by Bree Wolf
“Perhaps they were delayed,” Lord Tynham suggested, and yet, the look in his eyes told Garrett that he doubted his own words.
From what Garrett had been able to gather since his arrival in town, his wife was a well-known member of English society. There were few who did not know her or know of her, and he had been able to learn a great deal about her love for dancing and mingling, her desire for adventure and unconventionality. Indeed, what he had learnt through discreet and well-placed questions had only confirmed Garrett’s own impression of the wayward Lass he had stumbled upon one night almost six months ago in Gretna Green.
“Perhaps you should seek out her brother,” Lord Tynham suggested, “and ask about her.”
Garrett sighed, “But he isna here either, is he?”
“That, however, is nothing unusual,” Lord Tynham stated. “The man is known for his reticent nature. He and his sister are like night and day. As much as she longs for company, he seems to prefer to keep to his own.”
Garrett nodded, his gaze still searching.
“Have you considered making the journey to Farnworth Manor?” Lord Tynham suggested next. “Perhaps the family has decided to skip town this season as they prefer to stay in the country.”
Garrett snorted, “I doubt she would’ve agreed to such a plan,” he said. “In any case, I did stop there before coming to London, but I was told the family wasna home.”
Lord Tynham frowned. “Over the holidays? That is quite unusual.”
Garrett nodded. It had struck him as odd as well. Still, short of breaking into the house and searching the premises for his wife, there had been very little he could have done. Instead, he had gone to London hoping to meet her here once the season began.
Now, that notion seemed to be a futile hope.
All he had found in London were whispers.
Rumours circulated about her eloping to Gretna Green with a man named William Montgomery, second son to the Earl of Mowbrey. Still, unlike Garrett’s wife, Mr. Montgomery had not failed to attend the first ball of the season−nor the ones following−and he had been decidedly unattached.
In fact, another rumour whispered of his upcoming nuptials to a duke’s daughter. Nothing was certain as of yet. However, that was how people preferred it as it gave them the opportunity to create their own versions of the truth.
When Garrett had first heard the rumour about his wife and Mr. Montgomery, he had been overcome with red-hot jealously, imagining his wife in that man’s arms. However, as time had passed, it had become clear that the whispers that saw them as young lovebirds were made of nothing but stale air.
Inhaling a deep breath, Garrett allowed his gaze to momentarily follow Mr. Montgomery as the man swept across the dance floor with a blond-haired beauty in his arms. His fiancée? Garrett did not know, but he knew that tongues were wagging without doubt.
Still, if his wife had been with Mr. Montgomery, at least that would have presented an explanation with regard to her whereabouts. At present, it seemed as though she had dropped off the face of the earth. What had happened?
Garrett was at a loss.
The following morning when he had returned to their room at the inn, his wife had been gone. No note. No explanation. Nothing. Only the innkeeper had informed him upon questioning that a young man−presumably English−had come to take her away. Apparently, she had yelled at him quite a bit, calling him the most awful brother in all of England.
Although disappointed, Garrett had been relieved to know that she was with her family and, therefore, safe. As much as he had wanted to follow her right away, his duty to his clan had prevented him from doing so.
So, reluctantly, he and the two clansmen who had accompanied him had returned to their laird, bringing with them the runaway couple they had been after. The lass had been a MacDrummond while the lad had been from a neighbouring clan. While that alone would have been far from an easy situation, the fact that the lass had been promised to another had complicated matters further.
As he was well acquainted with the promised lad’s family, there had been no way for Garrett to delay returning home. The ensuing talks had taken weeks before all had been resolved, and the two lovebirds had been allowed to wed. For them, everything had ended well.
Garrett sighed as he continued to search the crowd, always hoping that the next face he’d see would be hers. Would he ever find her? How hard could it be to find an English lass? And one as spirited and striking as his wife?
A part of him could not help but worry that she had changed her mind. That she had come to regret their hasty decision. That she did not care for him after all. And yet, Garrett could not pretend that nothing had happened. If she wished to be rid of him, she would have to tell him so to his face.
In all his life, Garrett had never done anything so rash, but she had caught him off guard and swept him off his feet. There had been something about her that had touched his soul and stirred his blood. Even after all these months apart, he still longed for her, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that even though they barely knew each other, she was the one for him.
Setting his jaw, Garrett vowed that he would find her no matter what or how long it would take. He would find her, and then he would never let her go again.
Chapter Two – A Moment in Time
Three months later
Crestwood House was utterly silent, except for the tormented grunts and cries from the labouring woman in the large bed.
“You’re doing fine, sweetheart,” her mother whispered soothingly as she brushed a wet cloth over Claudia’s forehead. “Everything shall be all right. Do not worry.”
Sinking back into the pillows, Claudia closed her eyes, desperate to rest at least for a short moment before the next contraction would grip her body and turn it inside out once more. Her breath came in short pants and sweat ran down her temple before her mother could wipe it away.
