Chapter Fourteen
Evan wasn’t going to give quarter—couldn’t. Barely could he wrap his head around everything he’d read, out of all he’d been cheated from. “No right,” he repeated as his mind spun. “She was my daughter too.”
“I realize that, but I can’t go back to the past and change anything.
” As if her knees would no longer support her weight, Hannah collapsed into a winged-back chair.
“Believe me, I would have done so in a heartbeat if only to circumvent this terrible pain, this grief, I have held inside, have gone through alone all these years.” Not only were the shadows back in her eyes, but an infinite sadness had been unmasked there that tugged at his heart.
The tightness in his chest continued. There were no words he could think of that would make the situation better. His world had been sent spinning. In fact, it felt as if he’d received a sucker pun to the gut and couldn’t recover.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were increasing before I left for the Navy?”
“To be honest, I didn’t know until a week after you’d gone.
There were symptoms, of course, but I merely thought it was a general lurgy that goes ‘round during the autumn.” Nothing except truth shone in her expression.
“When I continued to feel ill, I’d wondered if pregnancy could have caused it; a midwife confirmed it for me another week later. ”
“Yet you still didn’t write to me.” How could she have kept something so important from him?
“And where would I have sent the letter, Evan?” Annoyance warred with exhaustion in her voice.
“Your ship had already left England. If I had posted the letter, sent it to the naval office here in London, it would have sat in piles of other letters, accumulating until you and your crew returned or until you ported somewhere longer than a week.”
Also true. He nodded but couldn’t look at her. Instead, he focused his gaze on the letters in his hands, retrieved the leather folio from the floor then stuffed the papers inside. “How did Charlotte die?”
“Please don’t make me relive those days,” she said in a choked whisper.
Only then did he glance at her in time to see the tears welling in her eyes, and that sign of her distress cut him to the quick, tore him up all over again inside.
“You must; I deserve to know. Charlotte was a part of us both, and since I have been ignorant about her, you can at least tell me about her brief life.”
“Very well.” Slowly, she nodded, and when tears fell to her cheeks, he grudgingly handed her his handkerchief.
“Charlotte came into my life at a time when I was at my lowest… well, lowest to that point; I knew depths of darkness so deep after that I had no knowledge about before.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth.
“In any event, I was so happy knowing I was increasing, anticipating the babe’s arrival, for it would be someone who would rely solely on me, who would love me unconditionally, who would never leave… ”
When her voice broke, Evan wanted to shatter, for his own emotions were near the surface and just as fragile.
“But then she did, and I’ll wager you lost yourself for a time after that.
” It was like sliding pieces of a puzzle into place, and because of that, he could almost see what happened to her while he’d been away at sea.
“Yes.” She kept her gaze on her hands in her lap, her fingers twisting the handkerchief.
“Oh, she was such an easy baby! So cute with red ringlets and blue eyes like yours.” Only then did she meet gaze.
“Such a happy soul, fascinated by bright colors as well as her toes. And she made the dearest little infant coos and snorts.”
Knowing he would never see her or hear those sounds for himself stole his breath. “How did she feel in your arms? For that matter, how did you keep her secret from your family?”
The smile Hannah allowed was slight and watery.
“She adored snuggling, and she was so small, but she fit perfectly in my arms. The smell of her skin… I can’t explain it.
” She shook her head. “As for keeping her presence secret? Well, no one visited my father’s townhouse; I only had a couple of friends, and since they’d married during their Seasons, they were busy.
The elderly companion my parents sent—really my great aunt—had her own circle of friends, who filled her time; she was rarely around, and when she was, she was asleep. ”
“What happened when the babe cried?”
“I told my aunt she was hearing things… when she did, for she was deaf in one ear. I never thought about the future, figured fate would step in and take care of it…” Silence brewed between them. “My girl lived for six glorious months.”
“Our girl,” he said in a barely audible voice.
“Yes.” A half-stifled sob followed. “One morning I went in to check on her because she hadn’t cried for milk in a while…
She was so still.” Dabbing at the corners of her eyes with the handkerchief.
