Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
I awoke to an indescribably awful noise.
An unearthly screeching resonated throughout the manor. Half-dressed, I flew out of bed, closely followed by Sunaria.
We found Rachel in the living room with a violin positioned under her chin.
“Hello.” She grinned at us, seemingly unaware of the terrible racket she had made.
I raised my eyebrows. “Hello.”
“Look what Marcus bought me.” She raised the instrument triumphantly into the air.
“Remind me to thank him.” I couldn’t hide the sarcasm. “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to practice? Like, France.”
Sunaria stifled a laugh.
Rachel dropped the violin to her side. “You don’t like it?”
“Let’s get you an instructor.” I winked at Sunaria. “I’m sure we’ll find one across town.”
Sunaria strolled over to the window and moved the curtain aside. “It’s dark already, but it’s still so early.”
“It gets darker earlier in the winter,” Rachel said.
I joined Sunaria by the window. “So England does have its benefits.”
Outside was the usual hustle and bustle of Belgravia – carriages rolling by, children playing catch and annoying the street merchants. I turned my attention back to Rachel. There was something familiar about her instrument. I gestured for her to hand me the violin.
Clutching the neck, I tweaked the peg box, strumming the strings to check the pitch, and breathed in the woody fragrance.
I admired the walnut form and ran my fingers along the delicate curves.
Music vibrated through me. I rested my chin on the black rest and the fingers of my left hand positioned naturally on the fingerboard. With my right hand, I slid the bow.
The violin rejoiced, responding to my touch, a violinist’s interpretation as music flowed with the perfect sequence, moving past what I’d heard and straying from the familiar, articulating timbre and texture, composing notes, and conveying emotions, a cadence of extraordinary intimacy.
Swaying now, I disappeared inside the melody and became the music.
Savoring the final note, I came back.
An eerie stillness descended on the room.
“Will you teach me to play like that?” Rachel eventually whispered.
Sunaria frowned. “I didn’t know you could play the violin.”
I held the instrument at arm’s length, trying to ascertain what had just happened. “I can’t.”
“He played the violin, didn’t he?” Sunaria’s tone was edgy.
The bow slipped from my fingers.
An awful memory stirred of being shackled to the wall, deep within the dungeons of Blackfriars, below where we stood now, haunted by the music of this very instrument, awaiting my next torture, and full of fear that it would never end.
“Delacroix.” His name caught in my throat. I swung the violin and smashed it against the wall, sending splinters flying.
Rachel’s face fell and tears welled up in her eyes. I stared down at the scattered pieces. Sunaria looked over at me incredulously.
I cleared my throat and tried to reclaim some decorum. “I’ll, um, get you another one, Rachel. This one appears to have a flaw.”
Rachel gathered the walnut fragments and Sunaria assisted her. The tip of my shoe tapped the discarded bow and Sunaria pulled it out of my reach.
I felt dazed.
Marcus crashed through the door and stared at me wide-eyed. He gazed down at what had once been a violin.
“I’ll get her another one,” I said.
Marcus approached me. “I’ve found him.”
“What?”
“Jacob.” Marcus nodded. “I know where he is.”
We never know when the moment we've been hoping for will arrive, but when it does, it strangely leaves us bereft, unsure if it's real or just an imagined dream.
If I could have willed Marcus to go faster, I would have done so. We flew over the rooftops, quickly arriving at Number 12, Petherton Road, nestled in the hamlet of Newington Green.
Marcus and Sunaria waited for me across the street, shielded in the shadows of an alley. Using darkness as my cover, I approached the townhouse and peered into the half-open window. Meager candlelight vacillated within the sparse room.
I’d found Jacob.
I bit into my hand, stifling a sob. I wanted to burst in and grab him.
Jacob, now ten years old, appeared well.
He sat at a wooden bench, pummeling into the base of a small basin.
Close by sat a man in his fifties, studying the contents of several books that he’d balanced on his lap.
He had a wise, kind face and a serene demeanor.
I turned back to see Sunaria staring at me, her eyes full of hope. When she saw my expression, her face lit up.
With pride, I studied Jacob, reassured that he’d found a safe haven.
He appeared content. Jacob resembled his mother even more now, an uncanny reminder of Annabelle and a painful reminder of his elder brother.
He’d grown in height, evidence of being well cared for, and his modest attire was smart.
