Born Wicked

Page 67

Sachi is whispering with Rose Collier behind her pink fan, the blue feather in her hair wagging furiously.
Behind her, Maura’s listlessness has disappeared. She grips the pew with both hands, her knuckles white, her blue eyes swallowing her face. As I watch, Tess scoots closer to her. Somehow, in the last day, their roles have reversed; Maura has become fragile and Tess her protector.
Last—horribly—Finn. Brother Belastra, now. Sitting for the first time in the front pew with the others, dressed head-to-toe in black. He’s already committed himself to this path. The shop is shuttered—I saw the sign on the door when our carriage drove past. He swipes a hand through his unkempt hair, his rich chocolate eyes stunned. This is not what he expected me to say.
Unconsciously, I finger the welt on my cheek. Finn’s face darkens, and he reaches reflexively toward his boot. I give a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of my head. What could he do? Nothing.
There’s nothing anyone can do. I chose this.
“Catherine Cahill, the blessings of the Brotherhood are upon you. You may go in peace to serve the Lord,” Brother Ishida says.
I bow my head. “Thanks be.”
The rest of the congregation echoes me.
Our neighbors rise and stretch. Some of them head in my direction—Finn included—but Elena beats him to it. She tugs me down the side aisle, separating me from the curious onlookers in their Sunday finery.
“Time to go, Cate. The carriage is waiting.” She smiles, her perfect white teeth flashing, as though she’s sending me off on a delightful picnic and not a prison sentence of her making.
Finn is at my elbow. “Could I have five minutes? To say good-bye?” I ask. I hate myself for the longing evident in my voice.
“I don’t think that’s wise, do you? Why prolong the inevitable?”
I won’t beg. I won’t give her the satisfaction. “May I go home to gather some of my things, at least?”
“Your sisters and I can take care of that for you. We’ll send them soon. Come, Cate. No stalling,” she says, leading the way down the aisle.
Finn puts his hand on my arm, his warm fingers encircling my wrist. He’d pull me through the crowd and away from all of this if I’d let him.
But I can’t let him. I can’t even look at him or I’ll cry. I stare at the cinnamon freckles dotting the back of his hand. “Good-bye,” I say to the wooden floor. I reach into my pocket and pull out Marianne’s ruby ring. My engagement ring. I can’t keep it; it wouldn’t be fair; he should be free to give it to someone else, though the thought of it makes me want to die. I press it into his hand and close his fist around it.
“Cate,” he says, and the desperation in his voice nearly undoes me. “Why?”
“Come along,” Elena says.
Maura runs up, pushing her way through the crowd. “Let me go instead. Please, Cate, don’t leave me here with her.”
There’s so much I want to say—to Finn, to my sisters. But not like this. Not with Elena and Mrs. Corbett listening, weighing my words, looking for raw places to strike.
“You’ll have Tess. Look after each other,” I manage. I find Tess’s gray eyes, and a bit of understanding passes between us. She gives me a nod solemn as a promise.
I go. I walk down the aisle and out the wide door and down the cobblestone path lined with dying white chrysanthemums. I feel as though I’m being dragged to my own funeral with my mourners behind me. My smile warps, but I keep my chin up.
I climb into a closed black brougham adorned with the Sisters’ gold seal. Mrs. Corbett squeezes in beside me. She’s to chaperone my journey to New London. To see to it I don’t change my mind and run off, more like. She raps on the door and the coachman jolts us forward. We’re on our way.
“You did the right thing, Cate,” she says. “You’ll come to see that eventually.”
But I see it already. To protect the people I love, I’d do it all over again.
I only hope I can live with the consequences.