Page 23 of Devil at the Gates
But Thomas was the sorry one. His gaze turned to the sea, to the battering waves. There was no more light in his world, no more purpose. All had gone dark.
Harriet woke to the sound of a man shouting her name. She blinked, wiped her wet face, and gasped. She saw that she was but a dozen feet away from the cliffs. Icy wind tore at her body, and fresh snow burned her bare feet. How had she gotten out here? Had she followed a phantom to her own doom?
“Harriet!” Redmond’s shout startled her. He grabbed her, jerking her into the safety of his arms. He half carried her nearly twenty feet until they were a safe distance from the cliffs. Harriet couldn’t stop shaking from the fear and the cold.
“What in blazes were you doing? You could have died!” Redmond growled as he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her freezing form back to the house. Grindle and Timothy met them at the door.
“Have a bath prepared in my chambers at once. And a tray of food and wine.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Grindle and Timothy left the pair alone.
“I can walk,” Harriet whispered in mortification.
“I’m sure you can, but if it’s all the same, I’ll feel better keeping you in my arms.” Redmond carried her back to his room, and only then did he settle her down in a chair by the fire. She shivered as he covered her with a heavy blanket, then added more logs to the flames. She sensed the tension building inside him.
“What happened, Harriet?” he asked.
She covered her face with her hands. “I… I’m not sure if you would believe me.” Only when he gently pried her hands away did she meet his gaze. She wanted to curl up and hug her knees like a small child might, but she couldn’t escape the question in his searching face.
“Please, Harriet. Tell me. What drove you to want to take your own life?”
“I didn’t—” she protested, then drew in a calming breath. “I didn’t mean to. I was asleep in my bed, and then I awoke. I heard someone say my name.”
“Maisie must have—”
“No,” she said, cutting him off. “It wasn’t Maisie. The first time… It was her. The duchess. She stood behind this very chair and pointed at you while you slept last night. I thought it was merely a strange and fantastical dream, but tonight… He came.”
Redmond curled his hands around hers as he continued to kneel in front of her. He didn’t say anything, but she could see in his eyes that he knew who she meant.
“I woke tonight to find your brother standing in the corner of my room. He terrified me. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe, and then I was in his room with the duchess. They were talking about you.” She paused, trying to ascertain whether she ought to continue or if it would pain him too much to hear.
“Go on.” His face had gone from concerned to still and somber, like a statue.
“They were speaking about how you had found them together. They spoke of a divorce by annulment. Thomas said he’d hurt you and hoped somehow to make amends. He was so upset, Red. I wish you could have seen his face.” She couldn’t forget Thomas’s brokenhearted look.
“I found them in his room that night,” Redmond whispered, almost to himself. “I offered Millicent a divorce…and told them I never wished to see them again.”
Harriet pulled one of her hands free to touch his face and stroke his hair. The firelight made it look dark and warm as brandy, and the strands were soft and wet beneath her fingertips.
“Thomas went after you to talk and found you on the cliffs.”
Redmond nodded and closed his eyes. “I wished to end my life.”
“But he stopped you, and Millicent was there. I saw her fall.”
His eyes flew open. “How could you have seen all this?”
“I don’t know. But he was there, Red, your brother. I think…”
He shook his head. “Don’t say it.”
“They’re both still here.” Harriet leaned forward and kissed his forehead, and he dropped his head into her lap, heaving out a deep, shaking breath.
“They cannot be here,” he muttered. “Have I not suffered enough without them haunting me?”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Harriet said, “but I must believe what I saw. How else would I know what happened here?”
“Someone could have told you. Mrs. Breland, perhaps.”
