Chapter Fourteen #2
“He used you, Mother.” Phillip regarded her for a long moment. “He is no longer welcome in any of my houses, and if I ever see him again, I will kill him.”
“You would never.” Cassandra glared at him.
“I will. Mark my words.” With that final stab into her already bleeding heart, Phillip left.
Cassandra collapsed into the chair, staring at the fire.
Mrs. Mackenzie entered the room silently, placing a tray on the table. No doubt she had heard the raised voices and understood most, if not all, of the conversation. Fortunately, she left the food and retreated from the room without a word, leaving Cassandra in peace.
Peace. An unfamiliar term.
Cassandra had lived her whole life in fear. In uncertainty. In pain. What was peace? She knew nothing of such a state of existence. But she craved it—with her whole heart.
Phillip had abandoned her, but where was Reuben?
She rose from the chair and wandered the house, searching for any sign of Reuben. But there was none.
Her son’s words came to her in a haunting refrain. “He is no longer welcome in any of my houses.”
Cassandra collapsed on the staircase and sobbed.
Reuben was gone.
*
Upon his return to London, Reuben returned to the ducal mansion only to retrieve his meager belongings.
Everything he owned fit neatly into one valise.
He encountered none of the other servants, which proved to be a blessing in disguise as he detested farewells.
When he left the house, he refused to indulge in one last look at the building where he had spent the last seven years.
As he walked, the cold November air bit his face, but it did not affect him.
He was numb. The entirety of the train journey, Reuben had allowed the events of the last several weeks to replay in his mind.
He wondered if he could have done things differently.
Would it have produced a better outcome?
Or was their relationship truly doomed from the beginning?
Cassandra’s horror-stricken face had been imprinted on his memory. The duke’s bitter, angry threat echoed in his mind. He wished he had pushed harder, fought for her. But the duke’s status and fury stood like a mountain in his path hindering any possibility of repairing the damage he had done.
She now knew his darkest secret. He had killed James. If she chose to tell her son, Reuben’s life would be forfeit. Her son would have him imprisoned and executed. Would she reveal it?
Reuben cut through St. James’s Park. The sun hung low over the city as it sank into early evening. His stomach rumbled, craving something of more substance than a stale loaf of bread. But before he could find lodging and a meal, he needed to see Simon.
By the time he’d reached the front step outside Simon’s home on the edge of Devil’s Acre in Westminster, the sun had relinquished its hold on the sky, casting the city into haunting darkness. He knocked, fully expecting to meet an irritated and somber Simon.
The butler admitted him with a scowl, gesturing for him to wait in the parlor.
He placed his valise on the floor and the traveling bag beside it. Warming himself by the fire, Reuben carefully considered his precarious position.
“Reuben.” Simon’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to find his friend assessing him with an impassive expression. Simon’s gaze found the two pieces of luggage, and his brow arched. “A new development?”
“Yes.”
Simon crossed to the decanter of whisky and poured two glasses. He handed one to Reuben.
“Has the dowager duchess come to her senses?” Simon asked.
“The duke demanded my immediate resignation.”
“I see.” Simon took a drink. “Well, then, perhaps you should start at the beginning.”
Reuben tossed back the liquor and launched into his tale.
He picked up from the last time they had spoken, including a brief description of his blossoming affair with the dowager duchess for context.
Simon said nothing as he revealed his confrontations with the duke, followed by the hasty trip to Scotland.
The more he spoke, the more somber Simon became.
The stunning revelation of the late duke’s secret chamber and the contents within garnered a response.
“There were jars of human remains?” Simon snarled in distaste.
“Yes.” Reuben retrieved his travel bag and pulled the small jar from deep inside. He held it up, allowing the light to filter through the murky contents.
Simon took the container and held it closer to the light. The sediment settled revealing the discolored remains of a human eye as it rotated suspended in the viscous liquid. Hannah’s blue eye.
Simon scowled at the contents before a frown replaced it. He set the jar aside and retreated to the fireplace, then rested his hand on the mantel.
