WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE

by When Dreams Come True(Lit)

  They stood no less than a few feet from each other, but there might as well have been an ocean between them for all the good her pleading did.

  His eyes turned distant. “Eden, one thing I’ve learned in my life is that you can’t go back. It will never be the same between us.”

  “How will it change?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned and, without a backward glance, headed for the stables.

  Frightened, Eden let him go. He mustn’t sell Cornish King. If he did, he would never forgive her.

  Lady Penhollow had been wrong earlier about the weather. The rain wasn’t an idle threat for it began to drizzle, but Eden didn’t heed the weather. Suddenly, she knew someone who could help her—the Widow Haskell.

  She didn’t even return to the house for a shawl but started in the direction of Hobbles Moor. Her legs had grown accustomed to exercise and she managed the distance to the village in less than fifteen minutes.

  She skirted the edge of Hobbles Moor, afraid to run into anyone who would question the countess of Penhollow walking around in a wet dress, but she had to act fast before Pierce left.

  She was almost soaked to the bone by the time she arrived at the Widow’s cottage. The small house sat on the far side of a pasture, nestled between several old willow trees that guarded the path leading to the moors beyond Hobbles Moor. A candle burned in the window. Smoke came from the chimney that was sheltered from the rain by the overhanging tree branches. She could smell the peat fire in the air.

  The long grass and thistles of the pasture pulled at Eden’s dress as she made her way across. The ground felt soggy beneath her feet. Her kid slippers were ruined and her hair hung in a bedraggled mess down her back. Eden didn’t care.

  She marched to the cottage door, but before she could knock, the door opened. The Widow Haskell glared at her with dark, shiny eyes. Her silver hair hung loose around her shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for you. Come in.”

  Eden entered the smoky cottage. The door was so low, she had to stoop to go through it.

  Leaning heavily on her walking stick, the Widow hobbled over to a small rocker in front of the smoky fire. Eden stood just inside the door.

  She pushed wet strands of her hair back from her face and took stock of the Widow’s home. The walls were lined with shelves. Boxes and small jars holding herbs and various items were stacked on the shelves. One jar held chicken’s feet, preserved in what appeared to be oil. Another was filled with bird beaks, still others contained items Eden preferred not to question.

  The air smelled of peat, tobacco, and the savory contents of whatever was cooking in a black pot close to the fire. The Widow pulled out her pipe and tamped the tobacco before lighting it. It was then that Eden noticed the young rooster sitting on the back of the Widow’s chair. He appeared very at home.

  “Is that chicken a pet?” Eden asked.

  “He’s my Gorgeous,” the Widow said, rewarding Eden with her gap-toothed smile. “Say hello to the countess, Gorgeous.”

  The bird did nothing but eye Eden in that peculiar manner common to all chickens.

  “Sit down, Countess.” The Widow Haskell indicated a chair across from her.

  Eden didn’t sit. Instead, she asked the question that had burned inside of her all the way to Hobbles Moor. “Why is he leaving me?”

  The Widow Haskell puffed on her pipe before answering. “You have come to me because you fear Lord Penhollow no longer cares for you.”

  “Tell me, does he care?”

  “From the moment he laid eyes on you.”

  “But what about now?” Eden asked, fearing the answer. “Why must he lose Cornish King for me?”

  The Widow Haskell leaned forward. “Lady Penhollow, I am no witch or magician. I work with the forces of nature, not against them. If you want the answer to that question, you must ask your husband.”

  “I can’t,” Eden admitted. “He is leaving for London. He feels I’ve betrayed him and I fear for my marriage. Please, I want it to be the way it was between us.”

  “Nothing can ever stay the same, my lady. The world changes day by day, hour by hour.”

  “But not love,” Eden answered. “Love is a constant.”

  “Love changes like everything else.” The Widow sat back in her rocker. Gorgeous ruffled his wings a bit to keep his balance as the rocker moved back and forth. “Yes, love must change most of all. If it doesn’t, it withers and dies.”

