Echoes in Stone (30 page)

“Late one night,” he said, “Lily showed up at my door. She was full of pity. Sympathy. She offered to have a glass of wine with me and just listen, as my friend.” He shook his head, even now not sure what happened next.

“Much of the rest of that night is hazy to me. I remember thinking the stress of Janie’s death, and the sleepless nights, were catching up with me. The only clear memory is of the next morning. I woke up with my mouth dry as the Sahara and my head thumping. The pounding on the bedroom door was worse. Marguerite burst through, screaming at me. I heard sobbing and turned to find Lily in bed next to me. She was unclothed.”

Unable to sit still another instant, Dash rose, pacing in front of the fire, raking his hand through his hair.

“Of course I did the only thing possible. I announced our engagement and obtained a special license. We were married two weeks later. That’s when the real hell began.”

Jessa sat as still as if she had been turned to stone. Her small hand covered her mouth, though whether to keep from screaming in terror or to hide her revulsion, he couldn’t tell.

“On our wedding night,” Dash said, “Lily refused to allow me near her. She cried. Screamed. Locked herself in the dressing room. It made no sense. She’d claimed we’d already had relations once. Given the stories about her, I couldn’t believe I’d been the first. But she insisted I was, that it had been so traumatic, so terrifying—”

Jessa jumped to her feet, standing in Dash’s path, halting his pacing. She laid her hand on his chest.

“Dash, you know she was lying. I—I mean we—I mean you’ve done that with me. It wasn’t terrifying. It was wonderful. It was— I refuse to believe you were any less gentle, less passionate—”

“I know that now, Jessa, but I didn’t then. Marguerite failed to tell me a few important details. I didn’t know about Lily’s childhood. I didn’t know about Wilkerson’s violation of her, or the abuse she endured from God only knows how many others. I only knew she was terrified of me. In my ignorance, my hurt, I was lost. I tried cajoling her. I tried being gentle with her. I tried everything.” He laughed, not bothering to hide his bitterness. “She tried nothing but my patience.”

Jessa tugged on the sleeve of his robe. “Sit, Dash. Calm yourself. Tell me about Holly.”

Holly. A treacherous question. How treacherous was the woman who asked it? He balked for a second, then did as she asked. She curled back onto the settee next to him.

“I was away on business a great deal in those early days. I sailed my own ships. It was easier than being here, with a woman who hated me. Who feared my touch. We’d been married for little more than seven months. I’d been away for more than half that time. Lily never told me she was carrying a child. I wasn’t here enough to notice the changes in her body. Hell, even when I was here, she never allowed me near her. She slept in her room—this room. I slept in mine. Alone.”

Now came the dangerous part of the tale.

“I came home late one night, after having been gone for almost three months, to find the house in an uproar. Lily was—” The shock, the horror of that night washed over him.

Jessa took his hand in hers. The fragility of it nearly overwhelmed him. Such a small hand, to give such great strength.

“Lily was what, Dash?”

“Lily was crouched in the middle of the entry hall, surrounded by a puddle of water. Screaming as if she were dying. Winston, bless him, was trying to help her. As I’ve said, he doesn’t handle illness well. He was retching. Ghost-white and of little use. Mrs. Penrose and Cook were there, shouting orders, trying to help. I’ll never forget Lily’s words. ‘You!’ she screamed when she saw me, just as I came through the door. ‘You put this bastard in my belly and now it’s going to kill me!’” Dash blew out a breath “She was giving birth, right there in the entry, and I had no idea my wife was even pregnant.”

39.

She was driven by the demons of her past…

JESSA CLENCHED HIS hand tighter.

“It seems my lovely wife had managed to disguise her condition from everyone,” Dash said. “Not even Mrs. Penrose knew. Now the babe was coming early. It was too late to send for a midwife. Thank God for the skills of Cook and Mrs. Penrose. I managed to get Lily upstairs, into a bed. She fought—screamed—cursed at me the whole time.”

Beads of sweat popped out on Dash’s forehead. He stared into the fire, the images of that night unwinding before him. “We finally had to tie her to the bedposts, to keep her from harming herself, or the child. There was a knife there, to be used to cut the cord. Lily got hold of it. Tried to slash open her own belly. She tried to come after me with it as well. She was out of her mind with pain, making no sense. She kept screaming this was her punishment for her sins. That the devil had planted his seed in her, that it was clawing its way out, tearing her up from the inside.” He dropped his head into his hand, shuddering before looking back up.

