Page 52 of The Forsaken
“Is this why you invited me here today?” Sylvia asked. Quinn felt the shift in her attitude; she was about to go on the offensive and act the victim.
“Yes, it is. I needed to hear it from you first, before I began my own investigation. Will you tell me, or do I need to find out for myself?”
Sylvia sat back and studied Quinn for a moment, almost as if she were deciding if it was worth the bother. She must have realized that their relationship, fragile as it had been, was now broken beyond repair. No matter what story she spun, Quinn had caught her in a lie that was too big to explain away. Nothing Sylvia said could undo the damage, and no apology could ever soothe the hurt.
“Yes, Quinn, it’s true. I gave birth to twins that day. As I said before, I never received any antenatal care, as I never went to the clinic, so I didn’t know I was carrying twins until the midwife examined me during labor. I was shocked, I can tell you that. If dealing with one baby was terrifying, the thought of two sent me over the edge. I was seventeen, alone and scared.”
“You didn’t have to be alone. You had a father who loved you. And you could have gone through the proper adoption channels. The social workers would have helped you, and you would have had some say in who got your babies.”
“Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, isn’t it?” Sylvia replied. “I’m not proud of what I did, but there’s nothing I can do to change that now.”
“So, what happened?” Quinn demanded.
“You were born first. You were healthy and strong, but your sister, who was born twenty minutes later, wasn’t as lucky. The midwife thought the reason she was bluish and had trouble breathing was because the cord had been around her neck, but that wasn’t it. Even after an hour, she was still gasping for breath, and it was clear that something was terribly wrong. The midwife urged me to call an ambulance, but if I did that, all my careful planning and hiding would have been for nothing. Everyone would know I’d had children. So, I asked her to stay with you and took Quentin to the hospital. I put her down on a chair in a high-traffic area and pretended to go to the loo. Then I slipped out of the emergency waiting area and watched through the window. I waited until the baby was picked up by a passing nurse, who instantly summoned a doctor, then left. She was in good hands and would receive the careshe needed. I returned to my room and took you to the cathedral in the morning. You know the rest.”
“What happened to her?” Quinn asked. She was shocked to the core by Sylvia’s matter-of-fact recital of the facts. Her first priority had been protecting herself rather than getting medical help for a struggling baby.
“I don’t know.” Sylvia shrugged in ignorance. “I never went back. I assume she got adopted, just like you did.”
Quinn stared at the woman who’d given birth to her. Quinn had seen many dangerous and corrupt people in her visions, but those people were usually driven by love, hate, jealousy, or fear. Sylvia was driven by self-preservation. She hadn’t cared enough to make sure her babies got a good home, or even to make sure an ailing child recovered. She had simply walked away and gone on with the business of being a teenager.
“I think I’d like you to leave now,” Quinn said. Her voice sounded cool and detached, and oddly, her heart was as well. She’d learned what she needed to learn. The end.
“Will we speak again?” Sylvia asked, clearly shocked by Quinn’s unexpected behavior.
“Perhaps one day, but it won’t be any time soon,” Quinn replied. “I need time to come to terms with this, and to find my sister.”
“May I call you?” Sylvia’s voice shook with distress, but Quinn no longer cared.
“I’d rather you didn’t. Thank you for the tarts,” Quinn added as she escorted Sylvia to the door.
“Quinn, I’m sorry. Truly, I am,” Sylvia said. “I wish I could meet you all over again, and start fresh.”
“So do I, Sylvia. So do I.”
THIRTY-ONE
JUNE 1461
Berwick-Upon-Tweed, Northumberland
Kate carefully edged out of bed and pulled on the blue woolen gown. The weather outside was improving, but it was always cold within the castle walls and she found herself gravitating to warmer spots, sitting by the hearth or by the window when the sun was out.
