by Wolf, Bree
What had he done to deserve such terror be directed at him? Matthew wondered, knowing even as the question rose in his mind that he was not being fair. After all, it was not he who had taught her to be afraid. And yet, he could not expect her to unlearn in a single moment what had been drilled into her for years. A few kind words were not enough to conquer the fear that shone in her eyes. It was as though it had a mind of its own, a separate will, one she had no control over.
The look of utter fear in her eyes almost brought Matthew to his knees. Had she struck him hard across the face, it would have hurt less. Unbidden, an image of his mother rose before his inner eye, of the many times he had seen her back away from his father when anger had seized him. Fear and terror had been in her eyes then, and even as a child, Matthew had wondered about the nature of his parents’ relationship. Was there supposed to be fear in a marriage?
Still, no one had ever acted as though the kind of marriage his parents had was not perfectly normal. And yet, it had always bothered him. After all, fear meant that there was no love, did it not? How could anyone love someone they feared?
Looking at his wife, Matthew could have groaned in agony. If she feared him, she would never be able to love him, would she? One did not allow for the other.
As much as he had known that she would be fearful, that she would need time, that she was scarred as Beth had said, Matthew had not been prepared to see her react to him in such a way. And as much as he tried not to, in that moment, he saw himself as his father, intimidating his wife, watching her shrink from him in fear.
Taking a step back, he all but hung his head in defeat. Perhaps walking in his father’s footsteps was a curse he could not escape. Perhaps it was too late, and he had done too much that could not be undone. Turning toward the door, Matthew halted his steps when a tiny spark of hope claimed his attention. No, he could not walk out the door without declaring his position, without assuring her that indeed she had nothing to fear from him. Even if she could not believe him, he had to say the words. It was all he could do.
As he turned to look at her once again, her body tensed anew, and for a moment, Matthew felt tempted to ask her to slap him hard across the face in order to offset the pain that radiated in his heart. Still, he held himself back, willing the expression on his face to underline his words. “I can see that you’re afraid.”
Again, she tensed as though he was striding toward her with a raised hand.
“And I cannot fault you for it. I know my words might ring hollow to you as you have reason to believe that men cannot be trusted, but I cannot leave this room without assuring you that I am not like your father, nor am I like mine. You have nothing to fear from me, and I promise from this day on, I shall assure your well-being, your happiness with everything I have, everything I am. If need be, I shall give my life to guard yours, and I will gladly take upon me any pain that might come your way to prevent it from hurting you…for I could not bear to see you suffer.”
Seeing her wide-eyed stare, Matthew nodded his head to her. “You have my word, and I will do what I can to prove that it can be trusted.” Inhaling a deep breath, he swallowed. “Good night, my lady. Sleep well…and safely. I promise that I shall not cross the threshold into your chamber without your express invitation.” Before she could say a word or shrink back yet again, Matthew turned on his heel and left, hoping that at least a small part of her wanted to believe him.
Chapter Fourteen – A New Life
The moment the door closed behind her husband, Adelaide sank to the floor in front of the hearth, her breath coming fast and her limbs trembling, unable to hold her upright any longer. Bright spots danced before her eyes as her chest rose and fell with each rapid intake of breath. Still, her head began to spin, and before long, Adelaide allowed herself to slide down completely, her head coming to rest on the soft rug.
Tears poured from her eyes, running down the side of her face and into the rug below her head. Slowly, ever so slowly, the panic began to recede, removing its talons from her heart and allowing her to breathe more calmly.
Only then did Adelaide’s mind take her back to the words her husband had spoken to her that night. With the threat removed from her room, her mind could focus once again, and her heart did not quake with fear and terror any longer. Clarity came, and with it, a feeling of shame.
Had she truly done him wrong? Had his words been genuine? Honest? From the heart?
When he had seen her terror, when he had realised that she feared him, anger had sparked in his eyes. She had been certain of it. Nothing else could Adelaide detect with such certainty than anger. It was a survival instinct, one developed over years and years of living in fear. For the sooner she was able to discern another’s anger, the easier it was to quell or at least deflect. This ability, though not free of error, had served her well.
And yet, it seemed to have blinded her to all else but anger. Was she no longer capable of seeing other emotions? Did kindness and honesty slip by her? Certainly, she had no trouble detecting them in women like her grandmother or Lady Elton. However, men…men were different. Always had they set themselves apart in certain ways. Always had Adelaide seen the difference in their position. Men had power. Women did not. Men could do what they wished. Women had to live with the consequences. Men could not be trusted. Women could.
But was her thinking correct? Again, her grandmother’s urgings to be honest with her husband rang in her mind. What if she had been honest? What if she had told him straight-out that she feared him and why? What if she had asked him to be patient? How would he have reacted?
Her mother’s opinion was clear on the matter. And yet, her husband had retreated. He had left her chamber…even though she had not asked him. Somehow he had seen her desire to be left alone and complied. Indeed, the realisation that she feared him had come as a shock to him. Only too well did Adelaide remember the way his face had paled, the way his muscles had tensed, the way his eyes had darkened.
The realisation had been like a blow to his chest, knocking the air from his lungs.
