Page 41 of Marry in Secret
“We didn’t meet him. We stayed in his palace, though, where his deputy, the caliph, lived. He allowed me to send a letter home, explaining what had happened and asking for a ransom to be sent.”
“So what happened?”
“After a month, a letter came from my uncle.”
“And?”
“It said the man calling himself Thomas Beresford was no kin of his; he was a scoundrel, not to be trusted; and there would be no ransom forthcoming.”
She gasped.
“It never occurred to me that my uncle would refuse.” It had shocked him so badly he was certain it must be a mistake. “But I saw the letter myself. My uncle had signed it himself—I recognized his hand.”
“The caliph wasn’t happy—all that time feeding me for no result—but after some persuasion he allowed me to send another letter. This time I wrote to my cousin. I was certain he’d pay, but...” He clenched his fists, bafflement and fury surging up as it always did. “The same kind of letter came back. Disowning me and refusing to pay.”
“Are your relatives poor, then?”
He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but it spilled over anyway. “Far from it. They could have paid the ransom a dozen times over and not even noticed.”
“Then why would they refuse?”
He looked away, unwilling to show her the hurt he still felt. The hurt that he was determined to stifle with rage. “That’s the question that’s been eating at me ever since.”
“Had you fallen out with them? Quarreled?”
“On the contrary. I would even have said—before this—that we were quite a close family. Fond of one another.” He’d spent his boyhood looking after Gerald, especially at school, and his uncle, well, his uncle had been as much a father to Thomas as his own father.
He gestured, a mix of bewilderment, frustration and anger. “I’ll get to the bottom of it eventually.” He’d beard the old man in his den and demand an explanation.
“I wish you’d written to me. I would have paid.”
“By that time the caliph had no patience for any more letters. And so we were sold.” It was the last he’d seen of young Pendell, thin as a rake, shaking like a leaf, trying hard to look brave, stepping up to the auction block in chains. His grand adventure over.
“As slaves,” she breathed, horrified. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so sorry.”
There was a short silence. She rose and walked back over to the window. “Thomas, the ‘damage’ you spoke of, did you mean because of your experiences as a slave?”
He hesitated before attempting to explain. He hated having to talk about this, would rather they both went on pretending it had never happened. But he supposed she needed to know. And then, with any luck, she’d leave the question alone and he’d never have to speak of it again.
“Yes. Being athingthat someone owns, that they can do what they like with, it... changes you. You can never be the same person again.” How could he explain to this lovely, glowing, sheltered girl the depths of degradation to which he’d sunk? It just wasn’t possible. And he didn’t want to try, didn’t want to drag her down to that awareness. Because if she knew, if she understood what he’d been, what he’d done, she’d never look at him the same way again.
Chapter Six
And listen why; for I will tell you now,
What never yet was heard in tale or song.
—JOHN MILTON
Rose wanted to hug him, kiss away the pain, pretend it was all over, that it didn’t matter. But they weren’t children to kiss it better and make it all magically go away. Terrible things happened. So did wonderful things. And for both there were consequences we had to live with.
“The thing is,” she began slowly, “everything that happens to us in life changes us, for better or worse. It isn’t only the bad things. I’ve changed, too, in ways you might not like.”
He shook his head as if that weren’t possible. But he’d made his confession and now she would make hers. And then, perhaps, they could both move forward.
“You said yesterday that when we married I’d made an impulsive promise based on a false premise. What did you mean by that—a false premise?”
It took a moment before he responded, and when he did, it sounded as though he didn’t understand the purpose of her question. “That you might become pregnant. We thought marriage would protect you in that eventuality, but since it didn’t happen...”
