by Abby Ayles
He tried to tell himself he could not be blamed. His demons had caught up with him and temporarily rid him of his reason. From the window in the hallway, he had seen someone ride into out into the fields.
He had instantly been alarmed, his mental pain returning to overwhelm him. Quickly, he had gone to the stables, wanting to know the identity of the rider.
Even though in his heart he guessed who it must be, he had refused to believe it.
Until Roy had told him. He had been livid! He would have gone after her himself if he had not been too taken up with scolding Roy for his carelessness.
He had thought of a thousand ways in which things could go wrong. All of them had left him reliving the darkness that haunted him still.
He had simply been afraid. For her, for himself. She had already lost someone, in the worst possible way. She should have known better he had told himself.
Then she had returned. He had not realized how fearsome he must have appeared to her. Not until he heard the tremble in her voice as she spoke to him.
Yet, even after the realization, what had he done?
He heaved a sigh.
It would not do to sit in his chamber and wallow in self-recriminations. He must seek her out; he must apologize.
At dinner, he decided. He would beg her forgiveness at dinner.
***
Judith was surprised to find the duke sitting at the head of the table when she and Amy arrived at the dining hall for dinner that night.
Mr. Beauregard had given her no warning, so she certainly had not been expecting to see him there.
She tried to catch the butler’s eye, but he would not look at her. Of course, he knew what had transpired.
As soon as they reached the table, the duke rose to his feet and proceeded to help pull out their chairs.
“My lady,” he greeted her.
Even more astonished by his pleasant behavior, she answered simply, “Your Grace.”
She muttered her thanks as she settled into her seat. When he pushed her chair in, she tingled all over from his proximity.
Earlier that evening, she had been so worried about making certain she had not cost Roy his livelihood, that she had failed to notice the effect her host had upon her.
However, as she thought about it, she realized that she had indeed been affected by his presence then, also.
Her breath had become shorter, her skin had burned, and her stomach had churned. Even her heart had begun to beat as Enora had moved; in a swift gallop.
Why is that? What it about this dark lord that he should affect me so?
As he returned to his seat, she found her voice again.
“I did not know you would be joining us tonight, Your Grace. We apologize for having kept you waiting.”
“Please, Lady Judith, there is no need. I was not waiting. Besides, you and Miss Mitchell here, arrived perfectly on time; it was I who was early. Thomas would have informed you of my joining you, but he, too, was unaware of my intention until a few moments ago.”
“Oh, I see,” was all Judith said.
Dinner was served, and the silence in the room soon became oppressive, filling Judith’s ears.
It was such an uncomfortable experience. She could barely enjoy the meal, as she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
His presence overwhelmed her senses but, after the incident at the stables, she was wary of him too, and rightfully so.
This time, she did not look at him. She could not risk being found out and embarrassing herself any more than she already had.
When they had finished their meals, she was thankful.
As their plates were cleared away and were all preparing to leave, she expressed her gratitude.
“Thank you for company at dinner, Your Grace,” she said. The duke nodded.
She made to rise but, as she did, he stopped her.
“My lady, please…”
She paused, her mind beginning to move in circles, wondering what it was that he wanted of her now.
“Is anything the matter, Your Grace?”
“No… Yes…” A sigh broke free.
“I must apologize to you, my lady, for my behavior at the stables. It was untoward and ungentlemanly. I understand I must have hurt your feelings, caused you fear, even. I assure you that was not my intention. I make no excuses. I can only beg your forgiveness.”
Judith’s eyes widened with awe, and suddenly she saw the man in another light. Sudden warmth suffused her, and her heart tingled in her chest.
She hadn’t expected an apology and certainly not one so genuine and heartfelt. As she overcame her astonishment, she replied, “I assure you, my lord, all is forgiven. In fact, I there was no offence.”
He held her gaze then, and what she saw in those dark pools made her heart ache for him. How could one ever fault a man like him?
Yes, she had been hurt by his words, but the thing that had affected her more was the fact that he had been afraid … for her. She saw it now, and it filled her with amazement.
“Thank you. You have no inkling of how much peace your graciousness gives me,” he said.
She wished it were peace enough to drive away all his pain, heal his hurt, and quell his fears. Sadly, she did not think peace would ever be enough.
So, she smiled and nodded. “That gladdens me so.”
There was a pause.
