by Lauren Smith
“Is it always like that?” She wasn’t sure Phillip felt the same way, but she wanted to ask, even if the answer might not be what she hoped for.
He cocked his head to one side. “Like what?”
She curled her arms around his neck. “Like there was no end or beginning to us. That in that moment we were more one being than two.” She laughed at her own overly romantic thoughts. “It doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“It does,” he insisted. “And no, that doesn’t always happen. In fact, it is quite rare.”
“Have you ever experienced it with other ladies?” She didn’t want to believe he had been with others, but she wasn’t a fool. Only she had been a virgin this morning.
“I haven’t. I have not been with a large number of women, but enough to know that what we shared this morning was special.”
“So you felt it as well?”
“I did,” he admitted. But the joy she’d expected to accompany such an admission wasn’t there. She saw instead only sorrow. Apprehension dug its claws into her.
“You don’t wish to feel this way, do you?” She slid off his lap and retrieved her shawl from behind the dressing screen. She wrapped the warm wool around her shoulders and tried to fight the chill creeping in from outside and also from within her own heart.
“It is a bit more complicated than that, Ella. I’m a broken man. Men like me do not have happy marriages or happy lives. I cannot be the man to fulfill your desires as a husband.”
She turned to face him. “Because of your leg? I thought you knew that I find no issue with it.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand. You don’t have to live with the pain, Ella. It keeps me from living the life that once brought me joy. I find nothing beautiful, nothing valuable now in my existence.”
“Nothing?” That one word wounded her like no other.
“Except you, of course,” he amended. “But you do not want a life with me. Not as I am. You cannot imagine”
“Stop!” She spoke harshly, her own tone surprising her. “Please, stop. If you wish to drown in self-pity, that is entirely up to you. But do not presume to speak for me while doing it.”
Phillip stood and retrieved his cane. “I think I should give you some time to collect yourself.”
“That is the first sensible thing you’ve said.” She turned her back on him.
She couldn’t let him see how much he had hurt her. Their joyful lovemaking this morning had meant nothing to him? This morning she’d experienced the purest form of physical love for him, and he had even admitted that he shared the same feelings. But then he’d cast those feelings aside because he was afraid and selfish. Loving someone meant loving all of them, even the darkest parts, but Phillip could not love himself. If a person could not love himself, how could he love others?
The door closed, and only after a moment did she look to see if she was alone. Her throat was thick with sorrow. She swallowed painfully and moved behind the changing screen to wash her face and put on a fresh chemise. Her hands shook as she tried to think. She could not continue to travel with him to Lord Pembroke’s estate. He would not come to the ball—she was certain of that. He would find some excuse to turn back. She had one thing left to try. If he wanted her, wanted what lay between them, he would have to come after her. All this time, she had fought for her love for him. If he wanted her, he would have to do the same in return. Ella tried not to think about what it would mean if he didn’t. She tensed when the door opened again.
“Lady Ella?” Cora’s voice drifted into the room.
“Oh, Cora, good. I’m glad you’re here. I need to dress. Then I need you to go down and ask the innkeeper where I might hire a coach, if the roads are passable.”
“Yes, my lady.” Cora came over to her valise and sorted through the gowns inside the case. “What about this one? The taffeta day dress?” She held up an orange taffeta gown with slightly puffed demi-gigot sleeves that tapered to close-fitted wrists. It was a more modern dress than she was used to wearing, but she liked having a gown now and then that set her apart from the other ladies.
It was a lovely gown with triangular Vandyke points on the cuffs and a full skirt. Blue silk Vandyke patterns overlaid the orange skirts on the hem. She loved that gown and had imagined wearing it in front of Phillip, imagining how his eyes might light up. The bright colors of the gown mocked the pale, colorless feeling inside her, but she merely nodded at the maid, who helped her dress. Cora combed her hair back in swift, sure strokes, but Ella asked her not to pull it up.
