The Hands of Time Page 12

  Alec wished he could have left Valerie at home, but she had to come. He did not feel safe leaving her alone with only John Dobbs for protection, and this might be her only chance to say goodbye. Seeing Finlay would be difficult, especially if he had been beaten or tortured, but not seeing him would be even worse. He hoped that she wouldn’t lose the baby from shock, but it was a chance he had to take. Finn would want to see her one last time and he owed his brother that much.

  Valerie began to stir, so he composed his features into a semblance of calm. It would not do to let her see how scared and helpless he felt. She needed him to be strong right now, and he would do whatever it took to get her through this. He would fall apart later, when no one was watching.

  Chapter 37

  Finlay spat the loose tooth from his mouth, tasting the blood on his lips. He faced his tormentor, daring him to hit him again. He had been arrested just as he was leaving town on the morning on November 5th. The plan had been foiled; someone had betrayed them. He heard that Guy Fawkes was found in the cellar guarding the thirty-six kegs of gunpowder meant to detonate later that day, and had been arrested and taken to the Tower as well, but he had not seen him. He hadn’t seen anyone. He had been taken down to the chambers below the Tower used for questioning, and been there since.

  That was a funny word, he thought. No one really questioned him. They tortured him for information, starting with a simple flogging which left his back bloodied and torn to shreds, then proceeding to more creative methods. Tomorrow they would probably put him on the rack. The thought of being stretched on the rack made his guts constrict with fear, but he tried to keep it at bay. He had nothing to tell them. He knew nothing. His part in the plot had been to secure two kegs of powder, which he did, delivering them to a designated spot. He knew nothing more. He didn’t even have all the names. He only knew a few people with whom he dealt directly.

  Finlay closed his eyes as a bucket of ice water crashed over his head. He deserved everything he got and more. He had destroyed everything. There was no way of getting out of this, and he knew that he wasn’t the only one going down. Alec would be affected as well, being the brother of a traitor, not to mention Valerie. The thought of Valerie brought tears to his eyes, but he didn’t have to much time to feel sentimental, since a sledgehammer came down on his knee blocking out all coherent thought.

  He wasn’t sure how long he had been out. There was no window in the cell, so he had no concept of the passage of time. His torturer was still there, eating something out of a wooden bowl and enjoying a mug of ale. The thought of food made Finn sick, and he turned his head, vomiting on the floor. That earned him a kick in the face from the side-kick, and he spat out more blood along with the vomit. He had a brief respite while the oaf finished his food, and then it was back to the questioning.

  “Names of other conspirators,” the man said.

  “I don’t know,” he spat out, knowing what was to come.

  “Hold him down, Bill,” the man said, as a hammer crushed the knuckles of his left hand one by one. Finlay was grateful for the darkness that enveloped him, hoping not to return to the light.

  Chapter 38

  It took several days for Alec to find a guard who was desperate enough to take his money. All the others had turned him away, telling him they were under strict orders not to allow anyone to see the prisoner on pain of severe punishment. No money was worth it. They all treated Alec with contempt, knowing that his brother tried to murder the King. Most of them secretly despised James, but a monarch was a monarch, and you didn’t just walk into Parliament and blow him up. Some of them had a grudging respect for the plotters, but they had to keep it to themselves for fear of being thought sympathetic to their cause. These days a man had to keep his head down if he hoped to survive and prosper.

  The turnkey, Kerns, did his rounds at night, and took a lesser risk than the others. He would admit Alec after midnight, locking him in the cell with his brother for a few minutes, before escorting him back outside. He had asked for an exorbitant sum of money, but Alec paid him without haggling, desperate to see Finn. It was half now, half after, so the man would not change his mind. Kearns was only too happy to inform Alec that his brother had been tortured for days, and lay broken and nearly mad with pain in his cell, awaiting his farce of a trial.

  “Valerie, I want you to stay here. Kearns will only allow one person in, and that person is myself.”