“Have you been in an accident, my lord? Is that why you were so … upset?”
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she awaited his response, not knowing what to expect.
There was a long silence, and she almost wished she could take back her words. Bu then he said, “Yes, I have. It is why I know better than anyone, how easily they happen, and how much pain and suffering they leave behind.”
She would have probed his meaning further, but he rose to his feet.
“Thank you for finding it in your heart to forgive my behavior, my lady. I bid you a good night’s rest.”
Judith watched his retreating back as he walked away from her for the second time in one day.
She wished she knew the truth behind it all. She wished she knew what had truly happened and the terrible loss he had evidently suffered.
More importantly, she wished she could ease him of his pain and teach him to smile again.
But was that even possible?
Chapter 14
The days grew longer, and time seemed to fade away. Judith found herself settling nicely into Dunham, so much so that it began to feel like home.
With her cheerful manner, she endeared herself to the entire household. Even Mr. Beauregard didn’t seem so cold towards her anymore. Once or twice, she could swear she had caught his lips lifting in a smile.
The servants had come to adore her for her pleasant company and appreciative demeanor. They smiled when she appeared and took their time to converse with her.
In the beginning, she hadn’t realized how much she was starting to affect them. However, it was soon apparent to her that she was becoming a beacon of light spreading warmth throughout the dark, cold manor.
As this became increasingly evident, Amy tried to call her attention to it, advising her that it was not wise to make herself indispensable, as this was not their home, and they were bound to leave soon.
Amy’s words had very little effect, as the maid herself scarcely had time for Judith any longer. Out of gratitude, she had taken to helping the servants with their duties.
In her absence, Judith felt lonely and continued to seek camaraderie amongst the staff.
The terrible weather appeared to have ceased for good, and even though the sun had become an unchanging part of their days, repairs to the roads continued, so they still could not leave.
Judith sometimes wondered how it was possible to feel so much comfort in a home so strange to her.
She did not fail to realize that, in leaving Charleveaux, she sought adventure, and their time in Dunham had turned out to be exactly that. The manor had become an important par
t of her story, one she would tell her children and grandchildren. Her life had utterly changed from the uneventful wasteland it had used to be.
Other times, she wondered what it would be like if she chose to remain at Dunham. Of course, she was aware it was a foolhardy thought.
She did not belong there. Her family certainly would hear nothing of it.
Beyond that, she could not live so far away from home. They had only come here by chance, and no matter how homely Dunham was beginning to feel, the truth remained that they were nothing but strangers.
They did not belong here.
There was the matter of the master … he had said he would share his abode with her until it was safe to travel.
There was no reason for an unmarried lady such as herself to stay with a widower whose sorrows were boundless.
As she pondered these thoughts, she came to the decision that perhaps, it was time to start thinking and planning the rest of her journey.
The longer she remained here, the more her head would fill with such silly notions and hopeless dreams.
With this in mind, she rose to find Mr. Beauregard.
She found him where he often was, at the balcony in the east wing, smoking a pipe and listening to the birds’ chirruping.
He felt her presence before she spoke.
“A pleasant day, is it not, my lady?” He asked, not sparing her a glance. “These days, the fields are so beautiful. Dunham is truly remarkable. Things are changing. The hallways are brighter, the servants smile more, I no longer have need for my coat. Even the master’s countenance seems to have improved. It has been a while since we experienced anything such.”
As he stopped, he turned to look at her, dropping his head in a bow. When he straightened, he looked her in the eye.
“It does cause one to wonder, I’ll say.” There was that hint of a smile again.
Judith found herself wishing she could see him smile, if only once.
“How are you today, Lady Judith?”
“Very well, Mr. Beauregard, thank you.” She had heard his words loud and clear and now held his meaningful gaze. She could not help but wonder if he was trying to tell her something.
He nodded.
“May I help you?” he asked again.
It was her turn to bob her head. “Very much so. You have always been helpful, Mr. Beauregard, and I thank you for every kindness.” She paused to drag in a breath.
“I simply wanted to ask if you know how far the men have got with the road repairs and if you will soon be able to tell me when we can leave.”
His brows raised. “Already weary of our company, my lady? You should not be in such a hurry to leave. I have come to see that the people of Dunham would miss you. You have made such a mark during your visit.”
