Chapter Nineteen #3
Addax sighed heavily, hanging his head with the short but very plausible story.
As the magistrate in Penrith had presumed, Maximilian had ended up in the river—only somehow, he’d washed onto the bank rather than drowned.
He was found by the tavern keeper and brought to Appleby, where he’d been recovering for the past several months.
Indeed, Maximilian de Grey was alive.
The knots in Addax’s stomach were getting worse.
“What happened to him?” he managed to ask.
The tavern keeper shrugged. “Someone beat him,” he said. “They broke his skull and left him for dead, I suppose. He is blind in one eye, but he’s strong. He can work. He is the best kind of worker because he cannot complain. But why the questions? Do you know who he is?”
Adonis started to nod, but Addax stopped him. “I am not certain,” he lied, mostly because he didn’t want the tavern keep to try to ransom Maximilian if he knew that he was the Earl of Bretherdale. “I thought I might have recognized him, but now I am not certain.”
The tavern keeper looked back at Maximilian before shrugging. “Gorach!” he called to him. When Maximilian looked up at him, the tavern keep waved him over. “Come here. Hurry, lad.”
Maximilian had never obeyed an order in his life, or, at the very least, he obeyed them with some reluctance.
He’d never been a man who liked to be pushed around.
But he obeyed the tavern keeper as if God himself had given him the order, shuffling over to where the man was standing.
Addax could see that he was limping. In fact, there was so much he could see about him that was wrong.
It may have looked like Maximilian de Grey, but it wasn’t.
Not as Maximilian used to be. But the tavern keep’s explanation cleared up nearly all of the confusion.
Maximilian couldn’t speak, he didn’t know who or what he was, and he’d ended up in a village where no one had recognized him.
Yet.
That was the key factor in all of this.
“Gorach,” the tavern keeper said, indicating Addax. “Do you know this man?”
Maximilian looked Addax in the face. Addax found himself looking back, holding his breath, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement, but Maximilian simply stared at him. There was nothing in those eyes that was warm or even kind.
It was just a blank stare.
“Think,” Addax said to him. “Think back to the people you have known. Do you recognize me?”
Maximilian continued to stare at him. There were several long moments where he seemed to tilt his head as if almost remembering but not quite.
Addax looked at him, straight on, wondering if some distant memory might be jogged.
The broken skull had obviously affected everything about him—his memory, his eyesight, the way he moved.
One side of his face was even droopy, so the damage he suffered had been great.
Addax found himself feeling sorry for the Maximilian he used to know, but not the man he had turned into once he married Emmeline. He didn’t pity that man at all.
He wished that man had stayed dead.
After staring at Addax for what seemed like hours but in reality was only a minute or two, Maximilian simply turned away and headed back to his task of swabbing the wagon bed. The tavern keeper, Addax, and Adonis watched him go before the tavern keeper returned his attention to Addax.
“I would say he doesn’t know you,” he said. “But I think you know him and won’t tell me. Who is he?”
Addax was still looking at Maximilian as the man picked up a rag and resumed washing the wagon. “As I said, I’m not sure,” he told the tavern keeper. “But I’ll be back. Make sure he does not go anywhere.”
The tavern keep shrugged and headed back inside his establishment as Addax and Adonis turned away. They headed out into the busy street.
“Well?” Adonis said. “What are you going to do?”
Addax shook his head, struggling to stay logical about the situation. Heartbreak didn’t cover half of what he was feeling. He was terrified to tell Emmeline, terrified of her reaction.
All he could feel was devastation.
“I do not know,” he said honestly, pausing as they reached the opposite side of the street. His gaze moved to the busy tavern. “He is alive, but he does not know who he is. But that does not mean someone who knew him will not recognize him and tell the tavern keeper.”
“You did not tell him who he was,” he said. “Why not?”
Addax cocked a dark eyebrow. “Tell the man that his mute servant is none other than the Earl of Bretherdale?” he said. “If he tries to ransom him, or worse, it will be a horrific mess, and one I do not wish to engage in, so it is best not to tell him. For now, let him think what he will.”
Adonis scratched his head. “And Emmeline?” he said quietly. “What about her?”