“Dear God, Jessa. I’d never seen a child being born. There was so much blood, I half believed the things Lily was saying. Mrs. Penrose was hesitant to give her anything to calm her, for fear of what it would do to the babe. It was already coming early; we didn’t want to make matters worse.”

Dash wanted to leap up, pace, burn off the tensions the memories brought with them, but Jessa’s hand in his kept him anchored to her side. He shook back his hair, damp with sweat.

“It went on for hours. Cook and Mrs. Penrose—they kept telling me this was normal. But I have to tell you, few things have terrified me more than watching Lily in labor. They tried to get me to leave, but I wouldn’t. Lily was right. This was my fault. I had to bear the pain with her.” He struggled to control the breath sawing in and out of his lungs, his belly clenched in remembered agony.

“Then, the most miraculous thing. I watched Holly being born. First her head emerged. Even coated as she was with the stuff of childbirth, I could see the soft, light colored fuzz on her head. Then the rest of her. But something was wrong. The cord was caught around her throat. She was more blue than pink. I didn’t even think. I cut the cord and blew my own breath into that tiny mouth. Watched her chest rise and fall. Again and again. Lily was—Jessa, we thought Lily was going to die. She was so weak. She’d lost so much blood. I was determined this little girl wouldn’t die as well. Finally, the babe drew a breath of her own. Let out a weak little cry. It was enough. I swore in that instant I’d do whatever it took to protect her. Keep her safe.”

He turned to Jessa, squeezing her hand. “That, Jessamine, is why I’ll never allow you take her from me. I fought for her life. She belongs to me. I wouldn’t allow Lily to take her from me. I won’t allow you to do so either.”

He could sit still no longer. He rose, crossing to stand before the mirror once more. It was not his own image reflected there, but memories of Lily.

Lily dancing. Lily, bold, laughing up into his face. Flirting. Teasing. Beautiful, seductive, treacherous Lily.

A small figure in a plain red flannel robe inserted herself between him and the mirror. Images of Lily scattered, fleeing like shadows in her golden light.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dash. None of it. Lily was—” Jessa sighed. “Tell me how you got that scar. And why you will not have mirrors around you.”

He shook his head. He wouldn’t talk about it. He allowed no discussion of it.

But Jessa wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily. “Mrs. Penrose told me there was a fight. That Lily—there was blood. She said your face—”

Dash pulled her into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He stared into the mirror, then sighed in resignation. Persistent woman. She’d have all his secrets from him. “I never touched Lily after Holly’s birth. Sometimes she’d flirt with me, try to tempt me, but I was done with her. My door—that door,” he said, pointing to the one through which he’d carried Jessa earlier, “was kept locked against her. I blamed myself for the horror of Holly’s birth. So did Lily. It would not happen again. And by then, I’d learned to loathe her. To despise everything about her. I stayed away as often as possible, for as long as possible. But six months ago…” He looked over Jessa’s shoulder, to the face in the mirror. The one that looked as if it had been carved from the same stone that had built Tremayne Hall. His face. He laid his cheek against the top of Jessa’s head, as if somehow that soft golden cloud held healing powers for his ravaged face.

“Lily had been keyed up all week,” he said. “She was laughing one moment, then cruel, cutting the next. All the symptoms she usually displayed when she was deep into another affair.”

Jessa startled in his arms, pulling back to look at him, shock written on her face. “
Another
affair? You mean the night she left— the night she died— Do you mean it wasn’t the first time—”

“Jessa mine, Lily was as faithless as a she-cat. Even here, in the wilds, there was always some man sniffing around her skirts. She never hesitated to lift them for him. Footmen. Stable hands. Men from the village. I don’t know. I stopped caring long ago. The only man she never graced with her favors was her husband, for which I thanked God. For whatever reason, and in spite of occasional lapses, she remained as repelled by me, as frightened, as she’d been that first night. Perhaps she never forgave me for getting her with child. Perhaps she thought only her husband could give her a babe and none of those other men could. Who knows what went through her mind?

