Chapter 23
The sense that something was not quite right returned with the cold light of dawn creeping from the treetops. Henry stood still in the centre of the courtyard. Cigarette between two fingers, he watched his solemn expression reflected in a puddle. The longer he thought, the more he was convinced something sinister had happened to Eva.
She had claimed he tried to kill her. Had it not been for her undeniable fear of him, he may have dismissed her words as drama fuelled by the wine she had consumed. But those scars along her cheekbone … those scars had weighed on his chest all night.
He inhaled a drag from his cigarette. Not even the toxic vapours could quell his anxieties.
Footsteps behind made him jump.
He glanced over his shoulder. Elias was approaching with two mugs of steaming coffee. His brows furrowed at the tendrils of smoke from Henry’s cigarette.
“When did ye take up smokin’ those things?” Elias said.
“It was a necessity, I can assure you.”
Elias snorted as he handed him a mug.
“Have you come to hassle me about how much I’ve changed?” Henry said. The warm mug was comforting against his frigid fingers.
“No, I’ve come to lend ye an ear. It doesn’t seem like ye got much sleep.”
“The only way I can sleep soundly these days is to indulge in an entire vial of laudanum,” Henry said.
“I sincerely hope that’s a jest.”
There was a tense pause.
Henry kept his stare on a lone pale bird, with dark streaks and a red forehead. It bounced a few steps on the cobblestones before swooping to the edge of the stable roof.
There was no use in dressing up his words in more secrecy. Surely the rising sun would shine a light on his darkest secret. Elias only needed to observe his pale, clammy complexion, the purple rings beneath his eyes and his trembling fingers. The signs were everywhere.
“Ye’re not denying it,” Elias said.
Henry cleared his throat. “I would be happy if you did not judge me too harshly. I am not sure how much more scrutiny I can take.”
Elias breathed in through clenched teeth.
“I am a mess,” Henry muttered.
“A mess? Ye’re the biggest wreck I’ve ever seen.”
“Thank you,” Henry said flatly.
“How long have ye been taking the drug?”
“Since the night you gave it to me in that glass of water.” Henry glared at his friend. He understood it was not entirely Elias’s fault, but he could not restrain a twinge of resentment. “Before then, I had been clean of it for over a year. Prior to that, I used laudanum to help induce sleep after the deaths in my family. I am afflicted by insomnia and neurosis, Elias. I am, as you said, the biggest wreck.”
“It’s all my fault.”
Elias’s sorry expression jolted a pain deep within Henry’s chest.
“No, the fault is entirely my own,” Henry said.
“But I gave it against yer will. Ye fought me, and I forced it down yer gullet all the same.”
“How could you have known the danger if I kept my previous addiction a secret? My life is a tangled mess because of my selfish desire to hide the truth. I understand that now. Do not blame yourself for my spiral into darkness. That was my doing, not yours.”
Elias did not seem convinced.
Henry set his mug on the step. He embraced Elias and patted his shoulder. “You soft sod, do not burden yourself with this.”
“If I had known…”
“It would not have changed a thing. I was searching for an escape and would have found my way to the drug regardless.”
They broke apart.
Elias stared at the ground, his expression still reserved.
Henry did not want his friend to harbour guilt. He of all people knew how damaging that could be on one’s mind.
“Look at me,” Henry said.
Elias looked up. “I feel horrendous. I kenned ye had demons but not like this.”
“Yes, well, I am working on expelling them.” Henry tried to smile, but his lips felt stiff. “First, I must find my way back to sobriety, and then I’ll work on fixing my mind.”
“When will ye stop the laudanum?”
“I have been weaning myself off it for the last three weeks. I took the last of it twelve hours ago.”
“The sickness will soon start.”
“It already has,” Henry said, holding up his shaking right hand. “If you would prefer that it’s done at the hotel, I can go—”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Ye will do it here, and we will help ye through it.” Elias furrowed his brow. “Does Eva ken?”
“No.”
“She needs to and soon.”
Henry nodded. “I know. I’ll tell her.”
A wave of nausea hit. He could not tell whether it was a symptom of withdrawal or fear. He worried that throwing his addiction on top of the pile would cause everything to crumble, giving Eva another excuse to run away screaming. He wondered what she would say or how she would react. The easiest solution would be to keep his issue hidden a little longer, at least long enough to allow them to speak without further distractions. He had to hold back his physical suffering, however he was not sure how many more hours he could do so.
