by Sophia James
‘Guard your heart,’ she muttered so softly the words were almost lost amid the evening’s chill.
Fell’s brow creased into a frown. ‘What?’
‘You heard. I like Sophia very much. She’s a sweet soul and pretty with it, but…’
‘But?’
‘Remember Charity.’
If Ma had dropped a lit match into a heap of gunpowder, it still couldn’t have blown a bigger hole in Fell’s stomach. He stood completely still, only able to watch as his mother reached for his hand and held it with fingers cold with worry.
‘Remember how your heart broke for her? I would do anything to spare you that pain again, of loving a woman you cannot truly have. I can see the same thing happening now and it makes me want to weep.’
Fell shook his head mechanically. With one short sentence Ma had uncovered his most secret fear and dragged it out into the light, leaving him with nowhere to hide from her scrutiny. He wanted to cast her doubts aside and did so as best he could, his reply sounding hardly human coming from his abruptly dry mouth.
‘It’s different this time. We’re already wed.’
‘You said yourself it was a bargain, not the meeting of two hearts. I wouldn’t have you risk yourself again, at the mercy of one not meant for you…’
‘My own mother thinks I don’t deserve her?’ Anger leapt to circle in his gut, hot and determined to chase away the weakness of uncertainty. ‘Is that how you feel?’
After all the years he’d suffered loneliness and rejection, never thinking to find a spare ounce of happiness, she was trying to throw cold water over the fledgling flames of his hope for the future? It was more than he could bear and he knew his face must have set into a rigid mask of ire.
But Essea Barden was made of sterner stuff than to quail. Years spent living on the road had tempered her courage until it shone like burnished brass and she met her son’s eyes with unblinking determination. ‘That’s not what I meant. I just couldn’t bear you to know that grief again. You admitted your marriage was one of necessity, not feeling—she’s another kind of creature completely, no better and no worse, but so different I don’t know how there can ever be real feeling between you. You’re from entirely separate worlds that do not usually combine.’
She still held Fell’s hand and he withdrew it to rake stiff fingers through his hair. There was truth in her words—that couldn’t be denied—but still he turned from it.
Sophia is nothing like Charity. She’s given me no reason to doubt her and I won’t insult her by comparing the two so different in every respect.
‘Why are you so sure it could never work between us? What have you seen of marriage between two different worlds to think you can possibly predict that outcome?’
Ma cut her eyes fleetingly to the side, hesitant in the face of his question. Even with biting dismay running its claws through Fell’s innards he found her pause suspicious, only increased by her low mutter in reply.
‘More than you know.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Nothing. Forget I spoke of it.’
‘No, Ma.’ Fell heard the edge to his voice, but couldn’t hold it back, seeing the surprise that crossed Ma’s face at his forcefulness. The same frustration that welled up whenever she shut her mouth like a clam overcame him again and suddenly he couldn’t stand it any longer. Whatever she thought to hide wouldn’t escape him—she owed him that much, some explanation for the shadow she was so determined to cast over his happiness. ‘Not this time. If you’ve something to say, some secret you’re trying to keep, this time I want to hear it. You’ve kept things from me for too long and I won’t accept it any more. I’m not a child—whatever you have to say I am grown enough to hear.’
In her defeat Ma looked so much older that for a moment Fell felt a flicker of guilt. Perhaps he shouldn’t have pushed her so far—but then the image of Sophia flitted before him and he hardened his heart on thoughts of mercy.
‘You won’t like it.’
‘Even so. I’ll hear what you’re thinking all the same.’
Ma smoothed down the front of her dress, its bright red faded to dull crimson in the dusk. She had the distinct air of one trying to prolong the inevitable, but at Fell’s raised brow she heaved a sigh.
‘Your father, Fell. He was a gentleman far above me in station and our relationship shattered like glass. That is why I fear for you—I’ve been where you stand, loving one out of my reach, and I’ve seen the sorry outcome of this story with my own eyes.’
Fell stilled. Like a statue carved from ice he stood quiet, turning his mother’s words over as if to force them to make sense.
Finally, some part of the truth. After all these years… But I never once suspected…
‘My father was gentry?’
He almost choked on each syllable, disbelief only growing at Ma’s curt nod.
‘Yes. To take a farmer as my man would have been ambitious enough; a gentleman was sheer madness. I don’t think I need explain the hundred reasons it didn’t work, or why I fear for you following in my footsteps.’
At any other moment, on any other night, Fell knew he would have pushed for more. The tantalising hint of his father’s identity was more than Ma had dropped in thirty years, a clue he might gather up in the quest to make himself whole. On this night, however, Sophia’s face was all he could think of, his determination to prove his mother wrong blinding him to his powerful curiosity, and he couldn’t turn from the path he had chosen until he reached the bitter end.
‘I am not you and Sophia is not my father. There’s nothing to say history will repeat itself with us.’
Ma’s answering question was direct and unflinching.
‘Have you told her you love her?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then I ask you to wait until you’ve truly thought about what I said. Your happiness is the most precious thing in the world to me. If you’re right and Sophia is the kind of woman you claim, waiting a while to confess your feelings won’t make a difference. Just…please. Please think twice on what you do.’ His mother’s voice shook a little with valiantly suppressed feeling that cut like a knife through the cacophony of Fell’s thoughts.
He looked down at her, hardly seeing her sitting on the pile of wood and surrounded by darkness growing thicker with each minute that passed. They regarded each other in silence, each aware of the pain of the other, but powerless to make it go away.
