CHAPTER EIGHT
Lily had not expected the journey to Ireland to be so disheartening. The voyage across the Irish Sea wasn’t so terrible, but she had been shocked by so many faces of starving men, women, and children. Her sister had warned her about the conditions after the potato famine, but she had vastly underestimated the devastating effects.
James had arranged for a coach to bring them across Ireland into County Mayo, where the Ashton estate lay. The railway did not yet extend westward, so they had little choice but to travel along the roads. It would take at least a week to reach Ashton, after they had already traveled across England during the past fortnight.
Lily’s arm was healing, but she tried not to think of Matthew. In her heart, she had known he was not himself—but his actions had terrified her.
This morning, since the skies were sunny, her brother, James, had decided to ride with the driver. It gave Lily the chance to be alone with her mother inside the coach. Iris sat across from her and smiled warmly. “You miss him, don’t you?”
It was as if her mother had read her mind. Lily tried to feign ignorance. “Of whom do you speak?”
“Why, Matthew, of course. I can tell that you’re thinking of him.”
Although Lily wanted to believe that Iris was imagining things, it was quite clear that this was one of her better days. “Why do you say that?”
Her mother smiled. “Because I know you, Lily dear. And you mustn’t blame him for what happened.” Her gaze drifted down to her healing arm.
“Matthew was not to blame,” she lied. “I fell, and that’s how I hurt my arm.”
Iris’s expression didn’t change. “A person’s mind is a powerful thing. And when you become lost in your thoughts, the ordinary world doesn’t exist. Dreams become real, and what is real becomes a dream.” She reached out to squeeze her daughter’s hand. “I know what it is to be imprisoned by the visions of your mind. It’s more frightening than anyone could know.”
The clarity of Iris’s words made Lily’s heart ache. “Are you. . .aware of the moments when you’ve lost what is real?”
Her mother released her hand and stared out the window. “Sometimes I have no memory of what I’ve said or done. Other times, I dream of what happened, and it embarrasses me. I only know if it was real after I’ve spoken to someone who was there.”
Iris’s eyes gleamed with tears. “You cannot imagine the guilt or humiliation you feel. But I do believe that Matthew needs you. And if he was. . .somehow responsible for hurting you, you must know that he did not mean it.” Her voice lowered in volume. “The voices catch hold of you and whisper. And it’s hard not to listen when you believe what they say.”
Her words sent a chill over Lily’s spine. On the night Matthew had hurt her, she’d been so terrified, she didn’t want to see him ever again. But her mother was right—he had not been himself.
“He drank medicine that night,” Lily heard herself confess. “And I could tell from his expression that it affected him. His eyes were not right, and he appeared to be caught in a haze.”
Her mother nodded. “He lost himself, didn’t he?”
“He believed I was one of his torturers. He was trying to push me away, to free himself from the madness.” She let out a sigh. “Do not tell James,” she warned. “He would kill Matthew for this.”
“I will not.” Her mother gave a wry smile. “James believes I’m half-potted, and I’m not certain he’s wrong.”
“You have good days and bad days,” Lily admitted. “And I do not blame you for it. We manage as best we can.”
“I do miss your father,” Iris admitted. “It’s an empty hole inside of me. Without him, I feel like only a piece of myself.”
Her mother’s word resonated, mirroring the way Lily had felt when Matthew was away in India. And now that he had returned, she still didn’t know how to fill the emptiness.
“I miss him, too,” she admitted.
“And Matthew?” her mother prompted. “Do you miss him?”
Lily leaned back against the seat, lowering her shoulders. She didn’t want to think of Matthew anymore. Her heart was too broken, her spirits too confused. “I don’t know.”
She had tried to put it all behind her, but she could not stop her mind from wondering about him. It had not ended well between them.
As the coach passed through the town, the stench of rotting potatoes in the fields was unmistakable. She raised a handkerchief to her nose and realized that everything could be far worse than it was.
She had come to Ireland to celebrate the wedding of her sister to the man she loved. It was meant to be a time of joy, not sorrow. And for now, she would look to the future and put the past behind her.