“Leave it down, except the top.”
Cora pulled back the top half of her hair and secured it with a large blue silk bow. The rest of her hair fell in loose gold curls around her shoulders.
“Let me go inquire as to the coach.” Cora left her alone, and Ella packed the remainder of her clothes while she awaited the maid’s return.
“There was one coach left to let. It’s forty pence to reach Lord Pembroke’s estate. I’ve secured it for you.”
Ella thanked the maid with a sad smile and lifted her valise and started for the door.
“My lady,” Cora said, holding her in her tracks. “If I may speak?”
“Yes?”
“You made him happy, miss. I cannot speak to why you’re leaving now, or why he isn’t going with you, but you should know, you changed him.” The maid’s eyes grew a little bright.
“Thank you, Cora. I only wish I had been able to change him more. It’s up to him now. If he wishes to have a good and happy life again and to be with me, he must fight for it. He must put aside his fears and his pain and come after me.”
Cora was quiet a long moment. “I think you’re very wise, my lady. I do hope he’s worthy of you.”
“I know he is, but the question is, does he?” She thanked the maid again and gave her a quick hug.
Ella walked downstairs and past Phillip, who sat at a table with Marcus.
“Ella? Wait, where are you going?” He followed her to the door of the inn.
“Phillip, we’ve had a wonderful time. I learned much from your lessons, and I am grateful for all that you’ve shown me. Truly. But it is best if I go on alone. I’ve hired a coach, and the roads are now passable.”
“Ella…” He whispered her name brokenly, and the sound carved an abyss within her heart, filling it with unspeakable pain.
“Phillip, I have loved you with all that I am, with every breath in me since I was fifteen. I never stopped. But I must move on. I have to let go of that, of you. You don’t want me. I never expected you to. Hoped, yes, but I’m not so silly now as I was at fifteen. You have chosen pain over joy. You are right. I cannot love a man who does that, and I deserve happiness, even if that means learning to live without you.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath and blinked back tears.
Phillip reached up to cup her face, his blue eyes full of storm clouds. He didn’t speak. He lowered his head, giving her time to pull away, but she couldn’t resist one last taste of him, even as tears streamed down her cheeks. It was a featherlight kiss, containing the ghost of the passion they had shared hours ago. It was a kiss of goodbye, a kiss of regrets and bittersweet apologies. When they broke apart, she hoped he would say something to change her mind.
Fight for me, damn you. Realize that you have worth, Phillip.
“You deserve a hero, Ella. A man who can fight the world for you, a man who will never disappoint you with his failings. I pray you find him.” His hoarse words only doubled the pain inside her chest.
“I found you. I never needed a hero. I only needed you, Phillip, failings and all. You know where to find me, if you choose to fight for what we have. I’ll carry the hope in my heart that you love me enough to realize that you’re the strongest man I know. You have nothing left to fear in life if you only choose to love.” She brushed the hair out of his eyes one last time and then left for the waiting coach. The driver took her valise, and she climbed into the coach.
It to
ok every bit of her will not to turn and look back. The coach rolled away from the quaint little inn, and she broke down as despair carried away the shattered pieces of her heart. She had but one glimmer of hope to cling to, that he would finally see himself as she saw him—a man of strength, a man worthy of love—and at long last, he would let go of his pain and choose happiness.
11
The roads proved to be quite passable as sunlight melted much of the last evening’s snowfall. Ella leaned against the side of the coach, watching sunlight glint off the snow like diamonds scattered on the surface of a white sheet. The rocking rhythm of the coach and the thudding sounds of the hooves lulled her into a numb state somewhere between wakefulness and slumber. She tried not to let her mind drift back to this morning, but it seemed determined to replay flashes of their lovemaking.
