Chapter 27 LOVE RISING
Chapter 27
L OVE R ISING
Winchester, England
July 2, 1881
Two hours after leaving their spot in the moors, Miles and Lillian reached Elmhurst. It was a fine day outside, a jeweled-blue sky—the perfect recipe for a day worthy of celebration. Gardeners pruned a row of hedges along the approach to the house. Their family had owned the land as far as Miles could see for nearly as long as the cathedral had been standing, but he had no issues with giving up his rights. He’d never been more sure of a decision in his life.
A stableboy came out to take the horses. Miles introduced Lillian and then asked, “Is my brother back?”
“Yes, he returned about an hour ago.”
The secret was surely out. He led Lillian by hand to the front door, where a servant waited.
“Hello, Nathaniel,” Miles said to him, having known him since he was a boy. “Meet Miss Turner.”
Nathaniel nodded with his dimpled chin. “A pleasure, miss.”
“How do you do?” Lillian said to him.
They entered the house, and Miles straightened his back, ready to stand up to the man who had stood over him since the moment he’d taken his first breath. True freedom was only moments away.
“Father?” he called out into the house.
Silence echoed back.
“Father, are you there?” Noticing her timidity, Miles pulled Lillian closer.
Footsteps and the smack of a cane on wood announced Lord Pemberton’s presence. The hat that seemed nearly permanent was removed from his head, revealing straight gray hairs that couldn’t quite cover his baldness anymore. The sight of his eldest son elicited only frigidity. The sight of Lillian evoked contempt.
His eyes narrowed to Miles. “What is this?”
“Father, meet Miss Lillian Turner.”
He glanced at her briefly, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, the girl Edward told me about. I asked him to follow you this morning. Had a feeling you were up to no good.”
Miles found strength in his love for Lillian and his hope for their future, and he squeezed Lillian’s hand tighter, hoping she felt it too. James lowered his gaze to the connection of their hands, and his eyes squinted in disapproval.
“Where is Mother? I’d like for her to be here as well.”
“What for?” James asked.
“Where is she?”
James looked up the stairs and back at Miles. “Your mother is not feeling well.”
Miles knew what that meant. He’d seen it since he was old enough to understand, how she’d probably been struck by her husband and was hiding from the outside world. He wanted her to be there, but then again, it was James who was in charge. Miles wondered where his brother might be, but only for a moment.
He looked at his father with all the strength that he had in him and said, “May we talk?”
“What about?”
“My future. Let’s walk into the great room.”
Miles wasn’t asking, and he led Lillian past the stairs and into the massive room that featured views of their estate. He asked Lillian to take a seat on one of the sofas. Miles waited for his father to follow and take a seat.
But his father entered the room and said, “I am fine standing.”
“Very well.”
At his words, Lillian sprang up and stood next to Miles on the rug that stretched across half the room. Only five feet away, James wrapped his fingers around the lion of his cane and waited for Miles to speak.
He swallowed, ready to protect himself if need be. He’d been hit enough by the man to know that it was a possibility now. “Never have I loved someone before. Never have I known love ...”
James snickered coldly. “I thought that’s what this might be about.”
“Let me speak.”
“Do so.”
“I am in love with Lillian and plan on making her my bride. And I know that love is not your first concern, but I am not you.”
“Oh, I certainly know that.” He gave Lillian another glance. “Who is this girl, anyway? She’s dressed like a bloody house servant.”
Miles’s jaw tightened as he let go of Lillian’s hand. “You prove my point well. Again, her name is Miss Lillian Turner. Her father owns the Smythun.”
James’s face contorted as if he’d eaten a rotten piece of trout from the river. “The cesspit on High Street?”
“How dare you,” Lillian said.
His father let out a cackle, not even acknowledging that Lillian had spoken. “And you think you’re going to marry her. I have to say, you show tremendous bravado to even joke about such matters in front of me.”
“There is no joking here,” Miles snapped. “I have come here— we have come here—to ask for your blessing before we leave for London tomorrow.”
“You think you’re going to London together? I’m sure you know you’ve wasted your time.”
Miles stood even straighter. “I thought I would give you the opportunity to redeem yourself. I certainly do not need your blessing. I am a man now and will do as I please.”
