by Bree Wolf
“Maybe she was afraid. Maybe she was afraid of what would happen.”
“What could be worse than what my father did to her?”
Her husband shrugged. “Maybe she was afraid that no one would believe her.”
“How could they not? The whole household knew!”
Holding on to her hand, her husband sat up. “’Tis not that easy for women to claim their own rights.”
“Believe me, I know,” Henrietta sighed. All her life she had fought to be accepted as a capable individual, one who could choose her own life. She had fought everyone around her on principle because she feared that if she gave in only once and lost a battle, she would lose the war. “I know it would not have been easy, and yet, I cannot imagine that her life was anywhere close to acceptable for her. How could it be?”
“Maybe it was simply familiar.”
Henrietta shrugged. “What I’m trying to say is that what frightens me the most is not the thought of someone I care for turning against me. Yes, it would be awful and devastating, but what I truly am frightened of is,” she took a deep breath, “that I will let it happen.” Holding her husband’s gaze, Henrietta waited, hoping to see that tiny spark of understanding that meant that he would listen.
“Ye mean out of love, Lass?” he asked, and Henrietta sighed in relief. “That ye allow someone to mistreat ye because ye love him?”
As tears streamed down her face, Henrietta nodded. It had taken her years to understand the root of her fears, and deep down, she had not expected him to understand. The fact that he did meant more to her than she could ever express. “It’s what my mother did. Whether she truly loved my father or not, she rather deceived herself into believing that he didn’t mean it, that it was an accident, that he would change one day and see the wrong of his ways rather than fight for herself and give up on a love to a man who−in all honesty−gave up on her a long time ago. That kind of love has lost all meaning. It is no love at all.”
“So ye rather not love at all?” her husband asked, but his eyes held more than the question that left his lips. In his gaze, Henrietta read the need to know, and yet, also the fear to learn that they would never have a future together.
Henrietta smiled. “No.”
The moment the words left her lips, such honest relief washed over his face that her heart opened to him a little more.
“I suppose I’ve never truly allowed myself to love,” Henrietta admitted, feeling strangely liberated to be able to share her darkest secrets not only with herself but also with her husband. “Not completely at least. I’ve held my brother at arm’s length and my friend as well.” Anna. The name echoed in her head, and guilt flooded Henrietta’s heart at the thought of what she had put her friend through. Hopefully, it was not too late to make amends. “I never told them how I felt. I never allowed myself to even admit it to myself. Whenever I used the word love, I didn’t quite mean it.” Lifting her gaze off the sheets, she met her husband’s eyes. “But I want to. I really want to.”
“I’m glad,” he whispered and once again reached for her hand. “And I am relieved that ye’re willing to share this with me. To tell ye the truth, ‘tis disheartening to fight a battle without knowing yer enemy.”
“I suppose it is,” Henrietta agreed. “I’m sorry for making this so difficult for you. However, simply because I want to change does not mean I can.” Swallowing, she held his gaze. “It’ll take time…and patience.”
“I know.” A deep smile came to his face. “But it will be worth it.”
Chapter Twenty-Five − An Inspiring Love
After her husband had been called away, Henrietta ventured down to the rose garden and sat down on the granite bench by the small water fountain. In her hand, she held a letter from Anna. For the millionth time, she turned it from side to side, trying to glimpse the words written on the paper within. Of course, it was a futile attempt, and yet, Henrietta could not quite bring herself to open it.
Only last night, she had finally come to realise how her fears had affected not only her own life but also Anna’s. The advice she had given her back when Anna had gotten married had been harsh and unrelenting, not taking into account that Anna and her husband were not the same people her parents had been. Back then, however, Henrietta had not been able to see that.
How had Anna reacted to her questions? Henrietta wondered, once more turning the envelope in her hand. Had she been furious? Or had she welcomed Henrietta’s attempt at reconciliation?
Remembering how Anna had come to visit her before she had left for Scotland, Henrietta hoped that her friend was able to see past Henrietta’s earlier attitude.
With her eyes fixed on the small envelope, Henrietta took a deep breath, then quickly opened it before her courage could fail her. Unfolding the sheet of paper, she glanced at the finely written words, her eyes sweeping over the letter as though trying to determine the tone of its message. Then Henrietta returned her gaze to the top and began to read, a slight tremble in the hands that held the paper.
My dearest Henrietta,
Allow me to set your mind at ease and assure you that I never believed you would intentionally ruin my happiness. I always knew that a dark secret lived in your past, and although I’d wished many times that you’d shared it with me, I understood that some secrets can haunt you in a way that prevent you from recognising the allies you have.
I assure you I’ve always been your friend, and I always will be. Of course, I was saddened by the course our friendship had taken, but I always reminded myself to be hopeful. I prayed that one day you’d find someone to confide in, someone who would stand beside you and face the darkness that threatened to chase even the last ray of sun from your life. Do I dare hope that you have found that someone in your husband?
From the questions you asked, I felt compelled to believe so, and it makes my heart soar. I always wished that you would find someone worthy of your love and trust, someone who would show you that love is not always followed by pain and loss.
