Chapter 19 #2
She dug in her heels. “Ty, there are some matters we must discuss.” Her heart threatened the boundary imposed by her rib cage and chest.
His gaze became blank. “Of course. Peter? I’d like a brief moment with my sister.”
Peter bowed. “Take as long as you like.” He left the room.
Eleanor did not hesitate—she ran to the two oak doors and closed them. Panting, she faced Tyrell. “What happened? How is Sean? Did you see him?” she cried.
“Spoken like a true bride,” he said darkly. He turned and poured a large Irish whiskey into a glass.
She ran to face him. “Don’t you dare berate me now for the true love in my heart! I am sorry I do not love Peter, truly, I am! Is Sean all right?”
“He is as well as can be expected, I think,” Tyrell returned flatly. “What the hell happened to him, Eleanor?”
She understood every aspect of the question.
“He was locked up in a small, dark cell, Tyrell, and for two years he did not see, speak or hear anyone. That is, he was very much buried alive. Before that, they tortured him—they flogged him. And before that? I already told you that his wife was deliberately raped and murdered by Reed’s men and that his stepson died in a fire set by those soldiers.
All to pay for his supposed crimes. He is racked with guilt. ”
“He is almost unrecognizable,” Tyrell said slowly, appearing pained.
Eleanor choked. “You should have seen him a week ago, when he could hardly speak a coherent sentence. You should see the scars on his back—you should have seen his eyes—dark, bleak and hopeless.”
Tyrell stared at her. After a pause, he said, “You are doing the right thing by marrying Sinclair.”
She fought tears. “I have no choice. I have made the Devil’s bargain—to marry a man I do not love in order to free the man I do love.”
Tyrell set his now empty glass down and clasped her shoulder. “He has changed, and not for the better. I will always love my stepbrother. But he is not the man for you, Eleanor. He can only bring a woman pain—and I do not think he is capable of the great love you wish for.”
Eleanor was afraid Tyrell was right. But she shook her head and her heart spoke for her.
“Just before he was captured, Sean began to find himself. He began to smile. He started to speak of the past—and to share his demons with me. I know that if I was given the chance to stay with him, I could help him find his way back to all of us. But I am not being given that chance. I am going to marry Peter and Peter’s father is going to obtain that pardon.
And Sean is going to be alone with his scars and wounds.
” She bit off a sob. Who would be there for him now?
“He won’t be alone,” Tyrell said gruffly. “Devlin and Virginia will succor him. We all will.”
No, she thought, unbearably saddened, they would not all succor him—for she would be in Chatton, a loyal and loving wife to another man. She turned away so her brother would not see the depth of her misery.
Tyrell spoke from behind. “This is for the best, Eleanor. I would be afraid for you, if you stayed with the man he has become.”
She whirled. “You are wrong! Sean loves me, and he would still give his life to protect me.”
“A life with him would be so dark and so bleak that he would hurt you more than anything else. You must trust me now.”
She did not tell him that she would give anything to share that dark, bleak life with Sean, even if he did hurt her. “Is he being treated fairly?”
Tyrell nodded. “But it would be best if he were not imprisoned for very long. I do not think he can mentally manage incarceration of any kind now.”
She shivered with fear. “I need to see him.”
“No.”
“I am not asking for your permission. I am telling you that I will go to see him, even if I must do so alone and without escort in the midnight hours of the night!” She glared. “And as I have already suffered unspeakably at Colonel Reed’s hands, it is your duty to make certain I safely visit Sean.”
“You will jeopardize your future with Sinclair!” Tyrell exclaimed.
“No, I won’t. I have lied enough, and I will tell Peter that I must visit Sean.”
And Tyrell capitulated. “Fine. I will take you tomorrow after breakfast.”
ELEANOR HAD ASKED Tyrell to wait outside for her.
As an aide led her to Sean’s cell, she was as eager to see him as she was afraid of what she might find.
When she approached, she saw that he lay on a pallet on the floor, and for one moment, even though it was midmorning, she thought he was asleep.
But it was bright and sunny outside, as if to compensate for the previous day’s downpour, and daylight was pouring into the cell.
Sean’s eyes were open, she realized, and he was staring at the ceiling, his breathing shallow.
Eleanor ran to his cell, crying out. “Sean!”
He suddenly looked at her and then lunged to his feet. “Elle,” he gasped.
Instantly Eleanor saw cuts on his forehead and face. “Please let me inside,” she said to the aide, trying to fight her fear.
