Loving Rose: The Redemption of Malcolm Sinclair (Casebook of Barnaby Adair) Read Free

hand?”
    It was tempting to lie, but he owed Roland the truth. “No. I never killed anyone directly, but I did cause them to be killed.”
    Brow furrowed, Roland cast him a sidelong glance. “You ordered others to kill them?”
    It would, Thomas reflected, have been easier to lie. Resting the back of his head against the wall, he said, “No, but the orders I gave caused them to be killed.” Having gone that far and sensing Roland’s utter confusion, he felt compelled to explain, “It wasn’t straightforward. I wanted something—several somethings over the years—and so I ordered others to arrange it, to get those things for me. I never knew about the deaths until the end, but had I thought things through . . . but I didn’t, you see? I never thought about others at all—that was my failing. I operated as if my actions had no impact on anyone else, but I was entirely wrong, and they did. And when I eventually realized that, I put a stop to it.”
    Another pause ensued while Roland digested that. Then he said, “Thomas Glendower isn’t the name you were born with, is it?”
    Thomas nodded. “But the name I was born with died with the man I was—I killed him not only physically but in every other way as well. I made sure reparation was paid on every level.” He paused, inwardly acknowledging how right that decision still felt, then went on, “The man I was is dead, and no good—indeed, much harm to others—would come from resurrecting him. And I’m prepared to swear to that on the priory’s Bible.”
    Roland humphed.
    Thomas simply waited, with a patience the last months had taught him, to learn what his fate would be now that he’d admitted to the crimes of his past.
    Eventually, his gaze, like Thomas’s, on the garden, Roland shifted, leaning his forearms on his thighs and clasping his hands between his knees. “There were times, especially during the first days you were here, when I didn’t expect you to live. I had to break bones and wrench tendons to reset your joints—I had to dose you against infection, I had to sedate you against the pain. I had to straighten your spine and hope I didn’t kill you in the process. You were unconscious throughout—I couldn’t tell if you wished to live or die. So I held aloof. I didn’t pray for your death, yet neither did I pray for you to live.”
    Hands gripping tightly, Roland continued, “Prior Geoffrey had a different view. He saw your survival as likely, even assured, because, in his eyes, the fact that you had been delivered into my hands, especially in the state you were in, was a sign of divine intervention.”
    Thomas blinked. “That can’t be right.”
    Roland snorted. “After what you’ve just told me, I can see why you might think so, but . . . I’ve known Geoffrey for years. He was my mentor when I was a novice. He is unbelievably shrewd and farsighted, especially when it comes to his fellow men and their foibles.” Roland paused, then said, “I’m coming around to his way of thinking.”
    “What?” Startled, Thomas let his cynicism show. “That because of my attempt to pay for my sins, the Good Lord has forgiven me?”
    Roland chuckled, dryly, wryly. Turning his head, he met Thomas’s gaze. “No, not that. Geoffrey believes you’ve been spared for a reason. For a purpose. He believes Our Lord has some task in mind for you—something only you can do, and you’ve been spared so that you can do it.”
    Thomas saw the solidifying certainty in Roland’s eyes.
    As if to confirm Thomas’s insight, Roland nodded. “And after what you’ve just told me, I’m even more inclined to agree with Geoffrey. No matter what you might think, Our Lord is not finished with you.”
    Thomas didn’t know what to make of that. He was tempted to point out that he wasn’t religious, that he wasn’t even certain he believed in any deity. In Fate, perhaps, but in God? He couldn’t claim any conviction.
    But sitting in the sunshine, meeting