A Dreadful Splendor (84)

There was a pause; I counted each thump of my heartbeat. Then he leaned forward, delicately placing the cup back on its saucer. “What do you mean?” he whispered.

“She told me of your love. That you planned to run away together the night before the wedding.”

He was stone, unmoving. Then his eyes shifted to his black medical bag.

“The dead speak to me,” I said again, wanting to reclaim his attention. “They have no reason to lie.” I pushed as much strength into my voice as I could, but my muscles were heavy. How much tonic had he given me?

His voice was quiet, controlled. “So you’re the only one who knows? Or rather, the only living person?”

My throat tightened. “She left her room that night to meet you,” I continued. “But you weren’t there. Why? What happened?”

His jaw hardened, the veins in his neck becoming visible.

I sensed peril, but I didn’t care. “Or maybe you were,” I said. A vision flashed before my eyes: Dr. Barnaby with his arms outstretched, Audra’s cries disappearing beneath him as she plunged into the rocks below. He was a convincing liar; perhaps he never loved her at all. “How could you, knowing she was carrying your child?”

His veneer finally broke. His body shuddered, and he pressed a fist against his lips as he closed his eyes. A quick succession of deep gasps broke the silence. I watched his chest quiver with each sob.

The torment was authentic.

He took several breaths to calm himself, wiping the corners of his eyes with a handkerchief. “My apologies,” he said, voice thick. “You are the first person I have been able to grieve Audra, and our child, in front of.” His brown eyes pleaded with me. “You don’t understand what it’s been like to stand alongside her family and her fiancé as they mourn, all the while hiding my own unfathomable heartache. Some days the promise of the cliff’s edge is too sweet to ignore. Just one step and I’d never have to feel this insufferable agony anymore.”

I was in awe of his profound pain. How had he managed to hide it for so long? “Why didn’t you meet her that night?” I asked.

“I tried! I waited in the stable for hours. She’d specifically asked me to saddle Sadie, but she never arrived. I assumed she had changed her mind. I confess, I completely understood why she would. She was leaving the only family and the only home she’d ever known. A doctor’s salary could hardly afford her the lifestyle she was used to.”

He stood abruptly and went to the window. The light illuminated the deep frown lines etched across his face. “I lied to you just now. I wasn’t with Pemberton all night, obviously. I slipped a tonic in his nightcap to make sure he wouldn’t wake until we were long gone. He was still sound asleep when I returned to the cottage at sunrise.”

“You went nowhere near the cliff?”

He turned to me, the anguish so apparent I could see it pressing down on him, threatening to send him to his knees. “It is the second-greatest regret of my life that I didn’t take Sadie and wait for her directly outside the kitchen door.”

Now I could see it; he’d adored her. I imagined them living together in a quaint cottage, far away, their sweet little baby playing at their feet. It was an incomprehensible loss. This was his torture—to be in this house, to pass by her portrait in the hall, to stroll the greenhouse and think of a future that would never be. It was cruelty beyond measure.

“I’m sorry,” I said, watching him behind drooping eyelids. The tonic was taking effect.

Regaining his composure, he reached for his bag. “I know they brought you here to bring peace to Pemberton. But I wonder if I may join your séance. I am a man of science, but I’ve witnessed events that defy explanation. You must have a connection to the other side if you know about Audra and me. No one was aware. We were very careful. She needs to know I will never forgive myself for not being there when she needed me most.”

My answer came quickly, a result of so many years of practise. “It will be a benefit to have you at the séance,” I said. “Her connection to you is strong.”

“Thank you. I beg you to not divulge this secret to anyone, especially Pemberton. He’s the only one left in my life that matters. If I lose his friendship now, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover.”

“He has a right to know,” I said. I felt my bones sink deeper into the bed.

“I will tell him when the time is appropriate. I promise,” he answered.

The air felt different, the earlier tension having dissipated, or maybe the medicine was taking effect on my senses. Still, I had one more question before he left.

“You said not meeting Audra at the kitchen door was your second-biggest regret,” I asked. “What’s the first?”

His posture caved. “Audra told me she was sleepwalking,” he replied. “She was worried she was going mad like her father and her grandfather before him. I told her it was only the pregnancy.”

“But now you’re uncertain?”

“We all wonder what happened to Audra, but I believe the most plausible explanation is that she went off the cliff of her own volition.” The lines in his face seemed more prominent. “Rest now,” he said. “Pemberton is waiting for me to give my report.”

I was already partly asleep. The rain continued to batter against the panes. Audra’s words appeared behind my eyelids.