Page 41 of Winterset

Oliver

There was only one place that I knew Kate would be safe: Summerhaven.

It was not a permanent solution—she’d likely be safe there for only a few weeks, until Markham surmised that I’d sent her there—but the distance from danger would buy us a bit more time to find her a long-term solution.

Kate would leave first thing tomorrow morning, as we had decided. Charlie would accompany her to ensure her protection, but the rest of us—Mrs. Owensby, Bexley, and me—would remain here to maintain an appearance of normalcy.

Rain pelted my study window as I sat at my desk, and I pulled out a piece of paper to write a letter to my family.

I’d been estranged from them for more than two years now, but I knew that if I asked for their help, they wouldn’t hesitate.

Not because of their feelings for me but because it was Damon’s nature to help those in need.

Hannah’s and Mother’s too. If I asked, Damon and Hannah would hide Kate and keep her safe indefinitely.

And Mother would help her find a permanent situation. She seemed to know everyone in England.

I need only find the right words to ask.

A daunting task, considering I hadn’t read any of their letters or written to them in over two years. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to read their letters. I did. More than anything, I wanted to feel like they loved me. Like they needed me. Like I belonged.

But I didn’t.

My whole life, I’d been the spare son. The child my parents had borne to protect the family’s legacy in case their first son met some untimely fate. I was the secondary plan, the reserve, the afterthought.

In my last months at home, none of my family members had even thought to tell me of Father’s failing health or that Summerhaven had been on the brink of ruin.

I’d only learned the truth when I’d read a letter that Damon had written to Hannah in an effort to prove his unworthiness and win her heart—something I still felt ashamed of.

I was a burden to my family.

That was why I’d separated myself.

It hurt like the devil every day, knowing I did not belong, but I knew they were better off without having to worry about me.

That didn’t matter right now though. Only Kate mattered. And I would do anything to protect her, including humbling myself to ask for my family’s help.

I dipped my pen into the inkwell and began:

Dear Damon,

I write you this letter in desperation ...

From there, I poured out my soul about my feelings for Kate, then described her perilous situation with Markham.

I begged Damon to help her. Then I gave Charlie the letter as well as money to hire a private messenger to deliver it immediately.

It would likely arrive only a day before Kate did, but at least they would have a little time to prepare for her comfort.

And in case Markham was monitoring my movements, I wrote a second letter, a decoy letter, to a fictitious family in France, demanding that they send Kate back to Winterset within the week, which I instructed Charlie to deliver to the postmaster.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of panic and packing.

I stayed at Kate’s side all day, afraid to let her out of my sight even for a moment.

Markham had said he would give me a week to deliver Kate to him, but I didn’t trust him to keep his word.

Which is why I had Bexley stand guard at the front door, Mrs. Owensby watch the servants’ entrance, and Charlie patrol the grounds with a gun.

When night finally came, Kate retired to the priest hide in the attic to sleep—the hidden spot seemed safer than her bedchamber—and I retired to my study.

Outside, it stormed. Lightning struck, illuminating the room, and several seconds later, thunder rumbled in the distance.

The worst of the storm would likely pass tonight, but it would make Kate’s journey much more difficult in the morning.

It would probably deter other long-distance travelers though, and that thought brought me comfort.

If we could just make it safely through tonight.

I walked to the window and pushed back the curtain. With the cloud cover and heavy rain, I couldn’t see much outside. But every time another bolt of lightning flashed, it illuminated the grounds: the barren trees, the empty fountain, the stone sentinels that sat atop the gate posts.

Then a different sound caught my notice. A noise inside. A patter of footsteps.

I went directly to the study door and peered into the entrance hall, locking eyes with Charlie, whom I’d asked to take the first shift guarding the front door. Charlie nodded toward the library, and I followed his gaze just in time to see Kate slip inside.

Worried, I followed after her, lightly knocking on the library door and then peeking inside. “Kate?”

She was curled on the small sofa, a blanket around her shoulders, shaking. “Oliver?”

“I heard you run to the library and wanted to check on you. Are you all right?”

She nodded that she was, but her eyes were wide with fear.

“May I sit with you?” I asked.