“How many?” Simon’s question broke the silence.
“At least a hundred.”
“And Her Grace’s reaction?”
“Horrified.” Reuben confirmed. “Then her son arrived.”
Simon spun around, his brow furrowed. “He saw it?”
“I assume so.” He shrugged. “I was told to leave before I could confirm that Her Grace had revealed the hidden room and its contents to her son.”
“The duke asked you to leave?”
“Yes.” Reuben cleared his throat. “I was also told in no uncertain terms that my presence was no longer welcome. That if I returned, I would be arrested.”
“You uncovered the truth, revealed it to the light, and have found vindication after all these years.” Simon regarded him thoughtfully. “But you have not found peace.”
“This may have begun as vengeance, but—” Reuben began.
“But you have developed deeper feelings for the dowager.”
“I have.” Reuben dropped his gaze, almost ashamed by his confession. “Living in that house, seeing how he treated her, and knowing his penchant for inflicting pain and suffering… I had to protect her.”
“Does she know the lengths to which you have gone in order to protect her?” Simon inclined his head, no doubt implying his role in the late duke’s untimely death.
“She does. But she does not know that I did it for her.” Reuben shrugged. “I tried to tell her, but I could not bring myself to rip her heart open any further.”
“But she knows of your sister and her husband’s role in her death?”
“Yes.” Reuben ran his hand over his face. “She must believe I acted out of revenge—not love.”
“You love her.” A small smile appeared on Simon’s lips.
“I do. Heaven help me, but I do.” He groaned and paced the room.
“I know I should let her go. I need to leave London, go to America. Start a new life.” He pulled at his hair.
“She deserves better than anything I can offer, and her son loathes me to the point he threatened my life should I return to her. But such a death would be well worth it to kiss her once more.”
“I see.” Simon stroked his jaw. “It sounds like you have a difficult decision to make.”
Reuben hung his head in defeat, knowing whatever decision he made would alter the course of his life.
“I release you from your debt, Reuben. No longer are you bound to me and the Bloody Talons.” He rested his hand on Reuben’s shoulder. “Whatever choice you make, it will be the path you were meant to follow.”
“I—Thank you, Simon.” Reuben’s voice cracked.
“Take this.” Simon reached into his pocket and withdrew a roll of bills. “Use it to take the next steps.”
“I cannot accept it.” Reuben pushed his hand away. “You have already done so much for me and my brothers.”
Simon tucked the money back into his pocket. “If you choose to go to America, I have connections in New York City. They can help you find a position.”
“Another gang?” Reuben asked, unwilling to tie himself to another group with illegal activities.
“No. A businessman and friend,” Simon assured him.
“Thank you.” Reuben extended his hand, and Simon shook it.
“I wish you the best,” Simon replied with sincerity.
With the jar in Simon’s care and his debt resolved, Reuben took his leave. He hailed a hansom cab and gave the driver directions to Whitechapel.
As the carriage rolled down the streets of London, Reuben allowed his mind to venture into the dark recesses of his mind, where the bloody memories of his sister resided.
No longer did the need for vengeance rule his life as they had for years.
The truth had been brought to light, and Hannah’s soul could finally rest in peace.
Reuben was finally free of his debt and his promise for revenge.
The carriage passed by the familiar row of small, decaying homes filled with poor families with no prospects of hope for a brighter future. He remembered what it was like living in a similar place with his sister and brothers. How they had scraped and begged and slaved just to survive.
Those days were gone. His sister finally at peace. His brothers successful and thriving. They did not need to be drawn into the past with his unexpected arrival, only to bid them farewell forever. No, he could finally let them go.
He paused, absorbed in examining his own life, and found it severely lacking with no direction. A life devoid of love and joy.
Reuben frowned. The time for change had arrived, and the world lay before him like a bag of coin ripe for the taking.
But all he could think of was how much he missed Cassandra.
Regret became his constant companion as he searched for a place to lay his head.