by Wolf, Bree
It was a good life, and he would not take it for granted. He would cherish each and every day for as long as he lived.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lady Remsemere
While Grant’s aunt seemed to be an equally unpleasant creature as her own mother-in-law, Nessa had to admit that she liked Pierce and Elizabeth Barrett. They were decent and caring people with a great sense of humor, and if Nessa was not at all mistaken, they cared deeply for family and very little for the tedious vendetta between their mothers. She could not wait to meet their sons and see Milly’s eyes light up at the thought of new playfellows.
Although she had been nervous at first, Nessa found meeting her neighbors for a second time around made for a wonderful evening. In the beginning, everyone seemed careful not to say a wrong word. However, as time passed, most people realized that Nessa was still Nessa…and that she was happy.
Indeed, the evening had gone well in every way, and now Nessa was happily exhausted.
Smiling at her husband as they bid their last guests goodnight, Nessa marveled at the warmth that engulfed her every time they shared a look, or a word, or a kiss. Her fingers tingled, wishing for nothing more but to feel his wrapped around them once more. She longed to sink into his arms and see his moss-green eyes look down at her with that utter devotion that always shone in them. This was love, was it not?
Although Nessa could not remember, she knew that it had to be so. At the mere thought, her pulse hitched higher and she began to feel a little faint as though drunk with happiness.
To steady herself, Nessa reached out and put a hand on her husband’s arm.
Instantly, Grant turned toward her, the look in his eyes telling her that he felt the same longing that coursed through her own veins. “Are you all right?” he asked as his dark green eyes swept over her, leaving tingling sensations in their wake. “You look a little pale. I hope tonight was not too taxing for you.” Concern creased his forehead, and Nessa loved him all the more for it.
“Do not worry. I’m fine. I—”
“Why don’t you go and get some fresh air before you head to bed?” Grant suggested as he drew her closer, his gaze darting to Pierce and Elizabeth before he whispered into her ear. “I’ll see that our guests are settled and then I’ll come and find you.” Promise rang in his voice, and Nessa could have swooned into his arms right then and there.
Forcing her feet to carry her away from her husband’s side, Nessa left the front hall and, crossing through the drawing room, stepped out onto the terrace. The calm night air washed over her like a balm, and she closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Stars dotted the dark blue canvas overhead, casting a cozy light over the sleeping world. A faint breeze rustled leaves in the distance. Despite the absence of the sun, Nessa felt warm.
Inside and out.
The smile that clung to her lips felt heavenly, and she reveled in the longing to return to her husband’s side that coursed through her body. The sensation felt downright overwhelming, quickening her breath and stealing a heartbeat now and then. Did he feel the same when he looked at her? Nessa wondered, knowing that he did for he had never hidden that side of him, openly sharing his love and devotion with her.
And now, she finally dared believe him.
Finally, Nessa felt safe…even without knowing the answer to every question that sprang up in her mind. She no longer needed that. All she needed was her family, and she was the happiest woman alive.
Behind her, the door to the terrace opened and then closed, and Nessa turned to draw her husband into her arms. Unfortunately, it was not her husband who had come upon her, but his mother instead.
Her mother-in-law’s presence washed over Nessa like a cold fall rain, chilling her bones and sending cold shivers down her back. She saw the woman’s narrowed eyes and dark scowl as she stepped toward her. “I hope you had a wonderful evening as well,” Nessa said, unwilling to allow her mother-in-law’s dark mood to ruin a most extraordinary night.
The dowager countess scoffed in derision, her face even paler in the dim silvery light. “Everything was perfect,” she snarled, “and then you had to come back. Why couldn’t you have stayed away?”
The chill in Nessa’s limbs turned to ice. “How can you speak to me thus? Do you truly hate me so? What have I ever done to you to deserve this kind of hatred?”
