“But shouldn’t we at least let them know how the fire really got started? The things he said, the things he did—”
“His son will live with the legacy of his father’s actions, Catherine. It will be easier not knowing the kind of man he was. If you doubt me, ask my cousin.”
Nodding, she tipped up her chin, showing her resolve. “I shall do better than speak with Winnie and Whit. I shall help them arrange the funeral.” She looked at Bill. “And it shall be very grand indeed.”
“Very good.” Luke looked around the circle. “Are there any questions?”
“I have one,” Catherine said.
Luke arched his brow.
“What task is left to you?”
“The best one of all. I have the honor of arranging Avendale’s delivery to the ship for transportation to his new life on the far side of the world.”
Catherine insisted on going with him. Luke had known she would.
The fog was thick and heavy, chilling the bones. The great ship creaked and moaned against its moorings, as though she were anxious to be off, but she had to wait for her guests to finish shuffling aboard, their leg irons clanking in the pre-dawn stillness.
“How did the duchess take the news of her husband’s demise?” Luke asked.
“She actually wept. I’d not expected that.” She peered up at him. “You don’t seem surprised.”
He shook his head. “People fear loneliness. They prefer living with an unpleasant person to living alone.”
“I don’t know if this is enough. It seems as though he got off rather easily, after all he’s done.”
“He’s a man accustomed to someone tying his neckcloth for him. He’ll be down on his knees scrubbing the deck. His hands will blister, his feet will toughen, and I suspect before the journey is done, he’ll find himself flogged on more than one occasion. I don’t know if there is hell after death, but I do know there is hell in life. I have waited in its antechamber. It is not a pleasant place. Avendale will rue the day he was born. He will be punished, Catherine. Every day, for as long as he lives.
“Although he’s actually managed to do a bit of good with his life, switching places as he has with Thomas Lark, giving the lad an opportunity for a better future.”
“One lad. It seems so little when there are so many.”
“We can’t save them all, Catherine, so we take satisfaction in saving those we can.”
They watched the two hundred and thirty prisoners march up the gangplank and onto the deck of the ship.
“There he is,” Luke said quietly. “The one in the gray coat, with the shoulder so badly torn.”
“I thought he’d resist more.”
“Bill gave me something to pour down his throat to make him as gentle as a lamb.”
“Still, I’m surprised he’s not yelling out his name and rank.”
“Bit difficult to do with a broken jaw.”
She snapped her head around to look at him. He shrugged. “He wasn’t being cooperative.”
They stayed until the last prisoner took his place aboard the ship, until the ship set sail.
Luke heard Catherine breathe a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe it’s over.”
“Believe it.”
Dawn was just beyond the horizon when Claybourne’s coach pulled to a stop in the alley behind Catherine’s residence.
Claybourne. She didn’t think he’d yet grown comfortable with the realization of who he was, but she had no doubt that he would in time. He was the proper earl. She wished she could help him, reassure him, stand by his side as he truly took his place among the aristocracy, but she wasn’t the one he wanted at his side. She knew that. Had accepted it before she ever entered his bedchamber at Heatherwood.
They’d talked of nothing personal since the night of his revelation. That, too, was how it should be.
The coach door opened. Claybourne climbed out, then extended his hand to her.
For the last time, she placed her hand in his, felt his strong fingers close over hers. For the last time, she stepped out, inhaling the masculine scent that was his alone. For the last time they walked side by side to the gate, speaking not a word, as though too much remained to be said and so little time remained to say it.
She cleared her throat. “I’ll arrange a tea for Frannie, begin introducing her into society.”
He nodded. She swallowed. “So we’re in agreement there’ll be no more evening lessons.”
He nodded. She extended her hand. “Then, thank you, my lord. Our arrangement has been…gratifying—”
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, almost savagely, as though this moment was as painful for him as it was for her. Of their own accord, her arms wound around his neck. She didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want another woman in his bed, in his life, in his heart.