“I would be grateful,” she said, scooting to one side of the sofa to make room for me. “I find storms so frightening,” she said even as another bolt of lightning flashed.

I crossed the room to the window and closed the curtains, then walked back and sat beside her.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “During storms like this, Papa used to sit with me here in the library. The books dampen the sound, and the storm feels less fierce. I know it’s silly to be scared of a little weather, but—”

“Not silly,” I said. “Weather like this is frightening. Any sailor would agree.”

She gave me a small smile, but she still seemed so scared.

“What can I do?” I asked.

“Papa used to read to me to distract me.”

“I should be glad to read to you. I’m sure you’ve read every book in this library, but what about the ghost story I borrowed from the lending library? Would you like me to read that to you?”

“A ghost story would only frighten me more. Would you tell me about your Grand Tour?”

My chest stiffened. I had no desire to relive that part of my life, for many reasons, but for her, I would. “What would you like to know?”

“Where did you go?” she asked.

“France. Italy. A year in each.”

“You were gone a long time. Why?”

Thunder rumbled outside, and she stiffened. I instinctively put my arm around her shoulders, and she relaxed into my side. “Because I needed to get away. From home. From the man I was becoming,” I answered honestly.

“What sort of man were you becoming?” she asked.

“The type of man who traveled with twenty-seven hats,” I said, and she smiled.

But her smile wouldn’t last long, not once she realized her original perception of me was more accurate than her present one.

“I was the type of man who cared more for himself than for others,” I admitted.

“The type of man who valued leisure and luxury more than love.”

Kate stared up at me, listening.

“Every day, I awoke only to amuse myself: Hyde Park, Tattersalls, Vauxhall Gardens ... All of it was mine for the taking. My plan for the future was to marry a woman with a large enough dowry to support my lifestyle.” I admitted my greatest shame, and she sucked in a breath.

“Then,” I pressed on, “at the invitation of my mother, Hannah came to visit. And over the course of that summer, she helped me see who I’d become.

I didn’t like what I saw, but neither did I know how to change.

I thought I might be able to with her help, but it was too late. She’d fallen in love with my brother.

“Damon married Hannah, my father’s health was failing, and then I was notified that Winterset had become vacant—or so we were told—a house that I wasn’t sure I even wanted, much less was worthy of.

It was a dark and depressing time in my life.

I felt lost and alone, and instead of staying and facing my problems, I fled to France. ”

Another bolt of lightning flashed. Kate flinched and turned toward me.

I wrapped my other arm protectively around her.

When the initial fright had worn away, I thought she would sit back in her seat again, but she didn’t.

She rested her head on my shoulder and looked up at me, her eyes silently asking for me to continue.

Although I disliked sharing this part of my life, I sensed that the sound of my voice was soothing her, so I resumed my story.

“Paris and its many pleasures offered me a momentary escape from pain, but my days had no meaning, my life no purpose. Paris was a beautiful city, but besides Charlie, I was alone. I missed my family and my home, but I felt unwanted and unneeded by both. I wasn’t ready to return to England and take up my responsibilities.

I believed Winterset was better off in Mr. Moore’s hands, so I stayed away. ”

“Who is Mr. Moore?” Kate said.

I didn’t want to tell her. It was deeply humiliating.

But she hadn’t pulled away from me when I’d told her about the other things.

Perhaps it would be all right. Longing for her understanding and absolution, I took a deep breath and hesitantly said, “When Winterset became vacant, I knew it was my duty to come and care for it, but I wasn’t ready to take up the responsibility; I wanted to be, but I wasn’t.

And then Mr. Moore appeared in London, claiming to be Winterset’s butler, and proposed that I hire him to act as my steward.

His knowledge and love for the estate impressed me, and so I did. ”

“That is why your letter was addressed to Mr. Moore?” she said.

I nodded. “I paid Mr. Moore handsomely every month for two years to see to Winterset’s upkeep, so you can imagine my surprise when I arrived here and saw the condition of the manor and grounds. I thought Mr. Moore was ... Well, it does not matter what I thought because I was wrong.”

“I do not know of any Mr. Moore.”

“I don’t think he actually exists. Someone saw an opportunity and took advantage. Perhaps it was someone who knew me in London.”