Chapter Twenty-Six

Proposing to My Wife

Wycliff’s carriage couldn’t arrive at Nineteen Fournier fast enough. Ruth had sent for him. He had the ring in his pocket and a marriage license freshly signed by the archbishop.

Ruth’s note looked rushed. Had she just come to realize that they were meant to be? To marry her again couldn’t undo what she’d suffered, but it was a start. He’d make her happy. He would.

His carriage stopped outside Nineteen Fournier, but his excitement dimmed. Another carriage sat out front.

He had a bad feeling.

Lawden saluted. “Good luck, my lord.”

Wycliff nodded and wished luck upon himself. “Be alert. Uncle hasn’t been jailed. And Nickie is wounded. That’s a lethal combination.”

He charged up the steps, anticipating Ruth in his arms…his bed…his life, forever.

Clancy opened the door. “Afternoon, my lord.”

Like normal, he took Wycliff’s hat and cape.

The fellow had his hands out as if to take his sjambok, but Wycliff waved him off. “I’ll keep it.”

The sjambok was an extension of his power, and he was too on edge to lower his guard. Nothing was settled. “Where’s Mrs. Wilky?”

“The parlor, my lord. Shall I announce you?”

“No. I’ll go to her. Thank you, Clancy.” Wycliff straightened the daisy he’d put in his buttonhole. Seizing a big breath, he pushed open the door. “Mrs. Wilky.”

She didn’t look up. Her arm was about Mrs. Johnson. Both women wept.

The sound of it, throaty, whimpering, reminded him of Cicely the night Mama had died. She’d been so young, but Wycliff had had to comfort her while his father had made arrangements. It had been many hours, too many before he’d been alone to grieve. He’d met Ruth on the docks that night. It was a sign.

“Ladies…”

There was no acknowledgment, but Mrs. Johnson’s sobs turned more violent and angry, if tears could be anything but sorrowful.

He closed the door again hard. “Ladies.” He went in front of them and stooped to eye level with the seated women. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Johnson, for your loss.”

“Are you?” The widow came at him, arms swinging.

He caught her hands and pulled them to her sides. “I’m sorry. Johnson could’ve reinvented himself with your strength.”

She tore away. “I wouldn’t have to be in this position if you had helped, if you had eased the credit.”

“Johnson had friends, the men who helped him build his stolen empire. He shouldn’t have needed an enemy’s mercy to survive. Sometimes judgement has to happen.”

“Those friends will all be bankrupted. That’s my only consolation. For Ruth’s sake, I hope you are as clever as you appear. I heard the Wilkinsons. They came to kiss hands and say sorry. I know fakes.” She went to the table and picked up a ledger. “They came for this. I brought it to Ruth instead.”

“Yes, and she brought a message from Madame Talease, too.”

His poor Ruth looked distant and shaken.

Mrs. Johnson handed him the ledger. “If you can use this to bury Soulden Wilkinson like you did my husband, do it.”

The widow moved to the door.

“Mrs. Johnson, here is something to help with expenses.” He went to his purse and pulled out five guineas. “Again, I am sorry.”

Her hand fisted about the coins. “Milly done come up before. Me and this baby, we’re going to figure things out.”

She walked out with her head high, clutching the coins and her baby bump.

Wycliff had the feeling she would be fine.

He closed the door and went back to Ruth.

Her spectacles were on the table. Was she trying not to see him?

He put the ledger next to them and waited. “You sent for me?”

Cold, isolating quiet. Nothing.

He rubbed at his face. Counted to ten, then twenty, then listened to the clock’s ticktocks.

“Mrs. Wilky, I take it you haven’t forgiven me.”

“Where were you?” Her voice was calm as she brushed at her eyes. “Four years is a long time.”

“I told you. At sea. Made to work on a frigate, the HMS Liverpool. Hard, hard work. Four years of constant labor.”

“I wanted to see if the story changed. That’s what people do when they don’t believe you. They ask you over and over what happened. They pick apart tiny details, looking for something you may have forgotten or blanked from your mind, to be discredited.”

“I deserve that. It was cowardly of me not to tell you. But how do you tell someone I’m your live husband when she wanted him dead?”