“All that week she’d been agitating to go to London. Claimed she was sick of the wilderness. Sick of the weather. Sick of me. She wanted to go to parties. Dance. Lay with someone who didn’t smell of horses. Her temper was volatile. She prowled about like a tiger hunting prey, ready to attack anyone. Everyone. She was a walking powder keg with a dangerously short fuse. I found out why that night.”

He drew another long breath, tucking Jessa’s face against his chest. He couldn’t tell her the rest if he had to look at her. She rested against him, her arms locked about his waist.

“She’d screamed at Holly that day. Slapped her for crying. The nursemaid found me. It took some time to get Holly calmed. I was enraged. I went to find Lily. I was going to have it out with her. I found her here, in this room. Her skirts were pulled up to her waist. There was blood everywhere. I hadn’t seen so much blood since Holly was born. I didn’t know what to think. I ran to help her, but she started screaming at me.”

Jessa’s arms tightened around him. She trembled. She tried to pull back, to look at him, but he couldn’t allow it.

“She’d been carrying another child, Jessa. She’d forced it from her body. I expect the bloodletting quack of a doctor in the village gave her something to induce it. She was out of her mind with pain. She blamed me. She crawled out of bed, screaming horrible things. She said it was my fault. She said I’d made her into what she was. I’d made her both crave and loathe a man’s touch. She couldn’t bear the devil’s seed in her belly again. On and on she went. Wilder. More crazed. She started throwing things. There was broken glass everywhere. Blood. She was still bleeding. Her dress—”

Dash panted, trying to catch his breath. “She picked up a splinter of mirror. I grabbed her. I tried to stop her. I didn’t see it coming. She raked the shard down my face. The pain didn’t even register. She tore out of my arms. Raced into the hallway. That’s what Mrs. Penrose saw. Lily covered in blood. Me, with my face ripped open.”

He shook his head. The memories swamped him. “It took us hours to find her. She’d hidden away in one of the towers. I locked her in her room, with Cook and Mrs. Penrose to care for her. By the time we found her, my face was filthy, blood still seeping from the gaping hole. Winston couldn’t come near me, for all his retching. I stitched it up myself.”

Dash sighed. Jessa shook in his arms. The hot wetness on his chest were her tears.

“Lily wouldn’t come near me after that night. She screamed. Ran away in fright. She said I was a beast. That I was hideous. That no woman should have to look at my gruesome face. She was right. Because it had been neglected, and because of my poor stitchery, the wound was twisted. Buckled. I’d become a gargoyle. A monster.”

“No, Dash! How could you believe that?” Jessa reared back, glaring at him. “Lily was wrong. She was cruel. It was not your face that was twisted. It was her soul. She did that to you. She was the monster, Dash, not you.”

Dash stoked Jessa’s hair, laying her cheek once more against his chest. “I’m learning that. You’re teaching me. But at the time, I believed her. I thought I was to blame. First I’d taken her to my bed. Then I got her with child. She almost died birthing it. Then I made her fear me. I didn’t know about the rest. Not then. The night she died—” He shuddered.

“When I finally got back here the night she died, after the fire, I went through the house—smashed every mirror I could get my hands on. It was my beastly face that drove her into yet another man’s arms. That drove her out into the night. That drove her to her death. I killed her as surely as if I’d done it with my own hands.”

“Dash, you are a damn fool.” Jessa blew an exasperated breath. “She’d been with other men long before she sliced your handsome face. That isn’t what drove her. She was driven by the demons from her past. If you must blame anyone, blame Marcus Wilkerson. He killed her, Dash. Not you. You mustn’t let him destroy you as well.” Her green eyes glittered in her heart-shaped face. Tears ran down her cheeks.

She cried for him. No woman had ever done that.

Another piece of the ice encasing his heart melted.

40.

What agony had he endured at Lily’s hands?

JESSA LED DASH back to the settee, then half pushed him back into it, before settling beside him. His grip on her hand hurt. She struggled to free herself from his grasp. Her emotions were in shreds after the tumult of this long day. She wanted to both run from Dash, and cling to him. His fear, his anger, his love for Holly were there in his pewter eyes. He vibrated with tension.