Saraband for Two Sisters (69 page)

She nodded. “He shouted something and Edwin tried to protect me. … He pushed me into the arbour, and stood in front of me. Then he was shot … The blood was terrible …”

“You … you’ve left him …”

I was ready to run from the room but she caught me.

“Don’t go. Carleton said we must stay here. We must wait. He said I must keep you here. There’s nothing you can do. He’s gone to him. They’ll bring him in …”

“Edwin … shot … dying … Of course I must be with him. …”

She clung to me. “No. No. They will kill both of us … as they’ve killed him. You can do no good. You must obey Carleton.”

I stared at her. I could not believe it. But I knew it was true.

They brought him into the house. They had made a rough stretcher. I could not believe that was Edwin—my merry Edwin—lying there. Alive one moment, laughing at life, and then suddenly he was there no more.

Harriet was with me. She had taken off her cape and washed the bloodstains from her hair.

I kept moaning: “I must go to him.”

But she wouldn’t let me. There had been trouble enough. We must not make it worse.

I knew she was right, but it was cruel to keep me from him.

Carleton came in.

He looked at us steadily. “Are you prepared?” he asked.

It was Harriet who answered, “Yes.”

“Ready. We’re going down to the library at once.”

We followed him down and there he locked the door and opened the bookshelves.

“You will stay here until tonight when I hope to get you away. I’ve sent word to Tom. He’ll be waiting for you in the cave. The boat is there. You’ll wait for the tide and pray for a smooth sea.” He looked at me. “Edwin is dead,” he said expressionlessly. “He was shot in the arbour. He died immediately and would have known little of what happened. There was no pain. Now this operation is over. I shall leave our findings with Tom and he can take them back.”

I said: “I want to see Edwin.”

“Impossible,” he said. “He is dead. It would only distress you. I knew it would go wrong when he brought you with him. It’s too late for regrets now. Fortunately, they trusted me.”

He shut us in, and Harriet put her arm about me.

“You have to be strong, Arabella. We’ve got to get back. Think of your family and how much is at stake.”

“Edwin is dead,” I said. “I wasn’t with him … This morning he was well and so alive and now …”

“He died instantly. He wouldn’t have known anything. That must be a consolation.”

“A consolation. What consolation can there be for me? He was my husband.”

I could say no more. I sank down on one of the trunks and thought of Edwin … as I had first seen him; Edwin as Romeo; the occasion when we arrived at the inn and he saw us there. Oh, he was so much in love with life. He knew how to live it. How cruel that he should be taken.

Then I tried to look ahead to the rest of my life without him.

I could not talk to Harriet. I could talk to no one. I only wanted to be alone with my grief.

It was dusk when Carleton came to us. He smuggled us out of the house to where he had horses ready for us, then he rode with us to the coast where Tom was waiting.

The sea was calm but I didn’t care. I wished there were a storm which would overturn our boat. I could not bear the thought of going back without Edwin.

And through my grief was the horrible suspicion. I kept thinking of myself playing with Chastity: I could see her holding the pretty button in the palm of her little hand.

Edwin is dead, I kept saying to myself, and your carelessness killed him.

What a burden I should suffer for the rest of my life. Not only had I lost Edwin, but I had only myself to blame.

Blithely I had entered into his adventure without fully grasping the seriousness of it. Instead of being the helpmeet, I had been the encumbrance which was responsible for his death.

I knew that I was going to suffer acutely for as long as I lived. It was small wonder that I wished for a sea that would envelop the boat. It was ironical. How merrily we had arrived; how tragically we returned.

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 1976 by Philippa Carr

All rights reserved.

Cover Design by Jason Gabbert

ISBN: 978-1480403703

This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.