twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-three

 

James woke to find Phoebe perched on the side of the bed, combing her fingers through the tangled expanse of her hair. Sunlight streamed through the window, lending a golden sheen to her flawless skin and shimmering hair.

Hungry to hold her again, he leaned forward and snared her about the waist, drawing her back into the bed.

Phoebe giggled as he settled her against the mattress and rolled above her. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Her haunting eyes locked with his and she smiled up at him gently. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sorry. Any morning I wake to the sight of you is a gift.”

A light flush rose in her cheeks and her eyes twinkled with the compliment. “I was thinking about what you said last night,” she said after a moment.

“Oh? What was that?” For the life of him he couldn’t quite remember what they’d discussed.

“I think I would like to extend an olive branch to my brother and let him know I’m here. Maybe he’s had time to cool off and is just waiting for me to reach out.”

James smiled. Her optimism was one of the things he loved about her. She always believed the best of people… himself included. “By all means. There is ink and paper in the desk by the wall. Write the letter and I’ll have it sent over first thing this morning.”

Phoebe beamed and rolled quickly from the bed. She rushed to the desk and began opening the top drawers.

James folded his arms behind his head, enjoying the current view of her backside. He hoped things went well with her brother. All he wanted—

Across the room Phoebe froze, head bent as she stared into an open drawer. Ever so slowly she dipped her hand within.

Oh, no… Oh, bloody hell… She must have found it. He’d all but forgotten about stashing the dreaded relic there after his uncle’s funeral. Pure ice flushed through his veins and he shot upright in bed. “Phoebe…”

She spun to face him, expression a mask of horror. Betrayal and sadness bled from her eyes. Her lips parted but no words came out as she lifted the Heart of the Nile up for him to see. “You lied to me, James. Y-you killed my brother.”

“No, Phoebe, I didn’t. I swear it. I swear it on my father’s grave.”

“Then why do you have this?” The long chain slipped through her fingers until the jeweled pendent swung hypnotically before her. “It went missing the night Patrick died. We always assumed that whoever murdered him had also stolen the pendant.” Her gaze drifted from James to the necklace and then back again. “It was you,” she said with quiet conviction. “I am such a naïve fool.”

“I did not kill Patrick,” he defended firmly. “Tobias did.”

“Your brother?” Phoebe’s wary gaze drilled into him.

He drew a steadying breath. He hadn’t spoken the truth aloud in fifteen years. “Yes.”

“Do you know what happened to my brother?”

“I do,” he replied gravely as those long stuffed away memories rose to the surface of his mind. He gulped, if he concentrated hard enough he could still smell the dew damp grass and woods from that night… he could still hear his brother’s laughter ringing in his ears… as well as Patrick’s angry shouts…

“Tell me,” Phoebe’s strangled words interrupted his miserable thoughts.

Where to begin… James sighed, and shifted to the edge of the bed keeping the sheet around his waist. He raked both hands through his hair and faced Phoebe. “Sit,” he invited.

“Talk.” She didn’t budge from her place standing beside the desk.

He knew better than to argue, and slowly began the awful tale. “As I’ve told you my uncle and I never got along, but, more than that, he was a very difficult man to please. One night, about fifteen years ago, Tobias and I got it into our heads that we’d sneak into the Corsair Castle, steal the Heart of the Nile, and do him proud by bringing it back to him. It would have been one hell of a prank if the prized attraction went missing before the grand Corsair ball.” James remembered that doomed scheme all too well. Just once he’d wanted to find himself in his uncle’s good graces. He’d thought it might stop all the fighting and make his mother happy as well. “Being young, stupid, and impulsive we snuck out during the night, and climbed into the castle through an unlocked window. We knew from town gossip where the jewel was displayed in the house, and found it without too much trouble.” His eyes drifted to the cursed artifact clutched in Phoebe’s hand. He recalled being rather disappointed by the piece. It was much smaller than he’d expected given all the excitement about it. “We were leaving,” he continued, “climbing out of another window, when Patrick found us. We all went to school together so he recognized us and guessed what we were about immediately. Tobias jumped through the window.” James shifted his gaze from the necklace to Phoebe. “I dropped the necklace right on the floor. We were caught so there was no point in taking it. Then I followed Tobias through the window and we ran into the woods. After a few minutes Patrick caught up with us. Tobias and I were arguing and your brother must have overheard.”

