“Now you are being ridiculous. I’m not falling into your arms, so you think I am hysterical. That’s not fair.”
Wycliff moved closer to the hearth. “It is ridiculous to be in a marriage you don’t want.”
He turned from me, tugged on his jacket, and bent close to the flames.
“Are you cold? What are you doing?”
“Freeing you.”
He lit the edge of the paper. It caught fully, glowing and spitting flames before I reached him. I tried to get it, but it was too late.
Bits of the paper danced as embers on the log. Then it was ash.
It was destroyed. I started to cry. “The proof I needed to prove Chris had a father is gone. That was cruel and unkind. That was my paper. You had no right.”
“I just gave up my rights. You can go on with your life. Marry again. I won’t stop you. Write back to your ambivalent barrister.”
“That was all I had to prove Chris had a father. How could you?”
“Chris doesn’t need a claim to the past. He needs someone to love him and shape his future. His cousin Wycliff will do that. I’ve established my position and your widowhood to all that matter.”
“That was my proof.”
“I’m the proof. That piece of paper ties you to C. A. Wilkinson, Chatsworth Adoniram Wilkinson. There’s nothing to hold us together, just as you wanted.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He started for the door.
I didn’t want him to leave, but I didn’t know how to make him stay. I was desperate for him not to walk away.
“Wait. I just need time.”
“Four years apart isn’t enough?”
I ran to him and put a hand to his shoulder. “You aren’t this good. You can’t love me this much. It’s not possible.”
“Everything is possible if you believe. I believed in us.” He kissed my hand. “You’re free, Ruth. My half is gone. Only you and I know that a young couple committed to loving each other in sickness and in health. In death, I did not part.”
I wrapped my arms about his shoulders so he couldn’t leave. I was gentle because I knew his neck was so hurt. “You were always so dramatic.”
“I’ve gone to hell and back. It should be allowed. You’re free.”
“How am I free? You’ve had weeks to know that I was alive. And you’ve been deliberate in making me fall for Wycliff. This is your own fault.”
He turned his face, holding a gambler’s grin, like he’d bet everything and won his nick. “I’m listening.”
“You know who your enemies are. I need to prove mine.”
“Madame Talease is your villain. She bought you when you sought help. She made you one of her girls.”
“No, she didn’t. She’s dying. That’s what Mrs. Johnson came to say. She wants to make amends, clear her ledger entries of all the things unsaid. She sent me a note, telling me good-bye, but she didn’t answer my questions.”
“She wants to repent from selling flesh, for selling yours?”
I shook my head at him. Wycliff didn’t understand. I had to make him. “I need to see her, and you need to take me to her, tonight.”
“She’s an hour from London.”
