“How do you know … Sir James?” Cecily asked politely. She was sweet and interested but not rude or pressing, and I wanted to share some of the truth as I knew it might be the last time I could talk with my new sister.
“We were friends and, well, perhaps desired to be more, whilst at court,” I said. “But our lives took us in different directions. I knew that he was honorable and hoped that he would come to help me and Mary now, in our hour of need.”
“Will you marry?” she asked bluntly. ’Twas clear Hugh had not shared my predicament with her.
“I think not,” I said.
“Be he already married?”
“I do not know,” I said.
She pressed no more but kissed me softly and bade me come to her if I had any need before we left or even after.
The next day, while the rest of the realm was busily preparing for the Seymour-Dudley wedding, we prepared to make our way to the port at Liverpool.
As Hugh and I clung to one another and said our good-byes, he insisted I take the tapestry of St. George for Mary’s chamber. “I do not want her to forget that she is English,” he said.
I slipped off a rose-colored ring that had been a prized possession for many years and placed it on Cecily’s finger. “Sisters,” I whispered, and kissed her cheek. We took our leave, and I did not look behind me for fear of wanting to turn back, but I felt Hugh’s desolate gaze upon me and I shared his misery.
Jamie and Gerald rode whilst Lucy, Mary, and I shared a litter that Jamie would pay to have returned to Brighton Manor. As he was the ship’s owner, none questioned who his guests were. He showed Lucy and Gerald to a small, private room for the quick crossing and then installed Mary and me in his own stateroom.
There, over a small dinner of cold fowl and a goblet of wine, I shared Mary’s sad story with him and reminded him that I planned to ask Father Gregory to assist me as I lived as a widow with the babe somewhere deep in an Irish thicket. “Elizabeth Fitzgerald assured me that I could be lost and not found if I chose not to be,” I said.
He nodded. “She is correct. Few English bother with Ireland outside of the Pale, where most English live. We Irish help one another, and as soon as they accept you as their own they will close ranks around you.”
“So you think my asking Father Gregory for help is a good idea?” I asked a bit wistfully, wishing, I suppose, that he would help me himself. His care of and affection toward me did not seem to be that of a man already married, but mayhap he had done as he’d said he would and married a woman not of his choosing.
I cast my eyes down and resolved not to allow myself further affection with him, in case he belonged to another.
“I think it be an excellent idea,” he said. “As soon as I received your letter, I set some men to locate him and I’ll take you there presently.”
We set foot in Ireland and I was immediately charmed by the open, friendly manner of all who spoke to us, low- and highborn. Jamie had arranged for us to be taken some miles inland to the village where Father Gregory ministered.
We arrived at his small church midafternoon. Jamie held my hand as I got out of the litter and I held on to his hand longer than I needed to steady myself because I did not know when or if I would hold it again. Lucy and Gerald attended to Mary, who ran around in circles, happy to let her dimpled little legs regain their strength and her lungs fill with air to shout. I grinned and chased her for a moment, happy, too, to be carefree.
Father Gregory had heard the commotion and came rushing out of the church, taking me in his arms. His face was wrinkled with the age that the past eight years had bequeathed, but he looked happier than I’d ever seen him.
“Mistress Juliana,” he said to me. Then he saw the babe in the background. “Or … lady?”
James stood forward. “Sir James Hart, Father. We’re here to have you marry us, if you will.”
My knees nearly collapsed and Father Gregory reached out his arm on one side and Jamie on the other to steady me. “Oh, no, no, we cannot,” I said, though I could think of nothing I yearned for more.
James looked at me sternly. “And why, Juliana, can we not? Did I misunderstand you yet again?”
I looked at him quietly, begging him for patience, but I would have understood if he had none left. “Jamie, will you please let me speak with Father Gregory alone?”
Jamie excused himself and there, in the back of Father Gregory’s lovely, tiny church, I poured out the whole story to him, including the visions, Mary’s rejection by her family and friends, and John Temple’s attack.
“Now you see, Father, why I cannot marry Jamie. I do not wish him to think ill of me, and I don’t wish him to choose between having a family and having me.”
Father Gregory took my smooth hand in his spotted one. “Do you want to marry him?”
I nodded.
“If he be man enough to fetch you after you rejected him, don’t you think he be man enough to hear the truth and make his mind up for himself? You were required to be strong and independent to master the years that now lie behind you, for Mary, and for yourself. But you don’t need to make all the decisions on your own anymore. James must know the truth and then you must let him decide.”
“Tell him all?” I asked.
“The truth will set you free, daughter,” he said. “You have passed through many evil days. But now, perhaps, you have someone you can lean upon and don’t need to stand alone anymore.”
I held his gaze and knew that, though I was unwilling, I had always trusted Father Gregory and could trust him still. A tiny shoot of hope sprang up within me.
“Now, bring the child to me, and I’ll feed your man and servant, and you set about telling your knight your tale.”
I sat with Jamie in the gardens, the grasses whispering softly with a lilt of their own in the afternoon wind, and told him all. When I came to the part about my rape he stood up and marched away, running his hand through his hair.
“Who was it? Who did this? I will revenge you upon him and ensure he is unable to … harm another woman thusly.”
I let him pace for a moment and when he returned to me I told him, “He’s dead. He was run through with a sword in Scotland fleeing the enemy.”
“Glad I am of it,” he said. “The coward. I shall repay the Scots in favor somehow.”
“Jamie,” I whispered. “Do not think ill of me for bringing this upon myself. I was young and did not understand that if I spoke intemperately or wore a becoming gown I might engender such a response.”
He drew near and took my chin in his hand. “Juliana. Love. You have not been thinking that you were to blame?”
I shook my head and let my gaze drop, unable to contain my sobs. “Perhaps. Perhaps partly if not in whole.”
He came near to me and lifted my chin with his finger. “You, love, did not bring this upon yourself no matter what you said, no matter what you did, no matter what you wore. He was a knave and a criminal. You were, and are, innocent and strong. Be this why you rejected me?”
I nodded. “The midwife who attended me said I would like as not never bear a child due to the scarring. You love children, I know. I will never bear a son.”
“Mayhap never bear a son,” he said.
“Yes. I don’t want to deceive you.” I looked away.
He sat still for a moment. “It would be a sore disappointment, I admit, not to have my own sons to train and to inherit my estates. But there is no other woman I want to marry. As you see I am, these years later, still unmarried because I am besotted with you, have always been besotted with you. The topic is one I have let no one raise with me. You and me, and Mary, we can make our hearth merry. Is that not so?”
He lifted my face to his and the tears came again, spilling over my lashes, and he kissed the tears away.
“And, in my pride,” I continued, “I didn’t want you to think less of me for not being a maid. I wanted you to keep me in your heart and mind as pure and lovely.”