He had to get through to her, and quickly.
Lost in thought, he looked at the tiny bird on the stable roof. It pecked at a lump of moss, flapped its wings and flew away. Against the blue backdrop of the sunny morning sky, it flew freely.
Free Bird.
Of course, music. That was the key to getting through to her.
***
He stood before Eva’s bedchamber, his pulse pummelling his skull. He knew she would not open the door, so he would go forth with his story because time was running out.
He knocked.
A deafening silence followed.
“Eva, I have come to speak with you,” he said.
He pressed his ear against the door to listen for movement. Had she left? Impossible. Between him and Elias sauntering around the property, one of them would have seen her leave.
Keep talking to her.
He placed his forehead against the wooden door. An odd electric feeling crackled through his limbs, reminding him of the first time he had tried to reason with her at Bondieux House. She had been stubborn then. She would be stubborn now.
“I understand you hate me, and for reasons I do not know, you also fear me. I came here with the intention of explaining my actions because this is my last chance to speak before I truly must go.” His voice was unsteady. “It is your choice to do as you please with my words. As long as you hear them, I suppose my goal will be met.”
He cleared his throat. “I did not go to London to speak with Clarkson; I met with my father. In fact, he demanded I meet him, using threats against Lottie. From the moment I received his letter, I lied to you. I lied with the belief it would keep you safe, to buy time to figure out a way to get the time-travelling device, and to spare you from knowing my true relationship with my father.”
His gaze strayed to the window, where the bristling green leaves of a large oak swayed. “When I met Father, he told me many things. His wish was that I marry Fanny. When I refused, he claimed he would marry Lottie to Fanny’s brother, Angelo. He said Angelo was a cruel man who preyed on those less fortunate. How could I allow Lottie to be subjected to that? And, looking back, I do not regret the decision to protect her. The things I have seen Angelo do…”
There was a distant shuffle from within her bedchamber.
His heart clenched. He had to keep talking.
“Naturally, I fought with Father, and then he confessed to…” His throat tightened. He took a deep breath and pushed on. “He said he murdered my brother and grandfather. Done out of petty spite for that bloody time-travelling technology because we dared to take it away.”
He gritted his teeth through the pain. “It broke my soul, Eva.”
A single tear fell. He was quick to wipe it away. “That was another thing I did not tell you. I had an older brother named Rhys. He was the kindest, most courageous man I have ever known. He would have … he would have—”
He would have loved you.
Henry squeezed his eyes shut. He had to remember Eva was no longer his, and loving words were not appropriate.
“As I’m telling you everything, I must include how they were murdered. Five years ago, tensions between the men in my family were running high. We had been discussing Father’s insanity, debating whether to return him to the asylum in the south of France. His obsession with bringing my mother back from the dead was beginning to leak into daily life. People were talking about the Asheford lunatic, whispers of his mania spread, and no one wanted to do business with Asheford Sons. We were afraid our family secret would be found out. Something had to be done,” he managed to say, his gut twisting. “But it was not a matter of money; it never was. We would have been happy without Asheford Sons staining our family name. Our problem was with the darkness that had poisoned my father’s mind. He had become spiteful, unpredictable, horrifying to be around. We knew it was only a matter of time until he would find a way to get what he wanted most. One night, at a house party in London, that’s exactly what he did. He had a bomb strapped beneath our carriage. When it rolled, the bomb was triggered, killing my grandfather and brother.
“The newspapers lapped it up. Speculation about who had killed the Asheford heir spread, and blame was eventually put on some poor sod who claimed to have done it out of jealousy for our wealth. My father received public sympathy. In private, at the time, he told me it had been a retaliation hit by another London gang competing for territory. But that was a lie, told to stir up my passion for vengeance in a hope I would join his side as the new heir. All along, his plan was to control me, and he bloody nearly did.”
A wave of rage burned through his chest. “The night I met Father back in June, he confessed the bomb was meant for me, not Rhys. As the second son, I had always been dirt in his eyes. But that took a turn for the worse when his lunatic tendencies made him believe I, too, had conspired against him to take away his beloved time-travelling technology. Knowing all that, can you understand my fear? If he could easily murder his children, what could he do to you?”
“And so, you lied to me,” Eva said quietly.
“Yes, I lied.”
There was a pause.
“And you continue to lie now,” she said.
His muscles turned to stone. “No.”
“You do.”
“Have you listened to anything I’ve said?”
