by Hazel Grace
Garrett
Chapter 22
John and I were outside, watching our second group of Elite troops train. The kicking up of dirt made a light cloud of dust—which began to burn my eyes—mixed with the sound of clashing swords, filled the air. They were doing well, better than I expected, and I wasn’t going to go inside, even though I was starting to have a coughing fit. If everything went to plan, this second group of men, which I molded after the Elite Eight, would be ready in about two months. Then I planned on bringing in Father’s army, to improve their skills on fighting and footwork.
John nudged me out of my thinking. “Your sister is out here.”
I followed his gaze to find my sister striding toward me, looking pissed, her hands in fists and eyes narrowed at me. Her meeting with our father hadn’t gone well, apparently.
“What are you doing out here?” I called out to her, watching her dodge my men sparring with each other all over the field. It was dangerous being out here; my men weren’t looking to make sure a woman wasn’t on the field. She coughed from the dirt, before she stopped in front of me, waving her hand in front of her face.
“You are the stupidest man I have ever met!” Hara exclaimed, and several soldiers turned toward us. No woman entered the sparring grounds; except, of course, my unruly sister.
Placing my hand on her shoulder, I escorted her toward my small wooden cabin, where I kept my training records and plans. When we got a fair distance away from prying ears and the deathly dust, I stopped.
I crossed my arms over my chest, peering down at her. “Now, what is this about?”
“You are engaged to be married, Garr?” she seethed.
My forehead furrowed. “I am not.”
Hara squinted, pointing at me with her small finger. “That isn’t what she said. She said you were to marry Sophia Chitwood.”
“Who?”
Her jaw tightened. “Ava.”
All the blood raced from my head. “What the fuck?” I raked my hands through my hair, my stomach twisting.
“Fuck is right!” Hara ranted. “I thought you adored her. I mean, you talked about her like you did; it was evident in your letters. How could you be so foolish!”
“I didn’t agree to marry Chitwood!” I snapped, feeling my face heat. “Father has been pushing me to marry the Chit.”
Hara took a step closer. “Then you better tell Ava because, right now, she is done with you.”
“I don’t give a shit what she is, Hara. I’m not interested in settling down, and—”
Her face twisted. “Stop lying to yourself. Mama and I see it.”
“You haven’t been around to see me act or look at someone a certain way.”
“Keep lying, Garr. Go ahead.” She crossed her long arms. “But I warn you, if you don’t fix it, Ava will shut you out, and then there will be no Ava, even if you come to your senses and change your mind.”
“Get back to the castle.” I moved past her, striding toward the back entrance of the castle.
Pushing through a set of oak doors, I whisked through the halls. My heart pounded out of my chest at the realization that not clarifying Sophia would make Ava not want to speak with me again. I’d had plans in my head of not settling down for so long, it scared me that I’d want to stay here—the one place I couldn’t stand—just to be with her.
Son of a bitch.
Reaching her room, I knocked loudly before I changed my damn mind.
Nothing.
I knocked again and waited.
Silence.
“Avie!”
I heard a sigh, and then, “Come in.”
That was all I needed. Pushing through, I stopped mid-step.
She looked more stunning than I remembered, curled up in a chair by the fire, her arm looped around her knees. She also looked haggard, the flames showing off how much her rosy cheeks had disappeared. Her bright red hair was braided and radiated from the flames, but her eyes were heavy-lidded and tired. Her dress was plain brown and hung over her body.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice held the irritation that confirmed she was avoiding me.
“I hadn’t seen you in days,” I said. She looked away and gazed into the fire.
“You’ll survive.”
“Are you still feeling ill?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look like shi—unwell?”
She shrugged. “Just tired.”
“Is the bed not—”
“The bed is fine.”
I gritted my teeth. The short answers weren’t sitting well with me. She was treating me like…anyone else she didn’t want to be bothered with.
“Then you should get some rest.”
She glanced over at me, her green eyes sizing me up. “Thanks, Doctor Cranfield.”
“Hara came to see me.”
Ava sighed. “I figured she would.”
I walked over to stand in front of her. “Then let’s talk about it.”
She rubbed her temples with her fingers. “I’m tired. I don’t feel like talking.” I watched her, emotionless.
“Then I’ll do the talking.”
“I don’t feel like listening either.”
I almost placed my hand on her arm but decided against it. “So, you’re just going to sit there and pout for the rest of your stay?” I snapped.
Ava didn’t flinch; she just continued to stare at me. I saw the twinkle missing in her eyes as I studied her. Instead, they held sheer resentment for me and what she had been told.
“What would I pout about?”
“I’m not going to marry her.” I waited for her to respond but she said nothing. I took a seat across from her. “Are listening to me?”
“I am.”
“Well?”
“What do you want me to say, Garr?”
“My father has been pressuring me to marry her, but I’ve flatly refused several times. But—”
“I understand,” she cut in.
I raised a brow. “So, you believe me?”
“I do.”
Narrowing my eyes, I held her gaze. “Then you’re fine?”
