and pieces from her memory let her believe she had argued with him at some point.

  A throb began in her temple and she rubbed the growing pain. Her gaze fell to Grant’s letter again. No better time than now. Her father – and the guard – would be here any moment to escort her to the carriage that would take her home.

  Taking great care, she broke the seal.

  “My dearest Catherine. The days until I leave this world are numbered, and I feel I need to be truthful with you before I die. I haven’t been fully honest about anything. I brought you to the estate under a false pretense. Although I led you to believe I wanted to marry you, I had no plans of doing that. Instead, I brought you here hoping you and Nick would fall in love.”

  She hitched a breath and placed her hand to her hammering heartbeat.

  “You already know how much I loved your mother. When I was younger, I didn’t follow my heart. My parents pounded into my head that it was my duty to marry a woman of wealth. Because of this, I’ve realized what I’d lost. I don’t want Nick to make the same mistakes. I’ve known he’s been in love with you since childhood, but society has dictated to him that he marry someone with an abundance of wealth. Nick has always been an obedient boy, and I worried he would follow society’s expectations. That’s the very reason I brought you here.”

  She swiped the tear rolling down her cheek and continued reading.

  “I have written Nick a letter explaining my deception. I sincerely pray the two of you will forgive me and follow your hearts. Forget what the members of society think, and go with your feelings. Please forgive me for any misconduct that I may have shown toward you. I’m aware my illness makes me think things I know are not right. Rest assured your father doesn’t know what I had planned, but I confess your mother did. Catherine, I will always love you...as Sophia’s daughter.”

  Closing her eyes, the tears gushed down her face as she held in the sobs she wanted to release. This had been Grant’s plan all along? Why had he put her through so much heartache? Why couldn’t he see she was indeed in love with Nick, as he was with her? Now it was too late. Nick’s love wasn’t strong enough to fight the accusations thrown at her the past couple of days. For that, she may never forgive him.

  A knock came upon the door, and she jumped, clutching the letter to her chest. “Who is it?”

  “It’s your father. Are you ready to leave?”

  She scrambled to her reticule lying on the bed and stuffed the letter inside. “In a moment, Father.” Using the back of her hand, she wiped away the tears then patted her face and pinched her cheeks.

  Holding her chin erect, she walked to the door and pulled it open. Her father wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her heart twisted. So similar to the way he’d acted right after her mother was killed.

  Beside him, the guard stood, his gaze bearing down on her.

  She tried to keep an outward serenity about her as she walked down the wide staircase toward the waiting carriage. Her trunks had been packed in the accompanying conveyance, which would make their departure quicker.

  Gregg waited beside the carriage and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “My darling, please know I’ll obtain a special license for us to marry as soon as possible. We will be together very soon.”

  Stiffly, she nodded before climbing in, her father and Hodgson entering afterward. As the wheels crunched on the road, she kept her eyes on Gregg, his image shrinking with each second.

  Nick hadn’t come to see her off. She glanced at the windows of the manor, but couldn’t detect his shadow anywhere. Her heart sank lower.

  A few months ago, she’d thought her life would be a dungeon, but it was nothing compared to the misery promised for her as she lived her life without the man she loved.

  * * * *

  Nick had enough of waiting. His patience couldn’t handle it. He must find the person trying to frame Catherine. He’d watched his servants closely when the policemen continued to ask questions. So far, none had given any leeway to being fraudulent. They all seemed honest.

  Then there was Anne. She and Sara, the other laundry maid, were the two who’d first happened on Colonel Martin after his beating...and who had found Mary. Today Anne acted differently. While they were questioned, Anne’s wide eyes made Nick pause. Sara talked mostly, Anne only nodded on occasion, but it was the ashen color of Anne’s skin, the shakiness of her hands, and her gaze that couldn’t stay on anyone which made him suspicious. Anne had always been a shy girl. If she knew something, she for certain wouldn’t tell the lawmen.

  Nick breathed a sigh of relief once the man of the law left. After waiting a little while, he hurried downstairs to the laundry room. Anne wasn’t there.

  “Sara? Do you know where Anne is?”

  The maid shook her head. “No, Your Grace. She wasn’t feeling well, so she went for a walk.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “No, but she usually goes toward the pond.”

  He thanked her and hurried out of the house and to the stable. After he had his horse saddled, Nick rode hard to the place Sara had indicated. When he approached, a figure of a woman stood near a tree as she faced the body of water. It wasn’t until he was almost upon her when she spun around. The sun’s rays reflected off the knife she held, and he squinted against the glare. When he finally rested his gaze on her, she held the knife to her chest. Her face paled.

  “Don’t come any closer.” Her voice shook.

  Grumbling under his breath, he brought the animal to a halt. What could she be thinking? The knot in his stomach warned him it wasn’t good. “Anne? What are you doing?”

