Authors: Diane Davis White
Hannah paused only a moment before she fled the room, her anger fleeing as well, as she lifted her skirts to aid her progress and ran along the hall, calling for Dobson, sending the footman at the entry to find the doctor.
"But first fetch Mary Strongbow. Hurry man, your master is dying!" She came to a breathless halt as Darwin rounded the corner, having heard her shouts. "Get to the study... I shall find Dobson... "
"He is not here Milady... 'tis his week off... went to see his mother, he did." Darwin spoke to her over his shoulder as he headed for the study.
"Wait... Darwin!"
"Yes Milady?"
"Where is this cottage... the one in the woods?"
"Through the trees and turn left at the pond, but you could never find it in the dark. May I ask why?"
"Go there... bring back the young master... " She noticed the pallor of the butler's face as she spoke, but had no time to soften the blow. "He arrived just today and is indeed alive. Fetch him... or send someone immediately."
With her edict spoken, Hannah turned and went back to the study, and hurried to the Marquis, falling next to his chair and putting her arms round him, tears streaming from her eyes.
"Milord... I did not mean it... please, forgive me. You have been kindness itself, and I have been selfish... please... " Hannah was not of a nature to sustain anger, for she was too gentle and forgiving, in most things, at least. She could not hate this man who lay dying in her arms.
She cradled his head as he struggled to breathe and when Darwin entered a moment later, he helped her to stretch the Marquis on the carpet in front of the fire, for the couch was to short to accommodate his length.
Hannah placed a pillow beneath his head and sat on the floor, holding his hands, whispering to him. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at her. "You are no longer a girl... "
He smiled faintly and sighed. Afraid it was his last breath she was hearing... she prodded his eyelids, one after the other, and saw a flicker of life there. "Milord... David comes... I have sent for him. Please hold on. Your son is coming."
"Hannah, child..." his voice was barely a whisper of sound. "Forgive... me."
"Shush... save your strength. I have already forgiven, for you are no more guilty than I in this matter. I have sent for Mary Strongbow, and she will heal you well. Until then, you must rest, good husband."
She used the familiar term of endearment, brushing back his thin white hair. "Just rest then, and all will be well."
Hannah knew not how long she sat upon the floor, listening to his labored breathing, but it seemed an eternity as each breath he took seemed like his last. Her tears fell upon his face as she rocked him, holding his head to her breast one moment, then carefully laying him back upon the cushion, only to reach for him again when she thought he had expired.
Darwin hovered nearby, tears in his own eyes, and waited for the arrival of the man who was now to be master in this house. The lies and deceit had come full circle and Darwin, in his own good time, would reveal what he knew and set all right once more.
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* * * * *
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A gentle hand brushed her shoulder and a wave of longing beset Hannah, even at this time of tragedy. The hand moved to her brow, brushing the wispy hair back that had fallen from her braid, then moved again to her arm, drawing her up and away from the old man.
She did not resist, but moved aside as David knelt by his father. In her turn, she touched his shoulder then moved away, leaving the two men alone. Mary Strongbow came in shortly after and sat with her, eyes glued to the old Marquis, keeping her silent vigil, watching the men she loved. Hannah reached out to squeeze her hand, and Mary clung to her, but spoke not a word.
A stranger entered the room, assisting Gillian Strongbow, and Hannah looked at him in some surprise, for he was most familiar to her, though she could not place him. Mary Strongbow gestured to him, and the man came to her chair, where he bent to listen to her whispered speech.
He nodded and went off with a quick stride. A moment later, two footmen came in with a door they had removed from somewhere in the house, and lifted the Marquis onto it, carrying him to his bed.
David stepped aside and looked at his mother. She motioned him to sit, then turned to follow the marquis, looking back at the others in the room for a moment. "I will sit with him. Carlton has gone to fetch my herbs. When the doctor arrives, send him along to me."
David moved to the fireside chair opposite the couch where Hannah sat. Gillian Strongbow, still groggy from his libations, sat in the deep lounge chair that Hannah had once had trouble getting up from. His head nodded sleepily, and he was soon snoring softly. Hannah allowed her eyes to roam the entire room, but could not look at the man across from her. A pulse beat in her throat and her breathing was difficult.
For his part, David could not tear his eyes from Hannah, and willed her to look at him, though she resisted the impulse he fed her with his gaze. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs, then uncrossed them once more, and wished for his pipe, which he had left behind in the cottage. He then shifted in his seat and accepted the glass that Darwin handed him.
Darwin had been reading, for he was wont to know all he could of the family he served. His eyes drew to the papers on the desk and David followed his gaze. The butler raised his eyebrows and tossed his head in that direction, his meaning clear.
David nodded imperceptibly, then returned his gaze to Hannah, who was staring at him in a very strange way. He cleared his throat once more and began to speak.