“I never said I wanted you dead. Never.”

“But you never wanted Adam back. I, however, clung to a memory of our perfect love.”

“It wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t perfect.”

“Well, Ruth, you’ve told me over and over again how I wasn’t, either.”

“Could you have sent a note, something while at port? Ships come into port.”

“I thought you dead. Graves accept no love letters. I made one missive to my father. That was all.”

“How did you live on this frigate?”

“I didn’t live. I survived, Ruth. I punished myself with thoughts of you, how I’d allowed you to suffer. Being a sailor, a good one, made the days pass. My nights, those were another matter.”

She folded her arms about her, like she was caught in a chilling wind. “You’ve stayed in love with me all these years? You never thought that we were too young, too stupid?”

“I’ve never fallen out of love with you. How could I? I was happy when we were together.”

“No doubts?”

“None.” His horrible voice was loud and strained, but it was his truth. “Ruth, I’ve only wanted revenge. I’ve thought of nothing else.”

“That’s a lot of years to be steeped in hate. Sounds like you were nearly successful with Mr. Johnson’s death.”

“I didn’t kill him, but he deserved death. I know he plotted with my uncle for my ambush. You remembered his voice at Blaren House.”

“I remember your cousin’s and your uncle’s voices. They were at the ambush. They deserve death.” She wiped at her eyes. “When do you achieve revenge? When does it all stop?”

“All Uncle’s notes have been called. If Soulden does not pay tomorrow, he will be collected by runners and then sent to debtors’ prison.”

“That leaves your cousin untouched. Will that be enough for you, Adam?”

She said his nickname, the one he’d given her. It didn’t sound as well with her voice laced in anger.

“Adoniram is the name my mother gave me. A bit of a mixed bag, an overseer to the king…who was stoned in a revolution.” He scooted a little closer. “I now oversee all of my father’s wealth, but I did survive my execution. If you are asking if I am the same fellow you knew, the one so full of rage… No. I’ve learned to be deliberate and methodical.”

“If you die before tomorrow, will they inherit the means to pay their debts? Will they win again?”

“I don’t intend to die, but my son, my heir, Christopher Wilky will inherit.”

“Then you’ve set the evil on my baby.”

He wrapped his hand around her closed fist. “I’m alive. All will be done in a day. I win, unless you make me a loser. Are you going to pretend that what we had, what we have, what we rediscovered, isn’t enough?”

He took the ring box and presented it to her.

The hinge whined when she opened it, but then she snapped the case closed before the diamond could sparkle in the candlelight.

“Do you trust me, Adori…Wycliff? You’ve asked me to trust you so often. I need to hear you trust me.”

He knelt and took her hand. “Yes, I trust you implicitly. I love you, Ruth. Marry me. Look past your anger at a name and see that I’ve changed.”

“Do you still twist up all the bedclothes and leave the mattress looking crazed?”

He wanted to laugh that she remembered, but Ruth wasn’t smiling.

“I’m no longer quick tempered. I’d like to think I’m thoughtful and deliberate. I’m a man who will keep you safe, who will love and cherish you. Be mine again, now and forever.”

“Can’t we just go one step at a time? Adam…Wycliff?”

“I am Adam, I am Wycliff. I know how precious life is, how things can change in an hour. Let’s not wait. Trust that I can make everything right this time.”

She held his face close, smoothed her fingers in his beard, then closed her eyes. “I miss your smooth face.” She sighed. “If we’d taken things more slowly. We would’ve had a chance.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s not rushing when we are married, unless…”

It hit him like a cannonball across the bow.

She didn’t love him or Adam.

She’d been through too much.

With this last secret, there was nothing left of her for him.

…

I felt frozen and empty.

I’d spent the last hour consoling a woman whose husband was truly dead.

Wycliff’s face grew darker, more distant.

“I see,” he said and stood. “Then tell me how this is to go.”

“Well, as you say, we are married.”

“Are we, Ruth? Where’s your half of the registry? Go get it.”

I left him for a moment, went to my room and returned with the trunk. I put it in his hands. “Here.”

“Your old trunk.” He took it and pulled the registry from the lining. “This is the only thing that proves our marriage exists. Maybe there is a misspelling or something to get you out of this conundrum.”

