by Laura Landon
She looked so pale lying against the white sheets. The large bruise on her cheek had turned darker, and the angry gash on her forehead looked worse each time he saw it. What frightened him most, however, was how fragile she looked. He’d never considered her delicate, but she suddenly seemed frail enough that he feared she might break.
Thomas stepped to the bed. Lady Palmerston rose from the chair she was sitting in beside the bed and indicated for Thomas to sit. He reached for Cleo’s hand and held it.
Her flesh was warm and soft, but spiritless in his grasp.
“Cleo…” Thomas stopped, hearing the fear in his own voice. He swallowed hard and searched his soul for the bravery he knew Cleo would show were she in his place. “Cleo, it’s important that you wake up. We need you to come back to us.”
Of course she didn’t answer. He didn’t expect her to, but he spoke to her in the hope that his voice would break through the foggy haze that held her in its grasp.
“We know now what happened that day in the Park. Daniel Welfore told us everything.” He began to stroke his thumb across the back of her hand as he spoke. “He’s a good man, Cleo. You’ll see. Randolph was blackmailing him. He revealed several details that were quite interesting. If you wake up, I’ll let you know what they are.”
He thought the teasing bribe might work, but he may as well have been speaking to the marble statues in the garden. Thomas gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, but there was no reaction in return.
“Today is a beautiful day. Polly and Millie went for a walk in the garden earlier. As soon as you wake, we’ll walk in the garden, too. We haven’t fed the ducks yet, and one of the groundskeepers tells me there’s a nest with six eggs in it. Perhaps there will be some ducklings soon.”
Thomas rubbed his thumb in small circles over her hand. He hated that all he could talk of with her mother and father in the room were mundane topics that held no significance. They weren’t at all what he wanted to say to her.
He was desperate to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted her to know how frightened he was and how anxious he was for her to open her eyes. He wanted to tell her if she would only come back to them, he would guard her with his life, and never allow anything to hurt her ever again. But he couldn’t say any of those things with her parents still in the room and a nurse standing close by.
After what had seemed only a moment that he’d been with her, Cleo’s father placed his hand on Thomas’s shoulder, indicating that it was time for him to leave. Thomas rose and reluctantly stepped away from the bed.
He wanted to lower his head and kiss Cleo on the cheek. He wanted to tell her again that he loved her.
And he wanted to beg her to open her eyes and wake up, because he couldn’t live his life without her. He wanted to shout at her, to shake her small frame until her eyes opened to him. He wanted to pound his fists on the wall and beg the heavens to intercede, to send a host of angels to sing his love to the very center of her heart.
He loved her that much.
Instead, he walked from the room, a lost and broken man.
Chapter Eleven
Thomas was allowed to look in on Cleo once more later in the day. In the intervening hours he’d prayed harder than he’d prayed for anything in his life. He bargained. He pleaded. He threatened. He begged for a sign. Anything to let him know she would come back from whatever dark place had entrapped her.
There’d been no change.
In the evening, Lord Palmerston voiced concern over his wife’s health. She had scarcely left her daughter’s bedside in three days. He demanded that she retire to her room and rest for a while. After promising that he’d call her if there was any change, she agreed to lie down for a few hours.
Thomas waited until Lord Palmerston was alone with Cleo, then rapped softly and entered the room. “Is there any change?” he asked, praying that there was.
“I thought she moved a moment ago,” he answered, “but I think I must have imagined it. I’ve watched her closely since then and there’s been no movement.”
“I’m sure she’ll wake up soon.” Thomas stood on the opposite side of the bed and focused on Cleo’s peaceful features.
“Would you mind staying with her for a few moments?” Cleo’s father asked. “I want to check on my wife.”
“I’d be glad to.”
Lord Palmerston left the room and Thomas sat in the chair that Cleo’s father had vacated. “Sweetheart?” Thomas reached for Cleo’s limp hand and held it. “Sweetheart?” he repeated. “Can you open your eyes and look at me?”
There was no response, but Thomas didn’t anticipate that there would be. “Your father went to check on your mother. They’re both very worried about you. I’d really like you to wake up so they stop worrying over you.”
He chided himself for actually using guilt to motivate her to waken. Thomas rubbed his thumb over the flesh of her hand, needing the connection that touching her provided. “Your father won’t be gone long and I have several things I want to tell you. The first is that I love you.”
In his hurry to impart what was in his heart he sounded as if he were ticking off items from a list. Thomas dropped his forehead onto the back of Cleo’s hand and groaned. “Do this right,” he commanded himself, fearful he’d already wasted too much of the precious time he’d been given.
But in that second he felt something new, something valiant growing in the space behind his heart. It was Hope. Carefully, he leaned close and kissed her cheek. “I love you with my whole heart, my darling. I want you to know that I can’t exist without you. Cleo, dear heart, you mean more to me than I can say.”
His eyes filled with moisture and he swiped his hand over his face to wipe away the wetness before it spilled from his eyes and ran down his cheeks. “Please wake up, Cleo. I need you. I love you. Please,” he repeated.
