Tears streamed down her face, wetting the pillow and shining in her eyes. “I don’t remember much else. I dropped to the ground in the corridor. I heard Agnes scream his name, then mine. My hair must have caught fire because the skin on my face and neck began to burn with a heat so intense that blackness soon engulfed me, and I welcomed it.” Again, she met his eyes, willing him to hear her words and understand them for what they were, the naked truth. The ugly truth was that life could be painful, and that sometimes one simply didn’t have the strength to handle it.

  Frederick swallowed as her words coursed through his veins. “Did your brother live?” he asked, remembering the little boy that had accompanied his family to his sister’s wedding.

  A deep smile illuminated her face. “He did.”

  “What is his name?”

  “Stephen,” his wife whispered. “His name is Stephen.”

  “Does he bear any scars?” he asked, his eyes travelling over her beautiful face. For the first time, he saw her scars as a part of who she was. He understood them to be a part of her. Without them, she would not be the woman she was today. The fire had scarred her soul as well as her body, and in that moment, Frederick wished that he, too, had been marked more visibly.

  “No,” his wife said. “He has no scars. The skin on his leg was irritated for a few days, but it healed nicely.”

  “You saved his life,” Frederick said as his gaze met hers. Despite an underlying fear that threatened to consume him, he withdrew the veil that usually clouded his eyes and let her see the guilt that still lived in his heart. Although he admired the strength she had conjured in reliving her own painful past, he wanted her to understand that her story was different from his own, that her scars were not the same as his, that his guilt was justified. After all, Kenneth was dead. She had saved her brother, but he had failed his friend.

  Her eyes searched his for a long time, and Frederick could see the understanding of his message on her face. Like no one else, she understood him despite the few words he spoke.

  “Yes, I saved his life,” she agreed, and her gaze held his as though by a magnetic pull. “I saved his life…because I could.” The soft blue of her sapphire eyes hardened. “I was there when it happened. I could reach him in time, and the danger that threatened him was within my power to ward off.”

  Transfixed, Frederick stared at her as the simple truth washed over him.

  “Could you have stopped the canon ball?” she asked, her tone filled with challenge. “Could you have caught him as he fell?”

  Frederick swallowed. “I should have.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Could you have?”

  Drawing a deep breath, Frederick shook his head. “It is not as simple as that. I should−”

  “Could you have?” she repeated. Lifting her head off the pillow, she stared at him, her gaze holding him immobile. “Could you have?”

  Again, Frederick swallowed. “No,” he forced out through gritted teeth as a new sense of failure came over him. All his life, he had protected those he loved. His ability to watch over them had made him feel strong, powerful, in control. Now, it lay shattered at his feet. If he could not protect the people he loved, what value did he have?

  A soft curl came to her lips as she lay her head back down. “We all feel guilty when a tragedy happens.” The sharp tone vanished from her voice as she spoke. “We all think we should have been able to prevent it. It is not wrong to think that way. It simply means that we care, that we wish we could have done something to prevent it. But the truth is often another. As much as we wish for it to be different, few things are within our reach.”

  Resting his head on the pillow, Frederick stared into the dark. Everything that he had been, everything that he had believed came crashing down around him. First, Kenneth, then his father, and now his brother. They had all died under his watch. It had been his responsibility to protect them, and he had failed miserably. Who would be next? He wondered, and his eyes shifted to the woman beside him.

  Once again, her eyes shone soft and clear in the dim light, searching his face. In them, he could see the deep desire for him to understand, for his heart to understand that he was not at fault, that he ought not to blame himself. And although he wished for nothing more but to set her mind at ease, Frederick knew deep down that the guilt that had followed him home from the continent still lived. Maybe it had retreated into the shadows, lurking and waiting, but it was not gone. One day, it would return and claim his soul for good.

  “Sometimes we have to let go of the things that hold us back, that prevent us from finding happiness,” she whispered, and for a short moment, he could feel the soft warmth of her breath brush over his cheek. “I know that heart and mind are often at war. Only because the mind comes to understand, the heart might still be far from feeling the truth the mind has come to accept. It takes time. Allow yourself that time. Feel the guilt. Do not ignore it for then it only grows stronger. It is your choice. No one else can make it for you.” Her eyes looked deep into his, and Frederick could feel their touch as though her hand had reached across the pillows. “Do you want to live? Not just exist, but live?”

  A small spark of hope, of desire soared into life, warming his heart and melting the ice that had settled upon it long ago. And yet, a shadow lurked in the depth of his being, and it spoke only of the betrayal he had committed. “I don’t think I have the right to−”

  Elsbeth shook her head. “You have every right,” she said, and the conviction that rang in her voice warmed his heart even more. Slowly, he felt the shadow retreat. “Do not doubt yourself. If you want to live, live! If not, the pain will never go away. You will become a shadow of yourself, and the life you have will be wasted.” She swallowed then, and a hint of fear shone in her eyes. “Do you want to live…or die?”

