Chapter Twenty-Five

Marianne

Edinburgh— Wednesday 15th August 1877

E ver since Monday in Glasgow, I had had a crushing sense of an imminent ending. Now we knew that it was Ada Soutar who had been murdered, and at least part of the reason why, we were close to resolving Rory's old case. Soon he would have answers to the questions that had tortured him for seven long years, or he would know that he would never have answers. If he chose to pursue the matter, that was.

In the tearoom at Dundas Street, he had not seemed particularly eager. After all this time haunted by his failure to solve the case and the blackening of his name, Rory had seemed almost dismissive of his own involvement. Ada's family could grieve. That was enough, he seemed to be saying. He could stop searching for answers. He could leave Edinburgh. Which would be for the best. That's what I told myself over and over during my sleepless night. It would be better for both of us if he left Edinburgh.

I did not love Rory. I would not love Rory. I would never, ever, let myself fall in love again. But I had come perilously close. It terrified me, how close I had come. And he had too. His face, when he left the hotel bedroom on Monday, spoke of how much he felt, and how much he regretted. And his words.

I've never wanted anything so much in my life.

This couldn't feel more right, and that's the problem.

Those were my thoughts, though I hadn't known I was thinking them until Rory spoke them aloud.

The man I thought I loved had turned on me because I would not marry him. I would not surrender my freedom to Francis, bind myself in marriage, become his. But he had made me his anyway, his prisoner, his madwoman. Love had almost killed me.

I would not love Rory. I did not love Rory. Rory did not love me. On Monday, in the hotel in Glasgow, I thought he might. I thought he was on the point of speaking of it. I wanted him to speak, and that's what terrified me more than anything, that I wanted what would destroy me. Rory wasn't Francis. Rory wasn't Francis. All of my instincts told me that I could trust Rory, had told me so from the start. When Rory kissed me, I felt his longing for me. When he was with me, I was sure it was because he wanted to be with me.

This couldn't feel more right.

I felt exactly the same.

And that was the problem. My instincts had let me down with Francis. The one and only time I had been utterly wrong, and the one and only time when I relied upon them to guide me. I couldn't trust myself. I couldn't take the risk that I might be wrong again.

At least my wakeful night had spared me my usual dreams, my usual waking terror. In fact, it had been two or three days since I had woken with the smell of the institution in my nose, my sheets clammy. My dreams had been of Rory these last few nights, not the asylum. A few weeks ago, two weeks ago, as little as a week ago, I'd have given a great deal to pass one night without my dreams of that place, without having to wake terrified, clammy, imagining myself back there. I had done so for the last few days, and I hadn't even noticed!

I rolled out of bed and opened the window. It was still raining, though softly now after last night's storm. The cobblestones on the Grassmarket were shining, slickly wet and treacherous. I was later than usual, for there was Flora, plaid wrapped tightly around her, hair in soaking rat's tails, heading into the tavern. Surely she could not have had much business in last night's foul weather? Poor woman. If I was in her situation, I would be sorely tempted to earn money from Billy Sinclair.

My stomach rumbled. I closed the window and made my coffee, forcing myself to eat some bread and cheese. There was a possibility Rory might be thinking himself in love with me. And oh, if he was—my heart fluttered wildly.

But if Rory found out he was in love with an escaped lunatic, that would quickly put an end to it. I would never trust anyone with the truth about myself again. Rory already knew far more than I should have told him. I would not give him any more power over me. No more kisses. No more thinking about kisses. No more dreaming about making love to him, or remembering those perfect, wonderful, blissful hours in Glasgow when it had been just the two of us. The lovemaking that had been such a revelation. The lovemaking that had introduced me to a whole new world of sensation. The love that Rory had made to me, giving without taking.

Oh, Rory.

Oh, Marianne, get a grip of yourself!

I set my coffee cup down, and jumped to my feet. I needed him to leave Edinburgh. I needed to tell him to go. I sat back down again. Wouldn't it be better if I never saw Rory again? My heart sank. Never?

One last time. Then goodbye. Resolved, I dressed myself and prepared to seek him out to tell him so. I still had no idea where his lodgings were, but Flora might be able to help me. I was pulling on my cloak when there was a rap at my door that made my heart leap in fear. No one ever knocked on my door except the landlord, and my rent was not due. I stood stock still, willing whoever it was to go away. They rapped again.

‘Marianne. Don't be afraid. It's Rory.'

Relief flooded through me. I threw the door open, but seeing him standing there, I was flooded with a very different emotion. ‘What do you want?'

‘I need to talk to you. I know you don't want me here, I know this is your sanctuary, but I need to talk to you, and in private. It's important. May I come in?'

I didn't love him, I told myself as I stood back to allow him in. But my heart was telling me I did. Deluded heart.

He was looking about him, though he was pretending he wasn't. My rooms that were mine and mine alone, were being surveyed. ‘You have quite a view from here.'

I crossed my arms. ‘I was on the point of going out.' To look for him as it happens, but I wasn't going to say so. ‘What is so important—oh! Rory, have you found out who the father of Ada's child is?'

‘What? No. I've a list of possible suspects, but I've decided not to pursue it.'

‘Not pursue it! You've spent the last seven years wondering...'

‘And I reckon I'll never know. I can suspect all I like, but we've not a scrap of evidence to link anyone to Ada's death. We've given her family an ending, and they can grieve now. Whoever was behind it...'

‘Is getting away with murder! And with blackening your name. Destroying your career. You've been wondering and wondering why and who, Rory, for all those years.'

‘I've realised it doesn't matter any more. I've made my life somewhere else. I don't want to go backwards. Whoever ordered Ada Soutar's death will pay in the end. Bad things eventually happen to bad people. But me—it's time I put the whole thing to bed for good. I'm done with it, and I actually feel relieved.'

‘So you're leaving.' I had what I wanted, and now I didn't want it. He said nothing for a moment, words forming and being rejected as he gazed at me, and my stomach roiled, for it was such a look. ‘What is it, Rory?'

‘I've had a telegram. It's not Ada Soutar that I'm here to talk to you about, Marianne. It's my other case. The case that brought me here.'

My legs turned to jelly. I had no idea what he was going to say, but I knew I didn't want to hear it. ‘You said it was suspended for two weeks. You said that you were waiting on something. A piece of the puzzle that needs clarifying, that's what you said.'

‘It's sorted now. Marianne, the case...'

‘Has something to do with me.' It was his face. The tone of his voice. No, it was more than that. All the pieces slotted together, all the clues that he'd given me that I hadn't realised I'd picked up, filed away, until I could make sense of them. The odd times when I'd thought he was on the brink of telling me something important. And the questions he'd asked me. I'd even accused him of interrogating me once. I sank on to the chair. My coffee cup still lay half-full on the table.

‘Marianne, you're white as a sheet.'

I had been right to be wary. I had been right not to trust myself and right not to trust him. I had been looking over my shoulder all this time and it turned out the person they had sent to find me was Rory!