Thomas pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her, with all the tenderness his swelling heart could summon. And then he kissed her again.
As his lips lifted from hers, the pressure of her hand resting in his changed. Her flesh was no longer limp in his palm, but slowly and gradually tightened around his fingers.
“Cleo?”
Her eyes didn’t open, nor did her features change, but the grip on his fingers definitely did.
“Cleo? Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes?”
Her fragile grip tightened a bit, then a bit more.
“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
He’d just asked the question when the door opened and Lord Palmerston entered. Thomas looked over his shoulder. “I believe she’s trying to wake.”
Lord Palmerston crossed the room and reached for his daughter’s other hand. “Cleora? Can you hear me?”
Cleo moaned.
“Keep talking to her,” Lord Palmerston said. “I need to get her mother. She’ll never forgive me if I don’t tell her our daughter is waking.”
Lord Palmerston ran from the room.
“Cleo, you’d better wake. Your mother is coming and she expects you to be awake when she gets here.”
Another moan.
“That’s it, brave girl. You’re doing it! Open your eyes, Cleo. You need to wake up.”
Cleo’s head moved from side to side, her pale lips opening as if ready to speak. And just as her mother and father entered the room, she opened her eyes.
Thomas stepped back from the bed to let Cleo’s parents close. He watched as Cleo’s mother urged her to stay awake and her father demanded she keep her eyes open. And Cleo did. She opened her eyes and looked around the room.
“Are you here, Thomas?” she slurred groggily.
“I’m here, Cleo.”
He stepped close to the bed and she lifted her gaze. She remained focused on him as if she could see him.
His heart leapt as if heaven itself shone in her eyes. They glittered, shifted, and fixed on him. They shimmered with love. And then they smiled.
“You look exactly like I imagined you would,” she said.
. . .
The household was in a jubilant mood when word spread that Cleo could see again. Even Thomas was elated, although a part of him realized nothing would ever be the same again.
The doctor arrived and ordered Cleo to remain in bed for at least a week, which her mother and father assured him they’d see to. Polly brought at least one if not two of the puppies to see Cleo every afternoon, and Millie volunteered to take turns sitting with Cleo so her mother wouldn’t become overly tired. Even Daniel Welfore was granted a private audience to express his regret for Cleo’s misfortune in which he played a part.
Thomas, however, wasn’t allowed to be alone with her, as was only proper. And, except for rare occasions, he escaped to Cliffside and went days without seeing her. Which was for the best.
He’d known that when her sight returned, everything would change. He knew he could no longer be in her presence. The emotions they’d shared would no longer be possible.
Oh, Cleo would pretend nothing had changed. She would put on a brave front and attempt to convince him that his scarred face didn’t repulse her. She’d tell him that she still meant the words of endearment she’d spoken in the midst of their passion. But he knew that would be a tenderhearted lie.
He saw his face in the mirror every day. He knew it had to be hard for her to look at. It was hard for him. How could it not be repugnant to her? Which left him with one option. He had to avoid her. Not only for her sake, but for his as well.
The less he was in her company, the less he would miss her when her parents took her to London.
He had just seen Major Bennett on his way back to London when Barnaby found him in the library. “I’m glad to see you before you leave, brother-in-law. I’m making a jaunt to Cliffside today. The workmen have made great progress lately, and I want to keep that momentum going.”
“Would you like company?” Barnaby asked. “I’m sure Millie would like to see the progress as well.”
“Of course. Her advice has been invaluable.”
“When Lady Cleora is well enough to travel I’m sure she’d like to visit Cliffside again, too. Especially now that her vision has returned.”
Thomas grumbled. “I doubt she’ll have any interest in visiting Cliffside,” he said. “Don’t encourage it. Besides, I’m sure her parents will want to return to London as soon as she’s able.”
“You’re going to let her walk out of your life, aren’t you, Renfrew?”
Thomas was surprised by his brother-in-law’s boldness. Rather than face him, Thomas stood and walked to the other side of the room. He poured himself a glass of brandy and took a swallow before he poured another and carried it to Barnaby.
“I have little choice in the matter,” he said when he’d returned to his chair. “She deserves to live the life she was born into. And that life doesn’t include avoiding life in the City.”
“You intend to live your life secluded in the country, then?”
“I don’t intend to take myself off to London so I can shock the sensitive females of the ton, if that’s what you mean. Even I am not brave enough to endure the females turning their backs on me because they cannot bear to look at my face.”
“What about Lady Cleora? Don’t you think she deserves to have a say in this matter?”
“What I believe is that she deserves to find someone who is worthy of her. Someone who can complement her grace and beauty. And provide her with the life she was born to live.”
“And you don’t believe you can?”
Thomas threw the remainder of his liquor to the back of his throat. “Enough, Barnaby. We both know I cannot.”
He placed his glass on the table beside them. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to make arrangements with Cook for a basket to send with Welfore, then I want to check on Polly. I’ve ignored her too much over the past few days.”
Without casting a backward glance, Thomas left the room.
No one understood. Especially his family. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t give everything he had to have a life with Cleo. It was that there was nothing he could offer her as long as he looked as he did.