She pushed her feet into her shoes and pinned up her hair before creeping from the bedchamber. Hugh was a sound sleeper and liked to sleep well into the morning hours, but Kate could rarely sleep past sunrise. She began her day by going to the chapel, which had become her special place. The chapel wasn’t in use, since the family preferred to go to the parish church on Sundays and Feast Days. It was the only time during the course of the week when they came in contact with people from the neighboring estates, an opportunity not to be missed. Kate was accustomed to the slow rhythm of the priory, but Eleanor and Hugh chafed at the solitude and looked forward to socializing and exchanging bits of news and gossip with the neighbors.
Being bedbound, Guy hadn’t gone to church the first few weeks he was home, but he’d been coming to services since the wedding, more because he was going mad with boredom than because he felt the need to commune with the Lord. Joan herded Aileen, Jed, and Walter as well, mindful of their spiritual needs, but Alf always remained behind, fearful of leaving the keep completely unattended. He locked the gates and didn’t open them again until the church party returned.
The castle chapel had been added about a hundred years ago, centuries after the original keep had been erected on thisparcel of land. It was small and silent, and had never been intended for use by all the inhabitants, only those who wished to pray in solitude. There was a wooden altar with a silver cross and two prie-dieux upholstered in worn claret velvet. The prie-dieux had seen their share of knees, mostly female, Kate surmised. The only light in the chapel came from a round stained-glass window set high in the wall above the altar. It was the chapel’s only luxury, aside from the cross, and Kate often gazed up at it after finishing her prayers. The bright colors gave her hope, and reminded her of Holystone Priory and her happy time there.
Kate never complained, but she longed for the comfort of daily prayer. Her marriage wasn’t unhappy by any means, but it wasn’t at all what she had expected. Hugh was courteous, but he never really confided in her. He wasn’t a man who was comfortable around women; he treated them much as he treated the dogs, with restrained affection and a complete indifference to their thoughts. He spoke to Guy at length, and sometimes chatted with Walter while they practiced in the yard, and even with Adam, whom Hugh had begun to teach fighting with a wooden sword, but never to Kate. Hugh was kind and affectionate to the boy, which allowed Kate to hope that he would be a good father to their children. Despite his frequent attentions, she had not yet gotten with child. It was early days yet, but she knew Hugh was disappointed, having assumed it would happen right away.
Kate didn’t enjoy lying with Hugh, but she didn’t dread it either. She knew his pattern by now and simply allowed her mind to drift until he was finished. He didn’t expect much of her in the bedchamber. All she had to do was welcome him into her body and lie still until he was done. Hugh always kissed her afterward and went straight to sleep, leaving Kate to her own thoughts, which were often gloomy.
The Earl of Warwick was still very much on Hugh’s mind; she knew that since she’d overheard him mention the earl to Guy on more than one occasion. The invitation to the wedding had been Hugh’s opening overture, and he intended to try again when the time was right. Kate dreaded being used as bait to facilitate anintroduction to the earl, since she’d never actually met him in person, and didn’t relish being treated like a poor relation to be fobbed off at the earliest opportunity, but Hugh wouldn’t be deterred.
She hadn’t heard anything from her father, despite sending several letters, which Walter had dutifully delivered to the Grange. Walter always returned empty-handed, having been refused an audience with Lord Dancy, so he couldn’t say with any certainty if her father had actually read the letters or simply thrown them on the fire. Kate was desperate for news of her mother, so when she’d sent the last letter, she’d asked Walter to stop into the church in Belford and inquire after Lady Dancy from Father Phillip. She was sad to learn that Father Phillip had passed away in May and a new priest had taken his place, a Father John, who was reluctant to share anything about the family with a young man he didn’t know.
Walter, being a clever lad, had decided to stop into the tavern for a tankard of ale and a chat with the proprietor, who remembered Hugh and Kate quite well, and was eager to talk once enticed by the glimmer of silver. Walter was able to discover that Lady Dancy had died at the end of April, just about the time Kate and Hugh were married, having never recovered from the shock of losing her sons. Kate assumed that her father was stricken with grief, but even in his darkest hour, he still refused any communication from her. She prayed that, in time, Lord Dancy’s stance toward her might soften, especially if Hugh proved himself loyal to the Yorkist king, which he fully intended to do.
