Chapter 27 #2
At the bottom of the letter was a date from two years ago, three months before Aisling died.
Nessa’s hands trembled as she finished that letter, and a single tear dripped from her eye.
Her father … it was the only evidence that Nessa had of his existence …
proof that he had not abandoned her because he had hated her and her mother.
If anything, his action seemed to have brought him pain.
What was more, this was further proof that Aisling had known about Nessa.
But had she done anything with this proof? Had she written to Aisling’s mother? Did her mother know and had never told Nessa? So many questions, and ones that she feared would never be answered.
Nonetheless, Nessa felt heartened by what this truly meant. She had desired proof of who she was, and this was it. With this letter, there could be no doubt about her lineage, and finally, the truth would be revealed for all to know.
As to what would happen after … Nessa had no idea.
“You have no idea how much Aisling coveted that letter.” The voice broke through the silence like a clap of thunder.
Nessa gasped; she went to turn, but a moment of clarity struck her, and she hastily tucked the letter into her dress. It was only once that letter was hidden away that she turned.
Lord Crispin stood at the mouth of the cave. He was drenched to his knees, the tide now washing into the cave so that it came within feet of where Nessa stood. She had been so lost in those letters that she had not realized for how long she’d been down there.
“Lord Crispin!” she cried, and her voice echoed across the cave. “What … what are you doing here?”
Lord Crispin looked sadly at her. “Aisling showed me those letters and asked that I hide them for her. While she never said as much, I think she was ashamed of herself for writing them.”
Nessa said nothing. Thankfully, Lord Crispin did not appear angry or rueful, but that he was with her, alone … was reason enough to be scared.
“I told her that she ought not be,” he said, his voice still sad. “There is no shame in wanting to know of your past. But that her father refused to write to her for so long …” He shook his head with sadness. “It was not until he sent that single letter that she finally came to understand.”
“Understand what?” Nessa took a step back.
“That it was not her fault,” he said. “And when she learned that she had a sister, I cannot tell you how heartened she was. She wrote to your mother, you know? Shortly after learning of her. Sadly, she died soon after, and your mother never wrote back.” His brow furrowed as his gaze fell on the unopened jars. “These need to be …”
Lord Crispin crossed into the cave and made for the jars. Then, he hastily began to screw the lids back on. But he did so with care, as if the contents meant the world to him.
“What are you doing here?” Nessa took a step back, purposefully moving around Lord Crispin so that the cave’s entrance was to her back.
“I heard that you meant to come here,” he explained as he screwed on the lids of the jars. “How you learned of this place, I do not know. But once I realized where you were going, I knew I had to stop you.”
“St – stop me?”
“From destroying these letters,” he said as he screwed on the second-to-last lid. That left the one empty jar …
“Why would I destroy them? Why are you keeping them hidden?”
“Because Aisling asked me to.” He eyed the empty jar as if confused at what he was seeing. “Where is it? Where is her father’s letter?”
“Why do you care?” Nessa took a step back, and she gasped as the water washed across her feet. “After what you did to her? What does it matter about these letters?”
“What I did to her?” His head snapped up, and his expression was confused. “Do you truly believe that I … that I might be capable …” He started to tremble.
Nessa knew that she should have turned and run. But she felt the pull of curiosity hold her in place.
“You killed her,” Nessa said as she took another step back. That saw the water reaching her knees. She was perhaps five feet from the cave’s exit, and a quick glance confirmed the rise of the tide.
“Is that what you think?”
“It is what you said.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I did not kill Aisling. Not in the way that you think. I … I loved her, Miss Kavanagh. A love as deep as any ocean. A love that burned as hot as the sun.”
“But you said –”
“I said that her death was my fault,” he snapped. “Not the same thing. But the truth is just as damning, and perhaps it would be simpler if I were the cause.”
Another step back, the tide reaching her thighs. “I do not understand.”
“My love for Aisling, I believe, was returned.” He bowed his head in sadness.
“I needed it to be. I would have done anything for her – I did do anything for her. For years, we grew close, and always I held out hope that she might leave Alaric for me. Now, I know that she never meant to. That she …” He grimaced. “That she never would.”