Page 120 of The Forsaken
“I begin by recovering from a cesarean section, and you begin by scheduling a well-deserved holiday.”
“You just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll be on the next flight. I’m ready to help in whatever way is needed.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. You’re my girl, and I love you. And I’ll move mountains to find your sister. Now, it must be past midnight in London, and you need your rest. Kiss my grandson for me, and give my regards to Gabe and Emma. I look forward to seeing them.”
“Talk soon.” Quinn rang off. She had one more phone call to make. Her parents would be asleep, but they’d never forgive her if she didn’t call them right away with the news. She rang her parents, then texted Jill and Phoebe.
She replaced the phone on the nightstand, tired and in pain, and happier than she’d ever been.
SEVENTY-SIX
NOVEMBER 2014
London, England
Quinn deftly changed Alex’s nappy, stuffed him into an unbearably cute outfit, and put him down for a nap, hoping against hope that he would just drift off. Alex was a happy baby, but he still woke up hungry at least once during the night and craved the company of his parents round the clock. As though leaving him alone in his cot was paramount to abandoning him to die on the side of a mountain, he whimpered and cried until someone came back into the room. He didn’t demand to be picked up, but he liked the presence of another person, particularly if that person was Quinn, because in her case, company also meant a snack. Perhaps she’d get a break once Seth arrived and Alex had one more adoring adult to manipulate.
Seth was coming in two weeks, just in time to treat them to an all-American Thanksgiving, something Quinn was looking forward to. She’d always thought it was a lovely holiday, and this year she had much to be grateful for. Seth had promised to cook the whole meal as long as Quinn stocked the fridge with the required ingredients, including raw cranberries. Lord only knew where she’d get those. Or yams. She’d leave that to Gabe. He’d always enjoyed a challenge. They’d invited Logan and Colin, Jill and Brian, and Pete and Brenda McGann for their upcoming feast. It’d be nice for Seth to meet their nearest and dearest, and feel welcomed into the fold. Quinn hoped Phoebe would come down as well to meet her fellow grandparent. She had more than twenty years on Seth, but Quinn thought they’d get on like a house on fire.
Alex glared at Quinn from between the bars of the cot, preparing to holler if she so much as considered leaving the room.
“Okay, you little rascal, perhaps a walk will lull you to sleep,” Quinn said. She was tired, but fresh air would do her good, and besides, she had much to consider.
She dressed Alex for the outdoors, settled him in his pram, and headed out the door and toward the lift. Emma was at school, and Gabe at work, so she and the baby were on their own. The day outside was overcast, but not unpleasant. Falling leaves twirled in the air, landing at Quinn’s feet as she walked down the street, enjoying the autumn chill. She used to hate this time of year, when everything began to shrivel up and die, but she’d learned to see the beauty in bare branches interlaced against the cool blue of the autumn sky, and enjoy the anticipation of the upcoming holiday season, since for the first time since her parents had retired to Spain, she had a family to spend Christmas with.
Got you!Quinn thought gleefully as Alex’s eyelids began to droop after nearly half an hour of walking. Perhaps now she could find a bench and sit down for a while. What a blessing mobile phones were for new mums. While Alex slept, Quinn was able to catch up on her correspondence, return calls, send texts, and even do some research. She’d been reading up on the Wars of the Roses, but still hadn’t returned to the past to see what had happened after Kate’s death.
Now that Alex was six weeks old and Quinn was almost fully healed from the cesarean section, it was time to return to work. Rhys was patiently—or more accurately, impatiently—waiting for her report, desperate to begin the casting process for the new episode. The series finale was already in production, being filmed on a sound stage in Wales that had been transported to the pre-Civil War South, and the first episode ofEchoes from the Pastwas due to air in a few weeks. It was time to complete her presentation for this episode and move on to the next one, yet to be determined, though Rhys had said he had a few ideas in the works.
There was much to accomplish on a personal front as well. After much deliberation, Phoebe had decided to sell the manor house and move into a retirement community in Berwick. Her guilt at parting with her husband’s ancestral home was diluted by thepromise of being closer to her dear friend Cecily Creston-Jones and the lure of all the activities they could enjoy together. The retirement community offered a wide range of classes for seniors, which appealed to Phoebe, who’d never really pursued any hobbies besides looking after her husband. She’d always wanted to try pottery and was warming up to the idea of chair yoga. Gabe fully supported Phoebe’s plan to sell, and had promised to do everything in his power to make the process easier for his mum.
“Once the house is sold and the death duties are paid, I will give what’s left to you,” Phoebe had promised. “With the proceeds from the sale of your own homes, you’ll be able to afford a nice, spacious house in London for your growing family.” Phoebe had been barely able to keep the smile off her face as she contemplated more grandchildren. “Your father would have wanted you to have the money,” she’d explained, silencing Gabe’s protests. “He left me comfortably provided for.”
