by Fanny Walsh
Samuel nodded.
“If there is anything we can do to keep him where he belongs, we must do it as quickly as possible.”
Mary’s heart broke again, hearing her cousins talk about helping keep the father they loved so well behind bars. She knew that her uncle deserved no less, but her cousins deserved so much better, not this terrible, shocking revelation and devastation. She leaned on the nearby wall, suddenly feeling as though she might faint.
Duncan put his arm gently around her waist.
“Are you alright?” he asked. Her cousins looked at her, alarmed.
“I am fine,” she quickly reassured them. “Really. Please, do not worry. I just felt a little lightheaded.”
Duncan seemed to accept this explanation, and his relaxing expression seemed to calm her cousins.
“I will walk you gentlemen to the door, if you like,” he said, now speaking to her cousins with sympathetic warmth. Mary felt love for him surge in her chest.
“Thank you, Lord Tornight,” John said. “That is very gracious of you.”
John and Samuel bade Mary a final farewell, making her promise to let them know if there was anything she needed. Then, the brothers followed Duncan to the front door.
As she watched her cousins exit her home, she began to think that she might wake up to find that it had all been just another terrible nightmare.
She retreated back inside the doorway of the room in which she stood and leaned against the wall with her eyes closed, daring to hope that she might open her eyes and find out that it was so, now as much for her cousin’s sake as for her own.
Duncan’s warm embrace pulled her back into the horror of reality.
“Darling, are you alright?” Duncan asked.
As she stood wrapped in his arms, Mary realized that she was trembling again. She took a deep breath to try and steady her nerves and allowed Duncan’s embrace to comfort her. At last, she spoke.
“Yes, I believe I am alright. That is, as well as anyone can be expected to be, after one’s own flesh and blood tried to kill them.” She sighed. “Poor John and Samuel. How horrible all this is for them. If only I had known, if only I had seen, something sooner—”
“Now, Mary, like you told your cousins, you must not blame yourself. You could not have possibly known,” Duncan said.
“I wish that made some of this better,” she said.
Duncan held her close and stroked her hair.
“I am so sorry, darling, for all of this,” Duncan said, his voice cracking.
Mary gently pushed herself back from Duncan’s embrace, just enough to look up at his face.
“Don’t you dare apologize. If not for you, he would surely have killed me,” Mary said. Then, a thought occurred to her. “But, how ever did you know?”
Duncan smiled, a small, sad smile, as he brushed a clump of hair out of Mary’s face.
“I confronted Theodore, as I had intended to do,” he said. “It took me some time to find him, as he had departed for London for another of his card games. I talked to him, and it turned out that the knife that Mr. Langdon mentioned did belong to Theodore at one time, but he lost it in a bet. To your uncle.”
Mary gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
“So, everything he told me was true,” she whispered.
“What did he tell you?” Duncan asked, his face paling.
“I asked him things… about Beatrice’s father, about the fires and the carriage accident,” she said. “I had truly hoped that at least some of what he said was untrue, but…”
Duncan gently put his finger to Mary’s lips. Just looking at his face, she could tell that he was reluctant to discuss all her uncle’s terrible crimes with her just then. He felt that she was too fragile and strained to talk about it.
He did not realize, however, the extent to which her uncle had confessed his atrocities to her. She smiled sadly at him.
“Do not worry. He told me of all his heinous crimes. Everything from the fire which took my family from me, to the murder of Beatrice’s father, and everything in between.”
Duncan’s eyes blazed, and his jaw tightened.
“Would that he had spared you such terrible knowledge,” he said.
It was Mary’s turn to give Duncan a small smile.
“I was the one who asked him,” she said.
“Yes, and I bet that he was all too happy to further your torture by not sparing you a single detail,” he said bitterly.
Mary nodded, remembering with sharp clarity her uncle’s every horrible confession. She shuddered at the recollection at the pride and pleasure her uncle had seemed to derive, both from his unfathomable actions and from the ever-growing horror she had felt as he spoke.
Once more, Mary cursed herself for not having noticed sooner the terrible man her uncle was.
Duncan noticed Mary’s expression and caressed her cheek.
“What is it, darling?” he asked.
“I just cannot stop thinking about how terrible this is,” she said. “I keep asking myself how on earth he could do such a thing to my family. To his own family. And now, even his own sons must suffer.”
She sighed, feeling a fresh bout of emotion threatening to take hold. However, she was surprised at how even and steady her voice remained as she continued speaking.
Duncan met her gaze and squeezed her hands gently.