“Ha. You will certainly not marry this ... this hussy. How dare you bring her into my house.”
Miles stepped forward. “You will not speak of her this way!”
Lillian sensed what might be coming and stepped forward as well. “Mr. Pemberton—”
“Lord Pemberton, dammit.”
“Lord Pemberton, I know that I am not who you might have hoped for your daughter-in-law. It is true my family does not have the wealth or status that you would like, but if it is of any consequence, I can love your son more than any other. And take care of him.”
“Take care of him? With what? You’ll put him to work behind the bar. Pouring beer. My son?”
“He can do whatever he likes, and he will be great at it.” Lillian stayed impressively calm, smiling at Miles in a way that made him believe her words.
“His future is already written,” James said, his pupils narrowing to darkness, “and you’re not in it.”
Miles stepped forward. “Do not speak to her that way, Father.”
James moved his hard eyes to Miles. “You’re wasting your time. Take this person back to Winchester and report back to this house instantly.”
“That’s not the way it works. We are leaving here together and will be on our way to London tomorrow.”
James looked even more surprised. “You’re threatening me? My little eighteen-year-old is threatening me. What would you do in London? Entertain me with that answer.”
“I will be an actor.”
“Ah, I see. The dream of being Henry Irving again.” He nodded for a while, the smirk on his face turning Miles angrier by the moment.
“And if it doesn’t work, I’ll become a teacher.”
“A teacher? My son?”
“Yes, why not? Or a writer, or a butcher. The world is endless with possibilities.” He glanced at his love. “We can figure it out.”
James brushed a dismissive hand through the air. “I’ve had enough of this. I will have Miss Turner driven back into town.”
Miles stood his ground. “You have heard my stance. She will not be leaving here without me. I wanted you to know our plans. So that we’re clear, I am not asking.”
James used his cane to move forward. The strings of his neck stretched. “You will not threaten me in my house. You will do as you’re told and go up the stairs at once. I will deal with this whore who is trying to get at our money.”
Miles cast a quick glance to Lillian. Rising anger glowed in her eyes, stoking Miles’s own fury and resolve. To his father, he said, “You will apologize to her this instant, you bastard.”
“For calling your whore a whore?”
Though his body tensed to a near breaking point, Miles resisted every urge to hit his father. He did not want to be like him, resorting to violence. He’d done what he needed to do, and he was ready to leave.
Turning to Lillian, Miles said, “Please forgive him. I am ashamed to be his son. We’ve done what we should do, and now it’s time to—”
James swatted at Miles with a heavy right hand, nearly knocking him to the floor. Lillian let out a scream.
The rage that had been simmering inside Miles for all these years erupted, and he lunged at his father. James lifted one hand and his cane to protect himself, but it was too late. Miles barreled into him, knocking him up against a chair before bringing him to the ground.
For the first time in his life, Miles swung back at his father, smacking him in the mouth. “You will never disrespect her again.”
Though his father had an injured leg, the man had a strength that allowed him to roll Miles over and get him into a headlock. Miles felt his father’s arm go tight around his neck, and he grew dizzy as he lost his breath. No matter how hard he fought, he could not take in any air, and his limbs grew weak and ...
Lillian appeared above them and dropped a vase down over James’s head. It shattered into a hundred pieces as it drew a deep cut of blood on the side of the man’s head. He howled in pain, weakening long enough for Miles to escape his grasp. Miles sucked in air and felt himself come back to life.
He threw several punches that didn’t land, and the two men wrestled on the rug, the thump of their hearts and the smack of their bodies on the floor shaking the room. Screaming obscenities, Lillian did her best to pull James apart from Miles, but he pushed her away. James’s aggression toward Lillian only incited Miles more, and he finally landed a strong punch to his father’s mouth.
“You are dead to me,” his father spat with blood-coated teeth. “You and the whore.”
“Get off him!” a voice growled from behind them.
Gasping for air, Miles glanced over his shoulder to see Edward standing there pointing a rifle at him. Edward’s eyes carried a lifetime of hatred for his brother.
James pushed Miles away and wiped the blood from his face.