  Slowly, he dismounted, and she backed up a few steps toward the tree.

  “I mean it, Yer Grace.” She clutched the knife tighter, positioning the point right above her heart.

  He held up his hands. “Anne, I’m not here to hurt you. Please, put the knife down so we can talk.”

  Tears fell from her eyes and she shook her head. “There’s no use in talkin’. Not anymore.”

  Her hands trembled, as did his own, which he hid behind him and clasped together. “Please, Anne. You don’t need to hurt yourself.” He took a deep breath to try and calm his out of control heartbeat. “Do you know why I’m here?”

  “Yes.” She sniffed. “I knew it was only a matter of time before ye searched me out.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know...I know more than what I told the police.”

  “Will you tell me what you know?”

  She shook her head. Her hair had fallen out of the bun and the awkward bundle rested on her shoulder. “He will torture me, just as he tortured Mary.”

  Nick sucked in a quick breath. She was talking about the killer...and it wasn’t Catherine. He must force Anne to confess. “The killer won’t hurt you. I won’t allow it, you must b
elieve me.”

  “Ye cannot stop him. He knows everythin’. He has eyes everywhere.”

  Taking another step forward, he held his hands out away from his body as to show her he was no threat. “Tell me who he is and I’ll make certain he’s put away. The police are looking for him and we need to help them any way we can.”

  Tears blurred her eyes. “No, they’re not. They’re lookin’ for poor Miss Catherine.”

  “Exactly,” he related slow and calm, “which is why we need to tell them who this man is so he can be arrested.”

  Again, she shook her head. “Ye cannot make me say. He will torture me. He frightened Mrs. Berkley away, too. I don’t have any place to hide like she does.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Mrs. Berkley knows also?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s why she’s not here?”

  “I believe she ran to her sister’s house in to hide, but I don’t know for certain.”

  He nodded, recalling that was where his uncle had first heard of the companion. Now if he could only remember her sister’s name...

  He licked his parched lips. “Please, Anne. You have to help me. Miss Catherine wouldn’t harm anyone, and if we don’t find this man, she’ll be hanged for a crime she didn’t commit.” A knot tightened in his throat. “Please help me. I...I...love her. I cannot let her go to jail.”

  Her sobs had stopped, but she still held the knife above her heart. She glanced down at the object, her bottom lip quivering.

  “What if he finds me?” she asked softly.

  “If you tell me who he is, I’ll help you. I’ll keep you safe. I assure you, nothing will happen.”

  Slowly, she lowered the knife then dropped it. She crumbled to the ground and covered her face with her hands. He rushed to her and took her in his arms, comforting her.

  “It’s all right now, Anne. He won’t get you.”

  She shook her head. “He tortured Mary... He wouldn’t let her live to tell anyone her secret.”

  “What secret is that?” He stroked her head.

  “She was in love with yer uncle.”

  He raised his eyebrows. Apparently more people knew. “Please don’t worry, Anne.”

  “Mary wanted to marry yer uncle, and he knew this, and he wouldn’t let her live because of it...”

  He pulled back and stared into her tear-streaked face. “Who wouldn’t let her live? Who killed Mary?”

  She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sleeve. “The one who killed her is none other than Colonel Martin –”

  “Colonel Martin?” Nick gasped.

  Anne shook her head. “No, Colonel Martin’s servant, Hodgson.”

  Nick swayed, his mind reeling from the shock. “No...no...”

  “Oh, yes. He tortured Mary before he killed her. He would have tortured Mrs. Berkley, but she fled. If he hears I talked to you, he’ll torture me and kill me.”

  Panic gripped Nick’s chest, squeezing the breath out of him. Catherine is in danger! Hodgson had struck Catherine the other night – the bruise had risen on her cheek in a hideous fashion. Yet Catherine couldn’t remember. Why? She wouldn’t have been trying to protect her father’s servant. Nick shook his head. That wouldn’t be like her. She would have told him... So why couldn’t she remember?

  Anne gripped his arm tighter. “Do ye swear to God ye won’t let him touch me?”

  He nodded. “You will be protected. Let’s get you back home. Right now, it’s Miss Catherine I’m fearful for. She returned home this morning with her father and Hodgson.”

  Anne blinked, then widened her eyes. “They did?”

  “Yes.”

  “You must go save her. She’s in grave danger.”

  Nick’s heart twisted in agony. “Then let’s depart. I don’t want to waste another moment.”

  * * * *

  Nick ran into the house. “Gregg!” He rushed into his uncle’s study and to the weapons cabinet and threw open the glass doors.

  Quick footsteps boomed through the hall. “Nick? Is that you?”

  “I’m in here.” He grabbed a pistol and peered up the barrel to make certain it was on target.

  The echo from boots grew closer, and soon the deep breaths of his brother rasped behind him. “What are you shouting about?”