The way Phillip’s eyes lit up between slow kisses, how it felt to thread her fingers through his hair, the sighs he made as they embraced after coming apart. The way it felt to have his fingertips brush against her cheek. Even the way he spoke her name as she walked away. She would remember every little thing, the bursts of light and heat, and the cold sting of her breaking heart. Perhaps in time the memories would fade, but she doubted it. If only he was brave enough to come after her, to fight for her. Clinging to that hope was all she had left.
Ella placed a hand over her lower belly, wondering if life had been created in that moment of love between them. She hadn’t thought of it, nor he, at the time. What would she tell her family if she was with child? They wouldn’t force her into exile or disown her, she knew, but Charles and Graham would want to know who the father was. She wouldn’t dare tell them. It would break Graham’s heart. Charles might well challenge Phillip to a duel.
After everything that had happened in the last year, it wouldn’t be fair, not to anyone. She would have to hold firm and not tell anyone about Phillip if she was indeed in the family way. There was a chance he would claim the child as his, but she would not make a demand of it. If he wished to continue living in his tortured world, she would not put a child through that. Her babe would know only love and happiness.
The thought of a new life inside her, the future fluttering of a butterfly within her, made her smile sadly. She would give this child all the love in her heart that Phillip had rejected.
By the time the coach arrived at Lord Pembroke’s estate at midday, she had dried her eyes and painted a cheery smile upon her lips. She was shown into the grand home and was informed that the ladies were taking tea in the morning room. She let a footman carry her valise away and take her cloak before she walked into the morning room. It was full of women chatting excitedly. The clink of china cups and saucers accompanied the light gossip. But a hush fell in the room as the fifteen or so ladies noticed her.
“Ella! You’ve arrived safely!” Audrey leapt up and rushed over to embrace her and whispered, “Where’s Lord Kent?”
“Not with me,” Ella replied. “How could you abandon me like that?” she admonished Audrey in a harsh whisper.
“We didn’t”
“You promised no matchmaking.”
“I wasn’t! You and Kent were already matched.” Audrey’s serious tone surprised Ella. “You only needed a bit of prodding.”
Ella closed her eyes, trying to banish the hurt that Audrey’s “prodding” had caused.
“What happened?” Audrey move them out into the corridor.
Ella bit her lip and fought off fresh tears. “I made a mistake, Audrey. I…Phillip and I…were together for a short time, and it was everything I had hoped. But he won’t let go of his pain. I told him how much I love him and that if he loves me, it is his turn to fight for me. And I left him.”
“Oh dear.” Audrey put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze.
“What’s the matter?” Graham stood not a dozen feet away, watching them with concern. She hadn’t seen him in the hall.
Audrey hesitated to answer, and Ella wiped her eyes.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
Graham’s eyes narrowed as he joined them.
“Let me talk with her,” Graham told Audrey. “Alone.” There was no way to stop her brother when he chose to interfere.
“I’m fine, Audrey. I’ll join you in a minute.”
Once Audrey had left, Graham lifted her chin, searching her face.
“I know I’ve been a rather absent brother, even more so than Charles.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I regret that more than anything. Tell me, Ella. What’s wrong? Let me help.”
Ella gripped his wrist, squeezing it gently.
“My heart is broken. I’m not sure you could do much to fix it.”
His face paled. “What? When?”
Ella chuckled, but the sound was so full of sorrow it almost turned into a sob.
“Who is it? Who didn’t want you?” he demanded. “I’ll call him out.”
“No, you won’t.” She straightened her shoulders. “Because I stood up for myself and told the gentleman that if he loved me, he would come after me. I’m strong enough to live without him in my life. I’ve faced hardships before, and I can do so again.”
Graham cupped her chin and stared down at her in understanding. “You certainly have. Mother always thinks you’re fragile, but I’ve known differently for a long time.”
“You have?” She raised her brows in surprise.
