Journey's End (Marlbrook) (36 page)

Whoever had instigated this plot had deliberately picked the social arena to destroy them, the one area where neither riches nor success could save them.

Laura understood would she must do.  The future of her family lay in Thomas’ hands.  The fight for her children and their rights would not exclude the man she loved.

CHAPTER
FORTY-
TWO
– Revenge

The lingering odour of leather, when first broken in, still dominated the interior of the new carriage.  Laura appreciated how vastly different the circumstances of this trip were, when compared to those of the original.  Recollection plummeted her thoughts into despair.  Nothing dark and mysterious would waylay her this time and it dawned on her that all that remained the same was that she travelled, once more, uninvited to Thomas’ door.

As the distance to the Manor narrowed, Laura examined her feelings and revealed a strange calm.  She could not afford to be swayed from her business and she marvelled how her body had been controlled by her mind.

Life had chosen to deny her access to Thomas’ home since that fateful day more than sixteen years ago.  The lonely, derelict structure embedded in her memory would no longer exist.  The Manor had been transformed under his authority.

Laura contemplated the many roads that one could choose to travel through life.  Ashley Manor was an avenue that had been presented to her.  Had things been different, she would have been Mistress of that house.  Her children would have been the ones tasked with returning laughter to the home, breathing vitality back into the lonely halls.  On reflection
,
she had become part of the Manor’s tragic drama, one that had reached out to involve another generation.  And now, it had fallen upon her to see that it touched no more.

Gently, Laura eased the carriage window open.  She was desperate for some fresh air to help clear her mind.  The preparation was necessary if she wanted to succeed.  To ponder one
’
s losses or
to
linger over what might have been was redundant.  Laura vanquished sentiment.  Feelings were an unaffordable luxury
,
for there were more pressing concerns that demanded
her
adjust
ment
.

Thomas knew that Laura would come.  Their story decreed that this next phase be brought about.  His wife, somewhere above stairs, would again be obliged to be generous and indulge his mistress while she roamed the lower quarters.  Personal concerns at this juncture were irrelevant.  This was something intimate between two people that life had seen fit to bring together, only to then tear them apart.  Their alliance was one that transcended the ordinary.  Maureen would once more be expected to accept second place.

The large ornate door loomed before Laura and time spiralled backwards.  She drew deep on her personal strength to stop from being overcome.  The entranceway was as familiar to her as though a common everyday sight, but in reality the changes were many.

Inside the manor, the staircase linked Laura to the past, and, as her sight gazed upon its splendour, her eyes retraced where she had once walked.  She had paced the steps from the kitchen
as
an innocent, with little instruction from the book of life.

Thomas stood alone on the opposite side of the room, view
ing
the past as Laura did.  It was a sad moment for both.

Neither Thomas nor Laura bothered to complicate affairs with customary pleasantries.  Laura followed Thomas’ lead
,
as he entered the private territory of his study, his masculine stronghold.

The den, Laura noted, was relatively small in comparison to other studies that she had observed, but well cared for and decorated to indulge one man.

Thomas’ reluctance to speak stifled Laura.  Her words demanded a release, and she held no patience with his dithering
.
  “Sir. You did not have the courage to advise me of your plans?”

Thomas did not deny the facts.

Laura carried on in a voice that trembled with emotion.  “Thomas, you have my sincere condolences for your trials. The subject is delicate in nature, and, my dearest friend, there are no words available to me that would suffice.”

Laura’s nerves were raw.  Apprehension built, knowing as she did what would happen next and the damage that she would inflict.  Laura could not guarantee that Thomas’ anger would not be raised and spill onto her.

Thomas looked out upon the courtyard.  The inclination to confront Laura did not exist.  Laura was his support and his beloved, and he would use any tactic at his disposal to delay the inevitable.

Laura forced an outcome.  “Thomas, please
,
for all that is holy and good
,
will you not speak with me? The subject is complex and you know that we must settle the issue in private. The matter must remain between you and I.”

Thomas let his eyes come to rest where Laura had chosen to position herself, and she could see in his wisdom that he accepted her reason for being here.  She should never have doubted him.  This the man she cherished understood, and she loved him all the more for his concern.  It was indeed a harsh God that demanded so much from two people.

Laura sighed, knowing the time had come to begin the words that would bring about the closure of their alliance.  She delivered her speech with a heavy heart.

“Thomas, I am troubled by your hurt and sympathise with my whole being, but you
,
in turn
,
have lashed out and threatened my family.  My children are dear to me and it is their welfare
about which
I have come to see you.”

Thomas listened as Laura spoke
;
however
,
her words did not ring with their usual defiance.  Instead, they conveyed to him the tragedy associated with the circumstances that had led them here.

Decisions come with a price.  Thomas had sparred with his anguish, but his injuries were grievous and demanded to be aired. 
As
painful
as
the task was, he knew what must be done.

He no longer required the assistance of the constabulary.  His desire to ruin a family that had bred harm and inflicted damage necessitated the extraction of a specific type of retribution.  He would secure revenge
,
not for the father’s sin, but as penance for the son’s.

Thomas conceded that nothing would be achieved
by
the destruction of Marlbrook.  The process would be indiscriminate and could destroy Laura in its wake.  Complications also existed in the form of the boy child whom he could claim as his own.  No, he would not proceed in the public eye; he would not hurt Laura or his son.  The damage would be of a subtler nature.

