Page 99 of The Unforgiven
Later, after Gabe had fallen asleep, Quinn reached for a glass of water and noticed that there was one voicemail message on her mobile. It was from Rhys.
“Quinn, Legal didn’t turn up any of Clara’s descendants. There’s not enough to go on, so we are in the clear as far as that goes. Also, the powers that be don’t feel comfortable with revealing your psychic ability on air. They fear it might undermine the integrity of the program and cause a backlash. So, a letter from George to Amelia will miraculously materialize, recounting all that he’d learned from Sybil about Madeline’s parentage and demise. It will forestall any awkward questions about how you learned the location of her resting place. And, last but not least, brilliant news, BBC has renewedEchoesfor a second season. Hope you’re on board. Talk soon.”
EPILOGUE
SEPTEMBER 1859
Arabella Plantation, Louisiana
George knocked softly and entered his grandmother’s bedroom. She was propped up in bed, reading, as she always did before going to sleep. An oil lamp illuminated her face as she frowned at something happening in the story. During the day, Sybil Besson was perfectly groomed and fashionably attired, but now her face was devoid of the powder and rouge she used to brighten her cheeks, and her severe gown had been replaced by a simple cotton nightdress. Her gray hair was plaited, and the braid rested on her shoulder, secured with a blue ribbon.
“George,” Sybil said, putting the book down on the counterpane. “Come in.”
“I’ve come to say good night,” George said. He was still dressed but had removed his coat and silk cravat, and taken off his shoes.
“Is little Brett all right?” Sybil asked.
“Yes, he’s full to the brim and down for the night. I love watching him nurse,” George confessed. “I do wish Amelia could have the pleasure of breastfeeding our son, but we’ll take what we can get.”
“Your grandfather liked watching his boys nurse as well. I almost wish I’d breastfed them myself, just to get him to look at me with such love,” she reminisced.
“Grandfather loved you,” George replied. “I know he did.”
Sybil didn’t answer but looked at George more closely. “Is something troubling you, Georgie?”
“Have you heard from Madeline? Surely she’s settled in Paris by now.”
“No, I haven’t heard anything,” Sybil replied, her eyes sliding away from George’s anxious face.
George shook his head in dismay. “I just don’t understand, Grandmamma. She left without a word. She didn’t even take any of her things. I know I behaved badly. I was selfish and careless, but Madeline never gave me a chance to put things right between us. I can understand why she refused to see me while she was with child, but I thought we’d finally have a chance to talk after the baby was born. I would never have forced her to marry Gilbert if she had no wish to. I would have taken care of her and made sure she had a good life. I would have thanked her for my beautiful boy. Doesn’t she even want to know how our son is doing?”
“I suppose not.”
“Grandmamma, where was Madeline planning to stay? The Monroes are going to France for the winter, so I’ll ask them to look her up. I just want to know that she is well, and that she’s all right for funds. I know you gave her a large sum, but perhaps she needs more. I can wire her the money if I just have the name of the bank.”
Sybil exhaled loudly and looked up at George. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and she suddenly looked older and grayer. “George, Madeline is gone.”
“I know she’s gone, but I am worried about her. I want her to know I haven’t forsaken her, and she has nothing to fear from Amelia. Amelia holds no grudge against her, not after the precious gift Madeline has given her.”
“George, Madeline is dead,” Sybil said bluntly.
George’s knees went weak and he rested his hand on the corner of a dresser to brace himself. “Dead? But you told me you arranged for her and Mammy to go to Paris.”
“I told you that to spare you pain.”
“Did she die in childbirth?” George exclaimed. “You should have had Dr. Halbrook attend on her. You should have allowed her to stay here, in comfort. Amelia and I would have stayed away, if it made things easier for Madeline. We would have respected her wishes.”
“She didn’t die in childbirth, George.”
He stared at his grandmother, understanding dawning. “What did you do to her?” he asked, his voice low.
“She would have never relinquished the child. She made threats.”
“Please, please tell me you didn’t have a hand in her death.”
“It was quick and merciful.”
“Quick and merciful?” George cried. “She was sixteen. Her life had barely begun. She was your granddaughter.”
