by Wolf, Bree
His eyes were soft, and yet, she saw anguish and deep concern darkening the startling green she had come to love. Gentle hands brushed over her face, down her neck and over her shoulders. “Adelaide,” he whispered, lifting her chin so she would meet his eyes. “Talk to me.”
“He’s dead,” Adelaide whispered, feeling tears stream down her face. “He’s dead because of me.” Then her knees buckled, and she sank into his arms, sobs tearing from her throat.
Holding her tightly, her husband whispered words of comfort in her ear while his hands brushed over her back and down her arms, reminding her that he was there, that she was not alone. A small eternity passed before her sobs grew lighter; she felt herself return from the dark place her father’s death had plunged her into.
“Listen to me,” her husband urged, his green eyes holding hers. “This is not your fault. It may not have been the wisest decision, but your father died because for once he wasn’t thinking of himself, because for once he was looking out for someone he cared about.” A gentle smile came to his lips as he held her. “What he did, he did because he loved you. For him, it was the only way to prove himself to you and to regain some sense of self-respect. He could not have lived with himself otherwise.”
Hearing her husband’s words, Adelaide felt drawn to the deep emotions she saw on his face. He, too, had grown up with a father who had been a cold and selfish man. A man who had died without even attempting to redeem himself. He had died without a last message to his son. There had been no regret, no apology, no declaration of love.
Nothing.
“He loved you,” her husband whispered as the pad of his thumb gently brushed a tear from her cheek. “Hold on to that. Forget the rest.”
Adelaide nodded, feeling fresh tears sting her eyes. For herself. For her father. But also, for her husband.
“After everything he’s done wrong in his life,” Matthew whispered as though they were the only two people in the world, “the loss of his life does not measure up to the loss of his family. His death is a small price to pay for him, and while it is sad for you and your brother, it might be what’s best for him.” He sighed. “I’ve often wondered what would have been if my father had lived. But now I know that after a certain point, it is impossible to forgive oneself, to start over. Even if others, if you and your brother, had been willing to give him another chance, now that he had come to realise the wrong of his ways, he might have been past the point when he could still have forgiven himself.” Inhaling a slow breath, he shrugged. “How do you go on when the person who cannot forgive you is yourself? Your father did what he could to prove that despite everything he’d done, a part of him still loved you more than he loved himself. It is more than my father ever did.” His arms tightened on her as he looked down into her eyes. “Let go of the past, and only remember that he did love you after all. Nothing else matters.”
The sadness that clung to her husband’s eyes told Adelaide how deeply his own father had wounded him and how much he would have wished for a small sign of affection. Yet, there had been none, and Adelaide knew that when Matthew had spoken of the burden of being unable to forgive oneself, he had spoken of himself. For too long, he had held himself accountable for his father’s deeds, for not seeing the truth sooner. It had taken great courage to fight his way out of the darkness, a darkness made of disregard and betrayal, and not succumb to it. He had reclaimed the man he should have been, not losing himself in the aftermath of his father’s death.
Today, Matthew stood tall, and although she could still see the occasional doubt in his eyes, he once again knew who he was. A kind and gentle man, who never failed to offer his help, who protected those who needed him, and who loved with all his heart and soul.
Smiling, Adelaide snuggled closer into his arms. “Take me home,” she whispered, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. “I want to go home.”
Then her knees gave out, and blackness claimed her.
Chapter Thirty-Eight – A Moment of Clarity
Pacing up and down the length of his wife’s bedchamber, Matthew kept glancing at the bed where Adelaide lay sleeping. Her breathing was even, her chest rising and falling, and she looked almost peaceful as she slept. And yet, Matthew could not stop worrying.
The way she had sagged into his arms at the clearing had scared him nearly witless. For a short, heart-stopping moment, he had thought her lost to him.
It had been in that moment that he had realised that no matter what had happened, he could not live without her. He did not care that she had been with Bartholomew. He didn’t care that she had born that man’s child. He did not care that she had kept her secret for so long.
All he cared about was her.
She and their family, and he would not make the same mistakes as their fathers. He would not give up what he had out of pride or arrogance or anger. He would not lose his family.
A soft sigh from the bed stopped his feet. His head snapped around, his eyes finding the still figure on the bed, before he crossed the distance between them in large strides, sinking onto the mattress beside her. Gently, he drew her hand in his, feeling the soft warmth of her skin.
She was alive, his mind whispered reminding him of how fortunate he was.
Her eyelids began to flutter and then slowly opened. At first, her gaze was unfocused, but when her eyes came to rest on his face, a gentle smile claimed her face. “Matthew.”
Hearing his name on her lips, the way she breathed it almost lovingly, made Matthew’s heart flutter with excitement. “You scared me,” he told her, wanting her to know how much his heart had come to depend on her for his happiness. “You scared me when you fainted.” He swallowed. “For a moment, I thought…” His throat closed up, and all he could do was look at her, his eyes drilling into hers, revealing the utter fear and pain he had felt in that moment.