Phoebe paled, but otherwise remained solemn and still as he recounted the story.

“Patrick was furious. Called us thieving Witherspoons, among other things, and he had a pistol.” James scrubbed his fingers through his hair, wishing with all his soul—as he had so many times—that he could turn the clocks back to that very moment in time. “He pointed it at me”

The miserable events cascaded through his mind in a vivid recounting.

“You miserable thieving bastards,” Patrick growled. Absolute hatred glittered in his eyes.

James gulped, staring at the pistol trained on his chest. “Patr—”

A brilliant flash and the wicked crack of gunfire cut him short.

James flinched, fire slicing across his left upper arm.

“He shot you?” Phoebe’s shocked question jerked James back to reality.

He’d been so lost in the memory he hadn’t even realized he’d still been speaking aloud. “Yes,” he rasped. Inadvertently he lifted a hand to the faded scar where the bullet had grazed his arm all those years ago. “And then Tobias shot him.” James lifted a heavy gaze to Phoebe. “I didn’t even know my brother had brought a gun. Stealing the jewel was supposed to be a stupid prank, but suddenly I had blood pouring down my arm and Patrick was dead.”

James didn’t even need to close his eyes to conjure the image of Patrick lying on his back in the foliage, his lifeless eyes illuminated by the moonlight, the spent pistol still clutched his right hand, and the Heart of the Nile laced through the fingers of his left.

“Your brother shot him because he shot you,” Phoebe said quietly.

James nodded. “Tobias was hysterical. I-I remember shaking him so hard I thought his neck might break just to get him to shut up. I told him to go home, replace his father’s dueling pistol, and never speak of it again.”

“So you brought Patrick home and let everyone believe the worst of you to protect your brother.”

“Yes.”

Sadly Phoebe gazed down at the famed artifact, rolling the heavy gold chain between her fingers. “Y-you said you dropped this before you left the house. Why do you have it now?”

James shrugged. “Patrick must have picked it up before he followed us. He had it with him in the woods. I can’t tell you how many times I meant to throw it in the ocean or bury the cursed thing, but for whatever reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead I’ve kept it hidden all these years so no one could fight over it again.”

Phoebe remained silent for a long while. Finally she raised wary, accusing eyes to him. “You’ve known the truth all this time, and never told me? My mother cried herself to sleep for years wondering what happened to her son. She died not knowing.” Phoebe shook her head, eyes raw with a combination of anguish and disbelief. “Don’t you think we deserved to know?”

“I was seventeen years old, Phoebe. I didn’t know what to do. It was all a horrible mistake. Patrick was dead, and I didn’t want to see a second young life ruined as well.”

“So you dumped my brother in front of our house and hid the jewel so no one would ever know the truth,” she accused.

“Yes,” he stated matter-of-factly. “There was already so much hate over that blasted jewel. I knew the truth would only lead to all out war between our families, and who would have believed us? With Patrick dead and only Tobias and I to recount the events my brother would have been crucified. I couldn’t let that happen, Phoebe. He was my little brother.”

Wordlessly Phoebe dropped the Heart of the Nile and strode to the closet. She yanked out a simple day dress and pulled it on right over her nightdress.

James flew from the bed, reaching out to his wife as one would a frightened animal. “Don’t go, Phoebe. Be reasonable.”

“Be reasonable?” She stuffed her bare feet into a pair of slippers. “You’ve been lying to me for months.”

“Because I knew this would happen.” Desperation filled him. If she walked out right now he’d loose her forever. The truth of it resonated to the depths of his soul. He tried to take her in his arms, but she jerked away.

“Don’t touch me.” The wild look in her eyes warned him to keep his distance even though every fiber of his being screamed to take her in his arms and force her to see reason. He wasn’t the sort of man to force any woman, however, much less his wife.

She twirled her hair into a half-hazard knot and stabbed a single pin through it. “I can’t stay here, James. I-I feel like I’m suffocating.” She stuffed her feet into slippers, scooped a knitted wrapper off a chair, and fled the room.

James stared miserably into the hall. Was there any hope that Phoebe might forgive him or had he lost her for good this time?

Judith appeared in the hall. “Trouble in paradise?” she mocked, gaze lingering on his naked frame wrapped only in the sheet.

James stepped forward and slammed the door in her face.