Two weeks later
“Rose, you look beautiful,” Lily proclaimed. She hadn’t expected to feel this emotional at the sight of her sister wearing a wedding gown, but her eyes welled up at seeing Rose so happy. This was the sort of wedding she had wanted for herself and Matthew before the illusion had shattered.
Her arm had been healing, and now it felt only tender. She’d claimed it was an accident from falling down the stairs. Everyone believed her, except for a small few who knew the truth.
Lily bent down and smoothed an invisible wrinkle from the ivory gown, hiding her tears. Her mother wore a bright purple gown, and a dreamy smile covered her face. It seemed that today she was lost in visions that made her happy. Perhaps she was remembering her own wedding day. As long as her mother did not become agitated with moments of madness, Lily believed all would be well.
Rose wore a long veil made of Irish lace loaned to her by Iain’s mother, Moira, Lady Ashton. The matron had been quiet and pensive ever since they had arrived. At first, Lady Ashton had been opposed to the marriage between her son and Rose. But ever since she had returned to Ashton, there had been a change in the woman. It might be because Rose had promised to help her daughters find husbands in London.
But more likely, Lily suspected that Moira had begun to regret her actions, accepting her future daughter-in-law. Even now, the woman stood back from them as if she didn’t feel that she had a place here. Something was troubling Moira, and she eyed Rose with uncertainty.
While her sister was occupied, Lily stepped closer to Lady Ashton. “Are you all right?” she murmured beneath her breath.
“Yes,” the woman answered. “It’s only that I never thought to see that veil worn again. I didn’t wear it during my second wedding.” Her expression held sadness.
“Was it lost?” Lily asked.
Moira shook her head. “I didn’t want to wear it, for it only reminded me of my first marriage. I suppose I knew the second marriage wouldn’t last long, for Garrick was older than me. I only married him to provide for the boys. He gave me two daughters, but he died soon after Colleen was born. They never knew him.” She let out a sigh and braved a smile again. “I am glad that Rose will wear the veil now. It may bring them happiness.”
Lily glanced outside the bedroom window and saw that the bridegroom was already walking outside the manor house, while hundreds of guests gathered. Rose and Iain had decided to hold the ceremony outside, so all the tenants could witness their union.
Rose joined her at the window and tension knotted her face at the sight of so many people. “Where did they all come from? And how will we feed them all?”
James moved to her side. “Leave that to me.” He told her about the supplies they had brought with them. Then he related a story about an investment Iris had made with Evangeline’s father. “Cain Sinclair stepped in while I was away,” James continued. “He wanted to ensure that our family was provided for, and now we need not worry about money. I am grateful for his intervention.”
“So am I.” Rose smiled, revealing her relief. Her mother reached out to touch her hair, and the soft smile on her face held clarity.
“It’s almost time for the wedding,” Lily interrupted. “Are you ready?”
But Lady Ashton’s expression held wariness, as if she was uncertain of whether to go. Instead, she asked Rose, “May I speak with you a moment?”
Lily suspected that Moira was taking an opportunity to bridge the distance between herself and Rose. It boded well for their future, and Lily smiled to herself.
She guided their mother outside the door, taking Iris’s arm, while James walked ahead of them.
“One day it will be you taking vows,” her mother murmured.
“I think I am destined to be a spinster.” Lily tucked her mother’s hand into her arm, helping her down the stairs. “I shall give in to my urges to become a bluestocking and be wedded to books.” She had spent the past few weeks reading The Pharmacopoeia of the Royal College of Physicians of London. Thus far, she had learned how to make extracts and compound powders, and the distraction had been exactly what she needed.
“Oh no, my dear.” Iris clucked her tongue. “You cannot possibly remain unmarried. It isn’t natural.” She was muttering something about sharing a man’s bed, and Lily cut her off.
“Let’s not speak of it, Mother.” The last thing she wanted was her mother’s advice on lovemaking. Her cheeks grew warm at the thought. “We will go and enjoy Rose’s wedding day.”
But Iris stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “No, Lily, there was something I was meant to give to you. What was it now?”