Again, silence fell over the house−if only for a fleeting moment−and Claudia felt reminded of the past three months she had spent in this tomb far away from everything she held dear.
Far out in the country, Crestwood House was a small manor house with nothing around it as far as the eye could see. There were no small villages or even an occasional neighbour. Nothing.
Only silence.
In order to keep her condition a secret, her brother had insisted she−and her mother−retreat to this place in the middle of nowhere until the child was born. Therefore, the staff had been reduced to an utter minimum, leaving them with only a trusted maid, a cook and someone to tend to the general upkeep of the house. They worked like ghosts, never quite there, doing their chores without being seen.
The silence had nearly driven Claudia mad.
For months, she had wandered the halls, the grounds, any place her feet would carry her with a heavy heart. Certainly, her mother had been there, constantly trying to cheer her up, to distract her, to keep her mind focused on all kinds of trivial things. Still, all her efforts had not been able to lift the fear and dread from Claudia’s heart.
While her rational mind had concluded that there was no way she could keep her child, her heart refused to abandon hope so easily. Again, and again, Claudia whispered to herself in the dark of night that she was doing the right thing. That her child would grow up in a loving family, safe and sound. It would want for nothing. Her brother had promised to make sure of that, and he never broke his word.
And yet, the ache never left her.
In her dreams, Claudia often saw her son’s smiling face as she rocked him in her arms until his eyes closed and he fell asleep. She could smell his hair and feel the soft smoothness of his skin. She saw the brilliant blue of his eyes and felt the quiet strength in the way he held on to her finger. These dreams brought her peace, at least for a short while; for upon waking, all the pain and dread would return, threatening to crush her.
Then she would curl into a ball, arms wrapped tightly around her rounded belly, and weep into her pillo
ws until the sun rose the next day.
Once a month, her brother and his new wife, Evelyn, would come to visit, which was a welcome diversion from the dreariness of everyday life. Evelyn was a strong and competent woman, a doctor in her own right, who had come to Farnworth Manor to see to Claudia when she had collapsed after an argument with her brother.
Claudia liked to think that if she had not made the mistake of following William to Scotland, if she had not stayed behind and slept with a stranger, if she had not gotten with child, then Evelyn would not have come to Farnworth Manor…and her brother would have missed out on the love of his life. Sometimes fate worked in unusual ways, and sometimes Claudia wondered why everything had happened the way it had. What would come of it? It had led to something wonderful for her brother while at the same time guiding her down a path full of heartbreak. Was this it?
Ever since Evelyn had joined their family, thawing Richard’s heart, Claudia and her brother had been much closer. Although she still could not understand the way his mind worked, the way he saw the world, she could see now how hard he tried to be a good brother, how much he wanted to protect her, how much he loved her.
All of them had come closer as a family.
If only she could keep her son.
Why, Claudia could not say, but in her heart she always pictured a little boy, and she had to force herself to ignore the names that rose in her mind. No, she would not name him. She would not be his mother, and so she would not name him. If she chose his name, would she be able to say goodbye?
Her days were filled with dread as she awaited the day that life would rip them apart and send them down different paths.
And now that day had come.
Another contraction gripped Claudia and the pain held her in its iron fist. And yet, it was not her body that suffered the most, but her heart, for she knew that each contraction brought her closer to the moment she would have to give up her child. Do not look at him! Something deep inside her whispered. Not even for a moment. Do not look at him!
When the contraction released her, Claudia sank back into the pillows, her mind closed to everything around her. She barely heard her mother’s voice or noticed the doctor−whoever he was−tend to her. Was it day or night? She could not tell. All her heart had to cling to were the last final moments with her son. Still, there was no joy in it, no happiness.
Only dread.
And sorrow.
And then something changed.
The next contraction had Claudia reaching for her knees as instinct took over. Bearing down, she gritted her teeth, trying with all her strength to bring her son into the world.
This was it. The moment she had been dreading for months was upon her.
Tears streamed down Claudia’s face as she forced herself to close off her heart. She pinched her eyes shut, feeling the pain tear through her, and then…he was gone.
Panting, Claudia lay back, exhausted in every way. A new emptiness filled her heart as she kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Do not look at him!
For a moment, silence fell over the room before soft wails echoed to Claudia’s ears. “It’s a boy,” the doctor exclaimed, lifting up the child.
Claudia pressed her lips together tightly against the quiver in her jaw, her hands curling into the mattress, holding on as though for dear life.
“Would you like to hold him?” the doctor asked, immediately stepping forward, holding the child up for her to see.
In that moment, two instincts collided. Self-preservation urged her to turn her head, to close her eyes, to not see while her mother’s heart pushed her to look upon her child, to hold him, to nurse him.
“Mary, will you take him?” Claudia’s mother said beside her, her voice filled with sorrow and regret, but also with understanding as her hand continued to hold her daughter’s. “You know what to do.”
