Chapter 6: Reunion

It was already past eleven when Josie had an opportunity to sit with Henry. His grateful smile gave her a pleasant rush. It was hard to make superficial conversation when they had such weighty issues between them. She told him of the plan to visit Ellen and to ride over to his house for a visit.

"That's great, Josie. There is a lot I want to show you. There's also a lot I need to explain." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I also want to return your husband's money to you. It's blood money. Fortunately I can afford to do without it."

"There's more to it, isn't there?"

He nodded. "If I kept it, I'd feel unworthy of you."

"Unworthy of me?"

"It's hard to explain. All those years, I never felt the need to justify myself for what I did. Until I met you. Now I want to be a good person. I need to feel that you don't despise me."

"I don't! Listen, this is not a good time or place to talk. Let's do that tomorrow. Forget about that money. Take it, spend it or give it to charity; I don't care either way. I care for you, Henry. You were a true friend when we desperately needed one and you were a wonderful companion.

"You said that I gave you the urge to become a better person. That is a wonderful compliment, probably the nicest I ever got. I want to return it. You gave me the feeling that I'm a desirable woman, even a woman for whom you were willing to risk your life. I never felt better in my life than during those few hours in your arms." She pressed his hand. "I have to leave you now before I'll blow our cover."

She gave him a smile and she could see that her smile alone made him happy. This helped her later that night to cope with her feelings of guilt. A guilt that came with the knowledge that she had again given in to her feelings for that dangerous man.

Breakfast with the Carters was fun. They had two children, boys aged twelve and ten. The boys were arguing all through the breakfast. Seeing the two go at it, Josie counted her blessings for having two well behaved daughters. Yet, Rose seemed to float above such things, blithely maintaining small talk with Josie whilst her sons seemed to be only a step short of gun play. Still, when they got up from the table, they briefly forgot their quarrel and hugged their mother. Anthony, the older, shrank away from kissing, but the smaller boy, Richard, was not shy in showing his affection.

After breakfast, Rose and Andrew showed her around the house. The dinner hall impressed Josie in its glory, but there were three paintings on the long wall facing the door that made her gasp with surprise. Noting her reaction Andrew smiled.

"This is a famous set, The Shepherdess, by Melissa Martin," he explained. "Ellen Carter, the third Lady Lambert, posed for those paintings. Family lore has it that she appeared at the gate of High Matcham on a rainy winter day herding her sheep. Young Richard Carter, who would become the third Lord Lambert, fell in love with her on the spot. She was possessed of legendary beauty, but according to her biography, she was also one of the most influential women of her era and a life-long friend of Queen Victoria. And yes, my sister is a spitting image of her if those paintings do her justice. There is another painting of Ellen, also by Melissa Martin, but I gave it to my sister for safekeeping. It's a bit risqué, even by today's standards. You should ask her to see it."

Around eleven, Rose drove her over to Ellen Winthorp's house, Woodbridge Manor. Ellen was waiting outside and she gave Josie a smile in greeting. For the next hour, they toured Woodbridge Manor, another beautiful old country seat. As a special favour, Josie was shown the painting Andrew had mentioned, Leda With The Swan. The beauty and sensuality of the woman portrayed was overwhelming indeed. Josie could not help but let her gaze switch between the painting and her hostess who smiled wryly.

"The other Ellen," she said with a touch of bitterness. "The Ellen who was so completely different from me. The Ellen who married her true love at age 22 and remained married to him and in love for almost sixty years. Colleen MacAllister wrote her biography, and a lot is known about her, even more than about her husband Richard. She was a true woman of the world. She travelled to America, she travelled to India in 1830 and returned via Egypt. Her Memories of the Nile was a best selling book, although she shared authorship with Colleen MacAllister. Don't mistake me for her."

"The physical similarity is striking," Josie said. "But of course, with everyone expecting you to be a reincarnation of her, this must be trying."

"You better believe it!" Ellen snorted. "Well, let's get the horses. I have a gentle chestnut mare for you."

Josie was wearing a pair of Rose's riding pants and a few minutes later, the two women were mounted and riding a leisurely trot northward and towards the River Thames.