Quinn had to admit that the prospect of a house of their own thrilled her. Perhaps it would even have a garden where the children could play and she and Gabe could enjoy on fine days. They were terribly cramped in Gabe’s flat, but Quinn’s little chapel in Suffolk was even smaller, never having been intended to house a family. She’d be sorry to part with it, but now that she was married with two children, she no longer had any use for it. She hoped whoever bought it would get as much pleasure and solace from it as she had.
The wind picked up and the sky darkened, threatening rain. Quinn put away her mobile and sprang to her feet. It was time to return home. She set a brisk pace, hoping to outrun the downpour and actually made it into the foyer of the building just as fat, lazy raindrops began to plop onto the sidewalk. Tonight, once Alex was down for the night, she would ask Gabe for the sword and see what had transpired after Kate hemorrhaged to death. Quinn didn’t relish witnessing Guy’s heartbreak, but it was time to find out how this sad tale ended.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
MAY 1465
Berwick-Upon-Tweed, Northumberland
Guy had retreated to his room after the picnic under the pretense of having a headache. He did have one, though it wasn’t bad enough to shun the company of others. But making small talk with Eleanor and conversing with Hugh as if nothing out of the ordinary were about to occur was more than he could manage. He’d rehearsed his speech dozens of times, but every time he imagined confronting Hugh, his stomach muscles clenched and his conscience gnawed at his heart.
Choosing between duty and love was no easy thing, even if he’d known all along who the victor would be. Hugh would not take the news well, especially now that Kate was with child. Had they attempted to get an annulment before Kate conceived, Hugh might have been easier to convince since he’d then be free to marry again. A new wife meant a new opportunity to make his fortune and start a family. But now, Guy would have to tell Hugh the truth about the child, an insult Hugh would never forgive or forget. Hugh might even wish to resolve this conflict with swords, a fight to the death to preserve his honor. Guy wouldn’t put it past him, and in truth, he might have been driven to do the same had Hugh cheated him of his wife and heir.
Guy sighed, filled with self-loathing. He should have left as soon as Hugh married Kate and stayed away indefinitely. He had no right to love his brother’s wife, nor had he acted honorably when he allowed his love to cross the line between the emotional and the physical. Being with Kate was the most sublime thing he’d ever experienced, but it was also the most underhanded, reprehensible act of his life, and no amount of self-flagellation would ever atone for the injustice he’d done to Hugh. He’d talked Kate into his chosen course of action, but would she ever be happy,even if they managed to secure an annulment? Would she ever forgive herself for the dishonor she’d brought to Hugh and the de Rosel family, or would she blame Guy for bullying her into going against her vows, her faith, and her conscience? Lying with him had been bad enough, but openly telling the world that she’d been unfaithful to her husband, conceived a child with another man, and wished to be excused from her marriage vows because she wished to be with her lover was something else entirely. Perhaps he’d been wrong to push so hard. Kate was torn, and terrified of the consequences of their actions, and perhaps her continued sickness was a manifestation of her internal struggle.
Guy folded his arms behind his head and stared at the tester above him. The die had been cast and no amount of recrimination would alter the situation. If he wanted to live with Kate and be a father to his child—which he did, more than life itself—he had to confront Hugh.
Guy didn’t immediately react to the screams that seemed to reverberate through the walls of the keep. Perhaps Eleanor had seen a rat. She’d never gotten used to the vile creatures, no matter how many of them she’d come across over the years. But the screaming got louder and was followed by the sound of running feet. Something was wrong. Guy sprang to his feet and sprinted through the door and down the stairs.
Everyone seemed to be crowded by Hugh and Kate’s bedchamber. Eleanor was weeping in the doorway, and Alf, Jed, and Walter stood about in stunned silence, staring at something just beyond Eleanor’s shoulder. Nurse was inside, her normally calm voice sounding hysterical and weepy. Guy pushed past Eleanor and exploded into the room, desperate to know what had happened, but he wasn’t prepared for the sight that met his eyes.
Hugh was down on his knees, his arms wrapped about his middle, as if he were trying to hold himself together, his forehead pressed against the wooden bedframe. Guy couldn’t see his face, but he could tell by the heaving of Hugh’s shoulders that he was crying. Nurse stood next to him, her hand on his shoulder as she stared at the bed, keening. Guy advanced into the room, but theurgency to discover what had happened had left him. His heart already knew what he would find, and he wanted to run, without stopping until he exhausted himself enough to fall into a dreamless sleep from which he’d never wake.