Addax sighed faintly. “I will have to tell her.”
“And what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
Adonis looked at him. “I’ve known the lady for several years now,” he said softly.
“I am not a fool. I know you were in love with her when she first married Maximilian. I know she was in love with you. It was a sad situation, I will admit. I will further admit that I never liked de Grey. He was selfish and vile. I would much rather see you married to her, Addax. If I may call you Addax. You are the husband she deserves.”
Addax smiled weakly. “While I appreciate that, the fact remains that her husband isn’t dead,” he said.
“He isn’t dead, but he does not know who he is.
Mayhap he never will. Do I leave him at the Scot’s Head and hope no one who knew him ever recognizes him?
Or do I bring the Earl of Bretherdale home?
If I do that, I cannot marry the woman I love. ”
Adonis was sympathetic. “But even if you marry her now, the marriage will not be valid,” he said. “With Maximilian still alive…”
Addax knew that. He simply couldn’t believe that his future happiness was in the balance at the moment, not to mention Emmeline’s.
He found himself praying his brother would show up, because he needed Essien’s guidance.
He wasn’t sure he could make the correct choice here, because he was more than willing to leave Maximilian at that tavern.
But as a man of honor, he knew he couldn’t.
Honor that would cost him the love of his life.
“The honorable thing would be to bring him home,” he said hoarsely. “But I must… I must speak with Emmy and tell her what has happened. We must make that decision together.”
Adonis understood. “I am sorry you must. I truly am.”
So was Addax. Resigned, and depressed, he shook his head. “I do not feel much like going to the goldsmith today,” he muttered. “Find the escort and have them report back to the carriage. I just want to go… home.”
There was nothing else he could do, and they both knew it. Perhaps that was the bitterest pill of all. As Addax turned in the direction he had come from, he heard Adonis’ soft voice.
“Wait,” he said. “Addax… look.”
Addax turned to see what had the man’s attention, and he could see Maximilian standing at the edge of the road, looking over at him.
There were people between them, going about their business, but Maximilian was staring straight at him.
Addax simply stood there, watching and waiting, wondering what was going through Maximilian’s mind.
He wondered if Maximilian had suddenly remembered him and was trying to figure out how and where and why.
As Addax continued to watch with some apprehension, Maximilian began to cross the street toward him.
He lifted an arm, pointing at him, as he walked.
But then he stopped in the middle of the street and lowered his hand. His mouth began to work.
Addax was on pins and needles as one word came forth out of Maximilian’s mouth.
“Ahhhhd,” he said loudly.
Ad. That was what he used to call Addax. Next to Addax, Adonis gasped.
“My God,” he breathed. “He knows you. He knows!”
Addax was staring at Maximilian. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.
He didn’t know whether to cry or run. As he stood there, debating what to do and how his life was going to change from now on, a runaway horse and wagon tore down the street, straight for Maximilian.
Addax was looking at him one moment, and in the next, he was gone.
The horse and wagon had plowed right into him.
People were screaming and scattering to safety as the wagon went another few feet before breaking an axle and tipping over.
The driver was thrown out, and the harnessed horses became tangled up with the twisted wagon behind them and couldn’t go any further.
Men were running out to grab the horses and help the driver, and Addax could see Maximilian crumpled underneath the tipped wagon.
He and Adonis rushed forward, grabbing a few of the men who had spilled out of the Scot’s Head to see what the screaming was about, and ordering them to lift the wagon. Six or seven of them lifted it, including Adonis, as Addax slid Maximilian out from underneath it.
There was no doubt that the man was dead.
Just like that, Maximilian was gone. Again.
But this time for good. Hands on his head in disbelief, Addax found himself looking at Maximilian, whose neck had clearly been broken.
The man’s head was turned all the way around on his shoulders.
He knelt in the dirt beside him, suddenly feeling a horrific sense of loss.
It was true that Maximilian’s discovery had meant that Addax’s future plans were destroyed, but it was also true that Addax had intended to do the right thing, even to his own detriment. He was resigned to it.
And now this.
He simply couldn’t believe it.
Glancing up, he could see that the wagon had been driven by Neif.