The dowager’s eyes held a strange distance as though she were not truly seeing Nessa, but rather something deeply unpleasant she couldn’t seem to shake. “Even another year would have sufficed,” she hissed into the night. Then her gaze shifted, narrowed and finally settled on Nessa. “If you’d have returned a year later, it would have been too late. Wentford would not have put his desire for you,” she spat the word as though it hinted at something sinful, “over his son’s well-being.”
A new cold grabbed Nessa, and she hugged her arms around herself, suddenly shivering in the balmy night air. “His son’s well-being?” she asked as her thoughts momentarily turned to Oliver. Still, the look in her mother-in-law’s eyes told her that there was something she was not aware of. “What are you talking about?”
Slow steps carried the dowager countess across the terrace, her pale blue eyes fixed on Nessa as though she were taking aim. “He begged me not to say anything,” she hissed at Nessa, venom dripping from each word. “He said it didn’t matter.” Her jaw tightened. “But it does. It matters to me.” Shaking her head, she glared at Nessa. “You took everything from me, and now I shall do the same to you.”
Trying to make sense of the dowager’s vague words, Nessa drew in a deep breath, trying her best to remain calm. “What did I take from you? What on earth do you mean? Please, speak plainly. Perhaps there is a way for us to resolve this.”
A dark laugh left her mother-in-law’s lips. “The only way to resolve this would be for you to return to the land of the dead.”
Nessa froze.
“No, my dear, there is no way to resolve this,” she continued on, seemingly pleased to have shocked Nessa into silence. “Because of your return, my son’s wife had to marry another. Now, she is Lord Remsemere’s wife and her son will be Remsemere’s heir.”
Nessa’s heart slowed to an agonizing pause as she stared at her mother-in-law. “S-Son?” she stammered as dizziness engulfed her once more. “Eugenie is with child?”
Triumph lit up the dowager’s eyes as though she had achieved a victory by dealing Nessa a painful blow. “She is, and the child is my son’s. The boy would have been the heir we’ve all been waiting for for so long. He would have saved us all. He would have ensured that the title remain in our family and not be passed to Theodora’s brood.” From one second to the next, all anger and bitterness vanished from her pale features and she looked as though she might not have the strength to hold herself upright much longer. “But now it’s too late. Now, Pierce will inherit and then his eldest son, and we will be driven from our home, left with nothing and no one to protect us.”
Perhaps Nessa would have felt some sympathy for the despair that rang in her mother-in-law’s voice; however, her own heartbeat echoed so loudly in her ears that she barely heard anything the older woman said. Her teeth chattered as a dark cold crawled down her back, chasing away the remnants of warmth and safety, of hope and happiness this night had brought her. Tears blurred her vision, and she felt her fingernails dig painfully into her upper arms. “Eugenie is with child,” she mumbled, unable to believe even her own words. “Grant’s child. He has a child.” She stared at her mother-in-law, somehow hoping that she had misunderstood. However, the disgusted look in the older woman’s eyes told her that she had been hoping in vain.
“He does,” the dowager countess spat as anger seemed to return to her, “but he will never be able to claim him. He will be Remsemere’s son, the Beast of Ravengrove.” Gritting her teeth, she shook her head. “What will become of him? What will become of us? All is ruined.” Her pale blue eyes narrowed into thin slits as she glared at Nessa. “All because of
you.”
Overwhelmed by what she had learned, Nessa was about to bow her head in defeat when from somewhere within her a voice piped up, shoving at the despair that washed over her and pushing it aside, replacing it with something that strengthened Nessa’s limbs: righteous anger.
