“Well … let us think through the various particulars.” They would go, it was clear to her that they would; but in his current state, Vincent needed help trusting his own instincts. “You left your family to pursue your art and are not bound by any code to assist with the resolution of the will. In fact, given that your father tried to have you executed, can you truly be considered a son?”
Vincent waved his hand, shaking his head. “I am certain that my father would have made arrangements so that we were, at worst, shipped to Australia. No doubt he would have brought us back after a few years, once he thought we had learned not to cross him.”
“How can you possibly think so?”
“He would never dispose of an instrument. You have no idea the amount of effort he put into shaping me.”
“First of all, your father might have arranged to have your sentence commuted, but not for any of the others on trial, and perhaps not for me.”
Vincent tilted his head to the side. She could imagine the wince upon his face. “Likely you are correct.”
“Second … trying to remake you according to his own principles is utterly selfish. If he had rescued you from execution and exile, it would have been for his sake, not yours.” Jane inhaled and held her breath, trying to cool her sudden anger. Every time she considered what that man had done to his son, she became enraged anew. But that would not help her husband sort through the question before him. She let her breath out in a slow stream. “On the other hand, if we set aside your father from our deliberations, your eldest brother’s death should surely be mourned, and Richard’s infirmity should be pitied. It does seem as though there is a motive for us to go.”
Vincent turned. “You would go with me?”
“Vincent.” Jane took his hand in hers. “Given all that we are discussing, I would not feel safe or right letting you go alone.”
“So you think we should go?”
“I do not relish the prospect, no.” The way his thoughts kept offering reasons to go and none to refuse the request told Jane all that she needed to know. It would be difficult but would perhaps at least provide him a means of closing certain chapters in his life. She suspected that if he did not see his father’s grave, he would spend his life wondering when the man might appear again. “But it will do us no harm. Going to the West Indies will not put you in contact with any of your living family, as they are all in England. If nothing else, I have not been to the West Indies, and it will be instructive.”
Vincent rubbed his face, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. Jane let him think and waited until he finally nodded. He lowered his hands and reached for hers. Lifting one of them to his lips, he kissed it gently. “Thank God for you, Muse. I should be lost without you. I do not wish to go, either, but think we must.”
Jane squeezed his hand in return. If Vincent was to go to the West Indies as Lord Verbury’s son, then he would need to be a Hamilton again, at least for a short time. That meant observing mourning. She knew how to do that, and she thanked the stars that they need only observe the forms. Nothing could induce her to truly mourn the death of Vincent’s father.
Three
Travels and Travails
Vincent’s brother, newly made The Right Honourable Earl of Verbury, had been as good as his word. When they called at the office of Lord Flower-Horne, they discovered not only that arrangements had been made for an ample travel allowance, but also that Lord Flower-Horne had already secured passage for them with the Falmouth Packet Service, which regularly sent the mail via packet ships to Jamaica. The vessel would make a stop at Antigua on the way and could drop them off en route.
Though Jane regretted leaving her family, in particular her sister and new nephew, she could not think of allowing Vincent to go by himself. No amount of hysterics on the part of her mother could sway Jane from her intentions.
Even the thought of the trip had been enough to renew Vincent’s nightmares. In the three weeks it took to travel across the continent to the English Channel, dreams woke him no fewer than four nights, and he showed signs of disturbed slumber on other nights.
More than once, Jane woke to find Vincent weaving glamour in the bedchamber of whatever inn they had stopped in for the night. She did not alert him to the fact that she was awake for fear that he would take to late-night walks to avoid disturbing her. She had reservations about the trip herself, given how their last voyage had gone, but took comfort from the knowledge that those particular circumstances would not repeat.