Something hard slammed against the door. He flinched.
“All half-truths,” she said. “You’re forgetting the part about you working for the company, doing your father’s dirty bidding.”
He furrowed his brows. “I was never part of the company, and I most certainly did not work with my father. Although, my marriage into the Davenport family secured an overseas expansion for the company, which had been my father’s plan all along. Do you not understand he used me to generate more business?”
“You could have run.”
“I could have, yes.”
“You could have listened to me. We could have made a better plan for you and Lottie.”
“We could have. We could have done all that if I had not been so short-sighted,” he said. “From the moment Father confessed, I became a weak creature with clipped wings, trapped by fate like a canary in a cage. I sincerely thought the only way out was to burn the shackles that held me.”
“You didn’t have to do it all on your own,” she wailed. “I was there for you … we all were.”
“Even if we had run, do you honestly think my father wouldn’t have followed? Lottie and I would have never known peace—”
“You can’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You don’t. You can’t know the future—”
“The future? The future I knew was that he had you followed into a faraway century. We cannot delude ourselves into thinking it would have been any less difficult for him to track his children in the present. We are hardly at an advantage. It had to stop.”
Silence followed.
He fancied he heard his blood sizzling in a vein at the back of his neck. A migraine would soon come. He had to push on with his story.
“When I was in London, I met with Clarkson. Our meeting led me to discover the location of the time-travelling device. It had been locked away in the safe that once belonged to Benjamin Cooper. Do you remember him? The general manager of my father’s wharf who was murdered for spying on the company’s activities. God knows how he found the device, probably through snooping around the warehouse my grandfather frequented.” He paused to take a few deep breaths. The nausea was returning. “Knowing the reality of my entrapment, I needed to ensure your safety. So, I had Elias deliver the device to you. But then, you came to me—”
His voice cracked. The memory of that night always brought him close to tears.
“And I tried my damnedest to make you believe our love was over. I thought if you were angry enough, you would leave. You had the device, and all you needed was a reason to go. I was lost, but you … you still had a chance … and you did not take it. You did not listen. Instead, you followed me to the hotel and observed one of my darkest moments. When I saw the pain across your face, I swear I could feel your heart breaking as if it were my own. Then, when I was told days later you had left this world, I was relieved. You may have hated me, but as long as you were safe and away from my family, that was all that mattered.”
He withdrew her phone from his pocket. It was his final card. “This may not be appropriate to say, but I want you to know that not one day passed when I did not think of you. Not one day went by when I did not play your music. It was my only anchor in a stormy sea.”
Crouching down, he slid the phone through the gap at the base of the door.
There was a muffled sob from the other side.
He stood. “I’ve said what I wanted to say. It is your decision to do what you wish with my words. I understand well enough that my actions have consequences—”
The door opened.
Eva stood in her pale nightgown. She hugged herself as her lower lip trembled and fat tears ran down her blotchy cheeks.
The urge to take her into his arms was maddening.
“You look like shit,” she said.
And you look heavenly. The corners of his lips twitched.“I certainly feel like it. I suppose that’s what happens when you escape an unlawful arrest and spend over a week feeling lost at sea.”
She glared at him. There was no warmth in her regard. No reciprocated love in her expression. She was entirely cold, like a marble statue.
It stabbed at his heart.
Her eyes swept his body and pinpointed the tremble in his right hand.
He clenched it by his side.
“Escaped an unlawful arrest,” she repeated. “You’re on the run, then?”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“I colluded with the London police to arrange an illegal trade deal to capture my father in the act of smuggling. It worked but has created a mess. He knows I’m the rat. I do not doubt they will come after me. All I can hope is the police catch them first.”
She shook her head. “God, you’re an idiot.”
“I do not entirely disagree with that.”
“Everything you said. Do you swear to me it’s the truth?”
“Yes, I swear. What man would I be to make up such a horrific tale? I hoped you of all people would know I am not a despicable person.”
Her brows pulled together. “Sure, once upon a time, I did. Now, I’m not so sure.”
His stomach rolled.
She picked up the tartan shawl from her bed and pulled it tight around her frame.
“Fine,” she huffed. “If we’re exchanging truths, you might as well know just how bad the consequences of your actions were.”
There was a malicious tone to her voice.
As she walked past him, a cool breeze brushed his shoulder.
“We’ll talk in the dining room,” she muttered. “I haven’t eaten since you showed up, and I’m ready to devour something.”