by Rose Gordon
“I didn't realize we were standing in an echoing mountain pass,” she murmured. Then she closed her eyes, pressed her lips together and shook her head. She blinked her eyes back open. “I'm sorry. I'm just nervous, and when I get nervous, I say silly things.” She took a deep breath and sniffled a bit. “I understand that Elijah didn't feel he had to make good on his promise since I'd forced him to sign it. And I understand that the both of you would like to believe my motives were from desperation and the basic need for survival. But they weren't.” She swallowed audibly and a single tear slipped from the corner of her left eye.
“When the messenger came with the urgent letter, he was in too much of a hurry and neglected to say who it needed to be given to. There was no name on the front, so I opened it.”
He nodded once, a sign of acceptance that he believed what she'd said so far. Letters often came to them while on assignment with no name or direction on the outside of the missive. Especially if they were private—and this one was private. He always assumed it was done that way, so if the letter was intercepted, it couldn't be traced. Mr. Malone was notorious for doing this. He'd wrap one missive inside the paper of another, making several layers. Each layer had a new direction that would be to another secret post along the way between his home base and where it was going. The second to the last layer was always to a messenger's shop near the final destination. The messenger would know to be expecting said missive as he'd have been sent a direct message from Mr. Malone weeks before, detailing the type of message he'd be receiving soon, where to deliver it and with the precise instructions not to write anything on the paper. It was a convoluted way to do things, to be sure; but when death was the punishment for a spy being caught, Mr. Malone took no chances with his men.
“That's how you knew we were spies,” Henry said flatly.
“Of sorts; I didn't know if you were there on behalf of your country or just impostors who'd come to swindle money from Mr. Swift. While I had no intention to stand in your way, whichever mission you were there to fulfill, I found something in that letter worth more to me than the imagined satisfaction of seeing my father-in-law lose all of his money: revenge.”
He couldn't explain why, but that last choked word had the unnatural power to crack his already fractured heart. The things in the report Elijah had must be true. But why was she telling him? She didn't have to. And he certainly hadn't expected her to. She had no way of knowing how much Henry knew about her, to know if it would benefit her to confess this and play the role of the abandoned woman or not. He fisted his hands again and resisted the urge to comfort her in any manner, lest she fool him again. There was still much to be explained. “You got that from a letter?”
“Yes,” she said, blessedly not commenting on the roughness in his voice. Likely that was because hers was very rough and full of emotion, as well. She blinked back her tears again and then met his eyes. “Yesterday, you asked if I knew Madison Banks.”
His blood picked up pace, and he gave her a quick nod as if to encourage her to continue.
She sighed. “I do. Did. I did. I met her shortly after I arrived in New York. After I was compromised, his parents thought it was prudent for me to make an appearance in Society before the wedding; so we attended a few balls and dinners, nothing too extravagant or fancy, but enough events that people would know who I was. I didn't realize, at the time, that he'd been courting her. Well, I'd heard they had courted, but I didn't think they still were.” Her lower lip held a slight tremble, creating a noticeable waver in her voice. “Not that it mattered. He still wanted her.” Despite the tears that were now spilling over the rims of both of her sad, broken eyes, she pressed on. “Everything I did, he said she'd have done better. Everything I said, he said that she'd have said it with more grace and humor. Everything I wore, he'd tell me that she would have looked more beautiful wearing it. I didn't conceive right away, and he said...”
She shook her head and sniffled again but didn't bother to dash away the tears that had now made her cheeks shine in the candlelight. “There was nothing I could do to compete with her. I thought once she left, he'd notice me and treat me the way he had before we'd married; but he didn't. Instead, he just became more obsessed with her. I didn't think such a thing was possible, but it was. He'd get drunk and yell and hit me for driving her away.” She choked on a sob. “And he wasn't too far from the truth about that. I did drive her to leave.”
“You didn't make her leave,” Henry said, before he could think better of it.
A wobbly frown took her lips. “Actually, I did. Six weeks after we'd married, I had my second flux. In his irritation with me for not conceiving soon enough, Robbie told me that were I her, I'd have already conceived. I was so upset by this, that later when I passed by her as she was leaving the house of a mutual friend, I made some glib remark about her being loose with her affections. She walked outside and I never saw her again. I knew it was wrong to embarrass her that way in front of her friends, and had I known it was in any way true, I certainly wouldn't have said it. But that's unimportant; I never should have said it anyway. I just wanted to embarrass her enough that she'd stop encouraging Robbie's attention and he'd notice me. Not make her leave the country.”
Henry's chest constricted at her admission. This was more than he'd expected her to tell him. But was it genuine? His heart screamed yes, but his brain wasn't sure if it was convinced yet. There was still so much that hadn't been answered. He slid a chair near her and took a seat. He wanted the truth; but only because she wanted to tell him, not because he'd intimidated her into telling him. Or so he told himself, as he fought the growing urge to take her into his arms and assure her all would be well.
