An Impossible Choice (All Things Possible Book 1)

by Kate Rolin

  There was nothing to do in the tiny room but to sit on the small bed. A cot, really. Hugging his pillow to herself, she breathed in the familiar scent of him, sparking her tears.

  Once they began, they refused to stop. And so, on his patchwork quilt, Argel mourned—her parents, her past, even her uncle and the man she had believed him to be.

  How long she laid there, Argel couldn’t say. She didn’t move until she eventually realized that the sun was beginning to dip low in the sky. Still sniffing, she sat up and wiped at her tears. Surely her face was a swollen and blotchy mess. Wynny would certainly give her that questioning look of hers when she saw her.

  Slowly, Argel stood up. She still needed to stop by the Hughes’s house if she was to see Wynny again as promised before making her way back to the hotel. She had asked Titus to reserve a room there for her as well. She had no desire to stay alone in this house with all its memories.

  Argel opened the front door and stepped outside, deciding to return tomorrow to sort through items she wished to take back with her to Burchwell Hall—for she was going back there, with her husband.

  Making her way into the village, Argel slowed her steps as she took in appreciative views of her surroundings. This place truly was beautiful to her—at last. She somehow knew it would always be a part of her, a home.

  The bleating of sheep in the distance soothed the turbulence of her heart somewhat, until she almost felt nearly as calm as the gently flowing Colwyn.

  Almost.

  Feeling rather reflective, Argel passed on by the Hughes’s residence despite her promise. She could visit Wynny tomorrow. For now, she just wanted her own bed in the hotel. She wanted to be alone.

  Crossing the stone bridge, Argel was so lost in thought it took a moment for the shouts to register in her mind.

  “Argel! Argel!”

  Looking up, she saw someone in the distance waving his arms.

  “Cefin!” she beamed, returning the wave.

  The boy came running up to her. “Argel, you’re really back!” He panted for breath before throwing his arms around her waist.

  Argel ruffled his hair. “Cefin, you’ve grown so—and in only two months! Just look how tall you are!”

  The boy stood back, grinning proudly to reveal a newly missing tooth.

  Argel gasped in mock surprise, “Another tooth gone? My, my. At this rate, we’ll soon only be able to give you milk!”

  Cefin laughed, “Oh, Argel, I’ve missed you!”

  “And I, you. Any new pets to tell me about?”

  “Lots! Come and I’ll show you,” he said, tugging on Argel’s hand.

  She laughed, “Maybe tomorrow, Cefin. I only arrived today and I’m afraid I am quite exhausted. I need to go rest now.”

  “Alright,” Cefin looked down at his feet, disappointed. “Tomorrow, then.” He toed the ground with his shoe before looking back up. “I knew you were coming today, you know.”

  Argel grinned, “Did you now? How on earth would you know such a thing?”

  “Because that man arrived early this morning. When I didn’t see you too, I knew you’d not be far behind.”

  Argel’s heart stilled. “Man? What man?” Was he speaking of Titus or…

  “The one you left with. You know, the devil.” He winked with his toothless grin. “I told Da you’d be close by since…”

  Argel looked up distractedly in disbelief. Whatever Cefin was saying now was lost on her. Could it be possible it was to be this simple? Damon here, already?

  Looking up to the heavens, Argel whispered a prayer of thanks as Cefin prattled on before finally interrupting him with another ruffle of his hair. “Thank you, Cefin. I’m afraid I really must go. I shall see you tomorrow!”

  “Alright, Argel. Hwyl fawr,” he waved, unperturbed.

  Argel turned, retracing her steps over the bridge, but unsure as to where she should go. Where could she find Damon? If he had visited Sygun today, would he already be back at the hotel? Had he got word of their arrival? Seen Titus and fled?

  A strong breeze picked up then, coming out of nowhere, stealing her shaw and carrying it down Church Street. Argel chased after it and then stopped, just as suddenly as the wind stilled.

  At the end of the road sat her beloved St. Mary’s. Her intuition, for that’s what she had decided it was, told her that he was there, inside.

