Chapter 20
The moon was near full, casting such a bright, hallowed light over the garden that I almost didn’t need the lantern I’d collected from a servant. An owl hooted in the boughs of one of the trees through which a gentle breeze blew, rustling the leaves still clinging to the branches. I picked my way through the grasses and out from the gap in the terraced garden wall, finding myself crossing a patchwork of open fields. The path skirted their divisions, so that to the left lay the dark, churned earth of a potato field and to the right the remnants of harvested barley stocks glimmering gold in the moonlight.
If not for the chill of the sea-scented air stinging my cheeks, and the uneasiness riding on my shoulders, I might have enjoyed myself, for it was a beautiful night. But I was all too conscious of my exposed position—so much so that I shuttered the lamp to douse some of its conspicuous brilliance—and fearful of what might have befallen Lord Gage. A dozen or more fantastical suppositions, each one more alarming, flitted through my brain. Suppositions I persisted to squash, lest they spur me into a genuine panic, yet they continued to spring from my ponderings.
I had been walking for what I estimated to be about half an hour, maintaining my course west even as I passed numerous crossroads and trails, when I finally caught sight of the sea rippling and glittering in the light of the moon. It was naught but waves of light and shadow, a dance of silvery white and midnight blue, but mesmerizing all the same. And there, perched on a rock overlooking the sandy cove below, sat my father-in-law.
I stumbled to a stop upon my first glimpse of him, too grateful to do more than exhale in profound relief. After working so hard to repair the damage to their relationship and progressing so far over the past few months, the last thing I wanted to tell my husband was that his father was dead. Particularly knowing we had been the ones to convince him to come here. Now, I wouldn’t have to. Though that didn’t mean Lord Gage didn’t have some explaining to do for causing us so much worry.
He turned his head as he heard me approach, his posture stiffening perhaps in dread. But once he realized it was only me, he relaxed. “Kiera,” he murmured softly. “I hoped it was you.”
This scattered all the thoughts in my head, for it was the last thing I’d expected him to say. This man who had been so cold and disdainful, if not outright cruel, when we first met. He’d openly opposed his son’s marriage to me, requiring me to blackmail him just to attend. He’d lied and manipulated, and nearly destroyed all hope of a relationship with both his sons purely out of sheer stubbornness.
But he was not the same man he’d been three months ago. I wasn’t even sure he was the same man he’d been last week. And Auntie Pasca’s words had shaken him, forcing him to alter himself again. Or at least alter his thinking about his past.
“I suppose you’re going to scold me,” he said, adopting a meek tone rather than the biting one I might have expected.
“You’ve caused us a great deal of distress,” I told him. “Your son and cousins are, even now, out searching for you on the cliffs near Roscarrock House.”
“But only you realized where I’d gone.” There was a glint of something in his eyes, though I couldn’t see it clearly in the darkness. A hint of what I suspected was approval. “You, who always see too much.” It was the first time he’d said it without a whiff of scorn. “How did you know where this place was?”
“Amelia. But why didn’t you tell us where you were going? Or at least return at a decent hour?”
Aggravation had crept into my voice, and his lips curled into that charming smile I’d seen him wield so often on others, but never me. “Would you believe I lost track of the time?”
I arched a single eyebrow to tell him exactly what I thought of that, even as I reluctantly felt his charm working on me.
His chuckle transformed into a forlorn sigh as he turned back toward the moonlit sea. “I thought not. Though it is at least partially true. I didn’t mean to stay here so long, but…”
“You had a lot to think on,” I finished for him when he couldn’t seem to find the words.
He seemed relieved not to have to explain. “Yes.”
He slid over so that I could join him on the rock. I had to admit it was a lovely vantage, if a trifle cold on this gusty November evening. I wondered how he wasn’t shivering in his greatcoat after so many hours’ stillness.
For a time, we sat in silence, listening to the snap of the wind and the gentle wash of the tide rolling in and out over the sand below. But eventually the subject had to be broached, and I realized I would have to be the one to do it.
“Tell me what troubled you so much about Pasca’s words.”
He didn’t speak, but I noticed his hands opening and closing in mute frustration where they rested on his knees. Perhaps my question had been too general, the answer too difficult to voice.
“Did you really think she’d blame you for Jago’s death?” I asked gently.
He swallowed. “Why not? I did.”
Those two bleak words squeezed my heart like a fist. “Do you understand now how wrong that was? You were merely following orders.”
“Yes, but…” He frowned. “I have always felt there was more.”
“What do you mean?”
“That there is something else to it. Something I should remember.” His voice grew frustrated. “But I can’t.” He pounded his leg. “I can’t remember.”
“Something that explains why you blame yourself?”
“Yes!”
I hesitated. “Something that explains your great anger with the Roscarrocks?”
He turned slowly to look at me. “Yes.”
“And Pasca’s words didn’t help you remember?”
“No. But…” His gaze lowered to the pebble-strewn ground through which tufts of sea thrift sprouted. “I don’t think it’s to do with my grandfather.” His face constricted in pain. “Or I don’t want to believe it is.” He removed his hat, scraping his hand back through his hair before replacing it.
“You seemed surprised he knew so much about where you were and what you were doing,” I prodded. “At least enough to report to Pasca.”
“I was. But Grandfather had friends in the Royal Navy. He must have obtained his information from them.”
“Checking to see his grandson was well cared for.”
He nodded absently before muttering, “It was more than my father ever did. Though he also never got me arrested and banished to the sea.”
I could sense he was conflicted and waited for him to continue.
