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“I could not bear a life of watching Daniel love another. I could not.” He reached out a hand toward Catherine. “I could have supported his sacrifice with you, even if he’d devoted himself entirely to loving you. I would know the cost. The price he’d paid. But I could not stand by and watch him give himself to your brother.”
Unbelievably Catherine seemed entirely sympathetic. Nicholas could kill the man where he sat, yet her eyes watered with empathy.
“I delivered the missive to Stratton Hall, then went to the clearing where I knew they met regularly.”
Nicholas remembered the mystical clearing he’d stumbled across when he’d been tortured by the pain of loss. Images of his brother shimmered in the light. Surely it was coincidence?
“I meant to kill myself before they arrived. I wanted them to find my pathetic, prostrate body.” He smiled sadly at Catherine. “I envisioned Daniel’s sorrow and his life filled with mea culpa.”
She started to get up, to go to the man, but Nicholas reached out and held her arm firm.Mea culpahis ass. It did not explain how Isaac had killed Daniel. Catherine glanced at Nicholas. Sorrow warred with irritation. At him! She hesitated, then relaxed in his grip, settling back against the sofa.
“Go on, Isaac,” she said, her tone encouraging and far more composed than his would be if he spoke. The magnetism of Catherine and Isaac’s connection at the moment was undeniable. Silence hung, suspended. Nicholas modulated his breath, and his temper, and waited.
“I must admit to a fear of death. I needed Daniel to be present to face it.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Daniel entered the clearing to find me with the pistol raised to my temple.” He frowned at Fredericks. “Regrettably, Grandpapa, alive or dead, I would shame you.”
“Son,” Fredericks said gruffly. “I am not ashamed of you.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Only of your actions.”
Isaacs’s eyes glistened. “Thank you,” he whispered before focusing on Nicholas.
“Daniel arrived to find me in that state.” Isaac’s head sagged, his chin resting against his chest. Everyone waited. Eventually he raised his head. “Daniel jumped me, not thinking of his own safety but trying to save me from my stupidity. The pistol fired.” He swallowed a sob. “He tried to save me, and in doing so, he died. He died because of me!”
Catherine threw herself from the sofa onto her knees, exhaling sharply. Isaac startled, then threw his arms around her neck, bawling like an abandoned calf. Nicholas watched her soothe the blackguard, slowly stroking his back, and murmuring as one would with a frightened child in the night. Nicholas knew how much she must hurt right now, yet he could only watch, mesmerized by the scene and awed by her deep caring. When Isaac was sufficiently quietened, she leaned back, brushing his curling hair from his forehead.
“There is no crime in love, Isaac.”
Her voice was quiet, but it resounded through Nicholas’s body. Was it ever criminal to love?
“Walford?” Thornwood’s voice broke through the moment. “The blackmail?”
Thornwood was quite correct. This wasn’t making sense. Isaac was gazing adoringly at Catherine. It grated Nicholas’s already frayed nerves.
“If you loved him so much, why blackmail his family?” Nicholas asked. “Why drag down Lady Walford to your pathetic depths?”
The cherub glared at Langdon, whose dark scowl mirrored Nicholas’s own disgust. “Him!”
“Langdon?” Nicholas was thoroughly lost. What the hell had Langdon done?
Isaac’s annoyance was clear. “Grandpapa convinced me you would need a valet, that my life still held purpose serving the new Lord Walford, that I could make amends by doing so. Daniel loved you, and I knew he would want you taken care of fully. In his memory, for the peace of his soul, I would do it. Then you brought him here.” He scowled again at Langdon, who shot Isaac daggers of his own.
Isaac’s glowering slipped away when he recaptured Catherine’s attention. “When you left, my lady, I knew there was no longer a place for me here. That I could not even watch over you as Daniel would have done.”
Nicholas had heard enough. “Take him away. I don’t ever want to see him again.” A collective gasp met the pronouncement. He looked at the people he loved. Fredericks. Nan. Most of all, Catherine. They were all aghast at his proclamation.
“What would you have me do?” he asked, looking at their shocked faces.
“Deportation?” Thornwood suggested. “With the war expanding daily, they need all hands on deck in the colonies. Perhaps you can press him into His Majesty’s service?”
It was a solution that should be amicable to all. Well, all except for perhaps Isaac, who appeared distraught at the thought. Good. Nicholas glanced at Thornwood, grateful his friend was so clearheaded.
“Yes, just the thing. Fredericks?” Nicholas shook off guilt as the old man gave a subtle tip of his chin, indicating his agreement.
Catherine relinquished her hold on Isaac and slowly stood, her breathing hesitant. “Nicholas,” she whispered softly as though only he could hear despite all ears attuned to her every word. “Passage and some coin. Let it be his choice to join the service, as it was yours. Let him have some say in his destiny.”
He stared at her, shocked at the suggestion. The man had tried to take them down. “How can you ask it of me? This man threatened to put our families in jeopardy. He has attempted blackmail!”
“Out of fear, Nicholas. Out of love…out of loss.” She gripped his arm. “Please. Do not deny him a fresh chance. In memory of Daniel, if nothing else. Daniel, who would be the first to grant clemency.”
Compassion. Had Nicholas not been torn apart when none was shown at Badajoz? He could not change the course of events that led to Daniel’s death, to this attempt at extortion. A man’s life lay in Nicholas’s hands. Fredericks’s face was blanched, his eyes unnaturally neutral—a sure sign he was fighting his own emotions. Nicholas held his gaze, hoping for a signal. None was given.