Inhaling a deep breath, Nessa lifted her head and met her mother-in-law’s gaze with a steely one of her own. Her lips thinned, and her hands finally released her arms, coming to rest on her waist as she leaned forward, ready to say her piece. “How dare you lay all this at my feet?” she snarled, briefly surprised when her mother-in-law blinked in confusion. “I did not leave Grant only to return now when he had moved on. It was not my doing. It was an accident. A terrible, life-changing accident.” Tears rose to her eyes, but she held them at bay, blinking her eyes rapidly. “Every moment of every day, I wish it hadn’t happened, that I wouldn’t have lost all those years with my family.” Swallowing, she continued. “But I cannot. I can only look to the future, and I’ve tried. I’ve tried my best.” Resignation washed over her, and she closed her eyes. “And I thought Grant had as well. I thought I’d been right to trust him. Perhaps…”
Nessa’s voice trailed off when, unbidden, the letter she had sent to her cousin entered her mind once more. Perhaps something had happened between her and Grant. Perhaps they had not been able to recover from the loss of their son. Perhaps a part of him had blamed her just as his mother did.
“Why did Grant not tell me?” she asked, meeting her mother-in-law’s eyes. “Why did he ask you not to say a word about this? About…his child?” He had told her everything, or so Nessa had thought. Why had he lied about this?
The dowager countess rolled her eyes. “Because he’s obsessed with you,” she hissed as though Nessa had worked dark magic in order to gain control of the dowager’s son. “He sacrificed his own son because he was afraid he would lose you if he did not. He chose you over him.” Shaking her head, the older woman took a step back. “Ask him yourself if you do not believe me. I no longer care. I have nothing left to lose.” Then she turned and walked away, slipping back into the house silently as though she had never been there.
Nessa stayed behind in the dark of night with only the twinkling stars overhead for company. “I should speak to Grant,” she whispered to the breeze as it brushed gently over her cheeks. “I should ask him.” And yet, her feet wouldn’t move.
Her heart ached in her chest, and her mind raced, still unable to understand all that she had learned in the past few minutes. What would happen now? What was she to do? Was there any chance she could continue this marriage and feel as carefree and happy as she had only an hour ago? Or was that gone for good now?
Why had she written the letter to her cousin? Had she truly contemplated leaving her husband, unable to remain his wife when he silently blamed her for the loss of their son? And yet, tonight there had been nothing in his demeanor, in the way he’d looked at her that would have spoken of thoughts like these. Did he no longer blame her?
Questions over questions assaulted Nessa, and she felt like sinking to the ground and hugging her knees to her chest. Perhaps she truly ought to speak to her husband. But would he tell her the truth? Neither could she speak to her father as he had always encouraged her to trust Grant. There was no one who did not have a motive, an agenda of their own, no one to turn to who would simply tell her the truth. Except perhaps…
Lifting her head, Nessa glanced up at the windows to her bedchamber and, for a moment, it seemed a shadow was hiding behind the curtains. A shadow that seemed to linger wherever Nessa went. The ghost of woman who had once—not long ago—inhabited that room, who had walked these grounds and made a life for herself here at Wentford Park. A woman who had been her husband’s wife and her daughter’s mother. A woman who had been ripped from her home by Nessa’s return from the land of the dead as the dowager countess had termed it so eloquently.
Eugenie.
Oddly enough, Nessa felt as though she, Nessa, was the one replacing a beloved wife and mother who had been lost to her family much too soon. Everywhere Nessa went, she felt Eugenie was there, watching her to see if she was good enough to take her place. And now, there was a child. A son, perhaps, and Nessa knew no matter what she did she could never live up to that.
Perhaps Eugenie ought to have stayed. Perhaps Nessa’s return had truly ruined her family’s lives. Perhaps that was why she felt Eugenie’s lingering presence everywhere she went. Or perhaps not. Nessa no longer knew what was right or wrong or what she ought to do or not. She needed someone to help her see the truth, and Lady Remsemere was not a ghost after all, was she?
Indeed, the young lady was very much alive and living not too far from here on a neighboring estate. She remembered the afternoon Grant had told her about his friend, Lord Remsemere, and a sudden determination settled in her mind.
Glancing up at the sky, Nessa found that the dark blue of night was slowly fading into a brighter color. Morning was fast approaching and would soon bring with it the colors of dawn, painting the sky with light. The dark would recede, and the world would return from the shadows.