She nods. “Perfectly.” I released the breath I had been holding in. Settling back in the chair, I tried to relax my tense body as she continued, “I may have found myself in my own predicament, so I apologize for coming to conclusions.”
“It’s fine, Avie,” I replied with a grin. “What’s going on? I hope I didn’t cause you to look so upset. I would never hurt you.”
She looked down at her hands, as she started to play with her fingers. “I know,” she muttered. “The queen is the last person I should be believing. I’m sorry.”
Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on my knees. “Avie,” I said softly. “What’s wrong?” She squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lower lip. “Ava.”
Exhaling, she peered up at me. “It’s George. I agreed to marry him if—”
I stood from the sofa. “You are not marrying my brother!”
“It’s only if—”
“Stop it!” I roared. I pointed a finger at her, feeling my whole body shaking. “I already know. You had your own little plans behind my back, didn’t you? George and yourself had an arrangement to marry if he couldn’t find a good enough bride on his own. That you failed to tell me. Meanwhile, you let me kiss you, touch you, and–”
“Please,” Ava begged. “We don’t plan on marrying if we can find someone. It’s just that I don’t want him unhappy, and—”
“And what?” I snarled, glaring at her. “Get stuck in another arranged marriage, Ava? I thought you were trying to stay the fuck away from that?”
“It’s George.”
It may have been the soft way it rolled off her lips. Or maybe I was starting to get jealous of her being with another man and my not being able to touch her anymore, especially when it was one of the closest human beings to me. I couldn’t betray my brother, but it didn’t mean I would be happy about their marriage.
&
nbsp; “So, you’d submit your happiness to marry my brother?” The air seemed to be leaving the room as I watched her chest heave in and out. She was getting just as worked up as me but not in the way I was. I was pissed; she was upset. And I had just said I’d never hurt her.
She opened her mouth but closed it again. Watching her find the right words, or to break it to me softly, began to rack my nerves. I began to question myself about her… Was I wrong?
“George is my best friend. He has always tried to protect me,” she decreed. “I owe him.”
“You don’t owe him shit,” I countered. “He’s a big boy now. George doesn’t need to be saved by a small woman so that his happiness is well-kept.”
Her eyes tightened. “We have a history. We protect each other.”
I threw my hands up in the air, turning my back on her. “This is fucking ridiculous.” Shaking my head, I ran my fingers through my hair before rounding on her again. “Where is the strong Ava that knew what she wanted? Who knew that she wanted to explore the world and see new things? Did she die when she was almost killed? Because I don’t see her now.”
“Stop it,” she growled, stiffening in her chair. Her eyes were directed to the floor. I stalked over to her, crouching down beside her chair.
“Avie, what the fuck happened? There has to be something.”
“Cecilia sent Caroline Bennett away, married her off to one of the Lords staying here in the castle.” Her attention locked onto the fireplace. “She knew that George was using her to buy time. Father has been pushing to press his intention on me. That I was already trained and bred to be Queen. There is no one else worthy enough to fit the bill, so George said we might have to marry after all.”
I bit my tongue to keep from lashing out at her for being a hypocrite; for being upset about my fake marriage to Sophia when she had plans of her own.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked back over to me. “Because I didn’t want to think about it when we went to the picnic. I wanted to leave Ava Barlow here.”
I planted my hand on her knee. “I told you that my kisses would be the only ones you’d remember from now on.” I rubbed my thumb over her dress, trying to relieve some of the tension on her body. “You think George will erase them? That he’d make you shudder in his arms like you did in mine, Avie?”
“I wanted one night. One night of freedom. While Ava Barlow was here, awaiting her fate. Waiting for everyone to tell her what to do and who to marry. Even though…even though I didn’t want to come back here, to this prison of a castle. I came because you asked me to.” She shook her head, her voice hardening. “You and George promised to protect me. But you can’t protect me. I will never get what I want. I’ve accepted it. So, if I’ve hurt your feelings, I’m sorry, but you’ll get over it.”
“You didn’t hurt my feelings,” I retorted, turning my head away so she couldn’t see that she did hit a mark with me. The thought of her marrying my brother sent a rush of jealousy through me. I’d never felt it until now, and I didn’t like how the feeling suited me so perfectly in this moment.
Ava raised her chin. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s right. You’re Garrett Cranfield, the serious, no bullshit-taking older brother, who has no feelings.” Rising from the chair, she walked around me, striding toward her bed.
“Don’t be dramatic, Avie. It doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m not one of your men, Cranfield. So fuck off with your orders.”
She reached for her wrap off her bedframe and wrapped it around her shoulders, making her way toward the door.
“You didn’t speak the whole truth to me either, Avie. I had other plans with my so-called arrangement. You, on the other hand, were going to hand yourself to the wolves.”
“I’m not going to explain myself,” she decreed, placing her hand on the doorknob. Pausing, with her back to me, I saw her shoulders slump before she slowly shook her head. “Goodbye, Cranfield.”
And with that, she opened the door, exiting and closing it without a backward glance.