Another soft sigh left her lips, and she lifted her hand to place it gently on his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I did not mean to frighten you. I…” For a moment, her eyes closed, and he could see her features tense with relived pain as her memories returned, reminding her of what had happened, of what she had lost.
“My father,” she whispered, her blue gaze seeking his, “is dead.” Her voice did not rise. It was not a question. She was not asking him to confirm or deny her words. And yet, it needed to be said.
And acknowledged. “He is.” Gently, he squeezed her hands. “I’m sorry.”
Tears came to her eyes.
“Are you all right?” Matthew asked, wishing he could take the pain upon himself.
Drawing in a long, deep breath, Adelaide wiped the wetness from her face, her lips pressing together in determination. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice a bit tense, but still strong. Then she sighed, regret coming to her eyes. “If only he had seen the wrong of his ways before now. If only he had…” She shook her head. “There is no use in thinking thus. Nothing can change the past. It is what it is, and yet, I feel as though he missed his chance. I keep wondering who we could have been, him and me. What kind of father and daughter could we have been in another life?”
Matthew nodded. “Regrets are a part of life. They speak of longing and hope. They help us see what we truly want and who we truly love.” He sighed, “Only sometimes they find us too late.”
Blinking back tears, Adelaide nodded. “Too late for him.” She inhaled a deep breath, her blue eyes holding his, a hint of apprehension in them. “What about us?”
Matthew frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve barely had time to think about what I…told you,” she whispered, her hand resting in his tensing as she spoke, “about me, about Tillie. I will not hold it against you if you wished to…” Despite her brave face, her voice broke off, and the way she looked at him with such open longing gripped his heart.
Smiling, Matthew brushed a curl from her forehead, the tips of his fingers tracing along her temple and down the line of her jaw. “I meant what I said,” he whispere
d, noting the tentative hope he saw in the way her lips twitched into a semblance of a smile. “You’re my world, my life, my heart, and I’d be a fool to ever give you up. We are a family, and we always will be. You have my word.”
Joy shone in her eyes as she blinked back fresh tears. “And Tillie? She−”
“In our hearts, she is ours,” Matthew replied with conviction. “We may never be able to claim her publicly, but that does not change who we are as a family. We will find a way. If not in England, then somewhere else.”
A gentle frown came to her face. “Are you certain? I would never ask you to−”
“You didn’t ask,” Matthew clarified. “I offered. I would never allow Tillie to take the fall for her father’s wrongdoings.” The thought of Bartholomew still turned his stomach.
At the mention of Tillie’s father, Adelaide’s eyes widened. “Bart! He−” Her voice broke off, and she stared at him, a question in her eyes which she did not dare ask.
“He lives,” Matthew said, unable to ignore the part of him that felt a hint of regret over that fact. “The bullet hit him in the arm. He should be fine.” He inhaled a deep breath. “Your brother spoke to him and told him to stay away.”
A slight frown drew down her brows. “Do you think he will?” she asked carefully. “I still don’t understand why he sought me out in the first place. I mean he never even knew about Tillie.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Or did he?”
Swallowing, Matthew shook his head, knowing she had a right to know the truth. “He does not.” He sighed, trying to find the right words.
“What?” Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Adelaide looked at him, her eyes roaming his face. “What is it?”
Reaching out for her hands once more, Matthew met her eyes. “It was nothing but a game to Bartholomew,” he all but growled at the memory of what John had finally confessed to him. “Apparently, earlier that same year, he fell for a young girl. He spoke to your brother about her, and then after a fight, John went out of his way to win her over.” Matthew inhaled a slow breath, seeing her eyes widen with pained disappointment. “He succeeded, and she turned Bartholomew down, calling him a second son. He was furious, but eventually he forgave your brother…or so it seemed.”
Her hands tensed on his as she stared at him. “It was revenge,” she gasped. “He seduced me in order to get back at my brother.”
Matthew nodded, hoping the knowledge that Bartholomew had never truly cared for her would not shatter her fragile sense of self-worth. “It was a despicable thing to do,” he snapped, his voice sharper than he had intended. “His quarrel was with your brother. You were innocent in all of this. A gentleman would not have acted thus.”
Sighing, Adelaide nodded. “As far as I can remember, he has always been a kind man.” Her gaze focused on his. “He had to have been heart-broken to act as he did. I cannot believe he would have done this to me otherwise.” For a moment, she closed her eyes…before to Matthew’s utter surprise a relieved smile came to her lips. “I’m so incredibly glad I did not marry him.”
Matthew frowned. “Did he offer for you?” The mere thought sent panic up and down his spine.
“No, he did not.” Adelaide’s smile grew wider as her hands gripped his with determination. “But if he had, I would have accepted him. Then. And I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. He is not the kind of man I could have loved.”
Her words warmed Matthew’s heart, and he pulled her closer into his arms. “He is not? Who then?” he teased, noting the sparkle that had come to her eyes.
A slight blush rose in her cheeks, and yet, she did not avert her eyes. “You,” she whispered, and before he knew what was happening, her hands grabbed his face and pulled him down into a kiss. Then she smiled at him, a bit of a sheepish grin on her face. “Do you have any objections?”
