Anne Perry's Silent Nights_ Two Victorian Christmas Mysteries - Anne Perry [49]
Father Tyndale says it cannot be for long, and you would be most welcome in Susannah’s home. If you write back to him at the enclosed address, he will meet you at the Galway station from whichever train you say. Please make it within a day or two. There is little time to hesitate.
I thank you in advance, and Charlotte sends her love. She will write to you when she is well enough.
Yours with gratitude,
Thomas
Emily looked up and met Jack’s eyes. “It’s preposterous!” she exclaimed. “He’s lost his wits.”
Jack blinked. “Really. What does he say?”
Wordlessly she passed the letter to him.
He read it, frowning, and then offered it back to her. “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to Christmas at home, but there’ll be another one next year.”
“I’m not going!” she said incredulously.
He said nothing, just looked at her steadily.
“It’s ridiculous,” she protested. “I can’t go to Connemara, for heaven’s sake. Especially not at Christmas. It’ll be like the end of the world. In fact it is the end of the world. Jack, it’s nothing but freezing bog.”
“Actually I believe the west coast of Ireland is quite temperate,” he corrected her. “But wet, of course,” he added with a smile.
She breathed out a sigh of relief. His smile could still charm her more than she wished him to know. If he did, he might be impossible to manage at all. She turned away to put the letter on the table. “I’ll write to Thomas tomorrow and explain to him.”
“What will you say?” he asked.
She was surprised. “That it’s out of the question, of course. But I’ll put it nicely.”
“How nicely can you say that you’ll let your aunt die alone at Christmas because you don’t fancy the Irish climate?” he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle, considering the words.
Emily froze. She turned back to look at him, and knew that in spite of the smile, he meant exactly what he had said. “Do you really want me to go away to Ireland for the entire Christmas?” she asked. “Susannah’s only fifty. She might live for ages. He doesn’t even say what’s wrong with her.”
“One can die at any age,” Jack pointed out. “And what I would like has nothing to do with what is right.”
“What about the children?” Emily played the trump card. “What will they think if I leave them for Christmas? It is a time when families should be together.” She smiled back at him.
“Then write and tell your aunt to die alone because you want to be with your family,” he replied. “On second thoughts, you’ll have to tell the priest, and he can tell her.”
The appalling realization hit her. “You want me to go!” she accused him.
“No, I don’t,” he denied. “But neither do I want to live with you all the years afterwards when Susannah is dead, and you wish you had done. Guilt can destroy even the dearest things. In fact, especially the dearest.” He reached out and touched her cheek gently. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t!” she said quickly. “You’ll never lose me.”
“Lots of people lose each other.” He shook his head. “Some people even lose themselves.”
She looked down at the carpet. “But it’s Christmas!”
He did not answer.
The seconds ticked by. The fire crackled in the hearth.
“Do you suppose they have telegrams in Ireland?” she asked finally.
“I’ve no idea. What can you possibly say in a telegram that would answer this?”
She took a deep breath. “What time my train gets into Galway. And on what day, I suppose.”
He leaned forward and kissed her very gently, and she found she was crying, for all that she would miss over the next weeks, and all that she thought Christmas ought to be.
But two days later, when the train finally pulled into Galway a little before noon and Emily stepped out onto the platform in the fine rain, she was in an entirely different frame of mind. She was stiff, and extremely tired after a rough crossing of the Irish Sea and a night in a Dublin hotel.