Chapter 24
“What did you say? Marta is alive?” Kit’s voice came out ragged, the anger quickly vanishing. “How… how do you know that?”
He rose from the floor, where he had been ready to continue his fistfight with Cassian. He walked around as if in a trance, still shocked by Juliana’s announcement. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on his distraught face, making it look skeletal.
Kit’s eyes turned toward the ceiling as if he could see through stone and timber to Marta there. Did he know where she was hidden?
No, he cannot possibly know that.
“I… I am sorry, Cassian. I know I should not have said anything, but…” Juliana admitted, her eyes darting to her husband, who had managed to rise from the floor, cane in hand. The two grandmothers had also stopped swatting each other. “But yes, Marta lives with us.”
Her eyes also turned to the ceiling. The position was not exact, Marta being in the West Tower, but the glance still provided a general direction toward the young lady who had chosen to eschew public life.
“What have you done, Juliana?” Cassian asked, his voice betraying his pain. The pain in his leg was also evident. It made Juliana want to come to his aid, but she knew he would hate to look weak. However, his eyes revealed his raw, naked fear.
Not for himself.
For Marta.
“I had to do something to stop you two!” Juliana protested, her heart pounding in her chest. The rhythm was almost painful, as if it would make her chest explode.
Panic at the prospect of losing the fragile connection she had with both Cassian and Marta overwhelmed her.
Still, she merely wanted Kit to stop his impending assault on her husband. She did not want him hurt.
“Are you telling me the truth?” Kit was still half-crazed as he looked at his sister.
“She is here, Kit,” she admitted. “She has been living like a ghost, but she is here.”
Kit transformed before their eyes. He had come with the lethargy of a drunkard, but the bitterness quickly fell away as he turned his back to them and bolted out, without much of a sense of direction. He did not care that he stepped on the whiskey and the bits of pot roast on the floor.
“Marta!” His voice rang through the dining hall, raw and desperate and entirely without dignity. “Marta, I am here! I am coming for you!”
“Wait, Kit, wait!” Juliana yelled, but he had been quick and was out of the dining hall as fast as a slightly inebriated man could be.
His voice echoed through the grand hall at least, giving them a clue to his current location.
He was, indeed, headed for the West Wing.
He kept on calling Marta’s name with a mix of elation and desperation.
But he was already gone, his voice ricocheting off the stone walls of the grand hall. She could hear him stumbling and pressing on regardless, his calls for Marta taking on a frantic, almost feverish quality.
“Marta! It is Kit! Can you hear me? Marta!”
“Seize him!” Cassian roared, red in the face.
Juliana knew he had to be frustrated, unable to run after his brother-in-law, who was running amok in his home. He stepped forward, and his face immediately contorted with pain. He braced himself on the table to keep his balance. His knuckles turned white as he yelled to the footmen.
“Find him and restrain him. Do not let him near the West Wing. Throw him out of Stonevale if you must!”
The liveried footmen began to move, some with straight backs and long strides, while others ran.
Juliana watched the scene unfold with horror.
She stepped closer to the door and followed the footmen tentatively.
Then she saw them tackle Kit at the bottom of the grand staircase.
The baron fought wildly, kicking and snarling like a cornered animal while still yelling Marta’s name.
His screams became sobs as four footmen finally secured him on the ground, pulling his arms behind his back.
Then they pulled him up and dragged him toward the front doors.
It was not how Juliana wanted the dinner to end, to say the least. Cassian limped into the hall, breathing heavily.
She noted how he leaned on his cane. It made her chest hurt to see him like this.
He had done so much to improve his physical condition, and she had tried to contribute to his comfort, but tonight’s fight seemed to have set back their progress by a few steps.
“Christopher Hawthorne,” Cassian said, his voice carrying across the hall with the cold authority of a man who has never once had to raise it to be obeyed.
“I opened my home to you tonight at my wife’s request; the only reason you are leaving through the front door rather than being handed over to the magistrate.
Do not come back unless you are prepared to behave like the gentleman you were born to be.
” He paused. “And if you ever mention my sister’s name in public, I will hear of it, and I will make sure you never see the light of day again. ”
The doors slammed shut after the footmen returned without Kit. The heavy iron bolt warded off anyone else who would attempt to enter the premises. There was a cold finality to it.
“Did you all see to his safety at least?” she asked a footman.
“Yes, Your Grace. His carriage will be soon carrying him back to his home,” one responded politely, slightly breathless.
“That was too much, Cassian!” Juliana cried, grabbing her husband’s arm as soon as they were out of earshot. “You had him handled like a common criminal!”
“As opposed to him being an uncommon criminal?” Cassian asked sarcastically, wrenching his arm away from his wife.
“He is fortunate to still have his life. Are you seriously taking his side? After what he did to my sister? After the behavior he displayed at dinner? He ruined her, Juliana. Got her with child and left her. You saw what it did to her. She could have been married to a respectable man now, with babies she could care for, instead of pretending to have died so that society would not scorn her.”
His words made sense. Kit certainly needed to atone for many sins. Yet Juliana could not help but think of the desperate look on her brother’s face. Kit had no one but her and her grandmother.