“None at all,” Matthew replied, his lips still tingling from their quick kiss. What would it feel like to hold her in his arms all night? “All I care about is your happiness,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. “This is a new beginning for all of us, and we will not allow it to slip through our fingers.”
Smiling, she shook her head before a hint of tension returned to her eyes. “I only hope that my brother will see it the same way,” she whispered, her voice apologetic as though she feared by mentioning her brother she would break the spell that had fallen over them. “I worry about him. Too early did his life take a wrong turn, and there was no one there to guide his steps back.”
“We are here now,” Matthew said, reminding himself that despite numerous mistakes, John, too, had grown up with a father who had been an awful example, tempting his son to abandon all thoughts of decency and simply seek out his own desires…no matter the cost. “He is not alone, and we will make sure he knows that…even if we have to hit him over the head with it.”
Adelaide laughed, the sound contagious as she threw herself into his arms. “Thank you,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. “For everything.”
When she pulled back, Matthew once more brushed the tips of his fingers over her cheek, unable not to touch her. “Even though you grew apart, John loves you,” he reminded her, knowing she would never find peace without resolving the issues with her brother. “I suppose everyone lost sight of that, but I have a feeling that John will be overthinking things as well.”
Adelaide sighed as she leaned into Matthew’s caress. “I can only hope so, for despite his mistakes, he deserves to be happy.”
“So, do you.”
Her eyes sought his. “What will become of us now?”
“Whatever we want.” Cupping his hand to her cheek, Matthew glanced down at her lips. “Whatever we want.”
A shiver ran over her as she became aware of the direction of his thoughts. “Can you forgive me? Truly?”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Matthew said with vehemence, pulling her closer. “I have no regrets. I have you and Tillie, and I can’t imagine my life without either one of you.” Meeting her gaze, he inhaled a deep breath. “Do you want me? Here? Now? As your husband? Forever?”
Holding his gaze, Adelaide exhaled a shuddering breath. “I do,” she whispered, her lips quivering as they drew up into a smile. “I’ve wanted you for a long time now, and I was so afraid to lose you. I’m sorry I kept this from you for so long. I should have told you, but I never thought I’d ever lose my heart the way I lost it to you. It scared me like nothing before. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not when I never thought I’d even find you.”
Never in his life had Matthew felt such utter joy than in this very moment. Everything was perfect, frighteningly perfect. And all he had to do was pull her into his arms and never let her go again.
Gently, he placed a kiss onto her lips, feeling her arms come around him. Her hands brushed down his neck as her fingers twirled in his hair. His own traced the lines of her face, over her brows and cheekbones down to her jawline. All the while, he kept kissing her, feeling her respond first tentatively and then with more vehemence.
“Stay with me,” she whispered before her lips reclaimed his and they sank back into the pillows.
Matthew could not think of a place he’d rather be.
He belonged with her.
Here and now.
Forever.
Epilogue
Three months later
Matthew sighed as he stepped to the edge of the terrace, Tristan right beside him.
“It is a beautiful day, is it not?” his cousin remarked as they allowed their gazes to sweep over the gardens of Hampton Hall, Tristan’s rightful estate.
Matthew nodded, enjoying the peaceful scene of the falling leaves all around them. Brown, red, orange and golden, they fell to the ground into a rustling sea, blown about by a gentle breeze. Here and there, Matthew could still see the small tracks Tillie had left behind as she had chased through them earlier, her new puppy Oscar on her heels.
“Uncle Matthew, do you wan
t some tea?” the little girl called from behind him, cheerily setting up her tea set and arranging her dolls while Oscar slept at her feet.
Matthew smiled. “I’ll be there in a moment,” he promised, watching as she turned back to the task at hand, her little face slightly scrunched up in concentration.
“She’s a sweet one,” Tristan observed before his eyes slid from Tillie to Beth, seated comfortably on a chaise right beside the little girl, their newborn daughter Ellen snug in her arms. Hovering around the new mother were not only Adelaide and Matthew’s mother, but also his wife’s mother and grandmother, their faces shining as they looked down upon the new life.
The death of two tyrants had freed them all and given them back the life they deserved.
“You look happy,” Matthew observed, smiling at his cousin. “Being a father obviously agrees with you.”
Laughing, Tristan nodded. “It certainly does,” he said, his eyes glowing as he spoke of his little family. “She’s been here a few days, and yet, I cannot imagine ever spending another day without her.” Smiling, he shook his head in disbelief. “Not since I met Beth, have I felt anything so powerful.”
“That’s how it ought to be,” Matthew remarked, relieved that Tristan would not be a father like his own, but loving and devoted instead, seeing his child as a blessing, one to cherish each and every day.
For a moment, Tristan’s eyes became thoughtful before he spoke. “You, too, look happy, my friend. I’ve never seen you so much at ease.”
Sighing, Matthew nodded. “Is it that obvious?”
“Happiness is impossible to hide,” Tristan laughed. “You look like a man very much in love with his wife, and I should know as I’m speaking from personal experience.” He clasped Matthew’s shoulder. “When I first saw my sister again after she got married, I could see it at one glance as well.”