  As she bent to retrieve her shawl, Argel knew in her heart that it had been a sign for her. Straightening, she brushed her skirts and began making her way to the church, her heart racing with anticipation—and love.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Damon sat alone in the silence. He had chosen the same pew where he’d found Argel praying so long ago. He had thought if he came here, perhaps he would feel closer to her somehow—and he did, but also more distressed.

  How many weeks had it been since he left Argel? Two? Three?

  Not left, he amended, but, rather, let her go. He’d not cared to keep count, though he knew it had felt more like years—years since he had seen her sweet face, heard her easy laugh, felt her soft touch…

  And he craved it. He craved it all.

  Heaven help him, he was in torment.

  He had given up on his planned business trip after his first stop in Cheltenham. He’d terribly botched a meeting, unable to think of anything but Argel. And so, he came directly to where he believed he would feel her presence most—without her actually being present.

  “You want me to let go? To relinquish control,” Damon gruffed aloud as he looked up at the beamed ceiling. “Well, I have. I’ve given up the most precious thing that I have ever had—because I love her, Lord…I love her." Looking back down, Damon closed his eyes. “Only please, please,” he accentuated his words with a fist on the back of the wooden pew in front of him, “let her still be there when I return. Let her choose me. Please, please…”

  Overcome with grief and exhaustion, Damon hung his head in his hands. He wanted to weep, but no tears remained. Instead, he continued muttering his plea.

  Whether seconds had passed or minutes or more, he finally roused himself back to the present. He knew it was getting late and he really should get back to the hotel, for he’d instructed his meal to be brought up to his room. There was no possible way that he could eat in the restaurant where Argel had once worked—he knew setting foot in the place where he had first heard her sing would be too much.

  Taking a deep breath, Damon slowly rose from his seat, but his feet refused to budge. He simply stood staring straight ahead to the front of the sanctuary, his shoulders slumped. He realized then that he’d simply lost his will…to do anything.

  “A demon in a church? My, my. Apparently, they will let just about anyone in here.”

  Damon straightened his broad shoulders at the voice and then froze, the familiarity of the voice registering in his mind. He’d not heard anyone enter behind him.

  He was afraid to turn around, afraid to find it was just a figment of his imagination. Afraid to find himself still truly alone. For her to be here was…impossible.

  “I seem to find myself in a bit of a quandary, but perhaps you could help me.”

  Damon closed his eyes against the soft voice as he heard light footsteps approaching nearer.

  “You see,” the voice continued, “I told someone something recently, shall we say my husband for argument’s sake? And it seems he doesn’t believe me. He says I need time to decide for myself how I feel about the matter. Not only a few days, mind you, but three entire months.” The voice laughed softly, even closer behind him now, causing his pulse to race.

  “Now, I ask you, who would know better how I feel than, well, me? I have insisted, I’ve pleaded, why, I even attempted to follow after him—which was no easy task considering he refused to tell me his whereabouts.

  “I’ve traveled for days on end in a carriage with a dreamy-eyed friend, a rather grumpy man in spectacles, and countless strangers—all
on a wild goose chase to find this elusive husband of mine. And all to tell him one thing.”

  The speaker paused, and Damon knew she stood just to his right. He could feel the warmth from her even through that old black cloak of his. Eyes still closed, he clenched his jaw against the urge to turn to her, to take her in his arms—he’d made a promise to himself, to them both.

  “And do you wonder what that one thing would be?” The voice was quiet as Damon felt a warm hand touch his arm.

  That single touch was his undoing. His eyes shot open as he sharply turned to face the speaker.

  There Argel stood, right before his very eyes. She had left the door open and the setting sun cast a warm glow about her, confirming his belief that she was, indeed, an angel.

  “I would say,” she smiled up at Damon when he didn’t answer, “that I. Choose. You.”

  Damon thought his heart would fail him. How he longed for those words to be true! “Argel,” his voice was hoarse with strain, but it didn’t matter. Argel wouldn’t let him finish.