She had no idea what her mother meant, but it would not be the first time Iris had been unable to remember. “Do not worry about it. We’ll go and join the wedding guests. James will be there.” Her brother had a way of calming their mother, perhaps because Iris felt protected.
But her mother shook her head. “He gave it to me. It’s very, very important.” Her eyes filled with anxiety, and she began searching her gown for a pocket that wasn’t there.
“It’s nothing, Mother. I promise you.”
“No!” Iris stood her ground, her expression turning fiery. “I have to remember this. I will not let myself forget. I promised him.”
“Promised who?”
Iris began clenching and unclenching her hands, growing more agitated. A tear rolled down her wrinkled cheek. “Why can’t I remember anything, Lily? What is wrong with me?”
“Could you have put it in your reticule?” she asked gently.
Iris opened it, but there was nothing inside. She gritted her teeth, and Lily feared that if her mother didn’t find it, she would cause a scene.
“What if I return to your room and search? Would that help?”
Her mother shook her head. “I didn’t leave it there. It was far too valuable.” She wiped away her tears, and it was then that Lily caught sight of a silver chain beneath her mother’s high-necked gown. Her pulse began to quicken, and she reached out to touch it. “Was it this?”
Iris pulled the chain out from her gown and brightened. “Why, yes. That’s it, exactly. He told me to show you this ring. He said it had once belonged to you. And that he was terribly sorry and wanted to speak with you.”
The moment she saw Matthew’s signet ring, Lily’s skin flushed with a blend of nervous energy. How had her mother received the ring? Had he traveled across England and Ireland to bring it to her? She could not imagine him making such a journey—especially not after all that had happened.
“Is he here?” Lily ventured.
Iris shrugged. “I cannot remember.” She took off the chain and put it around Lily’s neck. The gold ring was heavy, but the familiar weight brought back all the emotions she’d tried to forget. She tucked it beneath her bodice, not understanding the meaning of Matthew’s gift.
Lily walked with Iris outside into the morning sunlight. She searched among the wedding guests for a glimpse of Matthew. It was possible that he wasn’t here, that he had simply given her mother the ring before they’d left for Ireland. But somehow, she didn’t believe that.
She guided Iris to stand beside her brother, and Lily stood on the opposite side of them. The people of Ireland were dressed in clothing hardly better than rags, and their faces were gaunt with hunger. Even so, she saw young boys fidgeting with excitement while their mothers gripped their wrists in warning to behave. The delicious aroma of the wedding feast was a distraction for all of them, and more than once, the people glanced toward the long tables set up for the celebration after the wedding.
James looked far better than he had when he’d returned from India. His brown hair was still lighter from the burning sun, and his face had lost some of its tan. He had filled out from eating better food, and it did seem that he was recovering from his own ordeal.
There was a glint in his eyes, as if he knew something she didn’t. Lily leaned in, keeping her voice low. “Where is he?”
“Where is who?” Her brother stared straight ahead, but she could tell he was trying to keep something from her.
“You know who I mean. Where is Matthew?” She reached across her sling to touch his arm.
“I suppose he is among the guests. He was invited to the wedding, after all.” Her brother turned and scrutinized her face.
Lily looked around at the sea of faces until at last she spied Matthew at the very back of the crowd. He wore a simple black coat and trousers, and he met her gaze evenly. Then he glanced at her arm, and a look of regret crossed his face.
She ought to be afraid of him after what happened. Logic ruled that she should. And yet, despite everything, she knew he hadn’t been aware of his surroundings or of anything else. That night, he had been caught up in his nightmares, unable to grasp reality.
It reminded her of Iris’s words. The voices catch hold of you and whisper. And it’s hard not to listen when you believe what they say.
She turned back to the wedding party and saw Iain Donovan, Lord Ashton, waiting upon her sister’s arrival. The man was dressed in a frock coat of dark blue with a white waistcoat and a red rose in his lapel. His face held awed wonder when he saw her sister approaching.
Rose wore a long-sleeved white gown with a narrow waistline and a flared skirt that billowed out into a train. Her reddish-brown hair was caught up in an intricate knot, and she wore pearls around her throat. Moira’s lace veil cascaded over Rose’s shoulders, down the back of her gown.
