William Monk 11 - Slaves of Obsession

“Judith, even if Mr. Monk were to succeed, and bring her back, willingly or unwillingly, he is a man, and traveling with him would compromise her so she would be effectively ruined in England. If you—”
    “I have thought of that.” She put her hand over his, curling her fingers to tighten the pressure very slightly. “Mr. Monk has a brave and most unusual wife. We have already met her and heard something of her experience on the battlefields of the Crimea. She could not lack the courage, the spirit or the practical ability to go to America with him and help him persuade Merrit to return. Once Merrit knows what Breeland is, she will need all the help we can give her.”
    Casbolt closed his eyes, the muscles clenched in his jaw, a nerve jumping on his temple. When he spoke his voice was only just audible.
    “And what if she already knows, Judith? Have you thought of that? What if she loves Breeland enough to forgive him? It is possible to love enough to forgive anything.”
    She stared at him, her eyes wide.
    “Do you want her brought home even then?” he asked. “Believe me, if I could find any way not to have to say this to you, and still care for you, be honest to your happiness, I would. But Merrit may not be as free to return to England as you think.”
    Her lips trembled for a moment, but she did not look away from him. “If she had any willing part in her father’sdeath, however indirectly, then she must come back here and answer for it. Loving Breeland, or believing in the Union cause, is no excuse.” She turned again to Monk but she did not move from Casbolt’s side or release herself from his arm. “I will pay passage for you and your wife to America, and all expenses while you are there, and whatever your charge is for your time and your skill, if you will do all within your power to bring my daughter back. If you are able to arrest Lyman Breeland as well, and bring him to stand trial for the murder of my husband and the two men who died with him, then so much the better. Justice requires that, but I am not seeking vengeance. I want my daughter safe, and free of Breeland.”
    “And if she does not wish to come?” he asked.
    Her voice was low and soft. “Bring her anyway. I do not believe that when she realizes the full truth she will wish to remain with him. I know her better sometimes than she knows herself. I carried her in my own body and gave birth to her. I have watched her and loved her since she first drew breath. She is full of passions and dreams, undisciplined, too quick to judge, and sometimes very foolish. But she is not dishonorable. She is looking for a dream to follow, to give herself to … but this is not it. Please, Mr. Monk, bring her back.”
    “And if she answers to the law, Mrs. Alberton?” he asked. He had to know.
    “I do not believe she is guilty of any evil, only perhaps of stupidity and momentary selfishness,” she answered. “But if she is guilty of those, then she must answer. There is no happiness in running away.”
    “Judith, you don’t know what you are saying!” Casbolt protested. “Let Monk go after Breeland, by all means. The man should swing on the end of a rope! But not Merrit! Once she is here, you cannot protect her from whatever the law may do. Please … reconsider what it may mean for her.”
    “You speak as if you think her guilty,” she returned, hurt now and angry with him.
    “No!” He shook his head, denying it. “No, of course not. But the law is not always fair, or right. Think of what she might suffer, before you do anything so hasty.”
    She looked at Monk, her eyes wide, pleading.
    “I shall ask my wife,” he replied. “If she is willing, we will go and see if we can find Merrit. And if we can, we shall learn the truth from her of what happened and how much she knew. Will you trust me to make my own decision as to whether she would be best served by coming home or remaining in America, with Breeland or alone?”
    “She cannot do either!” she said desperately, her voice at last beginning to crack. “She is sixteen! What can she do alone? Finish up in the streets! She went with Breeland, unmarried to him.” Her hand tightened on Casbolt’s, still holding her. “What decent man would care for her? Breeland is at best a murderer, at worst … a kidnapper as well. Bring her back, Mr. Monk. Or … or, if she is guilty … take her to Ireland … somewhere where she is not known, and I will go and join her