But why? Why did it bother him? It had certainly never bothered her father. Was it not what husbands did, terrify their wives into submission? Adelaide had seen it many times. Or at least the subtle signs of a wife fearing her husband. His anger. She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was not only her own parents. It made her wonder who else suffered silently at home and only knew how to hide the signs when stepping out in public. What was the truth? And what was a lie?
Closing her eyes, Adelaide inhaled a slow, deep breath. She could no longer tell. The line between truth and lie had blurred, leaving her in ever-present doubt.
On her hands and knees, Adelaide finally crawled over to the bed, her limbs heavy as lead. Climbing under the covers, she curled up, hugging a feather-soft pillow to her chest as tears of loss and helplessness slowly ran down her cheeks. Exhaustion washed over her, her heart and mind aching with the overwhelming developments of the past sennight. And yet, sleep would not come.
Long into the night, Adelaide lay awake, feeling her eyes begin to sting with lack of sleep. Her body ached, and her heart longed for the warmth of the little girl who had often climbed into bed with her when monsters had chased her from her own room.
When the sun finally rose, Adelaide was still tossing and turning, hoping to find a reprieve from this constant turmoil, but sleep continued to refuse her. Finally, she decided to rise early, unwilling to prolong this agony. Perhaps the activity of her morning preparations would do her good. Something familiar. Something to give her a sense of normalcy.
As Adelaide sat at her vanity, looking at her pale face and red-rimmed eyes in the mirror as her maid worked on her hair, she reminded herself that she would soon be facing her husband as well as his mother across the breakfast table. Again, tears stung her eyes at the thought of her own mother, her grandmother and above all little Tillie. Would she ever learn how to live without them?
During breakfast, Adelai
de kept her gaze down, answering her mother-in-law’s questions after her comfort politely but in a rather monotonous way. Her mind felt heavy with fatigue, and she had trouble focusing on maintaining a politely interested, while still indifferent demeanour. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see her husband’s gaze travel to her again and again, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally spoke. “I wanted to speak to you about changes I’m planning to make to the house.”
At his words, his mother’s gaze flew up, a touch of surprise on her face.
Turning his head, her husband gave his mother a small smile before turning his attention back to Adelaide. “This…this still feels like my father’s house,” he said with a sigh, and yet, the muscles in his jaw tensed with suppressed anger.
Adelaide felt her skin crawl.
“I do believe it would do us good to make it our own,” he said, his voice once gentler as he looked at her. “I want this to be a true home for all of us.”
Feeling her husband’s gaze on her, Adelaide forced her eyes up, worried that he might find her unresponsiveness offensive.
When their eyes met, a soft smile curled up the corners of his mouth. “I do want you to be happy here,” he whispered as though they were alone at the table. “I want us to be happy.” For a second, his gaze darted to his mother, and Adelaide saw a gentleness in the way he looked at her that had not been there before.
Perhaps she simply had not seen it because she had not been looking, afraid of what she might find.
“I’d like that,” Adelaide whispered, attempting a smile of her own, knowing that it fell far short and hoping that he would not notice.
“Feel free to make any changes you want,” he continued before shifting his gaze from her to his mother and back again. “Perhaps we should all talk about what we would like to do.”
Sighing, his mother smiled. “That is a marvellous idea, my son. I should truly like to brighten up the place a little.” Looking at Adelaide, she added, “And I’m certain you would like new furniture in your bedchamber. I admit that I never cared for it. It always seemed daunting and dark.” She shrugged. “But my husband preferred it, and there was no changing his mind.”
Adelaide once again felt reminded of her own mother’s marriage as she saw the look of resignation in her mother-in-law’s eyes. “Perhaps,” was all Adelaide could mumble in reply as she tried to recall the furniture her husband’s mother so disapproved of, only to realise that with all the turmoil in her heart she had barely taken notice.
Carefully, Adelaide glanced at her husband from under her eyelashes, wondering about the two different faces he often portrayed. Although anger seemed to be strong in him, he did have a breathtakingly gentle side. Or was it only a mask to get her to drop her guard? But why would he bother? After all, her position was by far the weaker one. He did not need her approval. All he needed was her obedience, and she could only hope that she would soon convince him of her commitment to it.
From what her mother-in-law had said−as well as her husband the previous night−Adelaide wondered about her late father-in-law.
From what she had gathered, he seemed to have been a man like her own father. The evidence of that still rested in his widow’s eyes and lingered about the house. And although her husband did wish to make changes to the oppressive atmosphere that still clung to the walls, Adelaide wondered how far he resembled his own father. After all, she knew only too well how a son could follow in his father’s footsteps even without his intention. Her own brother, John, came to act like their father more and more every day.
Over the next few days, Adelaide spent most of her time evading her husband. Oh, she knew it was foolish and childish and possibly dangerous. However, alone in an unfamiliar house with only strangers around her, Adelaide felt almost cornered as though danger lurked in every nook and cranny. Still, the more she continued to evade her husband, the more she felt like a hunted animal as she silently walked around the house, trying her best to prevent drawing any attention to herself.
