Once Beloved (23 page)

Had Daniel's kindness all been an act? Had his passion been fabricated as well? How he must have laughed at her. Her face burned, even as a chill surrounded her heart. No. He wasn't lying to her, she was sure of it. He wouldn't. His intensity, his open affection, his tenderness—he wouldn't fabricate those. The Daniel she knew wouldn't play such games with someone, not even for revenge. He would be straightforward in his approach, instead of masking his true feelings.

“That's why you're here, isn't it? A midnight tryst. Danny has you panting after him. Didn't need much to catch your eye.”

“I don't believe you. Daniel abhors lying and duplicity. He felt contempt for me when we met in London, and he wouldn't hide it, not even for the sake of polite society. He wouldn't toy with someone's affections, certainly not after the way his spouse played him on a string for so long.”

“Poor woman, you tell yourself whatever pretty tales you need to tell for comfort. Nancy was exactly the spark to this cleansing little flame. By doing to you what she did to him, he can obtain retribution and restore his manhood. Revenge and rejuvenation in one fell swoop.”

He took an ominous step toward her, and she felt the doorknob dig into her back as she retreated.

“It's best you go, Mrs. Martin. Whatever business you had here this evening is for naught.” His tone implied that he knew the personal nature of her intended
business
with Daniel. Her face heated. No, she couldn't believe anything Gordon said. Daniel would return in time as promised, and everything would be made clear.

“Good-bye, Mr. Lanfield. I wish I could say it was a pleasure seeing you again.”

“Likewise,” he said as he followed her to the door and slammed it behind her.

 

Yet again, Vanessa rechecked the bedrooms to make sure they weren't leaving anything behind that they might need. She checked under the bed, behind the wardrobe, in every drawer, including drawers she knew they hadn't used. She even peeled back the sheets and remade their beds, twice so far. She had to do something while they waited to leave. Aunt Helena didn't look well, no doubt weighed down by the stress of traveling. What would happen if her aunt had one of those spells again—or another awful trance like the one in the cart? She couldn't whistle worth a farthing, but it was more than that. Mr. Lanfield had a calming way about him. No matter what the occasion, during these few weeks, his harmonizing effect on her aunt had become increasingly clear. Could they truly make this trip without him?

“Ness, stop fussing up there and come down, lass,” Gran called. “Come and spend a wee few moments with me before you go. How will you miss me properly otherwise?”

She grinned. Such a singular woman. She could only imagine what it must have been like to be raised in this home, with Gran's guiding hand. She'd be happy to leave behind the filthier chores, but she'd miss that old woman.

“In a blink, Gran!” She took a final sweeping look around the room. She'd thought it so worn and outdated when they'd arrived. So foolish and shallow-minded, she had been. Every piece in this room had a history—the quilt on the bed made from scraps crossing three generations of Thortons, the pillows her great-grandmother had stuffed with goose feathers, the lace curtains knit by a grandmother she had never known. It was no wonder Mother and Father berated her for being a slave to fashion. She'd thought them miserly when they refused her extravagant fabric choices and flashy accessories. Shame washed over her as she recalled her petulant complaints about having to reuse the fabric from outgrown dresses. She traced the circular pattern of the quilt, wondering if her mother knew this one. If her mother would let her come back, maybe Gran could teach it to her.

In the sitting room, Gran stood by the side table, turning the pages of a book filled with tiny, cramped writing. When she touched the dear woman's shoulder, Gran pulled her into an emphatic hug, her thin arms amazingly strong, especially for one who'd so recently been bedridden.

“My sweet lass,” Gran said, her voice tremulous, “it was such a pleasure to meet you. I'll miss your sweet smile.”

“Not as much as I shall miss you,” she replied as she fought back tears. It was a losing battle, she knew, as Gran's sentiments served to heighten her own. Before long, they'd both be one great emotional puddle.

Gran stroked her hair and then turned back to the book she'd been perusing. “Look here. I have something for you. It's one of the Thorton almanacs; your grandparents wrote down many particularly fond and amusing entries about your mother this year, and I think you should have it.” Gram's voice dropped to a whisper as she added, “In the spring of this year, your mother experienced her first infatuation with one of the village lads. Oh, how your grandparents fretted and fussed over it. I needn't tell you she didn't end up with that one, but I believe you'll find it illuminating to read accounts from her parents' perspective.”