  Nick glanced over his shoulder. “It’s Hodgson – Colonel Martin’s servant. He’s the murderer.”

  Gregg scrunched his nose. “Are you insane? Why would you come to that conclusion?”

  Another pair of boots clunked on the floor and entered the study. Ian’s eyes widened. “What’s amiss? I detected panic in your voice.”

  Nick arched a brow. “Why would you care? You don’t believe in Catherine’s innocence.”

  Ian folded his arms. “So that’s what this is about?”

  “Yes. Catherine didn’t kill Mary or beat her father.”

  “Can you prove it?”

  “Yes.” Nick shoved the pistol in his pocket and grabbed a saber, hooking the belt around his waist. “Mrs. Berkley and Anne can testify Hodgson killed Mary.”

  Gregg cursed and ran his fingers through his hair. Ian cocked his head before a laugh escaped his throat.

  “The colonel’s servant? What kind of stories are they telling? And what a fool you are for believing.”

  Nick grabbed Ian’s shirt and shook him. “Catherine is in trouble. Hodgson is a mad man, and I’m going to save her. If you dare try to stop me, I swear on our uncle’s grave, I’ll kill you myself.” Nick’s chest heaved with quick breaths as he glared into his brother’s doubting eyes.

  Ian’s harsh gaze soon softened and he nodded. “You love her that much?”

  “I’d give my life to save hers.”

  “Are you certain it’s her father’s servant?”

  Nick released his hold on Ian. “If you had spoken to Anne as I just did, you would have seen the terror in her eyes. She was ready to kill herself for fear Hodgson would find out what she knew and torture her as he had Mary.”

  Gregg cursed again. “Then what are we standing around for? Let’s go save Catherine.”

  Nick patted Gregg’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  His brother pushed past him and grabbed his own pistol. Nick hurried out to his horse with Gregg not too far behind. As Nick swung his leg over the back of the animal, he prayed he’d make it to Catherine’s cottage in time. He couldn’t let Hodgson touch her again.

  He glanced over his shoulder at Gregg. “Are you with me then?”

  Sadness touched his brother’s eyes, his mouth tugged in a frown. “Do you love her enough to do the proper thing and marry her? I’m aware of all the times you were in her room when nobody suspected.”

  Nick gave a sharp inhale. “You knew?”

  “Yes.”

  Nick scratched his chin and nodded. “I love her, Gregg, but I won’t marry her just to do the right thing. I want to marry her because I adore her. I have since childhood, and she loves me...or at least she did.”

  “She still does,” Gregg said softly.

  “Uncle Grant knew, and approved. His last words to me before he died were encouraging me to marry Catherine. We both know the ton won’t approve because she’s a country girl, but Gregg,” Nick gripped his brother’s shoulder, “I don’t care about society. I love Catherine more than life itself. I cannot live without her.”

  Gregg chewed on his bottom lip and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Then let’s go rescue her so you can give her the happiness she deserves.”

  “Are you with me to the end?” Tears stung Nick’s eyes.

  Gregg gave him a slight grin. “To the end.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Catherine curled on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her skirt. This is where she’d gone soon after she and her father had arrived at home two days ago. This was where she would stay. For how long, she didn’t know.

  She couldn’t go on living with a broken heart. Tears streaked down her cheeks
and fatigue had sapped the strength out of her. All she could do was lay and stare at the wall.

  Why couldn’t she remember? Why was she having blackouts? It couldn’t possibly be the reason her father had given. Her mother wasn’t insane, or she would have realized it. She definitely couldn’t have that disease or Nick would have seen it.

  The harder she tried to remember what she’d done that night her father had been beaten, the harder her head pounded. But she couldn’t give up.

  Sleep threatened to disrupt her thoughts, and soon she floated toward her dreams. Memories came little by little. She’d been upset when she’d left her room that evening. She would do anything not to return home with her father. Anything...even confess that she was in love with Nick. She’d tell her father Nick had come to her room on several occasions and kissed her. She was certain her father would insist Nick marry her and do the right thing.

  She had gone to her father’s room first, but he wasn’t there. In desperation, she searched through the house then wandered outside. The fog had moved in, but thankfully, it wasn’t thick. Still, she hurried around the estate on foot, hoping to get a glimpse of her father. When she neared the stables, a movement from the large hedges drew her attention.

  The figure of a man stumbled out into the clearing. At first she thought it was someone who’d had too many spirits. His clothes were wrinkled and dusty, his hair disheveled. Yet the closer she studied him, she’d realized it was her father.

  When he saw her, he froze. She remained still, wondering why he acted like a frightened rabbit that had been caught by a hungry wolf. He’d limped when he walked toward her and stumbled a few times. His expression didn’t appear focused on her, either.

  The memory faded and Catherine’s head pounded harder. She moaned and rolled to her side on the bed, determined to remember more.