Chapter 28
“What do you think is going to happen?” Felicity asked as she looked over her mother’s shoulder at Catherine and Edward walking down the terrace steps, arm in arm.
Once introductions were made, and the young man’s identity was revealed, conversation had become oddly strained. Felicity and Emily knew nothing about the young man seated across the room from them, and Liam knew barely any more. However, the fiery redhead couldn’t take his eyes from Catherine, and she, in turn, alternated between giddy delight and embarrassment over her lack of decorum. It was Emily who suggested Catherine show Edward the gardens, giving them a chance to speak to each other in private.
“Should they not have a chaperone?” Felicity asked, worriedly.
“Why? He’s a childhood friend, my dear, and I think if Catherine felt unsafe with him, she would have let us know.” Finding no reason to disagree, Felicity repeated her earlier question.
“Who can say?” her mother answered with a shake of her head.
Once Catherine and Edward had disappeared from view, Emily took her daughter’s hand and moved them away from the window. “So tell us what you know about this young lord,” she instructed her son-in-law.
Liam had remained seated, observing with keen interest the reaction Edward’s arrival had produced. Of course, his interest was directed not so much at Lord Barclay, but rather at how Catherine responded to him.
“All I know is that Edward and Catherine have known each other since they were children, growing up on neighboring estates just like we did.” He nodded at his wife. “Well, from Catherine’s obvious delight, we know that to be true,” Felicity said, “but I’m curious how Lord Barclay knew Catherine was here.”
“Rian told him.”
“Rian told him?” Felicity gasped, taken aback.
“Mmm, yes. I gather after his meeting with Lord Barclay he thought it would be improper of him not to tell his lordship exactly where Catherine was, and how to find her.” He gave his wife an apologetic look. “He is a link to Catherine’s past, and quite a strong one from all accounts.”
“And you didn’t think to share this with me?” Felicity huffed.
“I apologize, my darling, but I didn’t want to bother you with something that I wasn’t sure would actually happen. The tone of Rian’s letter seemed to indicate a certain hesitancy on the young man’s part. I think my brother will be most surprised to learn Edward Barclay accepted his offer to visit.”
Somewhat mollified, Felicity asked, “Did Rian happen to say how close this childhood friendship was?”
“Whatever are you thinking?” Emily asked, voicing the concern before her son-in-law could.
“I’m just wondering if an understanding exists between them.” Felicity turned her attention back to Liam. “Well? Did Rian mention anything to that effect?”
“There was never a formal declaration.”
“Nothing formal?” Felicity pounced on the distinction like a cat chasing a bug. “But there is an existing affection between them?”
“I think,” Liam said with a twinkle of amusement, “Catherine has demonstrated that most effectively. Rian believes Lord Barclay still cares for her, but was never in a position to make her an offer until recently.”
“Do you suppose that is what has brought him to our doorstep?” Emily asked with some concern.
“It is, I believe, a safe assumption,” Liam concurred.
Felicity went to stand before the window again. She wanted to be able to judge Catherine’s state of mind the moment she saw her. “I still don’t understand why Rian would tell a potential rival where to find her,” she said.
“Don’t you?” Her mother seemed surprised at her daughter’s lack of insight. It was normally so keen. “He is offering Catherine a choice, and will abide by whatever decision she makes.”
“So, she has forgiven the incident with Isabel?” Liam asked.
Emily picked up her embroidery and held the needle between thumb and forefinger. “Yes, I believe she has, even if she doesn’t quite know it herself yet.”
“I’d wager Rian would not have been so generous with his invitation if he was aware of that!” Felicity said.
Coming to stand behind her, Liam rubbed his wife’s arms reassuringly. “It would be a wager you would lose, my darling,” he chided gently.
“You think knowing Catherine has forgiven him would make no difference to Rian?”
Emily spoke before Liam could answer. Resting her needle she looked at her daughter. “I think even if Rian already knew he was forgiven, he still would have sent young Lord Barclay to Catherine.”
“But he risks losing everything.”
“And no doubt my brother believes what he could gain is worth that risk.”
* * * *
Arm in arm, Catherine and Edward walked through Emily’s formal garden, neither saying a word. Never before had they been at a loss for conversation when in each other’s company, but events had now made them strangers. After a few stilted tries, Catherine halted her steps and looked up at Edward, emotion making her eyes shine too brightly. “It’s alright, Cat,” he hushed reassuringly, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the moisture from her cheek. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s a beautiful day. Let’s simply walk, and enjoy the gardens.”