  Staring at her, Frederick knew that she was right. He had to make a choice. Only before to-night, he had always thought that he had made that choice long ago. That he was only here to take care of his family and fulfil his duty.

  Now, all of a sudden, a new desire rose in his chest. A desire to live, to feel…to love. His eyes swept over her, seeing the soft curve of her lips and the honest way her eyes looked into his. She bit her lip as though nervous, as though his answer held sway over her heart as well.

  And all of a sudden, Frederick knew what he wanted.

  But could he trust his own desires?

  Would the darkness in his heart allow him to live?

  Did he truly have a choice?

  Or was he just fooling himself?

  Chapter Twenty-Six – A Walk in the Gardens

  Walking the gardens, Ellie hummed under her breath. The sun shone brilliantly, and the few snow-white clouds drifted lazily across the clear blue sky. Birds chirped in the trees and crickets in the high grass, their echoing sounds in harmony with Ellie’s cheerful tune.

  Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Ellie’s mind rejoiced each and every time it drifted to their shared time a few nights ago. Again and again, she relived moment for moment, seeing a new light come to Frederick’s eyes and hearing true emotions ring in his voice. Never had she imagined that her husband would talk to her the way he had: openly, honestly, without holding anything back. He had confided in her about his greatest fears and darkest thoughts.

  And he had listened.

  From the stillness of his body as he had lain beside her, Ellie knew that he had listened intently, absorbing each word that had left her lips. Although she could not be certain that her advice would help him out of the abyss his friend’s death had plunged him into, Ellie thought that the honesty with which he had answered her questions−despite the mortification plainly visible on his face−spoke of a great desire to find what he had lost. She knew he felt guilty about his friend’s death. She knew that he thought he had no right to live, to be happy for his friend would never have the chance to be. Kenneth’s life had ended, and nothing could bring him back. Even if Frederick lived his li
fe in sorrow or ended it for good, it would not change the fact that his friend was dead. Nothing he did would change that.

  Ellie only hoped that deep down Frederick had finally come to understand that, and that it would help him accept that he could not spend his life mourning the dead. Remember, yes. But not mourn, not the way Frederick did.

  “There you are,” trilled a voice from behind her, and Ellie spun around.

  Beholding her friend’s face, Ellie rushed toward her, a deep smile curling up her lips. “Madeline,” she called, embracing her friend. “I am so glad to see you!”

  “As am I, dear Elsbeth.” As she stepped back, Madeline’s sharp eyes slid over Ellie’s face in a way that brought a blush to her cheeks. “I see that married life agrees with you,” her friend commented. Then she took Ellie’s hand and pulled her over to a shady spot under a tall oak tree. “You look radiant. Am I right to assume that your husband has finally come to understand how fortunate he is to call you his wife?”

  Sitting down on the stone bench by the water fountain, Ellie could not help the smile that lifted up the corners of her mouth. “I am not certain,” she admitted. “However, I am hoping that he will one day.”

  Madeline’s eyes narrowed. “I have to say that you do not look hopeful at all. You, my dear Elsbeth, look like a cat who is not hoping to catch a mouse but has done so already.”

  Ellie laughed. “Do you think of me that way? That I trapped him into this marriage?” If anyone else had said what Madeline had just admitted to, Ellie would have been hurt.

  Shaking her head, Madeline chuckled. “Well, if anyone trapped him, then I suppose it was your mother. At least, she keeps telling everyone who comes within earshot of the wonderful match she so selflessly procured for her daughter. According to her, she was the one who inspired him to ask for your hand despite your tainted beauty.” Shaking her head, Ellie stared at her friend. What was her mother thinking? “I assure you I simply meant to point out that the smile on your face and the glow in your eyes speak of a woman very much in love.”

  As inexplicable joy coursed through her veins, Ellie met her friend’s eyes. “Oh, I am, Madeline. I really am. I just don’t know how he feels about me.”

  Madeline’s eyes narrowed in thought, and she put a finger to her lips. “I wish I could stay for supper. Quite frankly, no one reads people better than me. I suppose I could find out if he truly loved you.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, knowing that her friend tended to overestimate her own abilities in this regard. While Madeline definitely had a way with people, more specifically with men, she often misread their true intentions or maybe she simply saw what she wanted to see. “But there is no need. He will come to it in his own time.”

  “As you wish,” Madeline relented before she lifted her head and almost craned her neck, looking past Ellie’s shoulder.

  “What is it?”

  “I thought I saw something?”

  “Something?”

  A wicked grin came to Madeline’s lips. “Well, someone.”

  As Ellie turned around, she was surprised to see her husband walking around the long hedge that shielded the small oasis by the water fountain from the rest of the gardens. By his side, she found Oliver Cornell.

  For a moment, Frederick looked uncomfortable as he beheld them. Then, however, he ex-changed a few quick words with his friend, and they came walking toward them.

  Rising to their feet, the two women glanced at each other, each brushing down their dresses.

  “Who is he?” Madeline asked, her gaze resting on Frederick’s friend, and Ellie detected a curious twinkle in her friend’s eyes.

