Chapter Thirteen

The Empty Heart

Back at his townhouse, Wolferton went into his study. Life had changed so much with the arrival of Jaclyn. While she added joy, she also added a measure of concern. It was late, and he was about to leave to his suite when there was a light tap on the door. “Enter,” he said.

“Radolf, may I speak to you?” Camille swept into the room.

“I don’t see how I could stop you. You seem upset, and I know you’ll tell me details.”

“Something has happened. I’m not sure what caused it, but after Halifax left, Jaclyn took to her room in tears. She had Loup with her, and I heard her singing to him. I chaperoned Jaclyn and Halifax most of the time. We did play cards for an hour, but her silence indicated unhappiness. She lost the game to me.”

“I see. I don’t trust the man, but I can’t…I won’t…dictate she not see him. It would only make her more anxious to defy me and do as she pleases.” He rose and went to the liquor cabinet. “Cordial?” He lifted a small liqueur glass to her.

“Yes, since Jaclyn’s arrival I seem to appreciate spirits as never before.” She accepted the fancy glass but placed it on the desk. She fingered a button on her dress and looked her brother in the eye. “I believe she’s in love with you. It seems quite natural since you are the one who has taken the place of her father. She is young and impressionable, and you stole her heart when you gave her Loup.”

“If it is so, it will pass. It takes two to have an affair of the heart. May I remind you I left mine behind decades ago?” No, it wasn’t true, but it was the lie he continued to perpetuate in his soul to find some semblance of solace and forgiveness, though he wanted to hope otherwise.

“Why do you castigate yourself? You’ve been to hell and back with Father and the war. You traveled months to return to the England you hated because of him, and because you loved me. Please, brother. Please tell me what haunts you.”

“There’s not enough time in the world to unburden my heart and soul.” He tapped his fingers on his desk a few times.

She grasped the liqueur glass and took a hearty sip. “When Mother died, I was twenty-two and married. My husband would not allow me to attend the evening funeral proceedings. I have always wanted to ask you, but I feared it would be too dreadful for you to relive that sad episode.”

“You know you wrap me around your littlest finger and you say you fear me? Indeed, I must be an ogre without a heart if you above all others tread lightly around me.”

“No, that’s not so. I see and feel… Yes, I feel your pain, and I can do nothing to help you. My husband used to say I was the most useless woman in the world, not even good for bed sport.” Tears cascaded down her high cheeks.

“He was an animal, and you are rid of him. You will find happiness for I will see to it.”

“You can’t control the world, Radolf. If our mother were here, she’d understand.”

Concerned with her distress, he handed her his handkerchief. “I can see this will be a long night. What little I know about Mother’s death may not help you.”

He exhaled so deeply it moved a paper on his desk. “Secrecy surrounded her death, and I could not ask about the details. Answers were not given to me. The schoolmaster informed me a coach awaited to bring me home for the funeral, and my questions went unanswered unless Father wanted to impart information to the authorities. His silence told a different story.”

Wolferton arose from his seat and went to a far wall, his mind in memory. “He informed me she’d fallen down the large mahogany staircase. A heeled slipper remained encased in a worn fringe of the second-floor carpet. She died immediately of a broken neck.”

Back to the liquor cabinet, he said, “I need another drink.” This time he poured four fingers into the glass. “It was strange, Camille, the other slipper was never found—not on the floor, not on the steps, and not on her foot.”

He went to a wall where his mother’s portrait hung. While he thought her beautiful and aristocratic, he saw no happiness on her face. “Eyes tell all, she used to say. Mother had a soft, gentle temperament, but I always experienced her enormous love. She had to hide a lot from Father since he didn’t want me molly-coddled by sentimentalities from a simpleton of a female. Those were the words he told her.”

He palmed the sharp letter opener on his desk and ran it across his hand. “The few times I did reside in the manor, she showered us with affection and laughter, but behind her gaze was tempered steel. I saw the pain. Don’t you remember how she brushed your hair until it glowed? How she pinched your cheeks when she complimented your beauty? To her, you were her special angel. She gave us all the love she could, in spite of him.” He released the fist clenched at his side. “Devil take the bastard and keep him for eternity.”

“But what about the investigation? I heard about it, but our father would not speak to me. He said it was none of my female business.”

“Is that where I got the term for women? From the bastard? I’ll have to curb the habit.” He furrowed his brow because any comparison between him and his father still rankled with venom.

“Humph, the local investigators confirmed her death as an accident. I thought it shoddy no one questioned the heeled slipper since mother never wore them because they made her unsteady. She much preferred a flat heel shoe or boot. Surely, our father knew this.”

“Why have we not discussed this before, Radolf?”

“I couldn’t cause you more pain. I held enough for both of us.” He scanned the room and gritted his teeth. “I believed he killed her though as a young lad of seventeen, I could prove nothing.”

Camille sobbed. “What’s done is done.”

Wolferton had the portrait of his father covered with a cloth. The man was not fit to honor the gallery wall. In fact, there was a time temptation urged him to slash it to ribbons. Did anything exist in this world that can remove the demon? Or am I meant to kill myself and thus end the dynasty? Would he ever have peace? Camille needed him. She gave him one good reason to live in his unwanted world. So he had the portrait hung upside down, covered in black bombazine, and never looked at it again.

“What did we ever do to deserve such a man, but most of all why did she marry him? She was wealthy, independent of him through an unentailed inheritance.” Camille fidgeted in the chair, and the wooden dowel squeaked. “Time to get this fixed.”

She arose and paced the rug, clasped her hands together, agitated. “Radolf, his evil knew no bounds. My poor mama never had a full measure of happiness, except for you and me.”

He nodded. “This evening has been a moment of many truths for me. I refused to come home during university vacations and chose to visit with friends and their families. Later those same friends in the Defence Ministry employed me to do limited covert work and time passed by. When Father demanded my return, I used Halbert to sell a portion of my gun collection so I would have funds to live on. That’s how we met, and my soldier compatriot has been my batman ever since. Mother’s small inheritance when I came of age was used to purchase a commission in the army at age twenty-one, where I remained until the end of the war—twenty-six at that time. The next ten years in Turkey were a different military education. The culture fascinated me even though a continent apart.”

He went to his sister. “A good part of my audacity on and off the field was that death did not frighten me. The more I dared the Grim Reaper to take me, the more I returned victorious with my life intact.”

He arose. In strident steps to the fireplace mantel, he took the poker and settled a log in place. The flames, anxious to consume the dry wood, leaped higher.

He turned to her. “One night after a momentous battle with many fallen soldiers, I fisted my hands to the air. I remember my words exactly. You foul deity! Why didn’t you take me instead of any one of these men? They were brave. My only wish was to die in their place! And, dear sister, because of their fearless gallantry, I was awarded more medals for valor on the field. It wasn’t heroism that led me to the front line of danger. It was my desire to die so the world would be rid of me forever.”

Camille ran to her brother and crushed him in her arms. “How would I have survived without you? But that’s selfish of me. You deserve happiness, my brother.”