Thomas crossed the floor to his writing desk and released the document from its home.  He handed the condemning parchment to Laura.  Poetic, he thought, that she should choose a chair by the fireside.  His thoughts were profound and nearly his undoing.

Thomas acknowledged that his behaviour was not that of a gentleman, but it remained the only way that he could settle the score.  Laura would know the repellent facts and remember them every day that she was in her husband’s house and every night
that
she shared his bed.  The son and father would be as one.

Thomas declined to burden himself with the knowledge of the wounds he might inflict.  It was too late in their lives for trivia.  He would not rejoice in Laura’s pain nor was he willing to bear the brunt of any feelings that might arise.

As Laura began to read
,
Thomas left her company, his departure completed without a gesture of farewell.

His horse had been prepared and Thomas mounted the
steed
without looking back.  He would ride as far as the horse would take him, away from his wretched ghosts and Laura.

The arched window had sanctioned an unencumbered outlook of his retreat.  Laura’s farewell was silent, as she watched Thomas depart from her life.

The words she had read were condemning, certain to raise doubts and devastate memories, but she knew Thomas better than he gave her credit for.  He had withdrawn under pretence.  He offered her an escape route if she so chose, but she would not abuse his trust.  She finished the disclosure
,
fully aware of the personal cost.

Behind Laura
,
the door opened and then silently closed.  Laura remained seated, her focus concentrated on the road that lay ahead.  The unveiling of the past had proved a heavy burden.  She would have to learn to master her regrets.

The slight click of the latch and the telltale rustle of skirts brought Lady Maureen’s presence to her notice.

Their meeting had been a long time coming.  Lady Maureen did not own the obvious beauty of one like Sarah, but her features combined with poise to form a handsome woman.  She portrayed classical elegance and style.

Adept at deception, Lady Maureen practised the art on a daily basis with family and friends.  Her adversary, she supposed
,
in all probability was the only person aside from her husband that held a glimmer of what the real truth might be.  Long ago
,
she had queried the night as to where she would derive her peace.  She had yet to find an answer.

Jealousy and insecurity had consumed Maureen for most of her adult life, the woman standing before her the instigator of her misery.  Against all odds, Laura had managed to sustain her hold on Thomas.

Maureen was a patient woman, but her composure had come at the expense of her self-esteem and the erosion neared completion.  At thirty and six years of age, Maureen was growing old.  Her children had been conceived from the base desire of sex, a wife accepting of her husband’s needs - an inhuman existence to be condemned to in anyone’s reality.

Laura cringed at the sight of Thomas’ wife.  Anguish was written in the ageing features, along with the suffering she believed herself to have originated.  This was the woman who shared Thomas’ bed as his wife and
who
wore the legitimacy to bear his children - a right that should have been hers.  The last thought acted like a knife
,
cutting Laura in two, her pain suppressing any argument that she might have raised.  If Lady Maureen’s suffering was given credibility, it would mean losing the tiny fragments of love that kept Laura emotionally sane.  No. Harsh though it may sound, she had never considered the woman.

Maureen looked upon her reflection in the mirror located at Laura’s side.  Her hair had once been black in colour the darkness aided by a glossy sheen, but at some time the shine had been lost, the ebony replaced by a foreign, greying mass.  The eyes, she thought, contained no spark.  Eyes were storytellers.  They displayed a person’s contentment with life.  In her case
,
they reflected the desperation of one denied a purpose for living.  Her head tilted slightly to one side, the movement bringing Laura back into view.

“Since the first day of my marriage, I have stored the words that I have longed to say to you, madam, rehearsing the phrases over and over during the long hours spent waiting for a husband that rarely returned. But now, having met you, my curiosity appears ordinary, and perhaps shall be sated after laying eyes upon the woman who has kept my husband from me all these years.”

Maureen moved on before Laura could intervene.  She had no intention of partaking in a two-way conversation.

Lady Maureen’s eyes contained a hint of irrationality that unnerved Laura.  There was nothing Laura could do but wait.

“You are indeed worthy, at least in appearance, of my husband’s attention
,
for I can see how you would hold his interest, but as to personality and what you offer him I cannot be your judge. To have captivated Thomas, I can merely presume that you are more spirited in temperament than I.”

Laura noticed the dainty white lace handkerchief that Lady Maureen clutched in both hands.  The plight of the wretched material held her entranced as it writhed in the woman’s grasp.

“They say, madam, do they not,” Maureen continued, “
t
hat disclosure is good for the soul.”  Maureen began moving about the room, her agitation refusing to allow her to stand still. 

“Time is an enemy to us all, and I must bear tha
t in mind.
As difficult as I find this situation, I mean to use this opportunity to the fullest.”  Her pacing stopped.  Maureen’s inner conflict had been won or lost, but either way
,
she seemed reconciled.

“To offer a confession in the church brings with it the possibility of forgiveness. I do not crave your pardon, but a degree of peace is vital to a healthy body and soul.”

Maureen had been favoured with a beautiful speaking voice, the timbre dulcet in tone.  Laura recognised that the woman was persecuted, but she could not help her.  She had no insight
into the true purpose underlying
this conversation.