She squeezed his arm, grateful for his understanding, but then something told her Edward had always understood her. They continued walking, meandering past the meticulous flower beds and through the uniformly shaped hedgerows, until they reached a secluded place far from prying eyes. A massive beech tree, no doubt a sapling when the House of Stuart was restored to the throne, invited them to sit beneath its leafy canopy. Taking off his coat, Edward spread it on the ground, and, after settling his back against the broad, sturdy trunk, he took Catherine in his arms. He held her to him as she wept quietly.
Catherine couldn’t help but be reminded of another pair of arms that had held her while she cried. Edward’s were just as strong, just as safe, but there was something missing, and when the last of her tears had washed out of her, she looked up with a guilty smile. He smiled back, his bright blue eyes twinkling, and taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips and gently kissed her fingertips.
“I have missed you,” he said softly.
“And I you,” Catherine told him.
Although most of her memory had restored itself, gaps still remained. However, Catherine felt her recollection concerning Edward was complete. It was wonderful to be able to speak of things from her past without the need for explanation. Edward knew all the places she described, the memories she recalled. He was an anchor to the past, giving her the freedom to be herself.
She didn’t think that she consciously adopted a façade with either the Connors or the Pelhams, but, if she was honest with herself, she couldn’t be sure. Were the mannerisms she used her normal behavior, or a reflection of theirs? How could she possibly tell the difference when she couldn’t remember what normal felt like? At least with Edward Catherine was confident he would soon tell her if she was behaving in a manner that was not her own. Or that of the person he knew her to be.
Pushing herself back from him, Catherine looked up into his face with a quizzical expression. “Edward, how did you know where to find me?” She would have been amused to know Felicity was asking the very same question.
“Rian Connor told me,” he answered as he studied her reaction. Rian had told him that Catherine was unaware of his visit north, and her puzzled expression confirmed this.
“Rian?” she queried faintly. “You know Rian?”
Edward nodded. “Yes. He came to visit me.”
“He visited you?” She spoke slowly, as if sounding out the words would give her some insight into what she was missing.
“I’m sure he didn’t come with the intention of visiting me, Cat. We met by chance while he was exploring the grounds at The Hall.”
“But why would he be at The Hall?”
“He told me he was looking for information.”
“About what?”
“About you, of course.”
Edward smiled, seeing a familiar furrow appear between her brows. It was the same one that always showed up whenever she was wrestling with a problem. He knew she was trying to decide if he was being deliberately infuriating, or just delighted to have something to tease her about. There was a familiarity to his banter that told her more often than not she found him frustrating, but she decided it didn’t matter. She was too happy to be annoyed with him.
“So what did you tell him…about me?” Heat flooded her face and she turned her head, but not before Edward noticed the blush on her cheeks.
“All that he wanted to know.” His voice became serious with no hint of mockery or goading. He caught her chin with his fingers and gently turned her face back toward him. “He’s a fine man, Cat, and I like him.”
“Yes, he is a fine man, and I like him too.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, but Edward said nothing. Content to simply hold her in his arms, he encouraged her to resume her place against his chest. “Edward, what happened to you after Papa died?” Hearing the steady rhythm of his heart, Catherine could have sworn it skipped a beat. “The servants said you had left, but you know you could have told me why yourself. I would have understood.”
She flinched at the sound of him cursing out loud. Pulling back her head, she saw a rare glimpse of anger filling his normally good natured blue eyes. It lingered for only a moment before being replaced with a weary understanding.
“I did write to you, Cat. I made certain I sent a note to tell you we had just received news of my grandfather’s death, and that I would send further word as soon as I was able.” His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “I take it you never received any of the other letters I wrote, did you?” Catherine shook her head, even though she was overjoyed to hear he had not abandoned her. “Damn my meddling, interfering mother! I should have known better than to trust her where you are concerned.” The anger in his voice was also tinged with sorrow.
“What does your mother have to do with it?” Catherine asked, sitting up and twisting around to look at him.
“She assured me she had arranged to have my letters, all my letters, sent to you.” He looked thoroughly miserable. “Ah, Cat, I have punished myself a thousand times over for that night. If I could go back and change things I would. You do know that, don’t you?”
