I am a doctor; all my training is directed towards the preservation of life. To be the cause, however indirectly, of the death of others, is deeply painful to me. I suffered great pangsof guilt over it, and in fact that was probably one of the reasons I chose not to tell you any of this. I was ashamed.
Believing that I had eliminated the threat to my person, I ended up accepting an offer to take up the post of physician in Pinner where, as you know, I met Hetty and was immediately smitten.
Caught up in the life of Pinner and my courtship of Hetty, I tried to forget the men who died in that ditch because of me and get on with the new life that beckoned to me. But when Ming Liang appeared, I realised my error. The General had followed the trail of his men, learned of their deaths, and sought to avenge them. The third fellow had returned to Dysart and informed him of my treachery, and died of his wounds. Thus, I had the deaths of three men on my conscience.
Ming Liang had tagged along with the fellow from the British Government whom you met, Durand Percival.
Which brings me to the most painful part of my confession. Ming Liang appeared and demanded that I hand over the text and the sword to him. He used Hetty as a means to coerce me, and the end of it was that we fought: I with a knife and he with the sword. He had me at his mercy with the sword, about to decapitate me, when Hetty threw the text at him. It was evident then that he understood the value of the text, for he clutched it to his chest with tears upon his cheeks.
But it seemed that the exertions of the past hours had taken their toll upon him, for he suffered an apoplexy and, despite all my attempts to revive him, he died.
Thus, I have in the end to atone for the deaths of four men.
That is the tale, in essence. My sincerest condolences to the lass, who is, I gather, some kind of relative of Ming.
I remain, ever your affectionate brother
Merlow
Chapter Twenty-Five
Col looked up from the letter to find Aihan’s eyes fixed on him with painful intensity. “What letter say?” she asked, losing her grammar.
“Not good news, I’m afraid,” he said, looking at her with compassion.
“What?”
“I’m sorry, Aihan. Ming Liang is dead.”
She swallowed, staring at him hard, and shook her head. She spoke in her own language. Then, “Nae!” Tears brimmed in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
He pulled her into his arms, crushing the letter between them. “I’m so sorry, Hana!”
She remained stiff in his arms, her hands curled into fists on his chest, her face buried between them. “How?” Her voice was muffled. She pulled her head back. “How?”
“Liang attacked my brother, threatened Hetty, his wife. Merlow had no choice but to fight him?—”
“Your brother kill him!” She dragged herself free of his embrace, her expression ravaged. “Your brother kill him!”
“Nae lass—it wasn’t like that?—”
She snatched the letter from his hand and scanned it, but of course she couldn’t read it and flung it aside in frustration. “Your brother kill mine!” She screamed at him and fled the room. He followed; seeing her fly up the stairs, he went up after her, but she reached her room and slammed the door in his face. He heard the key turn in the lock.
“Hana, let me explain?—”
“Go away!” she screamed, and something heavy hit the door.
He backed away, torn in two by her distress. He considered breaking the door down, but decided against it. He would give her some time to calm down and then try again. She was out of her mind with grief. He understood that.
He returned to his study, straightened out the letter, and reread it. Then with the letter in hand, he went back up to her room and knocked. But there was no reply. He spoke through the door. “I’ll read ye the letter, lass. Then ye’ll understand.” Still silence. He sighed and then cleared his throat and began to read the letter. When he had finished, he waited for some response, but there was none.
He left then. He would try again later.
Aihan still hadn’t emerged by dinner time, so he went up and asked her if she wanted a meal. Predictably, he received no answer. He brought up a tray for her and left it, speaking through the door to let her know it was there.
He had told the boys and Fergus that Aihan wasn’t feeling well to explain her absence. None of them had seemingly heard her screaming at him. Although he wondered if Rory had heard something, for he cast him a suspicious frown. But he said nothing, so Col didn’t elaborate.
The tray was still outside her room untouched when he came upstairs to bed. He was concerned, and knocked softly on her door.Perhaps she had fallen asleep? Worn out with crying?His heart clenched at the notion, and he longed to comfort her. Buther shut door and silence was an unequivocal message that she wished to be left alone. He would give her until morning. He took the tray downstairs to the kitchen and retired to bed, but he couldn’t sleep.