And yet, he did not confront her. Neither did he seek her out in her chamber. He kept his word, which only served to bring a new ache to Adelaide’s heart. Was she doing him wrong? Was he a truly kind-hearted man who deserved better? But if that were the case, why did his body often tremble with suppressed anger? Where did he get the bruises on his knuckles if not from a physical altercation?
Adelaide’s head spun with all the questions that assaulted her, and her heart knew not what to feel. All she knew for certain was that she missed her family. Not daring to call on them lest she cross paths with her father, Adelaide often looked out the window at the street, hoping to see her father’s carriage draw up at the kerb. Still, days passed without a word, and Adelaide told herself that they were merely giving her time to settle into her new life. Certainly, they would come to call on her soon.
Adelaide told herself all that and more, and yet, it did not ease the loneliness in her heart. So, when the butler found her in the library one afternoon and announced that she had a visitor, Adelaide all but flew from the room, not even bothering to ask who it was despite the questions that raced through her head. Was Tillie with them? Oh, how she longed to feel the little girl’s soft embrace!
“Oh, how I’ve missed you!” Adelaide exclaimed as she sailed through the door into the drawing room. However, the smile on her face died a quick death when her gaze fell neither on her mother or grandmother but on her father instead.
Never would she have expected him to call on her! What a fool she was!
Despite the fact that his clothes were in order, her father looked as he always did. His eyes were blood-shot, and every pore in his body seemed to ooze the stench of spirits. And yet, he held himself tall, shoulders back and chin raised as he glared down at her as though she were the source of all his troubles. Had he been out gambling the previous night? Had he lost money he did not have? Was that where the desperate look in his eyes came from?
Adelaide swallowed, momentarily contemplating fleeing the room. But flee where? There was no one here who would come to her aid. After all, this was her father. Why would anyone think it odd that he would come to call on her?
“Hello, Father,” Adelaide finally said, trying to keep her voice steady as she offered him a seat. “Would you like some tea?”
Remaining on his feet, her father continued to glare at her, his eyes narrowing as though trying to determine what she hoped to accomplish. Apparently, he could not see that all Adelaide did hope to accomplish was to protect herself from his anger. “Is your new husband to your liking?” he asked in a snarl.
Adelaide almost jumped out of her skin. Swallowing, she looked at her father, trying to gauge what he wanted to hear.
Her father continued to stride around the room, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “I never would have thought that you’d ever betray me.” His voice was low as he spoke, but all the more menacing for it.
Adelaide froze, the little hairs on the back of her neck rising in alarm. “I assure you, Father, I had no intention of ever−”
“Don’t lie to me!” he thundered, angry feet carrying him closer. “You plotted against me! You forced my hand. I’m the one who ought to have chosen your husband. It was my right as your father.”
Swallowing, Adelaide kept her eyes downcast, a part of her wishing she had the courage to contradict him. After all, he had made his choice, had he not? He had chosen to offer her hand in a game of cards and lost. Everything else that had followed had merely been a natural consequence. And yet, Adelaide had to admit that she had indeed plotted. Would her father truly have been happier if she had married Mr. Harkin? What would that have gained him?
“I had an agreement with Harkin,” her father continued in his tirade. “The man was to provide us with funds to save our estate, and all he wanted in return was your hand and my assistance in introducing him to upper society. Was that so much to ask?” He was all but yelling at her now, and Adelaide prayed
that her mother-in-law was nowhere within earshot. How humiliating would it be to have her happen upon such a scene? It was certainly bad enough that at least one or two servants was overhearing this.
“Now, that this deal is off,” her father continued undeterred, “we need to find another solution.”
Looking up, Adelaide felt her skin crawl with dread.
Her father’s eyes focused on hers as he stepped closer, bringing his face level with hers. “You will ask your husband for money.”
Adelaide sucked in a sharp breath.
“Tell him it’s for you. For new dresses and such,” her father advised, rolling his eyes as he continued. “He will not be able to deny you anything. And if he seems reluctant, use your…female assets to get what we need. Do you understand?”
“I cannot do this,” Adelaide stammered without thinking before clasping a hand over her mouth in shock.
Her father’s face, too, showed the same surprise. “What did you say?” he growled, a threat clear in his voice.
Although a part of Adelaide began to suspect that her father was right, that her husband would not hesitate to give her anything she asked for, she could not in good conscience rob him in order to provide for her father’s gambling needs. “He would refuse me,” she stammered. “He only married me because−” Her voice got stuck in her throat.
…because Lady Elton and her husband asked him to, and perhaps he owed them a debt.
Although Lady Elton had never said such a thing, Adelaide could not fathom why a young man would give up his future in order to help a friend. After all, with his new title and in possession of a fortune of his own, her new husband had no need for her.
Not even her dowry would tempt him.
Nor her family’s former acclaim.
Or their dwindling connections.
Only a man like Mr. Harkin would still see value in those. But not Adelaide’s husband, and she realised that it was not knowing why he had agreed to marry her that kept her from taking a step toward him. If she did not know his motivation, how could she hope to trust anything he told her? How could she trust his kindness above his anger?