"Milady, I am sure that your husband will soon recover... "
"Don't call him that."
"What? Call him what?"
"My... husband."
"I vow I do not understand."
"Then I shall explain."
"Pray do, madam, for I am totally perplexed by your words."
Darwin intervened at that moment. "Excuse me Master David, but I believe you would do well to read this." He handed over the document.
David's eyes scanned the paper and his face paled at what he saw. "Good Lord, how could he do such a thing?" He chanced a look at Hannah but her eyes were downcast upon her hands, folded tightly in her lap. "What does all of this mean? Darwin... how come you to be privy to this?"
"I could not help but read it sir, for it was before my eyes all the time I stood waiting for your father to come to his senses... while Milady held his head... "
"Don't call me that."
"What? I beg your pardon Milady, but I have always called you so."
"Yes, however, it would seem, Darwin, that I am not Milady at all. Nor have I ever been."
Drawing himself up, he fixed the young woman with a gaze that was more than reproachful and bowed in her direction as he spoke. "Milady," he emphasized the word, "... you will soon know otherwise."
"Darwin, old fellow, stop talking in riddles. What do you mean?" David, irritated—along with all the other things he was feeling at the moment—sounded a wee bit strident.
The same emotions that Hannah had experienced earlier, he was experiencing now. Hope, faith, expectancy... and a guarded sort of joy. But as his father lay dying, he could not expend much on that particular emotion at the moment.
"You will know tomorrow evening, for I have sent for the solicitor, sir. I... took the liberty—for the circumstances appear to warrant it—and sent Gates off just under an hour ago."
The servant looked at the clock on the fire mantle and back to David. "He should arrive in High street by daylight and has been instructed to rouse the attorney and drag him from his bed, if necessary." With a small cough into his hand, Darwin retired from the room, saying no more.
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* * * * *
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Left alone, with only the sleeping Gillian to chaperone them, the couple fell into a deep silence, suddenly very shy with each other, the knowledge just gained humming between them, unspoken.
It seemed an hour, but was only minutes before Carlton returned and went to whisper to his employer. David nodded and the servant retired to the other side of the room where he fetched a blanket discarded by the footmen when they moved the Marquis and covered the old gentleman sleeping in the chair.
Then Carlton sat himself nearby and leaned back, closing his eyes, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. And though he did not sleep, he appeared to. He waited, listening, and was disappointed in the silence from the other side of the room. Carlton was extremely curious about this couple and the mystery of events surrounding them.
Finally, David spoke, seeing the fatigue that lined Hannah's face. "Perhaps it would be well if you went to your chamber, Milady. It could be hours, you know, before my mother summons us... one way or the other. I would that you were rested, for you look quite done in."
"You are right, of course, but I feel that I should stay... "
Her voice, like his own, was stilted and very formal. She longed to lay her head upon his shoulder, but kept her gaze from him, lest he read her intention there.
She was more than embarrassed by the turn of events; she was mortified. This then, was her husband and had been all the while. It was a strange thought and she chanced a glance at him, only to find him looking at her, his eyes mirroring her thought.
She blushed and looked away.
"Shall I send for a blanket? You could, you know, just lie down upon the couch, if you prefer not to leave... "
His eyes burned with unspoken questions... and something more.
"Yes, that is what I shall do." She rose from the chair and went to the small couch, passing so close to David that he could identify her scent... that special something about Hannah that was like no other woman. He wanted to touch her as she passed him, but the time for that was far off, if indeed, it would ever occur.
Darwin, standing at attention outside the door, came through with a blanket and placed it on the end of the couch where Hannah had curled up, already asleep. Quite ill at ease about spreading the coverlet over his mistress, Darwin thought there was something rather intimate in the act that he wished to avoid.
David, seeing the hesitation, came up from his chair and pulled the cover over the girl himself, gently tucking it beneath her chin.
He stood a moment looking down at her, and remembered how he had reached for her in the darkness, how the cover had been pulled high—as it was now—and how he had removed it.
And all the while, she had been his bride, had he only known it. His eyes went to the ceiling as he thought of the little boy sleeping in the rooms above, and how that child was truly his and no bastard.
Though he had been protected from such a branding, that he was legally David's gave him a feeling of peace—peace was shattered as David realized the child would never know that he was indeed, his father. For how to explain to a five-year-old the duplicity and scheming that had taken place in order to give him life?
Chapter Eighteen
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Mary did not sit near the bed, but lay upon it, her hand over the heart of the man she had both loved and hated for a good part of her life. The irregular pulse fluttering beneath her fingertips and the scratchy, ragged breathing told her it was nearly time.
She had brought her herbs and salves and given him what she could, and though he had improved in his breathing, there was nothing she could do for his heart. The tired old doctor had come and listened, telling her what she already knew.