  Ellie smiled. “That is Oliver Cornell, a friend of Frederick’s.”

  Madeline’s eyebrows rose into arches. “You mean the Earl of Cullingwood?”

  “I suppose so.”

  A satisfied grin spread over Madeline’s face.

  Ellie laughed, “You cannot be serious?”

  “He is an earl, is he not?” Clearing her throat, Madeline put on her most dazzling smile as the two men approached.

  Offering a quick bow, Frederick greeted her and Madeline and then introduced his friend. All the while, his eyes rested on her as though she were the only one there. Ellie felt her heart thudding in her chest, its echo pulsing through her veins.

  “It seems I was not the only one who deemed this day a good day to call on a friend,” Oliver chuckled, a friendly smile on his face.

  Glancing at Ellie, Madeline quickly turned her attention back to the earl within her reach. “You are certainly right, my lord. It is a beautiful day, and I did not mind the time in the carriage at all. I had the windows open the whole journey here. The air is wonderful, is it not? So fresh and invigorating.”

  Ellie had to suppress a chuckle at Madeline’s efforts to beguile her husband’s friend. She quickly averted her eyes lest she laugh out loud.

  “It is beautiful indeed,” Frederick agreed. His gaze, however, rested on Ellie, and an excited tingle went over her as his eyes held hers. Was he talking about her? Did he think she was beautiful? Oh, if she only knew!

  All too soon, the two men excused themselves. Clearly disappointed, Madeline did her utmost to continue their conversation; however, Oliver was adamant. Maybe he had something important to discuss with her husband, Ellie thought, and with a sad eye, she watched Frederick walk away. Before he was lost from sight though, his eyes returned to her, and instantly, Ellie’s heart jumped into her throat. For a second, she thought she would faint.

  “What could they possibly have to discuss that we shouldn’t hear?” Madeline complained. Sinking back onto the bench, she crossed her arms. “I think they were very rude to leave us here.”

  Catching her breath, Ellie sat down by her friend. “Do not pout, Madeline. There are more earls in the world than just this one.”

  A wicked smile lit up Madeline’s face as she turned to Ellie. “You see right through me, do you not?”

  “Like a piece of glass.”

  Looking at each other, they both broke out laughing.

  “I’ve missed you,” Madeline admitted. “I’ve missed us.”

  “Me, too.”

  “To tell you the truth, I might not ever forgive your husband for taking you away from me.” Feigning outrage, Madeline lifted her chin. “It was in very poor taste. Very poor taste, indeed.”

  “I am surprised you even noticed my absence,” Ellie stated, still feeling the excitement of her chance meeting with her husband pulsing through her veins, “with all the husband-hunting to keep you busy.”

  Madeline’s mouth dropped open. “I resent that, my dear Elsbeth. I do not hunt. I am not the moth, but the flame. I cannot help that they feel drawn to me.”

  Ellie laughed, and Madeline’s features softened. “Will you be back in Town next season?”

  “I don’t know,” Ellie admitted. “At the moment, I am not sure of anything.”

  Giving Ellie’s hand a gentle squeeze, Madeline met her eyes, a warm smile on her face. “But I am,” she all but whispered. “He cares for you deeply.”

  At her friend’s words, Ellie’s heart stopped, and yet, she didn’t dare hope.

  “He does,” Madeline insisted. “Whether he knows it or not, he does. Do not allow him to persuade you of the opposite. Seize the day, and win his heart.” A hint of wickedness returned to her curved lips. “Men are often lost when it comes to matters of the heart, and, therefore, I whole-heartedly believe that it ought to be women who make the proposal, not men.” She chuckled. “They still have so much to learn.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Ellie whispered, pulling her friend into her arms. For a moment, she closed her eyes, enjoying the soft breeze on her skin and the warmth that engulfed her heart.

  Today was indeed a beautiful day.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven – A Day for Visiting

  Returning to his study in the late afternoon, Frederick offered Oliver a drink. All day long, his friend had seemed
determined to speak to him, and yet, he had not said a word that would have justified his keen observation of Frederick’s person. “May I be frank?” he asked, handing Oliver the glass.

  “Certainly.” Sinking into the large armchair, Oliver took a sip, his eyes watching Frederick with open curiosity.

  “Why have you come?”

  Oliver snorted, “Do you want me to go?”

  “I did not say that,” Frederick corrected his friend. “I merely asked why you came. I sense that there is something on your mind. However, so far we have talked of mere trifles. All I ask is that you say what you came here to say.”

  Nodding, Oliver set down his glass. “Your eyes did not deceive you. However, the reason I came here was not only because I wished to speak with you about something, but also to see how you were.”

  Frederick shrugged, and a small stab of pain coursed through his shoulder.

  “There!” Oliver exclaimed, finger pointing at Frederick. “That is exactly why I came!”

  Confused, Frederick stared at his friend. “Because I injured my shoulder? Because I was thrown off a horse?” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not understand.”