Judith smiled, feeling her heart flutter with warmth. Mr. Beauregard was not the kind of man to offer flattery. For this reason, she took his words to her heart.
“I do hope it is a good one. Thank you. However, I am not in a hurry and, in truth, neither am I eager to leave. It is only, I have been here a while now. I never intended to stay for this long. I am just passing by. I shall have to reach my destination at some point. I thought, the earlier, the better.”
Mr. Beauregard seemed to think about it for a moment.
“I cannot say that I disagree with that … yes, the repairs are still underway. We only know the extent of the damage caused on our lands, not on the neighboring ones. Beyond Sawbrook, we cannot be so certain of the condition of the roads. Nevertheless, I reckon you should be able to leave in another fortnight.”
“A fortnight? Goodness! I might as well make Dunham my home.”
She had hoped it would be a matter of days. Another fortnight would further weaken her resolve to leave.
Yet, she must. She was sure to start missing her father and mother soon, and her Aunt Tia would be so worried.
She was startled out of her thoughts when she heard what sounded like a chuckle.
She looked at Mr. Beauregard, frowning and shocked. No, surely, it could not be?
If it were, she could not tell, for his face was immediately somber once more, revealing nothing.
“I do not know if His Grace would object to that, my lady. There are more than enough rooms here.”
She realized, too late, that this was Mr. Beauregard’s way of teasing.
“I would not like to overstay my welcome.”
“No. You would not now, I’m sure.”
There was a pause; she shook her head. They remained in silence for a moment.
Finally, Mr. Beauregard spoke. “Is there anything more you would like to ask, my lady?”
Grateful to have been reminded, she answered swiftly.
“Yes. I would like to know if there has been any word from my parents or my aunt Tia?”
Mr. Beauregard shook his head and puffed out smoke.
“I am afraid not. Rest assured you shall be the first to know the moment word arrives.”
That was more than enough for her.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Beauregard. You are most kind. Well then, I suppose I shall leave you to enjoy the rest of your pipe in peace.”
“Good day, my lady,” he replied, bowing slightly.
Judith turned to leave. As she walked away, she decided to take a different turn about the house. It was not quite familiar, but she was certain she would find her way.
Moments later, her ears began to strain, as a beautiful melody began to reach her from her afar.
As she drew closer, the music grew louder.
She was astonished by the sound of it.
It was beautiful, yet sad, terribly sad. Whoever played the pianoforte with such skill, it was as though they plucked the strings of her heart.
Soon, she found the room that was the source of the magical music. She stopped to find the door slightly ajar.
She waited outside for a moment, contemplating the wisdom of entering. For all she knew, it could be the ghost of the late duchess, drawing her to her doom. She shook her head and chuckled at the silly thought.
But there was another nagging thought on her mind. Had she been wrong to even consider remaining at Dunham? Now that she thought of it, whatever could be the reason for wanting to stay?
Finally, she made a decision.
Strengthening her resolve, she grasped the handle, pushed the door open as quietly as she could and stepped inside.
She raised her eyes and when she beheld the sight before her, she stilled.
She tried to remind herself to breathe, to teach her heart to beat again.
It was the most beautiful, yet surprising thing she had seen in a very long while.
It was a ballroom, beautifully decorated with ribbons and flowers. At the center of the room, hung a mighty chandelier.
The windows were many, tall and large, and the doors to another balcony opened onto a lush green garden.
It was one of the places Mr. Beauregard had refrained from showing them. Yet, as magnificent as it was, it was not the room that stole her breath.
No, it was the man seated before her at the piano.
Of all the people she might have imagined to be the source of the music, she never would have thought it might be the duke himself.
There he was, dressed in black as always. He was engrossed in the music, eyes closed, face lifted to the heavens as he played.
His hands, long, firm, and strong, moved delicately over the keys with such mastery that her jaw dropped in astonishment.
It was quite the vision.
She could see the emotion written over him. She could feel it in the ambience.
Whatever piece he was playing, it came from the depths of his heart.
She remained where she was, careful not to interrupt or make him aware of her presence.
And she listened. To every note, every unsaid word. She knew that it was an ode, for the one he had lost, and for himself.
Judith had watched many great perfor
mances, yet none came close to this.
He was so skilled. The music and its meaning reached deep inside of her, tugging at every part of her.
In her heart, emotions warred. Love and pain. Joy and sorrow. And through it all, there was beauty.