  I knew Alec was just making up an excuse. He didn’t want me to come for other reasons. I knew that Finlay had been beaten, and Alec was afraid for me to see him like that, but I had to come. If this was my last chance to see Finn, I had to tell him how much I loved him; reassuring him that I would take good care of our child, raising him or her as Finn would have wanted in the Catholic faith. I needed to say goodbye. Before we came to London, I still harbored hope that maybe Finlay would be spared. Money could do wonders and Alec was willing to pay, but seeing the mood of the people changed my mind.

  The crowds were crying out for the blood of the traitors, and they would all be executed, the only question being who would get the maximum sentence, and be drawn and quartered for the entertainment of the masses. I didn’t need to ask what drawing and quartering meant. I saw Braveheart. It was the worst possible way that a person could die, and I prayed fervently Finlay would not have to face that on his last hour on Earth.

  Alec and I argued for hours, but at last I put up the hood of my cloak and followed Alec into the night. We stayed close to the buildings, lost in shadow, until we finally reached the agreed upon spot. Alec gave a low whistle and the little square in the thick door opened up to reveal the face of the turnkey. He was middle-aged, with a scar across his cheek and several missing teeth. I could see him smiling greedily as he eyed the purse of gold in Alec’s hand, and let us in, shutting the heavy door behind us.

  “I said one person,” he growled. “’Twill be an extra charge for the woman.”

  “Fine,” Alec said. “Just take us to him.” We followed the guard through a low arched doorway into the fortress, walking along a narrow hallway made of rough-hewn stone, lined with doors. All was quiet, and the light of Kearn’s candle cast sinister shadows on the walls as we followed him into the bowels of the prison. We descended a narrow staircase, and I was startled to hear moans and screams coming from the cells down here. I hoped none of the screams came from Finn.

  The walls down in this part of the Tower were rough, damp from dripping water coming from the Thames. Alec held on to my arm so I wouldn’t slip on the slimy stones. Kearns finally reached a door at the end of the corridor, taking his time finding the right key.

  “Right. I will lock ye in and be back in a quarter hour. Ye best be finished by then. Not a minute longer, ye hear?” He inserted the large iron key into the lock and turned it with some difficulty, before pushing the door open and motioning us inside. Thank God Alec was right behind me, because I would have gone crashing down to the stone floor. Finlay lay motionless on the damp floor. His hair was matted and wet, his clothes covered in vomit and blood that was beginning to dry on his damp clothes. I crouched next to him, touching his face. It was so bruised he was barely recognizable. Several teeth had been knocked out, and his cheek had a long gash that was still oozing blood. I nearly fainted when I saw his hands. They looked completely mutilated, swollen, and dark with congealed blood. It seemed as if every bone had been deliberately broken.

  Finlay’s eyes fluttered open, as he tried to focus on our faces in the dim light of the cell. I wasn’t sure he could even see us, but he tried to smile, his lips starting to bleed again.

  “Valerie, you’ve come, my angel.” He seemed to think I was just a hallucination, so I tried talking to him.

  “Finn, I’m here, love. Alec is here too. Can you hear me?” I tried not to cry, but my voice was shaking badly and I leaned down and kissed his brow, trying to soothe him.

  Finn seemed to find some last reserve of energy, and turned his head toward
me. “Valerie, I am so sorry,” he whispered. “I just wanted our child to have the freedom that we had been denied. I ruined everything. Don’t grieve me, my love. I don’t deserve it. I want you to marry Alec and take care of our son. He loves you. He will take care of you. Alec, come here.”

  Alec knelt next to Finn’s face trying to hear what he said. “Promise me you will take care of my wife and child. Promise.”

  “I will Finn, you know I will.” Alec was trying not to cry, as he turned away for a moment trying to hide his emotion.

  “Alec, give me the last rites. Please.” Finn sounded so hoarse we could barely hear him, but Alec knew what he wanted. He bit his thumb hard, drawing blood, and went on to say the prayer, making the sign of the cross on Finn’s forehead with his own blood for lack of oil. Finn seemed to relax a little at the sound of the words, then opened his eyes and looked up at Alec, a silent message passing between them.