Lillian stood frozen with her hands in front of her in a fighting position, her face showing more fight than fear. She looked from the gun to Edward to Miles. As their eyes met, Miles thought that all they had to do was escape this madness, and then they could move on with their lives. They were so close to escaping their prison.
“Stand up,” Edward barked, stepping over the broken vase toward Miles. “I’ve no qualms with shooting you.”
Miles turned back to his brother. Deciding it best to defuse the situation, he fumbled up to his feet, his whole body hurting. “You don’t need the gun. We’re leaving.”
Edward pointed the gun at his chest while James reached for his cane and attempted to push himself up off the floor.
Something about the malevolent twitch that suddenly arose in Edward’s eyes convinced Miles that he would shoot. He could feel the eagerness of his brother’s trigger finger, his propensity for violence. He had to do something.
As he prepared to launch at Edward, a flash of movement caught his eye. Lillian rushed forward, charging for the gun. Miles raced to stop her, but it was too late.
Edward diverted his aim to Lillian in a quick motion and pulled the trigger. Lillian crashed hard to the ground with a smack. Rivulets of blood splattered onto the floor.
“Noooooo!” Miles raced to her side, sliding next to her on his knees. A pool of blood gathered on the tile as he scooped her up.
A cavity of emptiness manifested in his gut as the prospect of losing whom he cared for most in the world presented itself.
“Lillian,” he said, begging for her to be all right, his whole body swelling with agony.
Her lips moved and relief flooded him. He was too shocked to be angry, so shocked he could barely hear his brother shouting, “She had it coming!”
“I love you,” Lillian whispered with blood on her tongue. In her eyes, he saw her unshakable spirit, and yet the rest of her grew weaker by the moment. The color in her cheeks dissolved. Her lips quivered.
“You’re not going anywhere. You’re just fine.” Tears pricked his eyes; his body went numb.
A beautiful and loving smile crossed her face. One of pure awareness, as if she’d seen God. “I love you,” she said again.
“I love you too,” he said, breaking apart inside.
Refusing to lose her, he searched for the wound. She was hit in the chest, above her right breast. He pulled back the fabric to see blood pouring out. He pressed a hand against the wound, her warm blood spilling out through his fingers.
“Call a doctor,” he said, but the words came out as a croak.
He looked up to find his brother standing like a statue, the gun still smoking.
“Call a doctor, dammit!”
Edward didn’t acknowledge him. Miles twisted to his father as the blood coming escaped the sides of where he held his hands. “Father, call a doctor.”
With one hand resting on his cane, James stared back blankly.
Miles returned his attention to Lillian. His overdriven brain scrambled for answers. As he looked into her fading eyes, he sensed her life leaving her body. And then it happened. In one second the love of his life was there, and then she wasn’t, her soul vanishing into nothing. Her eyes were wide open, but she wasn’t there.
“No ...,” he said. “No, don’t go.” Loss cascaded through him, tearing at what was left of him like vultures. He gathered her head in his arms and searched her eyes for signs of life. “Lillian, stay with me. Don’t go ...”
With one hand still covering the wound, he felt fruitlessly for her breath. She was gone, and every part of him knew that.
But it didn’t stop him from yelling, “Call for a doctor!”
A door opened, and the valet came rushing through. “What happ—” He stopped in his tracks when he saw Lillian lying there dead.
“Send for the doctor,” Miles begged, but it was too late. The hurt in his heart was like nothing he’d known before, a cavernous loss that pummeled him over and over like his father’s fists.
With a racing heart and blurry eyes, he reached up and pulled her lifeless body onto his lap. Blood soaked his clothes. Her face had already begun to turn purple, but he took her in, all of her, in a flash seeing the times he’d had with her—the times when he’d felt the most alive in his life. He stared into her eyes, wishing her to come back, but she wasn’t there at all. Her spirit, her laugh, her thirst for life ...
All gone.
He slid her lids closed and held her there for what felt like a long time, what felt like forever, and in those agonizing minutes, he lost her over and over again, the life of him being drained out, his body going numb.
When a smidge of clarity returned to him, he twisted his head toward Edward. “You will swing for this.”
Edward looked past Miles to James. “Someone will.”
Footsteps sounded behind him, and Miles turned. The last thing he saw was a flash of gold from the lion’s-head handle.
Then nothing.