The young and skittish horse had apparently gotten away from the man, with devastating results.
Addax found himself looking down at Maximilian once again.
The man’s eyes were open in death, and Addax leaned over him, gently closing them.
“Godspeed, my friend,” he murmured. “I do not know what happened to you, or why, but go now. Go and be free.”
“My God!” Ingram was suddenly there, looking at the catastrophe. “What happened? Is that man dead?”
He was pointing to Maximilian, but Addax didn’t reply. He was looking at Adonis. “Find a blanket or something to cover him up with,” he said. “Quickly.”
Adonis rushed straight into the tavern as a crowd began to gather around the wagon, emerging very shortly with a coverlet he’d ripped off a bed in one of the rental chambers.
He had to push his way back through the crowd to hand it to Addax, who covered up Maximilian just about the time Emmeline appeared.
He heard her cry out.
“Addax!” she gasped. “My God! Are you injured?”
He stood up quickly when he saw her standing next to Ingram. Ingram’s wife and daughter were with her, but Addax went to Emmeline and hurriedly pulled her away from the snarl of people.
“Nay, love,” he said steadily. “I am not injured. But what are you doing here? I told you to stay in the stall.”
Emmeline tried not to appear too guilty. “I know,” she said. “But the horses bolted, and Ingram ran after them. Then his wife and daughter ran after them, so I did, too. They were panicked, and I thought I could help.”
He frowned. “Help with a runaway wagon?” he said doubtfully. “Honestly, Emmy. Did you think I would believe that?”
The guilt overtook her. “I was only trying to help,” she insisted weakly. But then she pointed to the covered body by the wagon. “What happened?”
Addax turned to look at the blanket-covered corpse, the people still standing around it.
The situation, in only the past several minutes, had changed so rapidly, and he was still trying to keep up with it.
He’d just been resigning himself to the fact that Maximilian wasn’t dead, but Fate had a different idea about the situation.
That skittish horse that Addax had commented on had turned out to be the catalyst for his future.
A future he’d worked so very hard for. The plans he’d made, the child Emmeline carried…
All of it would come to fruition now. For good, this time.
The realization was enough to bring tears to his eyes.
“Em,” he said softly. “There’s something I must tell you.”
She looked up at him. “What is it?”
“You are aware that Max’s body was never found.”
She cocked her head sharply in surprise. “What brought that up?”
He turned her around, moving her back the way she’d come. “There is something you should know,” he said. “I’ve found Max.”
She gasped. “You did?” she said. “Oh, Addax… you did?”
“I did.”
“But where?”
“Here.”
“In this town?”
“Aye.”
“How did you find him?”
Addax decided, very quickly, that she didn’t need to know all of it.
Not now. It would only upset her, and he didn’t want to do that, not when she was in a delicate condition.
Perhaps he’d tell her all of it someday, but for now, all she needed to know was that Maximilian’s body had been found and they could get on with their lives.
They could live and laugh and love one another as they’d planned.
Everything as they’d planned.
Briefly, he remembered what Emmeline had said to him once when they realized their feelings for one another and knew they would never be able to act on it. They were painful and poignant words that had stayed with him. But they seemed especially important now.
I shall go to my grave having never known a loving touch or the kiss of a man I love beyond all reason. That is why I envy your parents—at least they knew what love was.
Addax knew too. And so did Emmeline.
Thanks to a pair of runaway horses, nothing could come between them ever again.
Addax told her, with as little detail as possible, about finding Maximilian in the village.
He didn’t tell her that Maximilian had been alive when he found him, however.
That was something that would wait, details she didn’t need to know at this time.
He wasn’t surprised by her relief, and her gratitude, and two weeks later in St. Catherine’s Church in Penrith, they buried Maximilian in the same crypt as his mother and father, at the feet of his grandparents.
And with that, it was finally over.
When Essien finally arrived at Alston Castle a week after the burial, Addax told him the entire story from start to finish.
It was quite shocking. But when Essien realized that his brother’s happiness was now assured, with no more twists of fate or with a woman that was out of his reach—again—Essien’s reaction was surprising.
He wept.