  Eden sank down onto the hard dirt floor at the Widow’s feet. “I am not who everyone thought I was,” she confessed. “I don’t believe I can keep his love, not after what I have done.”

  “Did you lie to him?”

  Eden shook her head. “Yes. I didn’t trust him, and I still am not sure that I didn’t do the right thing by not telling him.” She touched the worn hem of the woman’s faded dress. “Please, you must help me.”

  “And what do you think I should do?”

  “I don’t know. But you’re the one whom everyone said brought me here. And if you knew I was a fraud, you should have told Lord Penhollow, but you didn’t.”

  The Widow’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I knew?”

  “I sensed it, from the moment we first met in the stable yard.”

  The Widow reached out and placed her hand on Eden’s head. “I didn’t bring you here, child. You brought yourself and you could have chosen to tell him the truth at any time.”

  “But then he would not have looked at me the way he did. He would not have married me. And now he may set me aside.” Eden reached out, grasping her hand. “Please, you must help me.”

  The Widow removed the pipe from her lips. “This may be a hard lesson, Countess, and my heart goes out to you—but I will not help.”

  Eden came to her feet. “Why not?” she demanded.

  “There is nothing I can do,” the Widow said gently. “Even if I did deal in sorcery, there is still only one way to save a marriage. You must fight for it.”

  “But what about Cornish King? Pierce will never give me a chance if he loses that horse.”

  “Then you must see that he doesn’t.”

  “How can I? I have no money. I have nothing except for the clothes on my back and Pierce has already used all his money helping the people of Hobbles Moor and the miners. I offered to go back to London with Madame, but he wouldn’t let me. He became furious at the suggestion.”

  “A marriage is work. And it doesn’t grow stronger when others help you deal with your problems. You must solve them yourself.”

  “What if he doesn’t want me?”

  The Widow Haskell pulled Gorgeous down into her arms and started petting the rooster. “Then you will fail, for a marriage is a union of two souls. If one begs release, there is no hope for the other.”

  “I’m doomed,” Eden said softly. This wise woman was her last hope and all she offered were platitudes. “I have no way to keep him. Don’t you hear me? My marriage is over!”

  The Widow rocked back and forth, closing her eyes, a ring of smoke around her head. “It will be as you say.”

  Eden covered her mouth with her hand, suddenly afraid. What had she done? Had she cursed herself?

  The Widow heaved a deep sigh. “Go now. I am tired and want to be alone.” With those words, she rested her chin on her chest, the pipe still clamped between her teeth. A moment later, Eden heard her gently snoring.

  Numb, Eden walked out of the cottage. It rained heavily now.

  Home. She had nowhere else to go but home.

  She started across the pasture when a voice called her name. It was Leeds, the coachman. He stood with the pony trap in the shelter of the trees.

  “Lord Penhollow sent me, my lady. He told me to follow you and bring you home.”

  “He sent you?” she asked, hope surging inside of her. “Then he isn’t going to London?”

  “No, my lady, he’s on his way if he hasn’t left already,” Leeds said regretfully.

  Eden stood in the rain,
rooted to the ground.

  “My lady, shouldn’t we be going? You appear very wet and cold.”

  “No, Leeds, I don’t feel a thing,” she said sadly, and walked over to the trap.

  Lady Penhollow waited by the front door. She’d been wrong about the rain.

  Her son rode up from the stables.

  Fearful that an umbrella would frighten the horse, she pulled a shawl over her head and stepped outside. Rawlins hovered anxiously. “I go alone,” she told him briskly, and he stepped back.

  Descending the front steps, Lady Penhollow planted herself firmly in her son’s path. He reined in.

  “What is going on between you and Eden?” she demanded. She placed her hand on the reins so that he could not get away from her easily.

  “Nothing.”

  She shook her head. “There is something and you are running away from it.”

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked testily.

  “You don’t need to go to London to sell Cornish King. You hate London and only go when you must.”

  “I need to speak with Whitby.”