* * * *

Heart broken and battling tears, Phoebe dashed down the stairs desperate to escape the house and her lying husband. She didn’t care who saw or what questions might arise. At the moment she was simply desperate to escape the memories and the lies she’d uncovered that morning. She flew through the front door and descended the steps at a run. She could only think of one place that might grant her a level of solace…

The beach.

Phoebe trekked hastily through the town, keeping to the outskirts to avoid notice. It was early enough that few people were out and about just yet. At this point she was beyond caring if people in her hometown recognized her, she just didn’t want to talk to anyone. She crested a hill and the ocean lined with white powdery sand stretched into oblivion before her. She sighed and slowed, veering off the road toward the shoreline.

Dragging a deep breath into her lungs, Phoebe stumbled down the sandy embankment as tears finally overwhelmed her. She hugged the knitted wrapper around her and walked along the beach, reliving all that she’d learned that morning in her mind. Soon her slippers were filled with sand and she kicked them off.

Absently Phoebe bent and lifted a smooth white shell from the sand. Cool ocean air gently caressed her cheeks, and dried the tears on her cheeks. Surrounded by the serenity of the seaside she finally calmed enough to consider all that James had divulged.

Patrick shot James… Tobias shot Patrick… James covered it all up to protect his brother…

The way James described that night it was all a tragic comedy of errors. One that Patrick had played his part in.

Tossing the shell into the water, she conjured an image of her oldest brother. She could well picture him charging from the house in a righteous fury. No one liked to think ill of the dead, but if truth be told he’d had a vile temper. Edward’s disposition was mild compared to Patrick’s.

James and his brother never should have attempted that prank, but they’d set out for mischief not malice, and Phoebe believed that.

She startled with the realization that she did believe James. Wholly and completely. Now that the initial shock of finding The Heart of the Nile had ebbed she could see that more than anything she felt betrayed because he hadn’t seen fit to tell her the truth. With a sigh she stopped and shifted her gaze back down the beach. Perhaps she should go back and discuss this with him.

“Lady Phoebe?”

Startled she whirled, staring up the embankment at the lanky figure of a man. “Reverend Alistair! Y-you surprised me.”

“I thought I saw you pass by the parish house,” he said, gazing at her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable. “You’ve been away for some time.”

Phoebe resisted the urge to squirm. “Yes, I—”

“You’re with child,” Alistair observed in a strangely flat tone.

She flushed. “Yes. Colonel Witherspoon and I married, have you not heard the news?” she asked casually.

The reverend untied his cravat and leapt down the sandy embankment. His eyes glimmered with an intensity that made her very uncomfortable. “Such a pity,” he murmured. “I tried so hard to counsel you and keep you from the path of sin.”

Phoebe gulped, backing away. The path of sin?

Alistair continued steadily toward her. “And yet here is the proof that you’ve succumbed to the temptations of the flesh.” He pulled the cravat from his neck.

A chill swept Phoebe’s spine. Desperately she glanced about, she didn’t know what he was about, but she desperately sensed the need to escape. “Wh-what do you mean? I am a married woman.”

“The colonel was away fighting in the war for some time. Given your advanced state you must have lain with him before any vows were spoken.” He grabbed either end of the cravat in each hand and stretched it out. “Now I must smite you and your sin from this earth.”

“What?” Panic seized Phoebe as the realization that he intended to kill her hit with full force. “No! Are you mad?”

“I am commissioned by the lord our god to rid the earth of sinners and adulterers.”

He’s insane! “Murder is a sin.” She backed away from him as quickly as possible, trying to stall until she figured out some means of escape. “Thou shalt not kill. Surely you don’t mean to break one of the lord’s commandments.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes glowing with madness and malice. “God came to me in a vision and tasked me with the burden of purifying this earth. You have fallen, Lady Phoebe, and now you must pay for your sins.”

Phoebe whirled and sprinted hell bent down the beach. “Help me,” she screamed.

Alistair grabbed for her from behind and looped the cravat around her throat. Phoebe ducked and narrowly managed to escape his grasp. Her bare feet churned in the sand making it impossible to gain good traction. She slipped in the sand and fell forward. Alistair was on her in an instant. On pure instinct Phoebe rolled to her back, grabbed two fistfuls of sand and sent them sailing into the crazy reverend’s face.

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