From somewhere behind her, Juliana heard the two dowagers making their way toward the exit, their every step marked by the particular energy of two women who had been arguing for forty years and had no intention of stopping now.
“You raised that boy,” the Dowager Duchess was saying, with magnificent accusation.
“And your grandson just had him thrown into the cold,” Lady Hawthorne replied, with equal magnificence. “So perhaps we might agree that neither of us has covered ourselves in glory this evening.”
A pause.
“The main course was good,” the Dowager Duchess conceded.
“It was,” Lady Hawthorne agreed. “And I will also admit that the breadsticks were soft.”
The front door closed behind them, and Juliana might have smiled at it under any other circumstances.
“Cassian, I… I have never denied that my brother has made many mistakes. It was horrible of him to treat Marta that way,” Juliana admitted. “But do you not think you were a little too harsh? He was shocked. He thought that she had died and had been dead all those years.”
“He climbed on the table to punch me!” Cassian reminded her, a chuckle escaping him, but it was void of mirth.
“I gave him chances. I offered him friendship. I trusted him with my sister, thinking he would respect her because she was my blood. I suppose mistakes happen. It might have been more acceptable if he had offered her marriage, even after she lost the child. But no, he escaped as soon as he realized his seduction had resulted in a pregnancy. Yet you still defend him.”
Juliana hung her head at that. It was true. She felt helpless, unsure how she could still find merit in her brother.
“I… I am sorry that happened to you and Marta,” she said weakly.
“His child is somewhere out there in an unmarked grave because his father, Christopher Hawthorne, had been too occupied with gambling away his money and God knows what else. I thought I knew him. What kind of man would leave a girl to rot in the shame he had caused? Still, he came here to start a fight, after all that he had done.”
“Did you at least ask him what happened between him and Marta?” she asked, her eyes daring to meet his.
“Here I was, expecting you to understand the sacrifices I made just to entertain him civilly in my home,” Cassian said.
“I thought you had truly become my wife, seeing the man I really am. Your words. Yet you are still the same woman who cleans up after your brother’s messes.
I hope he truly appreciates what you have been doing for him the next time you meet him in a gaming hell. ”
“That is not fair!” Juliana protested, even as something nagged at her that said it was, indeed, fair. “I cannot believe that my brother is so evil. Despite everything, he—”
“Is he not?” Cassian asked, raising his brows. “Do you think your brother is merely a gambler? Well, you are wrong. He is more than just a rogue. He is involved with illegal smugglers, Juliana. I mentioned that he was involved with dangerous men, and I meant it. Do you know the worst part of it?”
She shook her head, afraid to croak out a response. The Duke pulled a small notebook from his coat. He flipped through the pages and let his finger stab at one of them.
“The most disgusting part was that he was letting you deliver illegal imports in those boxes. He had his own sister exposed to men of the underground, delivering items she knew little about. You could have been caught! Did he ever stop to think that he might be risking the gallows not just for you but for himself? The money he gets, he does not even bring home. I thought he just wanted to survive. But no, Juliana. He brings the money to the gambling tables and loses over and over. You do not have to take my word for it. Conduct your own investigations. I did my part. Just as you asked me.”
Juliana felt like the ground had opened up, ready to swallow her.
She could still remember that one package that led her to the Turkish Rooms and to Cassian, who was having a bath.
It could have been a different man. One who might not have just teased her but taken advantage of her.
Or she could have been arrested for smuggling.
Her stomach curdled at how she was doing it all for her duty to Hawthorne House.
“No,” she rasped as everything blurred. A tear slid down her cheek. “Kit… He would not do that. He is not a bad person, Cassian. It may be hard to believe, but I have seen him grow up. Somebody must have tricked him. He was so desperate! He still is.”
“You sound just like your grandmother, Juliana,” Cassian said, curling his lip in disgust. “Open your eyes! You have become blind to all his wrongdoings. You will both wait for your estate to fall, and all of you will be brought to prison cells for his crimes. You need to wake up, Juliana. Your brother is a predator who thinks you are a commodity that can bring in money when he cannot. You have been risking your life for him. If he had a good heart when he was younger, well, it is rotting now.”
“You are biased!” she cried, even as her heart shattered into a million pieces.
The image of Kit was growing more reprehensible by the minute, and her hold on Cassian was slipping.
“You hated him, understandably so, but you still use that to judge him unfairly on other matters. You are looking for reasons to destroy him completely for ruining your sister.”
Cassian’s eyes flashed with hurt. Juliana wondered if she had pushed him too far. In a matter of seconds, the hurt was replaced by something worse. His eyes grew colder as his shields went up.
“If that is what you truly believe, wife, there is nothing left for us to discuss. I do not want to hear any more about it.”
The Duke turned on his heel and walked away from her, leaving the rhythmic thudding of his cane in his wake. She felt frozen in place. Even as she tried to run after him, she could not move.
“Wait!” she cried helplessly, but he was determined to leave her alone. He did not look back, his figure retreating into the darkness of the rest of the hall.
Juliana remained standing, her whole body trembling. This must be what it felt like to lose everything. Marta’s losses were worse, but she could feel hers competing with theirs.