  “Nonsense. You could write the man a letter from here. Furthermore, the weather is terrible for a journey. You’re running away, Pierce, just like your father used to.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She made an impatient sound. “Whenever your father wanted to avoid something unpleasant, he left for London. What are you leaving to avoid?”

  Pierce, his beaver-rim hat low on his head and dripping rain, shifted uneasily. “I’ll be home in a week.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then things will be as usual.”

  She could tell he was lying to her. It was one of the things only a mother could sense. “Pierce, I have never seen two people so in love as you and Eden. Watching you these past several weeks has made me realize how much I’ve missed in life. Don’t be foolish like I was. Don’t throw it away.”

  He stared at her, an angry muscle working in the side of his jaw. He was like her in so many ways, she could almost tell what he was thinking.

  “I’ll be back in a week,” he said tersely, and she let go of the reins.

  “Then Godspeed, my son. But think about what I said. You see, love can die if it isn’t treasured. Remember that.”

  He didn’t say anything, and she expected him to ride off. At the last moment, he surprised her by bending and kissing her cheek. Then, putting his heels to his horse, he left.

  Lady Penhollow raised her fingers to the place he’d kissed, watching him go. In her heart, she knew he was very unhappy. She’d never seen him like this.

  Rawlins ran out with an umbrella. “Shouldn’t you come in, my lady?”

  Absently, she nodded and let him lead her back inside. He shook off the umbrella and asked, “I know I may be speaking out of turn, my lady, but has something happened to Penhollow Hall to cause his lordship to sell his horse? I mean, Cornish King has been a bit of a talisman for all of us.”

  “I don’t know why he has made this decision,” Lady Penhollow answered truthfully. She handed him her damp shawl. “Please tell me when my daughter-in-law returns.”

  She then went in search of Betsy, only to be disappointed. For once, the nosy maid didn’t know anything other than what they all knew about the visitors from yesterday afternoon. There was a sound in the front yard. Lady Penhollow crossed to a window and watched Eden, soaking wet, step down from the trap.

  “Draw a bath for your mistress,” she ordered Betsy and went downstairs to greet her daughter-in-law.

  But Eden was not in the foyer when Lady Penhollow arrived there. “Where is she?” she asked Rawlins.

  “I suggested she go to her room to dry off but instead she went to Lord Penhollow’s study.”

  “Thank you.” Lady Penhollow walked down the hall. The study was shadowy dark.

  She paused in the doorway. “Eden?”

  No answer. She walked in. Moving to a side table, she struck a lucifer. It flared, the sulfur stinging her nostrils, and she lit a candle.

  Eden was sitting in Pierce’s chair behind his desk. Her arms were crossed and she was shivering. Her eyes were swollen from crying.

  “Eden, what are you doing sitting here in the gloom?”

  Eden bunked as if just realizing Lady Penhollow was in the room. She didn’t answer but shook her head and turned her thoughts back to their dark contemplation. The girl appeared to be drained of her spirit and vitality.

  Lady Penhollow walked over to the desk chair. “Eden, listen to me. You must go upstairs and change into dry clothes.”

  She frowned. “Not yet. I’ve got something to tell you. I don’t expect you will like it but I won’t pretend any longer. The past has caught up with me.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Lady Penhollow asked, and Eden told her the whole story, her voice a monotone.

  “So you see, you and your friends were right about me,” she finished. “I’m not the sort of person who belongs here. I’ve done the unforgivable… and discovered the price is so high—Oh, what have I done?” Eden broke down into heartfelt sobs.

  Putting her arms around her daughter-in-law, Lady Penhollow said, “You will make yourself sick if you carry on this way. Now, come to your senses or I shall send for my hartshorn and you won’t like that one bit.”

  When that didn’t work, Lady Penhollow said bluntly, “Well, when you are through wallowing in your self-pity, we shall talk.”

  Eden lifted her head in surprise. “Self-pity? Didn’t you hear what I said?”

  “I don’t know what I think about your tale,” Lady Penhollow said. “But I do know my son is madly in love with you.”

  “Not anymore. He’s disgusted with me.”