My heart weeps for your baby sister and for you as well. Looking at my own daughter, I cannot understand how any mother could choose anyone else, even her husband, over her own child. Therefore, I cannot offer you an explanation for I have none. I can only assure you that not all mothers are like that, not even those deeply in love with their husbands.
To answer your question: no, my husband has never made me regret that I placed my trust in him. We are who we are. We love and we fight, but never without respect. As much as I desire his, he also burns for mine. Remember that. Whether we are men or women, we all want to be loved and respected, understood and accepted for who we are.
Yes, I am happy, deliriously so, and I consider myself very fortunate.
Please, write back and allow me to be a part of your life. I yearn to hear what kind of man your husband is and even more so how he found a way into your heart.
Today is truly a wonderful day filled with hope and promise, and yet, I miss you dearly.
Your friend always and forever,
Anna
As the lines blurred before her eyes, Henrietta pulled a handkerchief from her pocket. Dabbing away the tears, she stared at her friend’s eloquent words, and for the first time since they had parted in anger, Henrietta did allow herself to admit that she missed Anna. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to have her friend right here sitting on the bench beside her! If only−
“There she is.”
Startled out of her thoughts, Henrietta lifted her head, surprised to see a young couple hurrying toward her. Although the delighted glow on their faces suggested a close acquaintance at the very least, Henrietta could not recall ever having met them.
Hand in hand, they walked toward her, their steps quickening as though impatient to reach her side.
Still confused, Henrietta folded up the letter and blinked back the tears that threatened. Then she lifted her head and waited, somewhat curious what this was about.
“Are ye her?” the young wo
man asked, hopeful eyes darting back and forth between Henrietta and the young man at her side. He, too, seemed excited, his hand clutching hers tightly as though afraid to be parted for even a short moment.
“Who?” Henrietta asked, raking her mind for a memory of these two radiant faces that looked at her as though she was the answer to their prayers.
“The chief’s wife?” the man inquired while the woman appeared to be holding her breath.
“I am, yes.”
At her words, a mixture of relief and unadulterated joy washed over their faces. The woman sighed with delight, and relinquishing the man’s hand, she sat down on the bench beside Henrietta, her face glowing like the morning sun. “Ever since we heard, we wanted to meet ye. Ye’re our inspiration,” she said as her hands fluttered every which way as though unable to convey all she held in her heart. “Without yer courage, we wouldna have found our own. ‘Tis because of ye that we’re married today.”
Completely at a loss, Henrietta stared at the young woman, certain that they were mistaking her for someone else. However, her last comment stirred something familiar in Henrietta, and squinting her eyes, she glanced from her to the man still standing beside them, excitedly wringing his hands. “You are Fiona and Liam, are you not?” she asked. “I heard that you’d run away. Your fathers are very worried.” She stopped. “Wait, did you say you were married?”
“Aye,” Liam confirmed, his eyes shining like Fiona’s as they gazed at each other. Then he swallowed and returned his gaze to Henrietta. “We know that our decision will cause…misgivings,” he admitted, then held out his hand to Fiona, who immediately rose from the bench to stand beside him, “but we’re in love, and we refuse to bow our heads any longer.”
Taking a deep breath, Henrietta felt as though she had suddenly been swept into a lovers’ tragedy that she had no connection to whatsoever. “I’m sorry for the struggles you’ve faced,” she said, her eyes shifting back and forth between them, trying to determine what it was they were asking, “but I’m afraid I do not understand.”
“It was yer love,” Fiona beamed, “yer courage that finally convinced us to fight for our love as well.” A deep smile on her face, she looked up into Liam’s eyes, his own a match to hers. “Our fathers sought to keep us apart since the day we were born.” She turned her eyes back to Henrietta, wanting her to understand. “Some old feud stands between them. However, they refuse to talk about it. For a long time, we obeyed their ruling, hoping that time would change their minds.” A grateful smile came to her lips. “But when we heard what ye did, …”
“What do you mean, what I did?”
“…we knew we could no longer deny our hearts’ desire,” Fiona went on. “Knowing that our fathers would never give their consent, we ran away and got married before they could stop us.”
Shaking her head, Henrietta tried to sort through the myriad of information she had just received. “Yes, my husband told me about your problem. However, I fail to see what that has to do with me.”
As though she had just asked them what colour the sky was, the young couple stared at her. “Ye fought for yer love,” Fiona said, admiration shining in her eyes. “Even though ye’re English and he’s a Scot, ye didna bow to obligation. Ye defied everyone and got married. Ye didna allow anyone to stop ye.”
As it was now Henrietta’s turn to stare at them, Liam nodded in agreement with his wife’s words. “When we heard what ye did, we knew it was not only possible but worth it to fight for our love as well. Ye gave us the courage to stand up to our fathers, and we came to thank ye for it and to ask a favour.”
Chapter Twenty-Six − For All Intents and Purposes
Drawing a deep breath, Henrietta lifted her hand and knocked on the door. From inside, her husband’s voice called for her to enter, and with trepidation in her heart, Henrietta stepped across the threshold to his study.
