Forever Waiting by DeVa Gantt

Author:DeVa Gantt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

Monday, August 27, 1838

The ocean was so blue Frederic could not distinguish it from the sky. It was the color of Colette’s eyes. How had he allowed this to happen to his beautiful wife? To sweet, innocent Pierre? With an aching heart and paralyzing remorse, he looked at John. Like yesterday, his son had not moved from the bow, his eyes fixed on the sea ahead, as if he could spur the vessel on simply by staring into the distance. Frederic knew they must talk, and breathing deeply, he joined John at the railing. They stood silently for many minutes.

“What are you thinking about?” Frederic asked.

John gritted his teeth. He had no intention of talking with the man. Their camaraderie of the past four months had been a farce. They’d only turned a blind eye to their hatred for each other, but it was there, would always be there. Today, John loathed him more than ever.

“John?” his father pursued.

John dragged his eyes from the cerulean sea and, wearing a twisted, satanic smile, turned on Frederic. “Thinking about? You want to know what I’m thinking about? I’m thinking about my aunt and uncle, and how it took them nearly a year to poison and kill Colette. And I’m thinking about her husband, who stole her from his son, loved her so dearly he set her up for a love affair, and then punished her for being unfaithful, yet didn’t suspect a thing.” John shook his head in revulsion. “Your own daughter sensed what was taking place.”

Seeing Frederic’s surprise, John pressed on, all the more disgusted. “That’s right. Yvette told me her mother always seemed worse after her visits with the good doctor. She was so suspicious she even took to spying on him and Agatha. But her father—my father— no, he didn’t suspect a thing—had no idea anything was amiss. Or did you? Was that how you punished her, Father? By offering her up to the executioner?”

The heated remarks, raised to near shouting, had caught the ears of the crew, and they began milling nearby, pretending not to listen.

“Is that what you think happened?” Frederic queried plaintively.

“Not what I think—what I know!”

“John, I had no idea—”

“Shut your goddamn mouth! There will never be an end to your evil! I blame Agatha and Blackford, yes. But I blame you more!”

His agony increasing, unbearable now, Frederic exploded. As John turned away, he grabbed his shirt and threw him back into the railing. John gaped at him, unable to react. “Let’s get one thing straight,” Frederic growled, “Colette was my wife. Accuse me of turning a blind eye to what was happening, but you were just as blind! Where were your eyes when Pierre was snatched from the house? I’ll tell you where: on that damn horse of yours!”

“I should kill you for that!” John snarled, fists at the ready.

Frederic stepped forward, his face inches from his son’s. “I’m sick and tired of your self-pity—your vicious ridicule— your tantrums!”

John laughed diabolically. “Tantrums? Ridicule? Self-pity?

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