With her hands still trembling, Nessa slipped back into the house, praying that Grant was still speaking to Pierce. Since he had not come to find her yet, she guessed the two men had retreated to her husband’s study for a glass of brandy and the exchange of a few words.
Picking up her skirts, Nessa raced up the stairs and quietly entered her bedchamber. There, she pulled off her exquisite ball gown, leaving it a crumpled mess on the floor, and quickly slipped into her most comfortable riding habit. Only in passing did she think of calling for a carriage. However, the risk of being discovered was too great, and panic rose in Nessa’s chest at the thought of facing her husband now.
No, she needed time. She needed to focus her thoughts. She needed her heart to calm. She needed to…speak to Eugenie.
Now.
Why Nessa suddenly felt so strongly about facing her husband’s second wife, she could not say. However, it gave her a purpose, something to do, something that shut out all others thoughts.
With her heart racing in her chest, Nessa tiptoed downstairs and, once again, slipped out the terrace doors. She rounded the house in quick strides and then hastened to the stables.
Stepping into the dim interior, Nessa needed a moment to allow her eyes to focus. Stalls lined one side of the large building, and she could dimly make out the outline of its occupants. The scent of hay and horse lingered in the air, and she strode forward, looking around for bridle and saddle. Had she ever saddled a horse? Nessa wondered, wishing more than ever to remember more of her own past.
“Is there anything I can help you with, your ladyship?”
With a sharp intake of breath, Nessa turned toward the shadow that had materialized to her right. Fortunately, he turned out to be a young man with a kind smile instead of a floating specter. “Yes, thank you,” Nessa mumbled as she tried to regain her composure while her heart still pounded wildly in her chest. Perhaps this was not the best idea she’d ever had. Still, as a better one eluded her, she continued on. “I need a horse. I wish to ride out.”
A look of incredulity came to the young man’s face as he glanced out the window at the dim light. “Certainly, your ladyship.” Then he went about the task at hand.
“How far is it to Ravengrove?” Nessa asked as he began to saddle a dapple gray horse that let out a soft neigh. “Would you be able to guide me there?” As much as Nessa wished to be alone, it would not be wise to get lost on the road. Perhaps the groom could take her to Ravengrove and then return to Wentford Park and inform her husband where she had gone. She needed a head start, but had no desire to disappear without a trace. After all, she fully intended to confront her husband…just not now.
In the end, it took a little convincing to keep the groom named Peter from informing the household of their departure. He seemed quite uncomfortable and glanced over his shoulder numerous times as though he wished to shout
a goodbye.
Fortunately, he did not.
As the sun slowly began to rise, painting the sky in various colors, they quickened their pace and were soon flying along the dusty path. Once, they stopped to water their horses at a small stream, but then hastened onward. Nessa felt her skin crawl with the need to reach her destination and her thoughts circled around what she would say, what she would learn, what would await her. Would Lady Remsemere even speak to her? Or would she turn her away, as furious about Nessa’s return as her own mother-in-law? Grant had told her that Eugenie had not been angry, but had understood. Still, at this point, Nessa could not be certain that her husband had told her the truth. Perhaps he had made up a lie to ease her mind.
When Ravengrove, tall and forbidding, appeared on the horizon around midday, a cold shiver went down Nessa’s back. A new certainty rose in her heart that Eugenie had not come here willingly, but only as a last resort. She had been out of options, and this place had been better than returning to her guardian’s house in disgrace. Still, something dark lingered here, and Nessa remembered that the man who resided on this estate had been termed the Beast of Ravengrove. Again, Nessa wondered if her husband’s words had been true or if he had spoken falsely of his friend.
Bidding her groom to return to Wentford Park, which he did with a certain reluctance, Nessa urged her dapple gray onward. Her gaze slid over the imposing towers of the ancient structure of Ravengrove and took in the dense forest growing on one side. In the distance, Nessa could hear the rushing of a fast-flowing river and saw the sun’s rays reflected in its gleaming surface here and there as though a star had fallen from the sky and lay hidden in the tall-growing meadow.
