Chapter 33
The next day, Thane bathed, shaved, and dressed for the first time since the fire.
He was going to Cat’s house, and he wanted to look like a respectable man while he was there.
With his luck, he’d be turned away at the door, but at least he would have tried.
And that should keep Struan from exacting the physical punishment he threatened.
Not that Thane really believed his friend would ever do such a thing.
When he knocked on the door, the footman not only didn’t kick him to the curb, he gave a cordial bow as he ushered Thane in. “Good day, sir. Mrs Murray has been hoping you’d call. Won’t you come to the study? The usual room is unavailable,” he added with a meaningful look.
So Tacita wished to see him? Was she intending to tell him to never approach Cat again? He’d understand if that was the woman’s stance. If he hadn’t first lied to Cat and then told the truth in exactly the wrong way, she never would have fled the Highlands and been at risk in her own home.
They passed the main parlor, which still stank of smoke.
The study was more or less unscathed, perhaps because it was in the back corner.
He walked to the doors to the garden, which were open to allow the breeze in.
He remembered when he’d come upon Cat practicing her speech in the garden.
How defiant and how utterly enchanting she’d been.
God, to be able to go back to that moment.
“Mr MacPhearson,” Tacita’s familiar voice came to him. “I am glad you called on us.”
He turned to see the older woman smiling at him, her arm out to indicate that he should take a seat. “Tea?” she inquired.
“No, thank you, ma’am.” he said, feeling like a schoolboy for some reason.
“Catriona is asleep, I am afraid. She’s recovering but seems to require much rest.”
He nodded, though he suspected that it was just a polite lie to account for Cat’s refusal to see him at all. “She must do whatever she thinks is best for her.”
“Oh, she does,” Tacita said with a light laugh that still somehow held a little sadness. “Usually, that is.”
“I am returning to Kinlochlie,” he said, too abruptly.
He saw her blink at the news, which he had intended to lead up to.
Clearly, he had yet to master a simple social conversation.
“What I meant was, I wished to verify that you and Miss Ross had all that you required before I left town. After the…recent event, I imagine that you have not yet found…” He trailed off.
“Equilibrium?” Tacita supplied.
“Something like that,” he said, nodding gratefully for her ability to decipher his bumbling words.
“It’s true that life is not quite back to routine. But we’re trying. It will be a relief to be on an even keel again.”
“May I assist you at all?”
Tacita shook her head. “You have done more than we could have imagined, you and your companions.”
Her tone was kind, excruciatingly so, so Thane had to conclude that the woman didn’t imagine exactly what Thane had done to—with—Cat.
“Well, if you do require anything, anything at all, I hope you will write to me at Kinlochlie. I will be at your service.” He stood up, feeling that awkward sense of ending. Of having said his last line, but not yet off the stage.
“Must you leave so soon?” Tacita asked, still sitting. She probably never felt awkward. The woman seemed to have a very strong sense of—what was it—equilibrium.
“I have a number of tasks to complete before I travel,” he said, even though that number was in fact laughably small.
“Perhaps you would care to look in on Catriona before you go.”
“You said she was asleep?” he said, surprise making it a question.
“Yes, but I thought it would do you good to just see her face. To reassure yourself that she will be well.”
Thane did want that, very much. He was desperate to see her. “I don’t wish to…presume.” As if he hadn’t already presumed far more than that.
“Oh, Mr MacPhearson, after all we have been through, after all you have done for Cat, it’s not a matter of presumption. She would be sad if you did not.”
He doubted that, but it was obvious that Tacita thought him far better than he was. “In that case, I’ll look in on her. Shall we?” He offered his hand to help her up.
Tacita waved him off. “Too many people would bother her. You may go on your own. You know the way, of course.”
Why did this feel like a trap? Thane couldn’t imagine the lady setting him up to be cornered by Cat so that she could once again tell him how little she thought of him. Perhaps she’d written a new speech just for the occasion.
No, Tacita would never be an accomplice to something mean. So Thane went up the stairs, still wary as if heading into an ambush. No servants were about. Not unusual…but still disquieting.
Cat’s door was not fully closed, probably so that Tacita or the maids could enter without disturbing her rest. He pushed the door open and slid in, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness.