“And cold,” she said in a tearful tone. “Nothing I did would rouse the baby, and then I checked. She wasn’t breathing, probably had died an hour or two before. ”
“What happened next?” He could barely force out the words, but he had to know.
“I held her; how could I not? Then I frantically sent for the midwife. Time ceased to have meaning after that. I cried and sobbed, even after the midwife removed Charlotte from my arms. Apparently, such deaths happened. Babies just stop breathing. There was no explanation for it and no reason; death just took perfectly healthy infants.”
“God, I’m so sorry.” Though he fought against the emotion rising in his chest and the ball of tears sitting heavy in his throat, he needed to know that last of it. “What became of you in the years following Charlotte’s passing?”
Hannah shrugged. “I didn’t want to live.
Existing was far too much for me, and I became what my family and friends thought—ill and bedridden.
When my father died, I couldn’t stay abreast of the horrible feelings.
I was empty inside and missing both of my parents as well as my baby.
And you.” She sought out his gaze as she cried.
“I wanted a change of scenery, wanted to travel to America, but with the war and naval blockades, that was impossible, so I remained in London.”
“Understandable.” He’d been involved in some of those maneuvers before orders took him to the Caribbean.
“Then I felt guilty for not telling you of our daughter’s death. Time slipped away and it was far too late and awkward to write, but I penned the letter anyway hoping it might provide a history and help to soothe my soul. It did not. There was an emptiness there that nothing could soothe.”
“So you became a courtesan.” It wasn’t a question.
“It was a way to help forget many things, and also a way to ensure that I would never again let anyone too close. It helped as a distraction, for I didn’t want to open myself up to feelings. Everything is too painful once emotions are involved.”
“Unfortunately, those are true words, and ones I’ve found myself living over the years.
” After setting the folio on the bureau top, Evan moved to stand directly in front of her.
“Yet we are human. We can’t avoid feeling things no matter how much we try, for something always comes along to chip away at those walls or pick at those locks. ”
She peered up at him. “Eventually, I became numb to everything. Nothing brought me joy. I went through my life because I was obligated to, but without my baby?” Another wash of tears filled her eyes. “Everything paled. I was no longer living.”
“Just existing,” he whispered, for he knew exactly what she meant.
“I felt the same way after losing my best friend in a skirmish.” Taking one of her hands, he encouraged her into a standing position.
The handkerchief fluttered to the floor.
“Grief is fucking difficult at times.” Perhaps the use of the vulgarity would help solidify the point.
“We can only do what we can, and then hope for the best.”
“I miss her so much, Evan.” Tears continued to fall. “It’s been such a long time of having this empty void inside me, and when you came back to London…” She shook her head. “I feared you would rip the lid off that, and I’d suffer through everything all over again.”
He held her gaze, even as his resolve not to show his own emotions crumbled.
“There is no time limit on grief, Anna. Losing anyone, let alone a child, will leave its mark, and you will carry those memories with you forever.” His voice caught.
“At least you have those. I don’t, and I don’t even know what Charlotte looked like.
I’ll never know what she felt like, will never be able to peer into her eyes, her face, never hold her in my arms… ”
“I’m so sorry. I should have found a way to tell you, to reach you.
” Then she pushed away from him, went into her armoire, pulled out a slim drawer.
Seconds later, she returned to him with a small, thin, linen-covered book in her hand.
“When I was young, I adored drawing, and I used those skills to capture Charlotte on paper.”
“I had no idea…” As soon as he opened the book, which consisted of perhaps ten pieces of paper, he sucked in a breath, for Hannah had captured the baby’s essence in those drawings.
“Christ, but she was a beautiful infant.” He traced the sketches with his fingertip, could just imagine what she looked like in real life.
“She resembled me a bit… and you.” The last picture in the book had been painted with watercolors.
Seeing the babe’s red hair and slightly pink completion, cherub-chubby cheeks, as well as the intensity of her blue eyes sent every ounce of composure out of him.
Then, a small curl of red hair fell out of the back of the book, tied off with a faded yellow ribbon.
Hannah’s chin quivered. “I cut one of her curls to remember her by.”