  “Valerie, turn away,” Alec didn’t sound in the mood for an argument, so I did as I was told. All was quiet for a moment, and I turned around just enough to see what he was doing out of the corner of my eye. Alec took off his coat, folding it until it was the size of a small pillow. He placed it over Finn’s face, holding it down until Finlay’s legs stopped twitching. He held it for a few moments longer; making sure Finn was truly dead, before removing the coat and putting it back on like nothing happened. I put my arms around myself, a silent sob erupting from deep within me as I heard the scraping of the key within the lock.

  “Ye best be finished now,” Kearns said, peering into the cell, motioning for us to leave. “Passed out, did ‘e?”

  “Thank you, we are done. Come along Valerie,” Alec took me by the arm and escorted my out of the cell by force, hissing for me to be quiet. He threw the purse of gold at the turnkey as he led us out to the gate, and walked through silently, still half dragging me along.

  I was gulping air, but I felt like none of it was reaching my lungs. They burned, and I coughed trying to catch my breath. The tears were choking me. I was shaking so badly my teeth were chattering and biting my tongue painfully.

  “Valerie, you have to be strong for Finlay. We need to get away from here now. If they find out, I will be arrested for murder,” Alec whispered in my ear urgently. “Come now.”

  I couldn’t remember how we got back to the inn, or how I got undressed and into bed. Alec must have undressed me, for I was shaking and crying too hard to be able to undo the hooks on the corset, or open the tiny buttons at the back of my dress. He lifted me up gently and lay me down on the bed, getting in next to me and pulling me into his arms. I could feel him shaking and crying into my hair, as we lay awake until the first fingers of pearly morning light began to poke through the tiny window; reminding us that another day had come, a day in which Finlay was no longer living.

  Chapter 39

  I could barely remember the next few days. We had to lie low until it became common knowledge that Finlay Whitfield had died from his injuries, before he had the chance to be executed. Alec eventually went to the Tower, asking to take his brother’s body home, and after enough coin changed hands, he was finally able to get his corpse. There was no way to bring Finn home in the carriage. Alec bought a cart which he hitched to the carriage, in order to transport the pine box containing the remains of his brother, and my husband, home. I’d barely been able to function since the night Finlay died, and Alec helped me dress, fed me and put me to bed like a loving nurse. He was lost in his own grief, but taking care of me gave him something to do other than grieve.

  We finally made it home, and I was passed on to Bridget, as Alec went about planning the funeral. He had decided, much to my surprise, that he would bury Finn by the old Abbey ruins. There was no Catholic church in England, and the Abbey was consecrated ground despite being destroyed. Finlay would have wanted that, and I accepted it without question. We were a sad little procession, as we made our way to the Abbey, over hard ground dusted with the first snow of the season. Alec and Robbie had dug a grave the day before, stabbing at the frozen ground for hours, before finally making a hole deep enough to hold a coffin. Alec read the funeral service for lack of a priest, and the coffin was lowered into the ground, dirt hitting the top with a finality that broke my heart.

  How was it possible to have loved someone so much after knowing them only a few months? I’d been with Michael for years, but my misery over losing him didn’t come anywhere close to the sense of loss I felt now. Finn had brought me back to life, had loved me and cherished me, in a way no man ever had. I knew he was impulsive and fickle, and might have gotten bored with me in time, but he loved me with all the might of his passionate nature. I lay my hand on my belly, telling the baby to say goodbye to the father it would never know. “Goodbye, Finn,” I whispered through hot tears, and turned, unable to look at that lonely grave for another moment.

  Chapter 40

  I barely noticed November end and December begin. I was in a fog of grief, and Alec and I floated about the castle like two ghosts, occasionally bumping into each other. Alec was home most of the time, since the ships were no longer sailing, but he left for long stretches to go hunting alone, always coming back with pheasants or rabbits for Mrs. Dobb’s pot. We didn’t lack for food; he simply needed to get away from the place where every inch reminded him of his brother.