“Now you are being ridiculous. I’m not falling into your arms, so you think I am hysterical. That’s not fair.”

Wycliff moved closer to the hearth. “It is ridiculous to be in a marriage you don’t want.”

He turned from me, tugged on his jacket, and bent close to the flames.

“Are you cold? What are you doing?”

“Freeing you.”

He lit the edge of the paper. It caught fully, glowing and spitting flames before I reached him. I tried to get it, but it was too late.

Bits of the paper danced as embers on the log. Then it was ash.

It was destroyed. I started to cry. “The proof I needed to prove Chris had a father is gone. That was cruel and unkind. That was my paper. You had no right.”

“I just gave up my rights. You can go on with your life. Marry again. I won’t stop you. Write back to your ambivalent barrister.”

“That was all I had to prove Chris had a father. How could you?”

“Chris doesn’t need a claim to the past. He needs someone to love him and shape his future. His cousin Wycliff will do that. I’ve established my position and your widowhood to all that matter.”

“That was my proof.”

“I’m the proof. That piece of paper ties you to C. A. Wilkinson, Chatsworth Adoniram Wilkinson. There’s nothing to hold us together, just as you wanted.”

“I didn’t say that.”

He started for the door.

I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t know how to make him stay. I was desperate for him not to walk away.

“Wait. I just need time.”

“Four years apart isn’t enough?”

I ran to him and put a hand to his shoulder. “You aren’t this good. You can’t love me this much. It’s not possible.”

“Everything is possible if you believe. I believed in us.” He kissed my hand. “You’re free, Ruth. My half is gone. Only you and I know that a young couple committed to loving each other in sickness and in health. In death, I did not part.”

I wrapped my arms about his shoulders so he couldn’t leave. I was gentle because I knew his neck was so hurt. “You were always so dramatic.”

“I’ve gone to hell and back. It should be allowed. You’re free.”

“How am I free? You’ve had weeks to know that I was alive. And you’ve been deliberate in making me fall for Wycliff. This is your own fault.”

He turned his face, holding a gambler’s grin, like he’d bet everything and won his nick. “I’m listening.”

“You know who your enemies are. I need to prove mine.”

“Madame Talease is your villain. She bought you when you sought help. She made you one of her girls.”

“No, she didn’t. She’s dying. That’s what Mrs. Johnson came to say. She wants to make amends, clear her ledger entries of all the things unsaid. She sent me a note, telling me good-bye, but she didn’t answer my questions.”

“She wants to repent from selling flesh, for selling yours?”

I shook my head at him. Wycliff didn’t understand. I had to make him. “I need to see her, and you need to take me to her, tonight.”

“She’s an hour from London.”

“Yes.”

“No, Ruth. Not now. That road is isolated. We’ll be vulnerable. The same people who attacked us before could do so again if they know we leave London. I can’t cover that much ground with grooms.”

“Then no one will know we are going.”

“It’s not possible. I’m watched. No, Ruth.”

“You have faced your enemies. You’ve made peace with what was done to you. I need to do the same. Madame Talease knows what was done to me.”

“I don’t care what you did at Madame Talease’s. I don’t need to hate any more people.”

“But this is my story, Wycliff. I want you to hear all the pieces. Then you can tell me what to do. I want my enemies to be in terror like yours.”

“If I refuse?”

“You were already out that door. Since you destroyed the registry, you can’t stop me from going myself.”

He shook his head. “That long stretch of road by yourself is ridiculous. You’ll be anxious. You’ll not make it.”

“If I had my protector with me, I would be fine.”

“They’re watching here. You could be put in jeopardy again, Ruth. You can’t do that.”

“The wild child is going to do the wildest thing. I’m going to Madame Talease. I need her statement. I need you to hear it.”

He looked down at me, and I felt the anguish rippling through him.

“As much as I want to say no, I know you, Ruth. When your mind is set, you don’t stop. It’s best I go with you. That way if things go poorly, we might actually die together this time.”

He pulled away. “Let me check with Lawden, to see what protections we can put in place. Be ready to go in an hour.”

Wycliff left me.

I was terrified, but I was determined. I needed truth. I needed it above everything.