  “I love you, Damon Westmoreland, husband of mine. I wanted you from the day you first swooped down upon this poor village, and I loved you from the moment you first offered me a choice. I don’t know any other way to say it. I made my choice and I don’t regret it.”

  Her words caused Damon’s veins to hum. Was it possible? But it was too soon. It was all too— “But,” he began—cut short again as she held up a hand to silence him.

  “I know, I know—you think you forced my hand. And so, in your honor, you admirably left me to decide what I wanted. Well, my dear, I’ve had enough time alone these last several days and I can tell you, I don’t need three entire months to know that I love you—irrevocably. And,” Damon felt her warm fingers on his lips then, preventing him from interrupting—and it worked; he instantly stilled at her touch. “I must admit to eavesdropping on your heavenly dialogue just now. I believe your own quandary is already solved. You did let me go, you did give up control. Now let me make my choice of my own free will. Let me love you, Damon.”

  He didn’t dare breathe as her words registered in his mind. Was...was it possible? Could it truly be that simple?

  Damon stood looking down into Argel’s warm brown eyes, daring to hope. She had traveled to the ends of the earth, with Pendenny, no less. All to tell him she loved him. Irrevocably.

  It was as if the scales suddenly fell from his eyes then and he could finally see the truth right before him: She was offering her heart to him completely, of her own free will—the one thing he’d never been given fully by anyone else before.

  The one thing he could never take.

  He already knew, deep down, that he was a fool for leaving her in the first place. He’d be an even bigger fool now not to accept her offer, the very answer to his prayer.

  Slowly, one side of his mouth pulled up into a grin. Whether he was simply at a loss for words, or he’d suddenly been struck mute, Damon found he couldn’t speak. Instead, he familiarly grasped her wrist as her fingers still rested against his lips and he turned it slowly, placing his lips there instead. Hearing Argel’s soft exhale, he realized she had been holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

  The scent of her skin was intoxicating. If it were not for the intensity of it, he would believe himself to be dreaming. But no, this was real flesh against his own. Her flesh.

  Relishing her softness under the hard press of his lips, Damon began trailing small kisses from her wrist, up her arm, to her short white sleeve. Without pausing, he picked up with his small kisses where her pulse visibly ticked in her neck, not stopping until he reached her lips.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Argel lifted her lashes as Damon pulled away and looked up to find hope and love clearly mirrored in his bloodshot eyes, bordered by dark circles underneath. Oh, Damon. What turmoil he must have endured these past weeks.

  At least there was no shutting her off to his emotions this time.

  Grateful tears welled in her own eyes, spilling over. Clinging to him, she rested her head against his solid chest, his rapid heartbeat sounding beneath her ear speaking a vow of its own.

  They remained there for quite some time, his arms firmly about her, neither speaking a word. All Argel had cared about was finding Damon, convincing him of her feelings. Now that they were here, she was afraid to let go, afraid it would all be a dream.

  As the sun dipped lower, his chest rumbled in her ear as he finally spoke. “I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d never given you a fair chance, a true choice. I hope you—”

  “I do,” Argel cut in, nodding against him. “Forgive you, understand you, love you…but,” she tipped her head back to look up at him and smirked, “never leave me ever again.” She poked a stiff finger firmly against his chest to emphasize her point.

  “Never again.”

  Those two deeply spoken words made Argel feel at peace at last.

  Gently, Damon lifted one hand, caressing Argel’s cheek with the back of his fingers. His action melted her heart and she closed her eyes, leaning towards his touch. “What do you say,” he continued, “to starting over?”

  Argel’s eyes fluttered open. “What do you mean?”

  She watched his face turn serious as he stepped back from her and extended his hand. “Damon Westmoreland,” he said formally. “Orphan, businessman, human man,” he winked and Argel laughed as she shook his hand, “and a broken man. I originally came here for revenge, which not only did I not receive, but I also broke my own vow never to lose my heart to a woman ever again. Indeed, I have fallen helplessly…selfishly in love with the niece of the very man I hated most. And, indeed, I love her with abandon.”