Joy filled her as she gingerly picked up the leather volume. “Oh, Gran! I cannot wait! I was just thinking upstairs that it would be wonderful to have a token by which to remember this visit, and I couldn't imagine anything this special, this momentous! Are you sure you wish me to have it? This must be the only copy!”

“Aye, Nessie, this is yours now. I'm sure you'll take great care with it. Something tells me this particular volume belongs with you.” Gran winked knowingly, and heat spread through her as she looked down to the table. “I'm sure that your mother will likewise enjoy the illuminating observations of her parents back then. Now you can take a piece of us with you to London, which would please me greatly.”

“I wish I had something to leave with you too!”

“You have, my lamb, you have! You're burned into my memory. To see you here in these rooms, to hear you squawking back at the chickens—aye, I heard you!—to feel your warm embrace as you looked after me. You leave me all those wonderful moments. I'd hoped to see your mother return with your aunt, but your visit more than made up for her absence. It is impossible to miss how you favor her, not just in face but in action. It's been a blessing to see her through you.”

I
t was amazing how even Helena's view of Bradford had changed since her last visit mere weeks ago. Still crowded and smog-filled, it felt more chaotic and precarious. She sensed Mr. Weathers and Vanessa both watching her as their cart crept through the city streets, which were clogged with vehicles, cattle, and pedestrians. A faint but constant tension gripped her belly; it didn't intensify as she'd expected, though. When Vanessa touched her hand, she attempted to smile.

“Soon, we'll be home,” her niece said quietly. The warmth and tenderness in that simple word—home—made her throat tighten. So much had changed in such a short time! Yes, London was her home. And yet. She'd thought she'd lost Marksby forever, cast out and condemned. But this visit had given her more than she'd dreamed possible. The Thorton house was her home again, and she would be ever grateful for this glimpse of redemption. Even if she never saw Daniel again, her home and her family were whole again.

She couldn't believe the terrible things Gordon had said. Wouldn't believe Daniel capable of such cruelty and manipulation. He simply didn't have that ugliness in him. How had this man become so dear to her? Their physical indiscretions aside, she truly cared for him as if he were family. She appreciated his kindness, admired—nay, adored—his strength. She saw now the quiet depth of his intellect and his heart. And she would miss him in every cell of her being. Surely, her heart couldn't physically tear apart, even though that was exactly how it felt. She couldn't wait to see the boys, to hear their laughter, yet Daniel's delicate touches on her hand and her shoulder still burned her skin. In their wake, Daniel had become one of the few people she trusted, one of the few with whom she'd felt truly at peace. She never thought she would experience that communion again.

A month ago, she could not have faced this environment. She knew her corner of London well enough, and now she could see that this city, with all its cramped, looming buildings and its crush of strange people resembled London in tenor, if not in physical appearance. Being a complete stranger in this moment should have set her spiraling into panic. Those deep-seated fears were still there, stewing in her mind, but she could see past them now. She could look upon the crowds and see families, see earnest working folk, see goodness and beauty and hope again. She could breathe. She could be in such an environment and laugh again—not entirely unguarded or carefree—but open in a way she hadn't been for far, far too long.

“There's the station ahead,” Mr. Weathers said.

As the moment of their parting loomed, she couldn't convey any of the delicate sentiments swelling in her heart for this man and his wife, both of whom had been devoted to her family since before she was born. She'd promised to return as soon as she could, and to bring her boys with her, but no one could predict the vagaries of time. All she could say was, “This visit has been more than I could have hoped for. I shall cherish every memory and keep you and Mrs. Weathers in my heart!”

When the cart came to a stop, Vanessa's arms wrapped around her from behind. “Me too, Auntie! So very much.” Vanessa gave the old man a buss on the cheek and promised to return.

“Time to go, dear,” Helena said through the lump in her throat.