Ava
Chapter 23
“I must leave immediately,” I reported to George, finding him in the palace stables. Searching for him wasn’t hard; it was early in the morning, and the only people bustling around were the help. It was too early for anyone to go for a ride or run an errand, by a Lord’s standard. I’d noticed the Lords that occupied the castle were lazy and didn’t wake up until after noon, still drunk or weary from the night before. In Bampshire, men were up before the sun, working and getting their days started. Brushing his prized stallion, George peered over his shoulder at me, letting his brush fall to his side.
He raised his eyes heavenward. “Ava, if it’s about Garr, we talked about this. I told you that he isn’t going to marry her.”
“This isn’t about him. Look!” I shoved the letter I received moments ago from Mrs. Reynolds at him. Opening it, his eyes quickly scanned the message as he read. My stomach was in knots, my anxiety heightened at the contents. She reported that Papa was very ill and the doctors in town weren’t sure how to get his fever down or keep him from retching up his food. He’d been doing it for over four days.
He drew in a deep breath. “Did you just receive this?”
I nodded. “Yes, I came to you right away.” Throwing down his brush, he placed his hand on my back, pushing me toward the exit of the stables.
“Go get some clothes packed, and I’ll get the coach ready for you immediately.”
“Lucy and Miranda are already doing it.” I halted, turning on George. “Do you think it’s serious? I can’t bear the thought of—”
George placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t think like that. Your father is a strong man. He just needs a doctor who knows what he’s actually doing. Now, go make sure they are getting together everything you need.”
I hurried off quickly. This was never going to end. My life was never going to pan out. Now fate wanted to take not only my freedom away, but also put my father’s health at risk. My brain was exhausted from its constant racing and pondering of the future. When I got to my room, Lucy and Miranda were finishing up, throwing a few random outfits in a small travel bag, along with odds and ends.
When they finished, I hugged them both, telling them I would be back as soon as I could. They gave me well wishes for safe travels as I carried my two small bags. Crossing the grassy field to the stable, I watched as George drove a small carriage hooked to four horses toward me.
“I don’t want you traveling on horseback; you’re still getting back all your strength,” George stated, jumping down to load my luggage.
I didn’t argue. From my lack of sleep and eating, I didn’t have the energy to ride aside my own horse for four days. Movement to my right caught my attention, as four large men approached. I recognized them instantly; they were half of the Elite Eight.
I turned and looked at George. “No,” I snapped. George gave me a questioning stare and followed my gaze.
“You didn’t think you were going alone, did you?” he asked, eyebrow raised. “You know better.”
“Don’t you have other men that can come with me?” I scowled. It could be anyone else. I didn’t want to use Garrett’s men, nor did I want any more of his help.
George put his hands on my forearms. “He doesn’t know…yet, that I borrowed them.” Pulling me into his arms, he hugged me tightly, placing his chin on top my head. “The men are going to report to me when you stop for fresh horses, to let me know where you are. Once you’ve checked in on your father and are settled in, write me at once. I will be sending a doctor behind you. I’d feel more comfortable if one of my physicians takes a look at him.”
“Thank you,” I mumbled into his chest.
“Try and get some rest on your way there. Don’t trouble yourself too much. Your father will be fine, Ava.” After giving me one last squeeze, he released me, holding out his hand to help me into the carriage.
Settling into the black leather
seats, I took a deep breath. George was issuing out orders to the men while I clasped my hands for strength, faith, and peace for no thoughts of Garrett.
∞∞∞
I arrived in Bampshire, safe and sound, thankful that the weather had been warm and sunny the whole way. It lightened my dampened spirits and made me determined to enjoy my visit home while nursing Papa back to health. Mrs. Reynolds greeted me with tears rolling down her cheeks as she ushered me into the house.
Leaving my two pieces of baggage at the door, I went up to the second floor to see Papa. I hesitated before opening the door, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing myself for how my father would be on the other side. Each inhale was attempting to pull inner strength from somewhere within me, to prepare for the worst. Setting my hand on the doorknob, I turned it enough to poke my head through it. The itchy squeak of the door caused my body to tense, hoping I hadn’t disturbed Papa.
Inching toward his pine four-poster bed, the warm, stale air stuck to my skin, immediately making me start to perspire. Wiping my forehead with my sleeve, my eyes studied his blanched face. Reaching over to touch his cheek, his skin was warm while his breathing was steady. I walked over to crack open a window, allowing the warm spring air to flow swiftly through the room. Standing by his bedside again, I kissed his forehead gently, whispering that I was home and would be back up soon. Leaving his room, Mrs. Reynolds was at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for me.
“Have you been sleeping?” I asked her, noticing black circles under her eyes and wrinkles as she furrowed at me.
“I could ask you the same thing. Why do you look like they’ve been putting you to work over there?”
“I drank some bad coffee and was ill for a few days; nothing major,” I replied, forcing a small chuckle. “Just getting my own strength back.”
“I heard of that Lady being poisoned. Your father is going to be so—”
“Let’s not worry him about that,” I retort. “He needs peace and to focus on getting well.”