Her brother chuckled. “I saw you and MacTavish dancing with the swords on the floor one afternoon. I almost rushed in to stop you, but then I saw you dancing, the way your face lit up and how quick your feet moved and how MacTavish was clapping in delight. I realized then that you’d grown up on me somehow, and you didn’t need an older brother’s overprotective actions ruining your dance lesson because you were perfectly fine and healthy.” He chucked her under the chin as though she were a child again.
“I doubt you’ll ever surrender your need to protect me.” She couldn’t resist teasing him.
“Of course not, but I’m more than aware that you are your own woman in charge of your own destiny, and you’re strong. Any man you love will have the good sense to come after you. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t deserve you.”
Ella managed a smile. “On this we agree.” But she secretly wished that Phillip would prove her heart right, that he was the man destined for her and worthy of her love.
“So, shall we sit somewhere and talk?”
“No, we’re going to have a lovely Christmastime here with our friends, and you will dance with me tonight. It’s Christmas, after all, and I won’t let anything ruin it.”
Graham studied her a moment longer. “I’m proud of you, Ella.”
Ella didn’t miss the honesty in her brother’s tone. “Thank you, Graham.” She hugged him. “What do you say we go play billiards? I’ve gotten quite good at it, you know.”
“Have you?” He laughed. “Billiards it is.” He slipped her arm in his, and they headed toward the games room. She wanted new memories, happy ones to overshadow her heartbreak, and she knew Graham would not let her down, not this time.
From the moment Phillip let Ella walk away, he felt lost, more broken than he had ever been. It almost crippled him. He stumbled out into the snow, Marcus calling after him, but he didn’t look back. He wandered into the woods, his thoughts slicing through his skull with pain. He stumbled and fell, his cane sinking deep into the snow. Rather than standing, he curled up, his hands resting on his knees, and wept like a child. He was blinded by pain, so much pain, and none of it was in his leg. It came from his heart.
It was Cora who finally found him. She stumbled into view, bundled up in a heavy woolen cloak. She knelt down by his side. She didn’t speak; she simply curled her arms around him, holding him. This simple kindness from the maid calmed him, and he controlled his grief enough to speak.
“Why did I let her go?” he asked, his voice scraping against gravel in his throat. Ella had made everything feel possible in his life again, but
he’d been so afraid to trust that feeling that instead he’d let her walk away.
“Because you love her,” Cora replied. She let go of him. “But if you loved her more, you would go after her.”
He shook his head, denying the idea. “I’m not…good enough for her. I’m broken.”
Cora stared at him, no deference in her gaze. “My father lost his leg in Waterloo. When he returned home, he thought he was broken too. He couldn’t walk without help. But my mother reminded him that pain is not weakness. Pain is the body’s way of defying weakness. Every day you push harder because of it. Miss Humphrey understands that. She loves you. She sees no broken man, and neither do I.”
“You truly believe that?” He was a little surprised by her candid honesty, but he was grateful for it all the same.
“I do. But you won’t find her wallowing in the woods. Come on, up with you.” She gripped one of his arms and helped him to his feet. Marcus met them back at the village, his visible anxiety lifting as soon as he saw them.
“You’re right—I have to go after her and win her back. Prove that I’m a man worthy of her love.” He felt it now, that strength filling him again as he saw clearly what he needed and wanted to do more than anything else: find Ella and tell her all that lay in his heart.
“My lord, the men of the village requested you to help find the Yule log. I wasn’t sure if we were to stay or…pursue the lady.”
Beyond Marcus a group of a dozen men, presumably town leaders and businessmen, stood waiting and watching hopefully.
“You have time,” Cora whispered before she stepped away and let him stand on his own. He kept a careful grip on the cane that Cora had retrieved and nodded.
“Very well, then. Gentlemen, show me the way.”
He spent the next two hours in the woods on the hill by the old Norman church, watching the sun set beneath the Gothic structure before a suitable log was found. He spent the entire time on his feet, relying less on his cane that he’d expected, and he was damned proud of that fact. He hadn’t moved this much in months, and he’d forgotten how good it felt.