His warm clothes were perfect for another harsh English winter.
I felt thankful to the gentleman for taking such good care of him.
Jacob jumped off his chair, approached his mentor, and topped up his cup. His reward was a warm smile. They both resumed their activities.
Fearful that I’d start sobbing with joy, I rejoined Marcus and Sunaria in the alleyway.
With my hand on my chest, I tried to steady my nerves.
The relief was immense. In a moment, I’d burst into that house and grab him, but first I had to think it through, work out how I’d explain myself to the fresh-faced boy who may have forgotten me.
Didn’t want to frighten him and push him away.
“Jacob’s the physician’s assistant,” Marcus explained. “His name is Doctor Potts.”
“How did you find him?” I asked.
“The old man made a late-night call to a patient,” Marcus continued. “Jacob was with him.”
Sunaria looked harried. “Marcus doesn’t think you should remove him.”
“What? Why?” Disconcerted, I stared back up at the window. “We have servants that can watch over him when I can’t.”
“He’s settled here,” Marcus said.
“This is none of your business,” Sunaria snapped.
“I’ve been searching for him as well,” Marcus said, sulkily.
Sunaria folded her arms. “Then you know the best place for him is with his father.”
“Wait, wait,” I interrupted. “What’s brought this on?”
“What if the Creda come back?” Marcus asked.
“Get Jacob and let’s go,” Sunaria insisted.
“Jacob is getting an education,” Marcus said.
“He doesn’t need to work, we can take care of him,” Sunaria’s voice rose with her impatience.
I leaned against the wall. “Does the physician have a wife?”
“I haven’t seen anyone other than them,” Marcus said.
“We’ve waited this long,” Sunaria said. “We’re not leaving him here.”
My inability to watch over him before had put him in danger and I’d lost him. The thought of making the wrong decision again scared me. Running my fingers through my hair, trying to suppress the nagging doubt, I began pacing.
Enemies of ours, known or unknown, could threaten him. My inability to protect my son during the day would leave him exposed.
There was movement at the window. The curtain was drawn closed.
“He’s right.” I felt sadness as I spoke those words, finding truth in them.
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing,” Sunaria said, sucking in her breath. “You think that this place is safe? Being dragged to sick people’s homes? What if he catches something?”
I hesitated. “She does have a point.”
“He’s living with a physician,” Marcus said. “He won’t put the boy in harm’s way.”
“How do you know that?” Sunaria asked. “What if he beats the boy?”
“He looks well cared for.” I glanced back up at the window.
“The old man does appear to have reached a good age,” Marcus said.
“What has that got to do with anything?” Sunaria snapped.
“Well, I was just answering your concern about disease,” he replied. “When he’s old enough for you to explain, he may want to live with you.”
“He will live with me,” I said abruptly.
“I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion.” Sunaria gestured in frustration.
“This day should be glorious,” I said, rubbing my temples, “but instead, it’s torturous.”
“Look, we know where he is now.” Marcus squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s just wait and give this decision some thought.”
I pushed Marcus’ hand off.
“Jacob has found stability,” Marcus continued. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t see him. He’s just safer here.”
I sighed. “If he’s seen at the manor, he could be at risk.”
“You’re seriously considering leaving him here?” Sunaria asked me.
My throat tightened. I felt sick.
Marcus gave me a sympathetic look.
“We’re leaving him here.” I turned away from them. “It’s decided.”
“Why?” Sunaria asked.
“Because this is his home.” My voice sounded strange to me. “I want him to have everything that I can’t give him.”
“What can that old man give him that you can’t?” Sunaria asked, her voice breaking.
“Daylight,” I said.
What kind of father leaves a child abandoned or vulnerable to hidden threats?
Despite having made my decision, I lingered, staring up at the house.
I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him.
Not allowing myself the opportunity to hold him was torture.
It would be an easy thing to break in, seize Jacob, and whisk him off, go through the motions I’d been planning since I’d first stepped foot in London.
Leaving him in the place where I’d found him had not even been an option.
Marcus had planted doubt in my mind, and I hated him for it.
Unaffected by the morning chill, though slightly distracted by a nagging hunger, it dawned on me that I didn’t want to expose Jacob to this life. True love, I realized, was about letting go, freeing those whom we cared most about.
Sunaria had left hours before, too upset to argue anymore, and Marcus had withdrawn soon after, giving me time to think.