  “Oh, what silliness. He’s disappointed but not disgusted. Of course, I have no doubt that you are completely miserable, both of you. The Kirriers are a hardheaded lot and can make a person feel very guilty. I should know, since I taught him those tricks.”

  “It’s more than that—”

  Lady Penhollow gave an angry wave of her hand, cutting her off. “Pierce is not made of fluff and nonsense. He is a man with heart and the courage to follow it. Why, there have been times I’ve had my house full of the neighbors swearing at Pierce and declaring that he was about to ruin the whole family. He was only nineteen when he reopened the mines. Everyone told him he would fail, but he stood his ground then. He knew his own mind, and he knows it now.”

  “Yes, well, he can change his mind too. The Widow Haskell said there is nothing I can do.” The thought almost threw her back into tears again.

  Lady Penhollow took Eden’s hands in hers. “Oh, Eden, I’ve never believed that silliness about her charms being the reason you and my son made a match. And it wasn’t just your beauty that attracted him, although I imagine he is saying that now.”

  “He calls it lust.”

  “He’s had plenty of that these last few weeks,” his mother observed dryly. “But what is between you is more than that, Eden. He loves the person inside you.” She pushed a lock of wet hair away from Eden’s face. “My son is smarter than I am. He always said he would marry for love and that is exactly what he did. Nor is he a man to love lightly. If he chooses to sell Cornish King, it is because it’s the best decision he can make to protect those he loves.”

  “But he also loves that horse.”

  “Yes,” his mother agreed. “But Cornish King is only an animal. You are going to be the mother of his children. Pierce is very confused, and yes, a bit angry right now. Still, I have faith that he will make the right decision.”

  Eden tilted her head doubtfully. “I want to believe you, but he’s so proud… nor do I want to hurt him further.”

  “Oh, poo,” Lady Penhollow said with exasperation. “You are no worse than myself, the daughter of a butcher. In Millie Willis’s book, we are both equally to be avoided. I’ll warn you, it won’t be easy putting up with the snubs and stares of women like her, but p
erhaps you will be wiser than I was. Oh, Eden, I allowed myself to go into a terrible dark period. I felt like you do now, that I wasn’t worthy of anything, not even my own son… and Pierce was the one who suffered for it. I just realized that recently.“

  She gave Eden’s hands a squeeze. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as happy as he’s been since you came into his life. But now it is time to test the mettle the two of you are made from. The question is, are you going to give Pierce up, mewling that you don’t deserve him? Or are you going to fight for him?”

  “That’s the question the Widow Haskell asked me. I don’t want to ruin his life.”

  “Answer us then! Do you love my son enough to fight for him?”

  “Yes!” Eden said, coming to her feet. “Yes, I do, but it may be too late.”

  “Eden, it is never too late. But you must teach him not to run away from a problem between the two of you again.”

  “How am I going to do that?”

  “First, you are going to take the hot bath I’ve had Betsy prepare for you and get yourself in dry clothes. After that, we are going to put together a plan.”

  “A plan?” Eden asked, following her as she started to leave the study.

  Lady Penhollow paused to blow out the candle before saying, “We’re going to attempt a little sorcery of our own.” She took Eden’s hand and led her out of the study.

  Chapter 18

  Pierce spent his first two days in London wandering. He told himself he was busy.

  He wasn’t.

  Since he so seldom came to the city, he had a great deal of business to keep him occupied and many acquaintances to see. Some had been friends of his father’s. Pierce didn’t enjoy spending very much time with them and one visit to the club his father used to favor was more than enough.

  The one thing he couldn’t motivate himself to do was contact Whitby about Cornish King. The word was that Whitby was not in town and could be reached at his stables in Sawston. Pierce could ride up to meet with him, but something held him back. He couldn’t even make himself write a letter to Whitby.

  Cornish King had helped to make Pierce a man. When he hadn’t a friend in the world, the horse had been there. He knew his feelings were sentimental, yet there they were. Cornish King would always be more than just a horse. He was a major part of Pierce’s life.