 

As the train slowed, Helena couldn't begin to process how much had changed in the weeks she and Vanessa had been away. The return trip to London had been remarkably swift and astoundingly uneventful. Even changing trains in Birmingham had been easy, even though the station had seemed even more crowded than the streets of Bradford had been. As they made their way out of Euston Station into London's bright fog, Vanessa exclaimed, “Goodness, it's a relief to be in Town again! Ah, to be home!”

“My dear, as near as we are, you cannot tell me you found no joy in the country.”

“Of course, I cannot, Auntie. Marksby is so quaint and charming in its own way.” The girl's airy, dismissive persona resurfaced so quickly. How unfortunate. This was the girl whose parents had wanted her away from the city. She searched for any sign of the other girl, the one who'd marveled at the tranquility of the rolling hills and the kindness of her kin. Nothing. Vanessa's demure expression, the coy quirk of her lips, the air with which she walked, everything about her demeanor suggested the dangerously selfish and flirtatious young woman hadn't changed at all. It was really too much for any of them to expect that a few weeks away would effect a total transformation. But then the sweet girl linked arms with her, and she heard Ness quietly add, “It is a different world there. I am so glad I accompanied you. Great-Gran is so remarkable. It was such a bucolic place. I can picture you and Mama as children there, and I shall hold many fond memories of our visit. Thank you for taking me with you.”

Overcome with emotion, she could only reach with her free hand to squeeze her niece's arm in response. She would hold many memories of the visit, but she wasn't sure she would ever label them as fond ones, not after all that had happened.

After all the walking they'd done in Marksby, they agreed that there was no need for a cab. Indeed, winding their way through London was remarkably entertaining for its novelty. Streets teemed with life, for better or worse. And while Helena had a few moments of tension when passersby crowded in upon her, she never came close to a concerning level of panic. Soon enough, they arrived at her sister's front door. She had to pause at the bottom of the steps to brace herself. There would be questions, not all of which she could properly answer.

Vanessa squeezed her hand and said, “The boys will be so thrilled to see you! It's good to be home!”

Before either of them could knock, she already heard Tommy yelling, “They're here! Mama's home! Mark, she's home!”

When the door swung open, sure enough, Tommy rushed over and wrapped himself in her skirts. “Mama! I just knew you would return today! Auntie 'Lizbeth said not to get my hopes up, but I knew. I don't know how I knew, but I was sure of it!” She couldn't even take a step into the house with his small arms wrapped so tightly around her, and his exuberance brought tears to her eyes.

“My darling Tommy! How wonderful to see you!” she cried, as she hugged him tightly. In the corner of her eye, she saw Mark coming down the stairs as well.

“Welcome back, Mother. Tommy did just say this morning that today was the day, but he's said it every day for a week now,” Mark said. He looked well enough, but he remained at a distance. “You were away much longer than we expected.” A mix of emotions played on his face. Surprise and relief washed over by wariness and—was he angry with her?

“Come here, Mark, so I can hug you properly. You boys have both grown like weeds!”

He took a few slow steps, then paused and asked, “Why were you gone so long?”

Her heart ached at the vulnerable tone of his voice, and for a moment, she could only shake her head, so overwhelmed was she by memories of her trip. “Your great-grandmother was very ill, near death in fact. And so I am unspeakably pleased to say that she has made a full recovery. It took longer than anyone expected.”

Tommy tugged on her sleeve and asked, “Where is Mr. Lanfield? He promised us he would keep you safe. Is he outside with his cart?” He moved to pull her toward the window, but she stopped him.

“No, sweetling, he isn't here. Vanessa and I returned on the train. In fact, I think we should take a train trip sometime soon. It would be a great adventure for us all.”

Mark rushed down the remaining stairs, and he and Tommy stood before her with matching frowns. Damn, the mention of trains hadn't caught their attention at all. She braced herself.

“That snake!” Mark exclaimed. “He gave us his word that he would see you safe.” Tommy nodded in solidarity.

“Have I not returned safe and sound? He provided safe transport for us to Marksby, but he had important work for the family farm. He couldn't possibly spare the time to drive us back.”

“I like him,” Tommy said.

“You liked his horse,” Mark retorted.

“Yes, but I liked him more.” Tommy's chin tipped up firmly. “I knew he would watch over Mama and protect her.”

