Chapter 28 #2
“This letter was written to Camille by her father shortly before his death and arrived only days before she was due to leave Fairford. I deliberately kept it from her because it held sentiments I did not wish her to see.” The baroness leveled her gaze upon Adam.
“It’s about you, Mr. Thornton, every single word.
” Her ringed fingers were shaking as she handed him the letter.
“You may read it later at your leisure, I’m giving it to you to keep, but for now I would prefer that you simply listen to what I have to say. ”
“As you wish,” Adam answered, glancing at Susanna as he released her hand and took the paper.
“My nephew held a great fondness for you, Mr. Thornton, and it’s echoed in each line of that letter.
He looked upon you as a son, and he wanted you and Camille to marry, believing you would do well by both her and Briarwood.
And although I know now of the vengeful motive that had driven you to prove to James that you were worthy to wed his daughter, I am sure he wouldn’t have faulted you for it; he loved you that much.
You’ll find that he states he had intended to share his feelings and hopes with Camille when she arrived in Virginia, but something compelled him to write to her instead.
I can only imagine that he must have had some premonition… ”
As Lady Redmayne paused again to collect herself, Susanna’s thoughts skipped back to that balmy July afternoon when Adam had asked if he might court her. She hadn’t believed James Cary would have given a common hired man his blessing, but the planter had, and here finally was Adam’s proof.
“That is why I couldn’t allow Camille to read the letter,” the baroness continued. “Despite my nephew’s wishes, I didn’t think you would make a suitable husband for her, Camille being an heiress—which I mean as no insult to you personally, Mr. Thornton—”
“None taken,” he murmured.
“Yes, well, to be blunt, I had my sights for her set much higher. I trusted that I had taught her well enough about the importance of choosing a proper husband, that once you made your marital intentions known to her, she would reject you outright.” Her eyes began to mist, her voice suddenly catching.
“But I can’t tell you, Mr. Thornton, what James’s letter came to mean to me when I learned of his foul murder and that horrible man Dominick Spencer’s intentions toward my beloved Camille.
It was the only thing during that endless ocean crossing that gave me any hope.
I can’t even count how many times I reread that letter, especially the words about how stubborn you were, how hardworking and persevering, and I prayed day and night that you were using that same dogged persistence against any objections Camille might give you about your courtship of her.
You can’t imagine my trepidation when I disembarked from that ship early this morning and went straight to the town constable’s house and rousted him from bed, only to hear that you had married my grandniece almost two weeks ago… ”
Susanna felt a terrible lump rising in her throat as Lady Redmayne’s teary gaze fell upon her. “I’m sorry it was me, your ladyship, truly I am. If I could have taken the fever from Camille and put it upon myself, I would have done it gladly. I didn’t want her to die…”
“Heavens, dear child, I know that,” the baroness murmured, pulling a black handkerchief from her sleeve to dab at her eyes.
“And I know how much Camille loved you, like a sister. You were the only one who could make her truly laugh, and every time I heard it, I thanked God you had stumbled across our path in London. I fear I was too hard on her, wishing she could shed her shyness and be more like you. I hope she knew that I only wanted the best for her—”
“She did, my lady, she did,” Susanna interrupted fervently, grateful for the warmth and strength of Adam’s hand once again grasping her own.
Lady Redmayne rose from the chair, her handkerchief now limp and sodden.
“Forgive me. I didn’t come here to make such an emotional display, only to explain myself and tell you both that I have no intention of hauling you before any magistrate.
As far as I’m concerned, this is a family matter, and I consider both of you my family now.
You’re all that I have left connecting me to the ones I loved. ”
Her limbs suddenly gone weak with relief, Susanna sank down next to Adam, scarcely noticing that his arm had slipped around her waist.
“I have only one question to ask you, Mr. Thornton,” the baroness added, drawing back her delicate shoulders as her expression regained a good measure of its sternness. “Do you love this young woman?”
“I do,” Adam answered, his voice throbbing with intensity. “She’s everything to me. I need nothing else as long as she is by my side.”