“None of this is your fault,” he said. “He was simply a greedy man who felt that he should have everything he wanted, even if it did not belong to him.”
“But perhaps, if I had married John or Samuel, none of this would have happened,” she said. “Had I only realized how cruel and ruthless he was sooner, perhaps I could have stopped him long ago. Maybe my family would even still be alive, had I agreed to marriage to one of them sooner.”
She fought a wave of nausea as she recalled his confession of the fire, words she knew she would remember until she went to her grave. This time, tears did fall.
Duncan wiped the fresh tears from her face and shook his head firmly.
“You are not to blame for any of this,” he repeated. “Who knows what he might have had planned if you had married one of his sons?”
Mary considered what Duncan had said. Duncan was glad to see the guilt fading from her eyes, but his heart was heavy with the sadness he saw there.
“You must not think of this any longer,” Duncan said, his voice now pleading. “You could not have known any of the things he has done or had planned to do. He abused your kindness and your love for him, and the blame is on no one but himself. What matters is that you are safe—”
“We are safe,” Mary interrupted, a smile beginning to form through her tears.
Duncan smiled in return, tears forming in his eyes, as well.
“Yes,” he said. “We are safe. And for that, we must be grateful.”
Mary nodded, allowing some of her guilt to subside. Her sadness, however, would not be so easily dismissed.
“I loved him so,” Mary whispered. “I could never have imagined that he could hurt me this way.”
Duncan stroked her hair again, his expression solemn but loving.
“And I can promise you that I will not allow him, or anyone, ever hurt you again.”
Mary allowed his presence and his touch continue to console her. She knew that, if he had arrived even a moment later, she would be dead. She owed him her life.
However, as they talked and she gathered her wits about her, she realized something else. Duncan owed her something, as well, and she had prayed to God to get the chance to discuss some things with Duncan.
She hated to once again darken the atmosphere, but she needed to know. And, now that she had that chance, she did not intend to waste it. She at last pulled herself, admittedly reluctantly, away from Duncan.
“I overheard you speaking with your father in your office,” Mary said.
Duncan, who still looked a bit dazed himself until that moment, suddenly grew pale. His eyes da
rkened, and at first Mary thought he was angry with her for eavesdropping.
“Mary, please, I can explain,” Duncan began.
“You mean that you can explain how I was nothing more than a pawn in some deal you made with your father?” she asked. She was surprised to find that she no longer felt any anger.
Perhaps the day’s trauma had drained it from her, or the love she had admitted to herself that she felt for Duncan, or maybe both. Whatever the case, she now felt curious and detached, rather than hurt or upset.
Duncan shook his head fiercely.
“No, Mary, that is certainly not what you have ever been,” he said.
“I heard the conversation, Duncan. And, in truth, I am no longer angry. I simply want to know why you chose me, if all you were seeking was a bride.”
“Because you were never to be just a bride,” Duncan said, his voice becoming desperate and anxious.
Mary blinked in surprise, but she would not be deterred.
“He said something about moving up the deadline and disinheriting you if you failed to meet the terms,” she continued.
“Mary, if you had stayed, you would have heard the rest of that conversation,” Duncan said, his eyes pleading.
“And what was it that I missed?” Mary asked, her heart pounding. She had never considered that there might be more to the story than what she had heard. Now, she hoped desperately that was the case.
“I told my father that I could not care less about his title,” Duncan said.
Mary’s heart beat faster.
“Is that the truth?” she asked.
“It is,” Duncan said. “The only interest I had in that title was keeping it out of my cousin’s hands.” Duncan sighed. “If Theodore could be trusted with the title, I would gladly step down and let him have it. But with his gambling and his drinking, he cannot.”
Mary listened as things began to make sense to her. Everything that Duncan had told her in his office the day she had asked him what he was hiding from her, his admission of his cousin’s recklessness, his father’s overbearing forcefulness.
She felt foolish for fleeing the office that night, without even trying to speak to Duncan first.
“I know how what you heard must have sounded,” Duncan continued. “And, if it were me in your place, I might have felt the same way and fled, too. But Mary, I do not want you for your titles, or your money, or to fulfill some ludicrous ultimatum my father sets for me.”
“Then what it is that you do want?” Mary asked, her breath catching. This time, she hoped she was not dreaming.
“What I want is you, for exactly who you are,” Duncan said. He stepped toward her and took her hands again. “I know that you broke off the engagement, but I do hope that, now that you know everything, you will change your mind. I am in love with you. And I do not want anyone else except you.”