“Because of my quick tongue, she left; and for a year, she was all Robbie talked about, and he did anything he could to make me pay for my role in her disappearance. No matter what I tried to do to catch his eye or even just please him by being the model wife in Society, it was fruitless. He wanted her and eventually he left me to find her.”
“I'm sorry,” he said; his voice a harsh whisper.
“Don't be. It's not your fault.” She sighed. “But neither is it hers.”
He swallowed convulsively and cocked his head to the side, hoping she'd elaborate.
She lowered her eyes and fiddled with the lace on her left cuff. “I hated that he loved her so much. Genuinely hated it. I hated that it made him go from a charming suitor to a cruel and callous husband in the span of a wedding ceremony. I hated that I was never good enough and that I could never be. But most of all, I hated that he abandoned me to reclaim her.” Her crackling voice finally broke. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then continued. “I hated the life I had. First, being the wife who could never compare, then, as the abandoned wife who had to publicly bear the shame of being left by her husband for another woman, and finally, there was the private shame and ill treatment by his parents.
“As you've already mentioned, it was only for appearances that I was still living with his parents at the time you came to Brooklyn. But a year after the day we learned of Robbie's death, they cast me out. This wasn't a surprise; I knew it would happen. Their generosity was only on the condition that they must allow me to live with them so not to tarnish their names. So when I saw that your last name was Banks and that your father was a baron who bore the name of Madison's uncle, I couldn't let it pass. I—I—I was so angry and hurt and jealous and foolish that all I saw was a chance to hurt her.” A series of harsh sobs wracked her body. “I just wanted to tell her husband of her discretions and condemn her to the same miserable marriage I'd had, filled with a husband who despised her and would never think well of her.”
Henry understood now. To Laura, a lady who, as far as he knew, had never been loved or felt she was special in any way, she didn't feel worthy that one day she could have those things and, clouded by jealousy and hurt, had plotted to inflict the same hurt on the person she felt was responsible. What was left of Henry's resolve crumb
led, and he was on the bed and by her side in a second. He pulled her into his lap. “Shhh,” he crooned in her ear and then, before he could stop himself, he said, “You're not married to him anymore. You're married to me, a man who loves you more than you'll ever know.”
~Chapter Thirty-Four~
Henry's declaration only made her sob harder, for she didn't doubt his words. He might have lied to her by omission about his identity, but he wasn't the sort who'd lie to protect or mend her feelings. And in this circumstance, he was in no position to need to do that. He hadn't been in the wrong; she had.
For the first time in her life, she seemed to have earned someone's love when she positively didn't deserve it.
“It's all right,” he whispered, rubbing her back with long, even strokes.
“No, it's not,” she said, trying to pull away and scamper off his lap. She swiped at the tears that were dripping from her trembling jaw. “It's unforgivable.”
“Nothing is unforgivable.”
A shaky laugh escaped her lips. “This is. Henry, I meant to ruin her life more than I already had,” she said on the verge of hysteria. “That is not forgivable.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, standing. He cupped her face. “There is nothing that cannot be forgiven.”
She jerked out of his hold as if his touch burned her and reached down for her valise.
“Do you mean to leave?”
She nodded. “It's for the best.”
“For whose best?” Henry demanded, crossing his arms. “Do you care so much for your own pride that you find it easier to run away than to confront your problems? I knew you were more timid than I originally thought you to be, but I didn't know you'd become a coward.”
Laura recoiled as if he'd slapped her. His words hurt more than anything Robbie had ever said or done to her. “I'm not a coward. I am doing what's in the best interest of everyone involved.”
“By running away?” He shook his head, his lips curling up in disgust. “What about your best interest? What about our marriage? What about me, Laura? Do I mean so little to you that you won't fight for what you want?”
“No,” she said on a sob. “I love you, Henry. I do. I love you more than anyone, but I—” a sob lodged in her throat. “I can't stay. Once Madison arrives in a few hours, everything will be out. Your entire family will know that we knew each other in New York, and it won't take long for them to realize it was not by coincidence that I came here. Then, they'll put the pieces together and realize what an unworthy person I am to be married to you, which is exactly what I am.”
A strange look came over Henry's face. “Is that why you told me any of this? You knew Madison would be here soon and you wanted to leave before the truth was exposed?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I can't stay. Your entire family will hate me, as they should.”
Something flashed in his blue eyes. “Then why didn't you just leave while I was still in the house?”
“Because I thought it was fair that you know,” she said with a hard swallow.
“I don't think so. I think you stayed because you love me, too, and you want to stay. You're just too scared to do anything about it.”
“There's nothing to be done,” she fired back, her eyes flooding with another round of tears.
“Yes, there is. You can talk to Madison. You can tell her the truth and let her decide.”
“Decide what?” Laura burst out. “Whether I'm worthy of being married to her cousin? I think not.”
“No. You can see if she's worthy of being your friend or not.”
“That's ridiculous. She's done nothing wrong and has nothing to prove. I do, and we both know that I come up lacking.”
