Rushing into Thomas' cottage, I closed the door behind me, fingers shaking as I turned the key to lock it.
I had managed to escape from Jack's intent stare when he reached down to retrieve his mother's blanket after it had slipped off her legs. The task of covering her lap and tucking the sides under her legs preoccupied him long enough for me to excuse myself from the group, get lost in another group, then duck behind one of the other cottages, safely making my way to Thomas'.
"Matilda!" Nicholas exclaimed as I entered, rushing to me. "What on earth is going on? Rose told us you wanted us in the cottage right away, but she couldn't tell us why."
"There's a man," I said, a little out of breath. "Mrs. Bradshaw's son. "He was... asking questions..."
"Come sit down. Take a deep breath, darling." Taking my arm, he led me over to the dining chair where I sat.
"He said he recognised me from somewhere. Which was strange, because I thought I'd recognised him from somewhere, too."
"From where?"
"I don't know, but he wouldn't let it go. He was asking questions, like my last name, where I was from, how long I was staying in Launceston for."
"It sounds like he was just being polite, darling."
"That's what I thought at first, but it felt more like he was prying information out of me. And he kept staring at me in a really creepy way. He commented on my eyes. I mentioned I had a husband and then he insisted on meeting you to see if he recognised you, too."
"Well, what did he look like?"
"Dark hair, brown eyes, short beard like yours, fifty-ish."
"You don't think..."
"What?"
"Our mystery stalker."
"You think Mrs. Bradshaw's son is our mystery stalker?"
"I don't know, Matilda. You just described someone who sounds exactly like him."
"I've just described someone who sounds exactly like millions of people in the world. I mean, what would be the odds that this guy is our mystery stalker?"
"Well, there's only one way to find out. I need to see his face." He started for the door and I jumped from my seat, reaching out to grab his arm.
"Are you crazy? He'll see you!"
He spun to face me. "So what do we bloody do now, then?"
"He said he was leaving soon. He wanted to get a few hours of travel in before it got dark. We hide in here, and once he's left town, we won't have to worry about him."
He thought for a moment, then said, "But what if he does know it's you? What if he's gone to get Doyle?"
I sighed, looked over at Thomas who was sitting on the edge of his bed watching us, then back at Nicholas. "I think it's time for me to go home."
"Matilda, no-"
"Hear me out. If you take me back to the cottage, I... disappear... you go into town, act like you've never left. Doyle can do another search of the cottage if he wants, but he won't find me. Your father will be safe and sound here, and we can all continue on with our lives and no one will end up hurt because of me."
He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm not ready to let you go," he breathed into my ear.
"I'm not ready to let you go either, but we both know me being here couldn't last forever. This is what I have to do to keep you both safe."
I felt him nod and pull away slightly, turning to his father.
"Father, I'm sorry our time spent together has to be cut short."
Thomas dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand. "The length of time isn't important, son. I will be forever grateful we had a second chance."
"Maybe you could come back?" I suggested to Nicholas. "Once things have settled down."
"It's too risky. Doyle still believes I helped you escape from the holding cell. He won't let that go any time soon. He'll be on my back for a long while yet."
"This is all my fault," I said, burying my head into his shoulder.
"No, my darling, don't ever think that." He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me tighter. I was succeeding in fighting back tears until I heard him mutter a sentence I wasn't yet ready to hear. "We'll leave Launceston the day after tomorrow."
* * *
Later that night, Nicholas readjusted his position on the hard dining chair he had shifted beside his father's bed after a game of chess. Thomas was feeling tired after their game, and wanted to relocate to his bed, but insisted on not going to sleep yet.
They had been talking for hours, and during that time, Matilda had curled up on one of the armchairs with a book.
"You've been perched on that uncomfortable chair all afternoon, son. I won't mind if you preferred to sit over there on the armchair with Matilda," his father said to him, noticing his discomfort.
Nicholas glanced over at her. She was curled up, Teddy asleep in the crook of her arm, book forgotten in her lap, her mouth slightly ajar. He couldn't help but smile. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful. "She's asleep, anyway. Besides, I'm fine here talking to you," he said, turning back to Thomas.
"Go with her."
"What?"
"Wherever she's running to, you can go with her. Why not? I don't understand why you two have to separate."
"I would if I could, believe me. But I can't go where she's going."
"Why the hell not?"
"I just can't. I need to stay and face Doyle, anyway."
"I'm glad I raised an honest son, Nicholas, but I say to hell with Doyle. Neither you nor Matilda have broken the law. This is all just some vendetta he has against you two. I don't see any other town Constable's harassing you, do you?"
"No, but he's dangerous. The whole reason you faked your death was because you thought he was going to kill you."
"Yes, but he had a good reason to want to kill me. Listen, I've seen you two together. I've seen the way you look at her. You love her, don't you?"
Nicholas glanced over at Matilda once more. "Yes. So much it hurts."
"And she loves you?"
He turned back to his father and shrugged. "I don't know."
"You don't know? She never said it back?"
"Well, I haven't actually told her how I feel."
"Nicholas, Nicholas. No wonder she's running off without you. You need to tell her how you feel."
"I can't."
"Pfft. You can't go where she's going and you can't tell her you love her? I may have raised an honest son, but I also raised a stupid one."
"Thanks," Nicholas said sarcastically.
"Fight for her the way I fought for your mother. You won't regret it."
"Thanks for the advice on love, Cupid, but our relationship is a lot more complicated."
Thomas sighed. "Son, I've been meaning to give you something, and now seems like the perfect time. Before we reunited, I had planned on sending it to Henry and have him give it to you, but I'm so glad I now have the opportunity to give it to you in person. I can die a happy man knowing it's safe in your possession." Nicholas watched with curiosity as Thomas reached over into his side table drawer and pulled out a velvet ring box. "Here. It's yours now."
Nicholas gingerly took the small box from him and opened it, instantly recognising the familiar silver ring with a cluster of seven diamonds forming a daisy.
"Mother's engagement ring."
"I've had it on me for fifteen years. I couldn't leave it behind. I needed something of hers to remind me of her, to comfort me. I had that ring made especially for her when I was twenty. Cost me every last penny I had saved. She wore it every day from the moment she said yes to my proposal, until the day she..." He swallowed hard.
"Died," Nicholas said, almost a whisper.
"It was her most treasured possession."
"Are you sure you want me to have this? You can hold onto it a little longer..."
Thomas shook his head. "I want you to give it to someone who will treasure it as much as she did. Whether that be Matilda or someone else... It's up to you. But promise me, son. Promise me you'll give it to someone. Someone you love as much as I loved your mother. No more going through life alone, do you hear me?"
Nicholas nodded and smiled at his father. "I promise."