Dragonfly in Amber - Diana Gabaldon [410]
The trembling of her lips, making her normal stutter seem comprehensible by comparison, should have warned me. But the words, once she got them out, struck through my heart, sharp and sudden as a thrown dirk.
“Th-they h-h-hanged him,” she said. “At the p-park g-gate.”
* * *
It was some time before I was able to pay attention to my surroundings. The flood of shock, grief, fear, and shattered hope washed over me, swamping me utterly. I was dimly conscious of Mary’s small hand timidly patting my shoulder, and her voice offering handkerchiefs and drinks of water, but remained curled in a ball, not speaking, but shaking, and waiting for the relaxation of the wrenching despair that clenched my stomach like a fist. Finally I exhausted the panic, if not myself, and opened my eyes blearily.
“I’ll be all right,” I said at last, sitting up and wiping my nose inelegantly on my sleeve. I took the proffered towel and blotted my eyes with it. Mary hovered over me, looking concerned, and I reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
“Really,” I said. “I’m all right now. And I’m very glad you’re here.” A thought struck me, and I dropped the towel, looking curiously at her.
“Come to think of it, why are you here?” I asked. “In this house, I mean.”
She looked down, blushing, and picked at the coverlet.
“The D-Duke is my godfather, you know.”
“Yes, so I gathered,” I said. “Somehow I doubt that he merely wanted the pleasure of your company, though.”
She smiled a little at the remark. “N-no. But he—the Duke, I mean—he thinks he’s found another h-h-husband for me.” The effort to get out “husband” left her red-faced. “Papa brought me here to meet him.”
I gathered from her demeanor that this wasn’t news requiring immediate congratulations. “Do you know the man?”
Only by name, it turned out. A Mr. Isaacson, an importer, of London. Too busy to travel all the way to Edinburgh to meet his intended, he had agreed to come to Bellhurst, where the marriage would take place, all parties being agreeable.
I picked up the silver-backed hairbrush from the bed table and abstractedly began to tidy my hair. So, having failed to secure an alliance with the French nobility, the Duke was intending to sell his goddaughter to a wealthy Jew.
“I have a new trousseau,” Mary said, trying to smile. “Forty-three embroidered petticoats—two with g-gold thread.” She broke off, her lips pressed tight together, staring down sightlessly at her bare left hand. I put my own hand over it.
“Well.” I tried to be encouraging. “Perhaps he’ll be a kind man.”
“That’s what I’m af-fraid of.” Avoiding my questioning look, she glanced down, twisting her hands together in her lap.
“They didn’t tell Mr. Isaacson—about P-Paris. And they say I mustn’t, either.” Her face crumpled miserably. “They brought a horrible old woman to tell me how I must act on my w-w-wedding night, to—to pretend it’s the first time, but I…oh, Claire, how can I do it?” she wailed. “And Alex—I didn’t tell him; I couldn’t! I was such a coward, I d-didn’t even say goodbye!”
She threw herself into my arms, and I patted her back, losing a little of my own grief in the effort to comfort her. At length, she grew calmer, and sat up, hiccuping, to take a little water.
“Are you going to go through with it?” I asked. She looked up at me, her lashes spiked and wet.
“I haven’t any choice,” she said simply.
“But—” I started, and then stopped, helpless.
She was quite right. Young and female, with no resources, and no man who could come to her rescue, there was simply nothing to do but to accede to her father’s and godfather’s wishes, and marry the unknown Mr. Isaacson of London.
Heavyhearted, neither of us had any appetite for the food on the tray. We crawled under the covers to keep warm, and Mary, worn out with emotion, was sound asleep within minutes. No less exhausted, I found myself unable to sleep, grieving for Hugh, worried for Jamie, and curious about the Duke.
The sheets were chilly, and my feet seemed like chunks of ice. Avoiding the more distressful things on my mind, I turned my thoughts to