Laura couldn't see his facial expression through the blinding tears and, with the blood pounding in her ears, could barely register his voice when he spoke again. “You only continue to come up lacking because you think you do. I don't find you lacking.” He reached for her again and framed her face with his hands. “I find you perfect. You're the one who is still looking for your faults. We've all been jealous, Laura. I used to be insanely jealous of Elijah because Amelia chased him around the lawn and declared a love for him so strong it could move the mountains. I know it's different, but it's still jealousy. Jealousy that makes one behave in ways he shouldn't, such as throwing snowballs at them with large rocks inside or sprinkling thorns where you know they're about to sit.”
“This isn't the same.”
“No,” he agreed. “It's not. But neither was my heart really involved. I was a young boy jealous of my brother who was getting attention from the annoying neighbor, so I thought to thwart him and snag her attention at the same time. While my actions were different, my motives were the same as yours.”
“It's not the same, Henry. Your crimes were trivial and cleared with a simple apology. Mine include mortifying someone enough to make them leave the continent, and then to take it further, I followed her with the intention to completely ruin her life.”
“But you didn't. And that's what's more important.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “And what's most important is that you have a chance to make this right. You just have to take it.”
“I can't.”
“No, you can. It's that you won't.” He abruptly released her face and straightened. “You owe it to Madison to speak to her about this, just as you owe it to me, and even more, to yourself. I don't care about the outcome of your conversation with her, Laura. It won't change my opinion of you or the love I have for you, but I can't do it for you.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I know that it's hard. I'll be there for you, sitting right beside you if you'd like; but, Laura, if you don't speak to her and you decide to leave, I will help you get to London undetected and find you passage back to America. However, you cannot come back. Ever. Everything you have now—including me—will be lost. Is that what you want?”
~Chapter Thirty-Five~
Henry had always thought the hardest words he'd ever spoken came only weeks ago when he admitted to his brother's wife that he'd nursed a secret tendre for her for years. Not so. The hardest words he'd truly ever spoken had just passed his lips.
He hadn't wanted to be cruel to her, but it was the truth. If Laura did not repair things with Madison, their marriage would never work. It wasn't that he felt Laura needed to beg forgiveness. Nor was it that he believed Laura needed Madison's forgiveness and the two could become fast friends. To the contrary, this was something that, if not addressed, had the ability to tear their entire family apart, but it didn't have to. Madison was a sensible lady. She wouldn't let bruised feelings or pride keep her from accepting Laura into the family. At least not if the two spoke and all feelings were laid out where nobody was secretly nursing a grudge or in fear that the other was. That was the crux of it. This could all be forgiven and go away, but Laura had to find it in herself to know that she was worthy to be a member of the Banks family just as much as Madison and fight for what she wanted.
Henry shoved his hands into his pockets and gripped whatever contents he could wrap his fingers around in each. “I'll arrange a time for the two of you to meet in the afternoon,” he said hoarsely, then commanded his heavy legs to carry him from the room before he lost his resolve and promised to do something foolish, such as offer to whisk her away and protect her from all of life's hardships. As much as he'd like to, and intended to if it came to that, it wouldn't help her.
***
Laura sat lifelessly on the bed and listened to the slow tick of the clock on the mantel above the fireplace.
Her eyes drifted from each wall in the room to the window and down to her valise. Then, she closed them for a few moments to hold back the tears, and eventually they began the same journey again.
She couldn't face Madison. She didn't know what she could say that would close the chasm she'd created between them. Though she hadn't had any pangs of jealousy at learning that Madison's marriage was a love match as she had when she'd received not
ice that Robbie had died at Madison's husband's estate, would that change, and all of those bitter feelings she'd once had come flooding back to her, when she saw her? Madison had never gloated to Laura about still having Laura's husband under her spell, but would she now? Would she flaunt that she had always had Robbie's attention, so much so that he'd chased after her by crossing an ocean to find her and died while in the presence of yet another man who loved Madison. And what of the rest of her family? Not only did she have a husband who loved her; they'd been married at least six years; it was quite possible they had a child or two. A lump lodged in her throat and she lowered her face against her elevated hands that were propped up by placing her elbows on her knees. It was going to be a long night.
And indeed it was.
By morning, she had no better idea of what she'd say to Madison.
She wanted to mend what she'd done. She wanted Henry and she wanted his family and all of the love they had to share. She just didn't know what she could offer of herself to fix this, or if such a thing were even possible.
Time and her surroundings blurred together as the day wore on.
“Madam,” Beth said from the door way.
Laura turned her tired body in the direction of the maid. “Yes?”
“Master Henry asked that I give this to you.” She walked in and handed Laura a folded piece of vellum. She waited for the maid to leave and then unfolded it.
I'll be by at half three this afternoon.
Henry
Her numb fingers almost dropped the vellum. There was now a set time that she was to have this meeting. Her eyes shot to the clock and the paper did fall from her loose grasp. It was ten minutes to three now.
Without allowing herself time to think or act or feel or rationalize anything, she took to her feet and left the room.
***
Henry doubted either of them got any sleep last night. Judging by her occasional sob and his hammering heart full of anticipation, he'd wager they both had stayed awake.