Chapter Twelve
Never had time crawled more slowly for Cleo than over the past week. For the first few days, her head hurt so badly when she woke that she didn’t want to get out of bed. Laudanum was her only recourse to banish the piercing pain. But once the throbbing eased, she could think of nothing except going downstairs to be with Thomas.
To see Thomas.
An hour didn’t go by that she didn’t think of him. She wanted to be with him even though he obviously wasn’t as anxious to be with her. He hadn’t once come to see her.
Thankfully, Polly came to see her at least twice every day. She brought one of the puppies they’d found, and while Cleo played with the growing pups, she’d interrogate Polly for every bit of information she could get about what Thomas was doing, and where he’d been keeping himself.
It was from Polly that she discovered that Thomas spent nearly every day at Cliffside. He was not only overseeing the workmen’s progress, but Polly told her that when he returned, he was covered with plaster and sawdust from the long hours he put in alongside the carpenters. Some nights he didn’t return at all, but stayed the night at Cliffside.
Polly exclaimed with excitement that it wouldn’t be long before their home would be finished and she and Thomas could move back. She couldn’t wait, especially since Thomas had told her she could choose one of the puppies to take with her.
How dearly Cleo wanted to be there, to watch him, his sleeves rolled up, his muscled arms flexing as he restored his home. She wanted to fill her eyes with nothing but him.
Quite often when Polly came to visit her, Millie also came. But not once did Thomas come. Oh, he often sent his greetings, and told Millie or Polly to ask how she was doing. But not once did he come in person. He’d avoided her since the day she woke and saw his face for the first time.
He hadn’t lied. He was badly scarred. But she found she’d barely noticed. Her eyes simply didn’t dwell on the damage. When she looked at him, she only saw his captivating eyes that mirrored his inner qualities. Instead of his physical imperfections she saw the man who was her best friend. The man she loved—who loved her as deeply—but who couldn’t trust her enough to accept her heart.
Cleo brushed her hand across her cheeks to wipe away the wetness she struggled to keep from spilling down her face, then looked up when someone knocked. The door opened and Millie entered her room.
“I saw your mother in the dining room. She said you were alone so I decided to come to keep you company for a bit.”
“I’m glad,” Cleo said, mustering as bright a smile as she could.
“You’ve been crying,” Millie said. “Are you in pain?”
“No,” Cleo said, then covered her hand over her mouth to stifle the sobs she couldn’t stop from escaping. “Yes,” she confessed. “I’ve never hurt so much in all my life, but there’s nothing a doctor can give me to make the pain hurt less. There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“It’s Thomas, isn’t it?” Millie said. She reached for Cleo’s hand and held it.
“Why can’t he see that his scars don’t matter to me?” Cleo blurted out before she had time to weigh her words.
“Because he knows that in time they will.”
Cleo couldn’t hide the shock of Millie’s statement of fact. She started to deny Millie’s accusation but Millie held up her hand to stop her.
“Let me ask you a question,” Millie said. “What future do you see for Thomas and yourself? Where will you live? How do you see yourself spending your days? And your nights?”
Cleo considered Millie’s question. “Contrary to what Thomas thinks, I will be content to live at Cliffside.”
“And never attend another ball? Or see another opera? Or associate with any of your friends?” Millie paused to give Cleo time to consider her answers. “Or do you envision yourself going to London without Tho
mas? Will you spend part of every year in London…alone, while Thomas resides at Cliffside?”
“I… I…” Cleo couldn’t answer Millie’s question. She couldn’t imagine never visiting London again, or never attending another social function. Nor did she want a future void of opera and ballet.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “What’s the answer then? Are you telling me to give up on Thomas?” She wiped the tears from her face and locked her gaze with Millie’s. “I’m not sure I can, Millie. I love him too much to spend my life without him.”
“But that may be the only option left to you, my lady. You will never be happy living in isolation. Thomas knows that. Which is why he has given you your freedom.”
“But I don’t want my freedom. I want Thomas.”
“That’s not the question you need to ask. You need to ask if Thomas wants you enough to face the members of the ton. You need to discover if Thomas is brave enough to overcome his greatest fear.”
Millie handed Cleo another handkerchief when she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “You cannot force Thomas to face London Society,” Millie continued. “That is a decision he will have to make on his own.”
Cleo blinked back another river of tears. “What if he chooses not to? I’m not sure I can live without him.”
Millie patted her hand. “Hopefully you’ll not be forced to. Hopefully he will realize that you have enough love for him, as well as an abundance of courage to offer him so that he will make the right decision. But the choice has to be his to make.” Millie rose from her chair. “Rest now, my lady. Get strong enough so you can join us. Once you’re well enough to leave these four walls, things will seem better.”
Cleo watched Millie exit the room. The door closed and Cleo felt as if the depths of the earth had opened up and swallowed her whole.
. . .
Thomas assisted the carpenters to lift the final large framed window into the opening in the wall of a back room behind the staircase. When this room was finished, the house would be completed enough that he and Polly could return to Cliffside. It had seemed for so long as if that day would never arrive. But it was almost here.