  Argel stood speechless, her hand still clasping his own. His words were a balm to her wounded heart.

  “And so,” he knelt down before her, “despite my flaws, despite my mistakes, I ask you, Mary Phillips—my wife, my Argel—stay with me. Abide by my side for the remainder of our days. Be my partner in life, in love—be mine as I am yours. It is your choice.”

  Argel smiled down at Damon, cherishing the earnestness in his face. Stray locks of black hair had fallen down against his skin, his dark brows pulled down into a deep V at her silence. Everything about him touched her heart.

  Gently, she reached up with her thumb to smooth over each line etched in his forehead—the marks of years spent bearing his burdens alone. “Mary Phillips,” she whispered, “but you may call me Argel. I, too, am orphaned and broken, previously tormented by believed demons of my past. But the stranger in Beddgelert—the man who nearly frightened an entire village—offered me a true love, a selfless love. And it is because of his selflessness that I make my choice.

  “I am yours, Damon. Forever and always. We may both be broken, but together we are whole.” Placing hands on either side of his bristled face, Argel leaned in to seal her words with a kiss.

  It was brief. It was chaste. It was perfect.

  As she pulled away, Argel’s heart warmed at the sight of his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled broadly up at her. He appeared to be freed of his burdens at last.

  Damon drew her hands to his lips, placing a kiss on each before rising to stand again. “We should take a real wedding trip. What do you say? Anywhere you want to go—north to Scotland, south to the coast…to Cornwall, perhaps? Or, we could visit the continent…Rome—it doesn’t matter. I only want to be with you.”

  Argel smiled. “A honeymoon sounds divine, though I would prefer not to travel far. There’s no reason to spend so much money visiting places we’ll likely see little of.” She blushed feverishly at Damon’s wicked grin in response. “B-besides,” she hurried on, “I know of a little place in Wales—a village actually. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. It is quiet, unassuming…they do have a hotel, though I happen to know of a small house that now sits empty that could use a few happy memories made there.

  “Other than the occasional visit from a dear friend o
f mine—who may be accompanied by an associate of yours—and from an old widow who likely wishes to see my elusive husband with her own eyes, and though we’d be surrounded by neighbors…we could lock ourselves away from the world. Just you,” she began slowly walking two fingers up his chest, “and me.”

  Without warning, Damon snatched her hand and leaned in close, peering deep into Argel’s eyes, causing her senses to tingle. “On one condition,” he said, his voice dropping low.

  “No interruptions,” they finished in unison.

  “Absolutely none,” Argel smiled.

  “Well, in that case,” Damon lifted Argel up into his arms and bent his head to nuzzle her neck, “it seems we have a honeymoon to begin. Hotel tonight, cottage oasis tomorrow.”

  “Perfect,” Argel grinned as she wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck.

  With his long stride, he carried her from St. Mary’s and made quick work of heading for the hotel. He moved so swiftly, Argel felt as if she was flying.

  Up the road, a familiar figure waved. “Argel! You found him!”

  “Not now, Wynny. Later,” Argel called out.

  “Oh, so romantic,” her friend sighed as they quickly passed by.

  No interruptions.

  “Oh, Argel! Is that really you?”

  “Sorry Mr. Lewis. Tell Cefin I’ll visit him tomorrow,” she waved as Damon’s stride quickened even more.

  They eventually entered the hotel lobby, where a man behind the desk jumped at their quick appearance. “Argel, I heard you had returned! They miss you at the restaurant.”

  “Nice to see you, Mr. Pritchard,” Argel answered distractedly, not taking her eyes off of Damon as he began making his way up the stairs.

  No interruptions.

  Reaching the hall where Argel assumed Damon’s room must be located, she closed her eyes. They were almost there.

  “Westmoreland, I—”

  “Save it, Pendenny,” Damon barked as he sidled them both past their friend.