"So, what is your story, what are your ghosts?" Ellen asked as they were riding side by side.

The long missed joy of horseback riding put Josie in an easy mood, and for the next half hour she told Ellen about her marriage, or what had passed for a marriage, her abduction and the miraculous rescue by the mysterious Cap. By the end of her story, she saw that Ellen was looking at her intently.

"What?" she asked reining in her mare.

"I should have known," Ellen said calmly. "Everything fits. You are that wonderful woman Harry talked about, the one who helped him overcome his demons."

Josie was on guard immediately. "I don't understand..."

"Yes, you do. Don't worry. I won't breathe a word of this to anybody. It is all so clear. Harry was the one who saved you, Cap, and you are the woman he needed all his life. God, I'm so happy for you!"

"What are you talking about, Ellen?"

"You don't have to admit it, Josie. I understand. I just want you to know that I'm happy for him and grateful to you. You gave him back him to us, to his friends."

"God, Ellen, you embarrass me. I'm not wonderful. I did not do anything. I like him, yes. He was nice and funny yesterday when he drove me to town."

Ellen spurred her horse and took off. "Liar!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Josie felt funny, riding up to Oxford House. Approaching the stately building on horseback was like travelling in a different age. She dismounted with Ellen's help and they tied the horses to a fence.

"Don't let those horses crap in my driveway!" Henry shouted with a grin, coming down the six steps from the arched door.

Ellen did not reply to this taunt but tried to keep her back straight.

"I brought your visitor, Harry," she said softly. "Josie, it's been very nice to meet you. I hope to see you again. I'll be on my way." She gave Josie a quick kiss on the cheek. "You'll have to drive her back to Andrew's by three o'clock at the latest."

"Thank you, Ellen," Henry said giving her a smile. "Welcome, Mrs. Maxwell. I'm really glad that you could arrange to visit."

Waving back at Josie, Ellen rode off leading the mare behind her whilst Henry led Josie up the steps to the entrance. Once inside the house Josie looked around. The entrance hall was newly redecorated and it was dominated by three large paintings. One showed a stately raven haired woman with a distinguished looking gentleman, both dressed in the style of the Regency.

"Doña Maria Isabella Ruiz de Costa y Ortega and her then fiancé, the Marquis de Ste. Croix. Doña Maria was the mother of Antonio Ruiz de Costa, first Colombian ambassador to England and my ancestor." He pointed at a second painting showing a strikingly handsome young man. "That's Antonio. He married the sister of Drew's ancestor, Eleanor Carter, the daughter of Admiral Sir Anthony Carter and his wife Harriet."

That third painting showed a lively, red haired woman of perhaps twenty-two years, perhaps not beautiful, but certainly very pretty even by today's standards. She had a laugh on her lips and flashing green eyes. If the painting did her justice Josie thought, she was a catch for the young Colombian ambassador handsome as he was.

"How come you led such a life when you have such a beautiful estate?" Josie asked in a low voice.

"I fled into the military life after Ellen and I fell out. My father was terribly upset over my choice and he all but kicked me out. I was supposed to follow his footsteps in the City. He died before my enlistment with the Royal Marines ended. I assumed that the estate would be loaded down with mortgages. That's how my father always sounded, as if he didn't have a pot to piss in. I didn't even bother to claim my inheritance. I became a mercenary. There were other reasons for that, such as getting away from England. There was an account that I settled before leaving, a personal matter, and I felt more secure overseas."

"You ... killed somebody?" Josie asked hesitantly.

Henry nodded grimly. "The man who had destroyed my life and the life of somebody I cared for."

Josie quickly caught on. "Ellen's husband? The one who disappeared without a trace?"

"Ted always was a pillar of society; it is only fitting that he became part of a real pillar in the end." His grim smile made her shiver.

"And you have definitely stopped this kind of life?"

"Yes, Josie. I want what everybody else seems to have. A family to care for, a person to love, a home. Well, I have a home, I found a person to love, but I'm still short of a family."

"Not so fast! We need to talk more before we get into this."

"All right! Ask away!"

"I got to know you as a caring and gentle person. How can you be a killer at the same time?"