But it was the look of love shared between Rose and Iain that made Lily’s heart ache. The groom looked at his bride as if she were his reason for being alive. And the joy upon her sister’s face held a happiness that went beyond words.
The large crowd gathered as close as they could to the bride and groom, listening as they spoke their vows. From behind her, she sensed a shifting movement of people, and then she became aware of Matthew’s presence. Her brother glanced back at him and gave a nod of acknowledgment, but Lily said nothing. She was too confused by her own emotions.
From behind her, Matthew’s hand bumped against her uninjured arm. Then she heard him whisper, “Forgive me, Lily.”
She stiffened, not wanting to interrupt the ceremony. His hand brushed against hers again, but she pulled it away. She wasn’t ready to face the emotions—not yet. But she would have to confront Matthew today and decide what was to be done.
After the wedding ceremony was over, her sister kissed Iain, and all around them came cheers of happiness. Bagpipers played a merry tune, and Iain lifted her up, turning her in a slow circle. Her sister laughed with happiness, her veil getting tangled up as her new husband embraced her.
It was the perfect distraction, and Lily hurried forward to help her sister. After Iain finished kissing his new wife, Lily said, “I’ll take your veil for you, Rose.”
Her sister beamed with happiness. “Yes, thank you.”
Rose helped her remove the pins holding it to her hair. Then Lily gathered up the long veil under one arm. The newly married couple walked among the crowd toward the tables set out for feasting while Lily returned to the manor house with the veil folded up as best she could.
Within moments, Matthew was at her side. “May I help you with that?”
“It’s not heavy. I can manage.” She started to walk past him, but he stepped in her path.
“Lily, I’ve traveled hundreds of miles to see you. I came to apologize for what happened.” His tone held utter sincerity, and she paused a moment.
Upon his cheek, the reddened scar had begun to fade. His brown hair was trimmed back, and he had shaved. She detected the faint scent of sandalwood, and his eyes held the familiar weariness that plagued him.
She could tell him no, refusing to see him. But what good would that do? Better to face the demons than try to bury them. “Walk with me inside, and we will talk.”
At the house, he opened the door for her and allowed her to enter first. Inside, several maids hurried past them, carrying steaming trays of food. All of the servants were attending the wedding, and Lily smiled at the sight of an elegant three-tiered cake. The cook was careful to balance it, and two servants opened the door for her.
“I’ll put this in my sister’s room,” she started to say, but Matthew took the veil from her and placed it on a side table.
“Just a moment, Lily.” He glanced around the hall, and most of the servants were either back in the kitchen or outside. “I wanted to ask if you are all right.”
She lifted her arm to show him. “It’s healing.”
He was quiet for a moment, watching her. “I thought about what you said, that I should stay away from you. Believe me that I never, ever meant to harm you.” He let out a slow breath. “I took a tonic I never should have drunk. Dr. Fraser said it was opium mixed with gin.” He eyed her and added, “Words won’t change what happened to you. But I did want you to know that I am sorry.”
“I know you are.” For a time, she heard only the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. He seemed unsure of what to say now, and finally, she added, “I wish I knew how to help you, Matthew.”
He studied her for a while. “I would like to begin again as friends, Lily. Even if it is never more than that, when I am near you, I don’t feel so distant from the world.”
His brown eyes clouded over with regret and a quiet resolution. “You may never forgive me, and I understand that. But I don’t want to lose your friendship.”
She didn’t know how to answer him. A part of her was angry that he had suffered so much during his time in India, that his normal life had been stolen from him, bringing him so low. It was difficult to trust him now, but she still cared deeply for Matthew.
“I need time,” she said at last. “For two years, I believed I would be your wife. That we would marry properly when you returned, and it would be me standing beside you in a church, speaking our vows.” She nodded back toward the wedding guests outside. “I feel as if that part of me is lost now. And I don’t know who I am or what I want anymore.”
She pulled out the chain holding his signet ring and removed it from her throat, returning it to him. “I will be your friend again, Matthew. But I cannot promise you anything more.”