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As Jackson continued to speak with Christopher about what needed to be done before the funeral, he turned, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man standing in the doorway. It was Sir Thomas, and loud footsteps could be heard running down the hall toward the parlor.
It was Cedric and the constable trying to stop Henry Thomas. He was Lilith's father, and the man was seething with rage. His eyes had the look of a madman. The veins in his forehead were visible, his breathing erratic, and his jaw ticked as he clenched it tight.
"You!!!, You are responsible for this!!! "Sir Thomas growled at Christopher. "You're the man who was supposed to love and keep her safe." His voice broke as he said the words. The Constable and Cedrick were about to enter and apprehend Edward, but they saw Christopher hold up his hand for them not to move. "Don't! Let the man finish what he has to say."
Lilith's father walked forward, and in a split second, Christopher was struck full force by a fist from Henry Thomas. His head was spinning; blood trickled down his mouth. Christopher was stunned by Henry's action. The old man had a solid right cross.
Everyone in the room froze at the scene going on in front of them.
After witnessing the attack on Christopher, Jackson went into combat mode seeing the man strike his suffering friend. Before Sir Thomas could hit The Lord with another blow. Jackson had come up behind the older man, grabbed him by his left upper arm, and used his right hand to grasp the nape of his neck, then took his right leg and swept the man's feet out from underneath him. Slamming him face-first into the wooden floor. Before Sir Thomas could react, Jackson had his foot on the older man's neck. Bending down so the man could hear him clearly, Jackson said through gritted teeth, "I dare you to touch Lord Thorn again. If you do, I will take the claymore in that suit of armor on the wall and cleave your head from your fucking body. Do you understand me, old man?" Jackson then stood and removed his foot from Sir Thomas's neck.
Sir Thomas raised himself from the floor and straightened his clothes, smoothing them with his hands. He removed the corner square from his lapel pocket and wiped the blood dripping from his broken nose. His bloodshot eyes glared at both men. "Hear me, well, Lord Thorn. You will no longer have access to the railways. I will drive you under and take everything from you for what you have done to my precious little girl." Henry spat at him in anger.
"That's okay, but you will only drive yourself out of business and go bankrupt in a year. I will also have to come after you for breach of the current contract, and the amounts you owe me will be well more than what you are worth. I know many others who will be more than willing to make the financial gains you have seen for the past three years. It makes no difference to me. Furthermore, I'm done discussing business at this time. My wife, your daughter, lays dead in front of you, and you are worried about retribution. You need to get your priorities straightened out and comfort your wife and family right now. We can discuss the remainder after Lilith is laid to rest." Christopher clarified calmly to the crazed man standing in front of him.
Sir Thomas stood silent as a man beaten. His wife Lily had reached the parlor. She was still in tears and wanted to see her daughter. "Where's Lilith? She wailed and crumbled into her husband's arms. He walked her over to where their daughter lay. Thomas held her while everyone in the room was silent. They watched Lily stroke her deceased daughter's hair and cry. "Why? Why did this have to happen to you." Lily asked her deceased daughter.
The Lord was filled with remorse over what he had done to Lilith, and he could no longer stand to watch the devastated family mourn. "If you will forgive me, I will take my leave, Sir, so your family can have time to grieve. My staff is at your disposal for anything you need. Please let Duncan, my butler, know." Christopher turned to leave the parlor for the family to mourn, and Jackson followed right behind.
Christopher, along with his friend Jackson, returned to the study. He lit a cigar and offered one to Jackson, who silently refused with a wave of his hand.
"Do you want a scotch?" Christopher asked.
Jackson beamed brightly, raising his eyebrows, "Now, that is an offer I will not refuse."
Both men settled back into the tall black leather chairs. They were slowly sipping on the amber spirit.
"Forgive me for being so forward," said Jackson. "But what happened this evening? I also understand if you don't want to talk about it."
Christopher took another sip of scotch from the cut crystal tumbler in his hand. Furrowing his brow, he looked over at Jackson and replied. " It was a lesson gone wrong." The Lord fell silent and said nothing more, the look on his face conveyed he wasn't willing to speak more on the subject.
With a sympathetic sigh, Jackson said, "Some of the hardest life lessons are the unexpected ones."
"Mhmm... "Christopher hummed and nodded in response to his friend's words.
"What will you do if that bastard Henry Thomas pulls out of the railway contracts?" asked Jackson, consuming more of the scotch from the glass and rolling the tumbler between his hands.
Christopher puffed on his cigar, smoke curled around his lips and he tipped the ash into the ashtray. "He won't. It's just angry words he spoke earlier. Henry has made more money in the past three years than in his entire career. The man knows what side the bread is buttered on; his social standing, money, and pride mean too much to risk losing everything. Sir Thomas also knows I'm serious about litigating the hell out of him if he shuts me out of the railway."
It was late and nearing midnight. Christopher stretched and yawned; Jackson felt like this was a sign to leave so the man could try and rest. Standing from the chair, Jackson questioned, "Is there anything further you need this evening? If not, I'll excuse myself. I need to start the preparations for the Welsh carriage."
"No, I'm going to retire for the night. This estate has a very long three days ahead. Christopher replied with a look of exhaustion etched on his face. "Thank you for everything you did today, my friend."
"It was a pleasure, Milord. I know you would have done the same for me. try to get some rest tonight." Jackson bowed to The Lord as he left the room.
***
Early in the pre-dawn hours, Lord Thorn returned to his room. He undressed and put on a nightshirt. He lay in the dark for a while, trying to calm his mind and sleep, but rest never arrived. Christopher's memory kept repeating what he did that led to the day's events and Lilith's untimely demise. Finally, unable to quiet his senses and slumber, he dressed and walked around the estate.
The air was cool and crisp, with snowfall blanketing the land. He watched the sunrise from the bench in the frozen garden, his mind on the wake and impending funeral. Christopher's stomach rumbled to bring him out of his daze. He wandered back to his room, bathed, and then donned the mourning clothing that Duncan had brought out of storage. It consisted of all black, a set of trousers, a cravat, a vest, and a black overcoat with tails. When he left the house, he would wear a black silk top hat and cuffed leather gloves. The only exception was a white dress shirt.
Being a man, the mourning period for him was different. His time of mourning was three months, and Lord Thorn could still conduct business and attend social events while grieving.
Christopher strolled to the dining room; Lilith's family was already gathered for breakfast. They ate in stillness. He took his seat at the head of the table and greeted the family solemnly. "Good Morning. Sorry, we are gathered this way for the holidays." No one spoke, and he ate with the family in complete silence. The Lord liked it better than a full-out bar brawl like last evening.
The rest of the morning was a blur. Christopher sat in the parlor and oversaw the servants running back and forth throughout the estate, catering to family members and preparing for visitors who would start arriving for the wake over the next few days until the funeral. He looked over with hurt eyes at Lilith lying in the casket surrounded by flowers. Her dress was a pastel pink with tiny rosebuds embroidered on the bodice. If it weren't for the coffin, she would look like a princess under a spell sleeping in a meadow.