"That's a difficult question," Henry admitted thoughtfully. "I have asked that myself, and I have not found a good answer. Obviously, this isn't something I can talk about with a therapist, at least not without bumping him off after the session." She looked shocked. "That was a joke. It's just, when I reach a certain level of hatred, I can kill a man and not feel bad about it. Okay, I felt bad. Sometimes I hated myself afterwards, but I can sleep at night. You have to realise that most of these people were like Max or Rico. Not at all nice men."

"If you want to see me again, if you want to develop a friendship with me, you must promise me that you will never return to this profession."

"Deal," Henry nodded without hesitation. "I wouldn't have returned to it anyway."

"So where do we go from here? I mean, I don't know much about you. What do you like, what do you hate? Things like that."

"Maybe we could spend some real time with each other, to find out about the other. What if you came and spent the summer break here? I mean with your daughters. They could explore the property, ride horses, see London. Plus, you and I could get to know each other."

"What would people think?"

"Who cares? You met a man at a barbecue party at Lord Lambert's estate. You found him a nice man," here, he winked, "and you want to get to know him better. You also want to treat your daughters to a visit of Old England. End of story."

"You make it sound so easy. There is still the investigation into Max's death. What if the girls recognise your voice?"

Henry shook his head. "No likely, and the investigation will lead nowhere. There is no physical evidence, the gun is gone for good, Rico and Larry can't testify and the police have nothing on me. Just stick with the story. You met a nice English bloke, lovely country home, loaded with money and good looking, who invited you spend the summer in the English country side."

Josie looked dubiously. "That FBI agent, SA Skinner, comes by every so often to check on me and to give me updates. Do you think she will buy that story?"

"Sure, what's not to believe. You are treating your girls and yourself to a European vacation."

"Would you even have enough room for us?"

"Let me show you," he answered with a smile.

He led the way up the beautiful mahogany stairs. More portraits were hanging from the wall of the staircase. He turned right at the landing and showed her to a large bedroom with a mahogany four-poster bed.

"That would be your room when you visit."

Josie looked around. "Who's room is this?"

"This was the master bedroom. I have no need for such a huge bed. I kept my old bedroom. Let me show you the other rooms."

There were two smaller, connected rooms opposite the master bedroom. Each contained a bed, a nightstand and a wardrobe.

"These are nice rooms," Josie said appreciatively. "Pat and Megan would like them. May I also see your room?"

"Sure. Let me lead the way."

Past the landing, he led Josie to a relatively small bedroom. It was spartan. A bed, a wardrobe, a bookshelf on one side, and a desk with an old swivel chair on the other were all the furniture.

Josie smiled. "This room is very much like you," she said.

Henry blushed slightly and left the room, leaving her with no other option than to follow him. She caught up with him at the landing.

"Henry, what is it? Did I say anything wrong? All I wanted to say is that this room reflects your modesty, your unpretentious personality."

He looked at her. "Josie, it's not what you said. Being in that room and seeing the bed ... I just remembered our night in the basement. Sorry, I couldn't help it."

Josie flushed hotly. She too remembered that night vividly, the night when she for the first time encountered love and lust. She looked at Henry, and suddenly she knew that she had to have him. Now. She would not leave this country before she could experience that wonderful feeling of love and closeness again.

"I like that memory too," she said softly. "It was wonderful. I could not see anything, but I felt you all over me."

Making up her mind she stepped forward and pressed her mouth hard against Henry's. Her tongue sneaked between his yielding lips as her kiss grew in intensity. She swooned when she felt his hands roam over her back and she tore herself away from his mouth. She stared into his eyes.

"I want you to make love to me. I want to see you, and I want you to see me."

Silently, he led her to his room. Facing each other, they slowly and deliberately undressed watching each other with hungry eyes. Josie saw his trim body, the black hair on his chest, his sinewy arms and legs and she drank in the sight of his penis which was standing stiff in salute to her.

Shedding her bra and her panties, she stepped forward again. She sensed that he wanted her to determine the pace. She kissed him again feeling his penis as it rubbed against her soft pubic hair. Josie was 5'11" with long legs, and her hips were almost as high as his. They were matched perfectly she thought.