Everything was in shadow, the furniture merely a suggestion, all edges smoothed by the darkness. He saw the bed, but couldn’t discern anything more. He moved closer. He just wanted to see her face. Then he would leave.
He was practically touching the bedpost when a voice came from the deepest shade. “Who is it?” A figure shifted and sat up in the bed. “Thane?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. Tacita told me you were sleeping. I just wanted to see you before I left the city.”
She blinked, as if coming slowly out of slumber. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes. I’m returning to the Highlands. I came to say goodbye.”
“How could you say goodbye if I was asleep?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.
” Other than that it might be easier to say goodbye to her while she was sleeping…
and that he needed one last look at her.
“If I knew you were awake, I wouldn’t have intruded.
I’ll go.” He half turned, cursing his luck.
Why could he never know what to say to Cat?
Why can’t we ever keep what we love?
“Wait,” Cat said, stopping him in his tracks.
“I don’t believe you, that you simply wanted to say goodbye.
You always have a purpose, Thane MacPhearson.
Did you come to find out if I’m carrying your child, so that you can offer for me to save the bairn from life as a bastard?
” She spoke softly, with no rancor or rage.
With nothing, really. Not at all like the Cat he knew, who spoke with passion whether she was discussing politics, or dreams, or breakfast.
“You needn’t worry,” she continued, looking at the curtained window instead of at him. “As of this morning, I know I’m not.”
He winced. Bitterness he could take. Not the deadness in her tone.
He swallowed hard, then said, “That’s not why I came here.
I didn’t even think…that is, I assumed you’d tell me if…
Christ, why do I assume anything when you’re involved?
” He sighed. “Anyway, if you do need something from me, you only have to ask. You should know that.”
“I think I’ve asked for quite enough. Haven’t I nearly gotten you killed?”
“You didn’t. The people who came at me were really just trying to kill you. And you know I don’t stand for that sort of thing.” Keep it light, he told himself. If he got too serious, or too sincere, he’d drown.
“No, you don’t.”
God, he hated to hear her so…lifeless.
“I really must go,” he said again. But he didn’t move.
“It’s good you’re here.”
“It is?” Hope was a nigh-unkillable thing, and it leapt again in his heart.
“Yes. There was something I’d meant to send you. Go to my desk,” she ordered. “There’s an envelope there, with Kai’s handwriting on it. Look inside. You’ll need to light a candle.”
Thane frowned, but did as she asked. He pulled a few sheets of paper out the envelope, and recognized the wording of a formal military report. He’d written dozens in his own career, and read hundreds more.
Now he read this one, and was suddenly thrown back into the war, to the night he always tried to forget.
It was a report written by one of his superior officers regarding the fiasco of the mission that Brodie had begged to take from Thane.
Much of the information felt familiar—far too much—but he saw that a passage had been underlined in bright red ink.
He read the last, crucial phrase aloud, “‘…acting on information discovered by Lieutenant Fairchild.’”
Cat’s mouth actually pulled into a twisted half smile.
“A common name, but it sounds different now, doesn’t it?
Something Mrs Fairchild said to me that night stuck in my mind.
She said the plan had worked well up till me.
I kept thinking about it, and when Kai stopped by a few days ago, I asked him to find any information about Brodie’s death, no matter how trivial. ”
“Kai is damn good at finding anything his company needs,” Thane murmured.
“I can’t prove it, of course. And with Lieutenant Fairchild dead, we’ll probably never know.
But I suspect that he engineered Brodie’s death by inventing the false witness and the timing of the supposed meeting, knowing that Brodie had better German than you and that he’d want to go in place of you on the mission.
I suspect he made sure Brodie heard about it.
Whatever happened, Brodie’s death wasn’t your fault.
Even if you had gone that time, Fairchild would have tried something else.
Just as Miss Fairchild tried with me. They were the only people to blame for all that happened. Not you, Thane.”
He read the words over and over, while Cat’s words trickled into his brain. If this was true… “Why didn’t Kai let me know this?”
“He only just got it. It arrived in the post this morning. I asked to see the information first, and then I planned to send it on to you if it revealed anything useful. And I think it did.”