“Before Jago was shot, I thought my grandfather was the greatest man alive. He had time for me when, my being a second son, my father didn’t. But grandfather didn’t seem to care about any of that. He taught me how to swim and fish and shoot and ride. He showed me how to tie knots and bowl and cheat at cards.” A smile flickered across his features only to be snuffed out. “And how to swindle and smuggle and countermand the authorities.”
He hung his head low. “When I was arrested and forced to stand before that magistrate, I realized how wrong I’d been. How much better off I would have been left to my father’s instruction and dubious affection.” He straightened. “I decided then and there that, if I ever had a son, it would be better for me to be cold and exacting like my father than risk hurting him as my grandfather had harmed me.” He shook his head dejectedly. “But I hurt Sebastian anyway.”
So startling was this confession that I couldn’t form a response. Neither Gage nor I had ever understood why his father treated him like he did, but with this revelation, much was made clear. I only wished Gage had been here to hear it.
“I can tell I’ve shocked you,” he said after several moments of silence.
I ignored this question in order to ask a more important one. “Why have you never told Sebastian this?”
“Because I didn’t quite understand it myself. Not until recently. Maybe not even until today.”
“You need to tell him.”
He turned to look at me, perhaps surprised by my insistence, and I stared back at him, refusing to break eye contact until he agreed.
“You should also know,” I added more calmly, “there is a middle ground.”
“Yes. Or rather, I do now. After seeing Sebastian with his own child. He has found the better way.”
He sounded so forlorn that I reached over to touch his arm. “It’s not too late to change. In fact, you’ve already done so.”
His expression tightened as if repressing strong emotion. “That’s true. But here…everything is harder. I fear…I am not my best self.”
“Something neither of us fault you for,” I assured him. “We know this has been difficult.” I swallowed my pride before admitting something else. “And perhaps altogether unnecessary.”
He eyed me with interest. “You don’t believe Branok was murdered?”
“We’ve found no real evidence of it. Just a whole lot of muddied water,” I groused.
He turned to gaze out over the sea, his thoughts concealed from me. I’d expected him to jump at the chance to mock me for my and Gage’s insistence on investigating, but he didn’t. Neither did he rush to agree or suggest we leave. Instead, he seemed to give the matter careful consideration. Which gave his next pronouncement all the greater weight.
“You’re right. We’ve discovered nothing by way of proof. Though I’ve been hesitant to say so because I’m perfectly aware of my prejudice and my desire to depart this place. However, if you are making the proclamation.” His gray eyes glittered in the light of the lantern sitting between us. “Perhaps I might now make the suggestion that we quit this godforsaken county.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the return of his sardonic sneer. “I wouldn’t call it godforsaken. It’s actually quite beautiful in its own wild and wistful way.” I lifted my eyes to the stars now glittering overhead, their twinkling light showering like raindrops over the sea. It was a sight I was quite sure I would never forget. “But yes, it’s time to go.”
Lord Gage bowed his head and exhaled as if a great weight had suddenly been lifted from him, and I felt all the guiltier for not only bringing him here, but not noticing it before.
“Let’s go tell the others.”
He pushed slowly to his feet before offering me his hand to pull me to mine. I scrutinized his gait as we carefully traversed the rockier ground, looking for any indication he’d aggravated his wound from all his traipsing up and down the coastline, but he seemed to move with relative ease. Then we set off arm in arm back toward Roscarrock House for what I believed would be the last time.
However, as we drew nearer, we steadily became aware of some great commotion. At first, I thought it was to do with my absence, even jesting, “Oh dear. I’m afraid Sebastian must be quite cross with me for setting off alone.”
“You let me handle Sebastian,” Lord Gage said.
But by the time we reached the garden, it became evident that whatever had happened was much more serious. Candles seemed to light every window and we could hear raised voices and doors opening and shutting as people moved about in the grassy area where several of the tables from the party were still set up. Our approach went unnoticed until we were close enough to note that something rather large rested on one of the tables. Something large and wrapped in a sheet. It was on the tip of my tongue to call out, demanding to know what all the fuss was, when someone spotted us, pointing in our direction.
Bevil charged toward us like a raging bull. “You bleddy bastard!” he hollered, adding a few more curses, some of which I understood and some that I didn’t.
I considered stepping in front of my father-in-law to block the man, for his intent was clear, but I doubted my interference would deter him. In fact, I thought it quite likely he’d pick me up and fling me aside.
He planted his cousin a facer before Lord Gage had gathered himself enough to drop the lantern and lift his hands to block another punch. “Ye killed him, didn’t ye?” Bevil demanded. “?’Twas what ye always wanted to do, and ye got your chance.”
“Killed who?” Lord Gage retorted. “What are you hollering about?”
Bevil swung out with another fist, his wiry stature making him quick. But despite not being back to his full health, Lord Gage was stronger and returned this blow with a stinging one of his own to the other man’s right cheek.
“Stop!” I shouted. “Stop this! What on earth is going on?” I inquired as my husband and Tristram raced forward to help restrain their fathers.
“I’ll kill ye,” Bevil vowed, lunging forward even as his son held fast to his shoulders.
Gage had less of a struggle to control his father, who, after all, hadn’t started the fight. “Where were you?”
“At Epphaven Cove,” Lord Gage replied.
“About thirty minutes’ walk to the west-southwest,” I informed him.
Questions flashed in his eyes, but they would have to wait.
“What happened?” My gaze flicked over his shoulder toward the object wrapped in a sheet. I thought I detected something staining one portion of the fabric. “Did someone truly die?”
A quick glance around told me that everyone was present save two people—Mery and Anderley. That last possibility made my heart stutter with fright.
Gage’s eyes darted first to his father and then Bevil, before landing on me. “Branok Roscarrock.”