With her gaze still fixed onto the ceiling, Claudia heard the maid’s quiet footsteps approach. She heard the soft rustling of clothes as the doctor lay the child into her arms. She heard Mary’s gentle voice as she whispered to the softly-wailing child.
In a moment, he would be gone. Mary would take him away, and he would be given to a good family. Claudia would never see him again, but he would be safe. She was doing the right thing. Do not look at him!
And then her head moved, and before Claudia knew what was happening, her eyes came to rest on her son’s little face.
He was perfect.
Heartbreakingly perfect.
His small round face was scrunched up in complaint as he waved his little fists. His mouth stood slightly open while his eyes were pinched shut. His skin shone warm and soft as the early morning sun reached in through the windows and touched him. For a split second, he opened his eyes as though looking for her, and Claudia could see that they shone in the same brilliant blue she had seen in her dreams.
And then Mary turned and walked away.
He was gone.
Only his soft wails still echoed to her ears, and Claudia turned away, burying her head in the pillows as her heart broke into a thousand pieces.
Aiden!
As her mind screamed his name, loud sobs tore from her throat, and she knew in that moment that she would forever grieve his loss. That her heart would never recover from this. That she would never feel whole again.
Aiden!
***
A fortnight later, Claudia found herself arriving in London.
Seated in their carriage, she glanced at the vibrant city, the Season in full swing and everyone noteworthy in town. Her eyes slid over the familiar streets and townhouses as they drew closer to their own, promising a moment of rest after this arduous journey.
Aware of her mother’s watchful eyes, Claudia schooled her features into an expression of mild interest and excitement. “It is truly wonderful to see other people again,” she remarked, her hands tense as they dug almost painfully into the strap of her reticule. “Not to insult your company, Mother, but I’m utterly relieved to be returned to civilisation.” A short chuckle escaped her throat as though she were truly amused.
“I still do not approve,” her mother objected, shaking her head as her hawk-like eyes continued to drill a hole into Claudia’s head as though she could unearth the truth if she only stared at her long enough. “You’ve only just given birth,” she whispered, her eyes darting sideways as though she feared to be overheard. “You need rest.”
Claudia swallowed, willing the ache in her heart to subside. However, it would not. “I’m not the kind of woman who enjoys solitude,” she said, forcing the corners of her mouth to remain up. “To be shut away in the country while all of London is full of excitement is torture. Quite frankly, I was and am bored out of my mind. But no longer!”
“But−”
“I’ve lost more than enough time this year,” Claudia interrupted, knowing that if she allowed her mother to speak, her kind words would eventually break her, turning her into a sobbing mess. “Half the Season is over, and I have yet to find any amusement. I want to shop and dance and−”
The carriage pulled to a halt, and Claudia’s eyes went to the tall, elegant townhouse where she had spent many happy moments. Would she ever be happy here again? Here or anywhere else?
As tears began to prick the back of her eyes, Claudia blinked her lids rapidly a few times before quickly stepping from the carriage. Movement helped, Claudia had come to realise. As long as she kept moving, as long as her mind was occupied, the pain was manageable. What she needed was a diversion…preferably for the rest of her life!
And so, Claudia had come to London, hoping to escape the pain she had waded through at Crestwood House. Every day after the loss of her son, she had spent crying, close to succumbing to despair. Never had she been the mothering type, and yet, this was her son. It felt as though a part of herself was missing. A part she would never get back.
Certain that she would lose her mind or die of a broken heart, Claudia had then decided to leave every
thing behind and return to the life she had had before.
The moment they stepped across the threshold, Claudia found her brother Richard and his new wife hastening toward them. Greetings and hugs were exchanged, and they soon found themselves seated in the drawing room, a cup of tea in their hands.
“I would never have expected to see you so soon,” her brother observed, his voice collected, almost cold. His eyes, however, searched hers with an almost desperate need to know that she was all right.
Once more willing the corners of her mouth up, Claudia smiled at him. “I’m fine,” she said, probably for the thousandth time since voicing her decision to return to town. “You know who I am. I was not made to be on my own. I need company.”
Holding her gaze, her brother nodded. His eyes softened, and the expression on his face seemed less tense.
Claudia breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that he believed her, reassured by her usual frankness and forthright manner. His wife, on the other hand, was a different matter.
As a doctor, Evelyn had a sixth sense for the truth, her keen eyes now gliding over Claudia in frank perusal and judging from the expression of concern that still showed on her face, she was all but convinced. And yet, she did not say a word.
Not now.
Not with Claudia’s mother and brother present.
But she would.
Later.
After tea, they rose to retire to their rooms for a short respite before supper. Claudia was relieved to be able to escape her family’s watchful eyes for a short while as their constant concern was exhausting. She smiled at her brother and Evelyn as she turned to the door, and it was then that, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a small, seemingly insignificant gesture that almost crushed her heart on the spot.
Speaking to her husband, Evelyn had absentmindedly brushed her hand over her midsection. It had been only a moment. Fleeting at best. And yet, it was something utterly familiar to Claudia.
To any woman who had carried a child.