After everything that had happened between them in the last few days, Henrietta felt nervous around him. She had opened up her heart to him, and a part of her still lived in fear of what he might do with the knowledge she had entrusted to him. On top of that, she had only just now accepted a request addressed to her because of a misunderstanding, and yet, Henrietta had not had the heart to tell Fiona and Liam the truth about her own so called love story.
As the door opened, her husband turned toward it; the moment their eyes met, the strain fell from his face, and a soft smile tugged on his lips. In answer, Henrietta felt her own heart skip a beat as delighted tingles ran down her back, and she had to take a deep breath to steady her nerves.
Something had definitely changed between them.
Remembering that they were not alone in the room, Connor cleared his throat and turned back to Alastair, waiting rather impatiently in the armchair on this side of the desk. “Would ye give us a moment?”
“Certainly,” Alastair grumbled as he rose from the chair. Walking past Henrietta, he glared down at her, and despite what she had learnt about him from Deidre, she could not help but feel threatened by him.
When the door finally closed behind Alastair, Henrietta looked at her husband and not knowing how to begin said, “He does not like me, does he?”
For a moment, his eyes darted to the closed door before he shrugged. “Alastair is a complicated man. Do not take it personally.”
Wringing her hands, Henrietta took a step forward, then stopped, her eyes glancing from her husband to his desk, to the window and the floor.
“We have to begin anew, do we not?” he asked into the silence, and when Henrietta lifted her eyes off the ground, a soft smile played on his lips. “Before, we knew how to talk to each other. Now, ‘tis different.”
Henrietta nodded. “It is, yes.”
“Maybe ye could tell me why ye came to see me,” her husband suggested before a mischievous twinkle came to his eyes. “I doubt ye came because ye couldna bear to be parted from me a moment longer.”
A soft laugh escaped her, and Henrietta felt her muscles relax. “Frankly, no, that wasn’t the reason.”
Clutching his hands to his chest, his eyes widened in mock outrage. “Ye wound me, my lady.”
“I had no intention of doing so,” Henrietta said laughing, her words, however, sounded heart-felt, and the look on her husband’s face told her that he had noticed as well. At his open smile, a hint of self-consciousness crept up her cheeks, and Henrietta quickly cleared her throat and said, “The reason I came is because I met Fiona and Liam in the rose garden.”
“Ye did?” Connor asked in surprise. “I told them to keep their distance until their fathers arrive and we can sort this out.”
“Well, they’re determined to…” Henrietta frowned as a thought struck. Taking a step closer, she asked, “Did they tell you what inspired them to run off together?”
Connor chuckled, “To tell ye the truth, I rather growled at them when they were brought to see me this morning. Although I understand their plight, I am obligated to remain neutral. It would serve no one to encourage youngsters to run off whenever they disagree with their parents. That being said, I have every intention of convincing their fathers to give their consent.” As he spoke, his eyes held hers, and Henrietta saw his need for her to understand his motivations and not mistake the duties he called his own for a cold heart.
“Thank you,” she said, acknowledging his efforts, and the relief on his face told her that she had not misjudged him.
“Well then, what did they tell ye?” he asked, offering her the armchair that Alastair had vacated a few minutes ago. “Or were ye sworn to secrecy, Lass?”
“Not at all.” Sitting down, Henrietta tried to find the courage to honour her promise. “On the contrary, they asked me to speak to you on their behalf.”
“I see.” Reclaiming his own chair, Connor folded his hands, his forearms resting on the table top. “I have to admit I am surprised that they sought ye out.”
“As was I,” Henrietta admitted, her eyes not quite meeting his. “Ho
wever, from their point of view, I suppose it is a reasonable request.”
Her husband’s brows rose into arches. “And what is their point of view?”
Closing her eyes for but a moment, Henrietta felt an embarrassed smile tug up the corners of her mouth.
“Do not keep me in suspense, Lass,” her husband demanded. “From the look on yer face, I have to assume something rather…indecent.”
Biting her lower lip, Henrietta met his eyes. “Apparently, it was our love story that gave them the courage to fight for their own.”
Her husband’s mouth fell open, and his eyes went wide before laughter spilled from his mouth.
Surprised at his reaction, Henrietta shook her head, feeling a hint of displeasure. “Would you not consider ours a love story?” she tried to ask mockingly.
“Mine? Aye,” he said, meeting her eyes openly. “Yers?” Holding her gaze, he remained quiet for a moment. “I do not presume to know. Does that offend ye, Lass?”
Averting her eyes, Henrietta took a deep breath, her fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve. No one had ever made her blush the way her husband did. Despite their short marriage, he seemed to know her better than anyone. Annoyingly so, she had to admit. “No,” she finally said, lifting her head and meeting his eyes. “It does not offend me. After all, it is the truth.”
Nodding, her husband’s eyes searched hers. “Maybe it wasna a love match,” he said, “but that doesna mean it won’t be.”
Henrietta swallowed as the intimacy of his words shook her to her core.
The physical act of love-making had always appeared as the most intimate connection between a man and a woman. However, now, seated, with the desk between them, they could not escape into an embrace or a kiss. Instead, they faced each other openly, their eyes revealing their innermost thoughts and desires, hopes and fears.