Mary gasped. She stared at Duncan for some time, studying his eyes as he studied her. For the first time, she saw the way he looked at her, and she knew that what he said was indeed true.
“Oh, Duncan,” she breathed. She took a step toward him to embrace him, but the stress of the struggle with her uncle had put a terrible strain on her leg, and she felt a sharp pain. She winced and reached down to rub it.
“Are you alright?” Duncan asked, reaching to grab her should she need it.
She nodded as a thought occurred to her.
“I want to have this dreadful leg of mine reset,” she said.
Duncan looked at her blankly, apparently confused at the sudden change in the discussion.
“Of course,” he said. “I am still willing to do the procedure whenever you are ready.”
“Very good,” she said. “I shudder to think of me limping down the aisle to meet you. I would make a ghastly bride, don’t you think?”
Mary watched Duncan’s face as the realization of what she was saying dawned on him. Duncan beamed a gorgeous smile at her and then swooped her up in his arms, as if they were at a ball preparing for a dance. Mary laughed.
“Do you mean it?” Duncan asked, his eyes shining.
Mary smiled up at him.
“I do,” she said.
Chapter 34
Duncan tried to convince Mary to spend the night in his clinic on one of his sick beds, so that he could keep an eye on her overnight.
With the terrible stress of the day, and the minor bruises he could see forming from where her uncle had gripped her, he wanted to ensure that she got a good night’s rest.
Mary, however, true to her independent nature, insisted that she go home. She promised him that her maid, Susan, would take excellent care of her.
After realizing that Mary would not be budged on the subject, Duncan begged her to come to his office and allow him to give her something to help her sleep. To this, much to Duncan’s relief, Mary agreed.
Mary started to leave the room to call to her servants, and Duncan jumped from his seat to follow.
“If you like, you can wait by the door. The carriage should be ready in a moment,” Mary said.
Even though the threat to Mary’s life had been removed, he was still in no hurry to let her out of his sight.
“It is alright. I will walk with you,” Duncan said.
Mary smiled.
“You are not going to start hovering now, are you?” Mary teased.
“For all the rest of our days,” Duncan said, grinning.
Mary’s limp had worsened considerably after the struggle with her uncle, so Duncan carefully escorted her down the stairs and held her arm to help support her as she spoke with Susan.
As Mary had predicted, within a few moments, the carriage was ready. Duncan helped Mary into the carriage and boarded right behind her.
“So, how soon can we do this procedure?” Mary asked.
Duncan studied her for a moment. For Mary, he would clear his schedule for the very next day. However, he knew that all the recent stress could very well hinder her healing progress. He wanted to ensure that she was well-rested, and more emotionally at ease, before he performed a surgical procedure on her.
“I could schedule it for a week from now,” he said.
Mary’s face fell.
“Could we not do it sooner?” she asked.
“I have a few patients to see this week,” Duncan said. “Besides, I really need you well-rested and relaxed beforehand. The better you feel at the time of the procedure, the quicker and better you will heal.”
Duncan held his breath, hoping that she would not be stubborn and insist on moving up the procedure. After a moment of consideration, she smiled and nodded.
“I can wait a few more days if it means that my leg will get better more quickly,” she said.
Duncan grinned.
“Then it is settled,” he said.
When they arrived at his office, Duncan gave Mary her medicine. She smiled gratefully.
“Thank you, doctor,” she said.
“You can take it about an hour before you are ready to sleep,” Duncan said. “I want you to stay at home as much as possible. And I will be making a house call in a few days to see how you are feeling and to do a pre-operation exam.”
“I am so fortunate to have a doctor who cares so much about his profession,” Mary said, blushing.
“I am indeed passionate about medicine,” Duncan said with a twinkle in his eye. “But I also care a great deal about my patient.”
“Then I am twice as fortunate,” Mary said, looking at Duncan through her lashes. Duncan thought to himself about how beautiful Mary looked when she blushed. His heart skipped.
“Let me escort you back to your carriage,” Duncan said.
“Are you so quick to be rid of me?” Mary said with a laugh.
Duncan ached to caress her cheek, but he refrained.
“I am merely anxious to get you home and resting,” Duncan said. “I can sacrifice a few moments with you if it means it is in the interest of your wellbeing.”
Mary blushe
d again.
“Alright, doctor, I believe I am ready to go home,” she said. Duncan offered his arm to Mary and walked her slowly to her carriage.
As he watched Mary’s carriage move from view, Duncan felt the day’s strain at last begin weighing on him. He felt great joy that Mary was alive and well, and that she had agreed once and for all to marry him.