  December passed with no acknowledgement of Alec’s birthday or even Christmas. Bridget spent Christmas at the Dobbs, away from our gloomy presence, and Betty came by to offer her good wishes only to be turned away. We were not receiving visitors, not that any came by. We were the family of a traitor, not exactly the connection that raised one’s social standing. We’d heard that all the conspirators were to be executed in the New Year, and we were happy Finn would be spared that at least. He was sleeping peacefully, underneath a fluffy blanket of snow next to the Abbey where he liked to play as a boy. He was safe with us, away from the crowds baying for his blood, wanting to see him suffer the most gruesome punishment the brain of a man could come up with. I longed to go visit his grave, but the path was covered with knee-deep snow, and I would have to wait for the thaw to pay my respects and lay flowers on his grave.

  I managed to keep busy during the day, but nights were the worst. I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning, missing Finn at my side. When I did eventually fall asleep, I would dream of him, waking up with tears of joy, only to find the bed empty and cold; Finn really dead. I’m not sure what made me do it, but I got up one night and walked barefoot down the cold, draughty passage, up the stairs to Alec’s room. I simply entered and climbed into bed with him, seeking the warmth of his body and the comfort of his soul. He drew me against him, warming my cold feet between his legs, and whispering words of comfort. I finally slept through the night warmed by his touch.

  I began coming into his room several times a week. He held me and comforted me until I fell asleep, but was always gone by morning; off to hunt or ride, not wanting to face me in the cold light of day. He never touched me inappropriately, and I was half thankful, half frustrated, by his lack of desire. He was distant and sad, and I hoped that in time we would be able to overcome our grief and find a way forward.

  Chapter 41

  Alec sat staring into the leaping flames in the hearth, the wind howling outside the window sounding like a woman wailing for a lost lover. The world was covered with a thick blanket of snow, and the castle felt as if it was the only inhabited place left on earth. The house around him was silent, everyone sound asleep, as he drained his glass of brandy and considered pouring another, but then stopped himself. He was drinking too much again, and wouldn’t allow himself to get into a downward spiral the way he did after he lost his parents, Violet, and then Rose. He wondered where Rose was on this cold night, hoping that monastic life had given her what she had been seeking.

  Finlay refused to speak of Rose, calling her every name he could think of after she left, but Alec thought he understood. He remembered holding Rose aft
er she was born, pink and wrinkled, excited to have a sister. He had been eight-years-old, and full of chivalrous ideas about protecting her virtue when she grew up and was at least five. She had been the first girl to survive infancy, and Alec dragged her everywhere with him once she began walking, annoying five-year-old Finn, who just wanted to sword fight with sticks and hurl stones at the walls pretending he was breaching the castle after a long siege.

  Rose had always been different. She never joined in their games, even as she got older, and they needed a fair maiden to rescue; preferring to read the Bible, and manuscripts about the lives of the saints. As she got older and the subject of marriage came up, she retreated further into herself, refusing any potential suitor. The idea of belonging to a man and having no control over her body, terrified her as she watched their mother get with child yet again. She covered her ears and cried without making a sound, as she sat on the top step, rocking back and forth in a fit of hysteria, as their mother’s screams echoed through the corridor laboring to bring Charlie into the world. She didn’t even want to hold her new brother, repulsed by the act that brought him into existence.

  Rose was not meant for physical love and motherhood. She ran away to hide behind the walls of the monastery, in a desperate attempt to retain control, and spare herself what she thought to be degrading and frightening. He didn’t really blame her; he just wished that she hadn’t felt the need to cut them out of her life so completely. Valerie and Finlay’s child were his only family, for the time being, until he saw Charlie again.

  The thought of Valerie nearly undid his resolve not to get drunk, and he set the glass on the table, his eyes never leaving the fire. Life was hell since the death of Finn. He grieved his brother every moment of the day, tormented by guilt at not being able to save him from himself and from his fate. He could see Finn in every corner of the castle, hear his voice in his thoughts, feel his presence in the form of his unborn child, and the tears of his desolate wife.