“Sorry, no one goes inside,” the solider replied.
“He’s hurt!” she shouted, fury erupting. “He’s ill!”
“He’s mad,” the soldier said. “Crazy like a loon.” He walked away, cell keys jingling, and returned to the anteroom. The door slammed shut behind him.
“He’s right,” Sean said harshly. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Eleanor gripped the bars, facing Sean. She understood his panic and hoped to calm him. “Sean, everything is going to be all right. Tyrell is outside, and in a day or two, you are going to be released.”
His eyes told her he did not believe her. “You shouldn’t have come,” he said. “Did you see Reed?”
“No, I didn’t. Brawley let us in.” She reached through the bars to touch his wet cheek with her fingertips. “I have good news.”
His gaze remained on hers. “What news could you possibly have?”
She fought to smile. “Peter’s father is related to the Prime Minister. He is also in London, seeking your pardon. We are all optimistic, Sean.”
Sean stared, his face hard. In that moment, Eleanor knew he understood what she had done.
She tried not to cry. “I have no choice,” she whispered. “This is a pact, unspoken but a pact nevertheless. His father is fighting for your pardon and when it comes, we will wed.”
“Good,” he said harshly. And his breathing became shallow again.
“Don’t! Take a deep breath, Sean!” she cried. “I love you so much—I would do anything to see you go free.”
He held up his hand. It was shaking. “This is good. This is what I want! You will never wind up…like Peg.”
She couldn’t stand him blaming himself for her death, not for another moment. “You didn’t murder her. You married her—and that is far different. Reed ordered his men to savage her. Reed murdered her.”
He struck out blindly, hitting the iron bars. They rang. “It is my fault. When will you understand? If I hadn’t married her…she wouldn’t have been made to pay for what I did. I was supposed to protect her…I was supposed to love her. I did none of those things!”
“You would have protected her if you had been there that night—I know it, because I know you,” Eleanor cried.
He backed away. “I can’t even see her face anymore. I don’t even remember what she looked like.”
In that instant, she felt his burning pain and all of his raging guilt. “Oh, Sean. You have to let her go. If she really loved you, she would not be blaming you for what happened, and I am certain she loved you very much.”
Sean just stared, and his tears finally fell. Eleanor didn’t know what to do, because she had never seen a man cry like this. So, she waited.
When he spoke, his voice was thick. “She used to look at me with such confusion. She didn’t have to ask, but I knew.… She couldn’t understand why I didn’t love her.”
Eleanor didn’t know what to say. “She was so fortunate to be your wife. I’m sure she felt that way.”
He covered his face with his hands but failed to hide a sob. “Maybe I can forget what I did to Peg…but I can’t ever forget Michael. God, Elle!”
Eleanor stiffened. Sean had only spoken about Michael once before. Suddenly, she realized he hadn’t been able to talk about the little boy. Her senses told her that the child was as much the key to Sean’s torment. “How old was he?”
He met her gaze. “Six.”
“What color was his hair?”
“Red. Wildly red, like the sunset.” More tears fell, but he smiled. “He was a rascal, Elle…always in trouble…but I knew he just wanted my attention.”
She smiled, wiping her eyes. “He adored you, didn’t he?”
Sean nodded, now incapable of speech.
Eleanor reached through the bars. “You can tell me, Sean. Tell me what really happened to him.”
He looked blankly at her. Confusion and anguish covered his face. “That’s just it…I don’t know…no one knows. A sweet, innocent child…he probably died in that fire begging me to come, begging me to save him…waiting for me.… I didn’t come.”
Eleanor reached through the cell bars as he moved closer to them and their palms entwined, clasping.
And then he was leaning against her, the bars between them, weeping in grief, the terrible sounds coming not from his chest, but from his blackened soul.
Eleanor managed to slip her arms through the bars and around him.
“I’m sorry.” There was nothing else to say.
Sean wept and she held him.
And when the tears were finally spent, he was still. He let her hold him awkwardly through the cell for another moment, before he inhaled raggedly and stepped back. Their gazes met. “He was a good boy. I wanted to be his father,” Sean said.
“I know.” Eleanor watched him carefully. She thought he had finally spent his grief and if so, then one good thing had come of this day.
He inhaled again. “I let them both down, Peg and Michael.”
“You did not let anyone down. You tried to stop the uprising, you took your family and fled Kilvore, and you could not have known the soldiers would seek revenge on your family in the adjacent town.”