The anguish in his voice erased all the doubts she hadn’t realized she’d been holding ever since that tragic night. Tears threatened to spill again as Edward told her his version of what had taken place the night of his birthday ball. Apologizing to their guests, many of whom were already staying overnight, Edward had delayed his own departure long enough to pen the note to Catherine, which she never received. He and his father had left within the hour on horseback. His mother was to follow once everyone had departed, but as they galloped south, they ran into a violent storm which soaked them both before they were able to find shelter. Arriving at their destination the next morning, Edward’s father dismissed his mild headache and chills as being of no consequence. By week’s end there were two burials being performed instead of only one.
Consumed by his own grief, Edward reached out to the only person he felt would understand. He did not rebuke Catherine for not responding to him, for she had her own grief to deal with. Her father, too, had died unexpectedly. His mother’s reluctance to leave her husband’s grave, coupled with Edward’s responsibilities as the new Earl, kept them away far longer than he had intended. He did not mention that an overheard, secondhand conversation while meeting with his bankers had facilitated his purchase of The Hall. But by the time he returned, leaving his mother and grandmother consoling each other, Catherine was gone. Bewildered and hurt by her disappearance, Edward felt as if he had another loss to mourn.
“I’m so sorry,” Catherine said, feeling his heartache as keenly as she had felt her own. “I liked your father very much.”
He kissed her cheek. “Hush, it wasn’t your fault.”
The air, heavy with the warmth of the day, covered them like a blanket as they lost themselves in its tranquility. Holding hands, and lying on the sweet-smelling grass side by side, Edward whispered, “Cat, what happened to you? Where did you go?”
Now it was her turn to hesitate, wondering how to answer him. “I don’t know. That part of my memory still eludes me.” She turned her head and gave him a wry smile. “I was hoping that you might be able to tell me, but if I had already left before you returned, then you would not know either.”
“The Hall had to be sold—”
“I’m well aware of that,” she interrupted, “but that alone would not have been sufficient reason for me to leave the place where I grew up. The fact I am here says I obviously made my way south, but why would I venture to a place where I know no one? Can you answer me that?”
Edward sat up, his expression one of confusion as he waved a hand in the air. “So you are saying you do not know either the Connors or the Pelhams?”
Looking slightly embarrassed, Catherine also sat, replying with a nod of her head.
“Then how is it you are with them now?”
“What did Rian tell you?”
“He said you were living with his brother and sister-in-law. That you had suffered a misfortune resulting in some memory loss. He gave no other details.”
“It’s true. Rian found me wandering and alone on the docks of London, and was kind enough to give me shelter.” She gave him a searching look. “He did not tell you any of this?”
Edward shook his head, and then the grin she remembered so well suddenly lit up his face, breaking the somber mood. “Well, thank God you were still able to recognize me!”
Laughing, Catherine ran her fingers through his hair. “As if I could ever forget this.”
The mood between them lightened, even as their discussion reverted once again to a somber tone.
“What happened to you, Cat, before you were found by Mr. Connor?”
“I don’t know, but I am certain that my reason for going to London is linked to whoever it was that hurt me. I am positive the two are connected.”
“Hurt you? What do you mean hurt you?” His nostrils flared as he took hold of her hands.
Edward’s reaction told Catherine that Rian had actually shared only the minimum of information, and she was grateful for his tact. The truth would be better coming from her. She would be able to gauge just how much to tell her childhood friend. It was hard to know how to begin, but then she reminded herself this was Edward. He had known her all her life.
Seeing her hesitate, Edward spoke. “Cat, if it’s too distressful, you don’t have to tell me—”
She put her fingers against his mouth to silence him. He pressed his lips against the smooth skin and she smiled.
“It’s all right, Edward. My concern is for you hearing it.”
He responded by reaching for her and Catherine allowed herself to be pulled back against him for no other reason than it felt good to be in his arms. As she began, she felt as if she was relating a tragedy that had happened to someone else. A distant acquaintance known to both of them. In many ways it was a repetition of that awful day with Rian, when she lay in his arms and told him, but there was a difference between then and now. A difference she felt at once.
If, for some reason, Edward decided what had happened to her had now tainted her in some way, then so be it. She would be hurt and disappointed, but she would move on with her life and not hold him at fault. Had Rian shown a similar feeling, she would have been devastated. And that was enough of a difference to be meaningful.