“Now, Tommy, I don't need protecting,” she assured him, as she ruffled his hair.

“But—” Mark interjected.

Before either of them could explain all the ways they hadn't seen that statement to be true, she cut in, “I know I have been weak in recent years, but this trip has revived me. It was precisely what I needed to give me the confidence and fortitude I once had. And Vanessa and I made our way back from Manchester just fine without any help.”

“I would feel better if he were here,” Tommy replied, his voice quiet.

Wouldn't we all? She threw a mental blanket over that thought and said, “Well, now that I'm here, we should go home. You've been in Aunt Elizabeth's hair long enough. Go on and pack your things.”

“But we have a surprise for you, Mama!” Tommy looked at his brother expectantly, and at Mark's nod, he burst out, “Bart is home!”

Bartholomew wasn't due back for several months, at least! What had brought him back to London so early? Her mind immediately jumped to the worst possibilities.

“What on earth is he doing back here so soon? Has he been injured? Has he been discharged?”

Elizabeth, who'd been observing the exchange, said, “He's completely fine, Lena. Safe and sound. They had good winds, he said, and his ship should be here a few more days.” She addressed Mark and Tommy, “There's no rush, boys. You'll stay with us until after dinner, surely. Bart will join us if he's able.” Then her sister stared at her for a moment, as if working out a puzzle. “And, you, my dear, should at least take a few hours' rest after the ordeal you've had. You know you can all stay as long as you like.” Her sister led the way upstairs and sent the boys off to find their cousins and clean up their belongings.

“You can nap in the nursery. It should ensure you the most solitude and privacy, and I shall ensure that you are not disturbed.”

“That's not necessary, Lizzie,” she said, although the strain of the journey, of everything that had happened, suddenly felt like a crushing weight. She followed her younger sister, despite her protestations.

“My dearest, I'll be blunt,” Elizabeth said softly, with a hint of smile. “You look awful. And your letters were cryptic, at best, about anything but Gran's condition. You can be sure I plan a full interrogation very soon about the treatment you received in the village . . . and about whatever transpired between you and Mr. Daniel Lanfield. But it wouldn't be sporting of me to begin the discussion when you appear ready to drop where you stand. So here we are.” She concluded her little speech as they entered the nursery and gestured toward the small bed.

How could she resist the promise of a few quiet hours? The bed indeed beckoned like a siren, promising the luxury of sleep. The noises from the street made clear that she was no longer in Marksby, and yet they and the sounds of the children below were faint. Just a few hours of forgetfulness. A handful of minutes to keep her thoughts at bay a little longer. She could manage that.

“Sister,” Elizabeth said, her voice tentative, “do you need anything else?”

When she turned to look at Elizabeth, at the naked worry in her sister's eyes, she couldn't hold back the wave of emotions any longer. Couldn't stop a tear from slipping down her cheek. That one tear broke the dam, and she fell to her knees sobbing. Within a blink, Elizabeth was kneeling next to her, holding her close, whispering soothingly.

“Was it so terrible there, Lena? I knew I shouldn't have let you go back.”

She looked up at her sister and shook her head. “No, Liz. You don't understand. I don't regret a moment of that trip. There were hard moments, especially in the first few days, but . . .” She took a few deep breaths before she could continue. “It was wonderful too. Almost like starting a whole new chapter of my life. I didn't even know I needed it. And now that I've returned, I have no idea what to do with any of it. I feel as if I've been given a fresh start, fresh eyes, and I am overwhelmed. I don't know what to do with myself, and I am terrified to go home.”

“Why, sweetheart? You love that house. It's been your sanctuary for so long.”

“That's exactly why. What if this has changed me too much? What if I return to that house and find it lacking? What if, when I walk in, I lose my taste for all the things I loved about it? What would that say about my fickleness? About my lack of abiding love?”

“You're simply overwrought and need rest, I'm sure. You are anything but fickle. You never turn away entirely from that which you love. And your family defines your home, not the things within. Rest now. Everything will be clearer once you've had a good sleep. Trust me.”

“Elizabeth, I'm in love with Daniel.”

Her sister blinked and then moved toward the door. “We will talk later. I'll come check on you in a couple of hours.”