She was right. I almost wish I hadn’t heard her thoughts. But I did and I can’t forget them—although I trust Sophia not to take me down the same path Charity led me a merry dance on.
What of the revelation about his father? That was something he would need time to digest, coming out of nowhere to make him question things he’d never considered before. His name, his rank, his position in society…all things Fell wanted to know, but with Ma’s doubts stirring the fire inside him he had no attention left to spare for anything other than defending his wife.
‘Very well. I’ll think about what you said. But know this: Sophia is nothing like Charity and in time I hope you’ll see it.’
He turned for the cottage, leaving his mother to stare after him with heartache dulling her ebony eyes. She’d acted out of love for him, Fell knew, and yet he couldn’t seem to manage to look at her as he walked away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
With her eyes closed Sophia exhaled slowly through parted lips, one hand pressed flat to her abdomen and the other supporting her against the rough bark of a tree. The nausea that had assailed her since she woke showed no sign of abating and she took another deep lungful of damp forest air, willing its freshness to chase away the turmoil in her innards. It had rained heavily all through the night and the hem of her skirts had grown more muddied with each step she took away from the cottage, hoping to find some relief among the stirring leaves.
Another wave rose up to make Sophia clench her jaw. A consequence of her attempts to cook, no doubt, the vague feeling of sickness had plagued her for the past few mornings and she passed a hand over her face as she waited for it to fade.
Neither Fell nor his mother seem afflicted, though, although I know Fell has barely slept a wink these past two nights. He persists in waking me with his tossing and turning, but denies anything troubles him when I ask.
Now she thought about it, Fell’s behaviour had been a little odd for a couple of days. There was nothing Sophia could quite put her finger on, only a vague sense of his mind being on something he didn’t wish to share. Perhaps she’d ask him again when she returned to the cottage, just as soon as this cursed nausea abated enough for her to walk…
The sudden sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves coming from somewhere close by made Sophia straighten from leaning against the gnarled trunk. At her feet Letty sprang up likewise and pounced off in search of the newcomer, who paused to see the puppy appear like a lioness protecting her cubs.
‘I know that fierce creature. Does this mean your mistress is somewhere near-about?’
Essea’s smoky voice drifted towards her, familiar now, but still with the unusual cadence that always caught Sophia’s ear. Her pronunciation of certain words was strange but beautiful in its novelty and her tone, although deeper than that of most women, held a world of feminine mystery Sophia couldn’t help but admire as its owner appeared through the trees.
‘Good morning, Essea. I hadn’t expected to meet anyone here.’
‘Nor I, so a pleasant surprise for both of us. But are you well? You look pale this morning.’
‘A little bilious in truth. Something I ate, I imagine.’ Sophia attempted a smile that was more like a grimace and bent carefully to usher Letty away, trying simultaneously to both ignore her nausea and pretend she wasn’t acutely aware how the other woman watched her narrowly. The darkness of Ma’s eyes was unsettlingly similar to the obsidian half of Fell’s, her son even sharing the new deep purple shadows now underneath.
Belatedly Sophia saw the strain in Essea’s face and felt her brows briefly contract. When the Roma woman had first arrived she’d seemed perfectly easy, but now she looked as though she hadn’t been sleeping well either and her features were drawn tight with worry that Sophia couldn’t understand.
‘Are you well?’
Ma tried to smile, its stiffness only increasing Sophia’s concern. ‘Merely tired. Nothing to alarm you.’
Sophia made as if to answer, although she regretted opening her mouth when her innards gave a lurch and she dug her fingers into the bark to stop herself from uttering a low groan. She was powerless to resist when Ma took her arm and guided her to a fallen tree, following where she was led and sinking down gratefully on to the damp wood.
‘Sit there a moment. Get your breath back.’
Essea perched beside her with feet drawn up and arms around her knees, straight-backed and surveying the forest while Sophia willed her head to stop spinning. It was the most unpleasant sensation and for some minutes she sat with her chin dropped to her chest, trying to breathe slowly and deeply as the cool breeze soothed her burning cheeks.
‘Do you feel better now?’
‘A little. Thank you.’ Sophia managed a croak, wishing for a glass of water for her dry throat. ‘It seems we’re all out of sorts this morning.’
‘How so?’
‘Fell has barely slept of late and then he’s up with the lark. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me and, if you’ll forgive me, you look troubled yourself. What a trio we are today!’
Still looking down at the leaf-strewn ground, Sophia missed whatever expression flitted across Essea’s features, but her voice was wary enough to give Sophia a good idea of what she would have found there.
‘Do I look troubled?’
‘A little.’ Sophia tried another smile, although discomfort had begun to stir inside her that had nothing to do with her roiling stomach. Essea’s tense face and now equally concerning tone made her uneasy, unsure what was going on behind that still-handsome countenance.
More than likely her worries involved Fell in some way, Sophia thought, and as she racked her brain a glimmer of inspiration came. She remembered now: Letty had been so excited to meet the horses two evenings before, making Sophia laugh with her delight. A sideways glance on her way back to the cottage had showed Fell and his mother deep in conversation, so grim-faced and intent she hadn’t wanted to interrupt. It had seemed odd at the time and she’d put it out of her mind, but now it resurfaced to make her pause.
Perhaps they have quarrelled. That’s why she looks so worried.
Doubtless it was none of her business if they had, but the stiffness of Essea’s posture stirred Sophia’s pity and she laid a hand on her mother-in-law’s arm.
‘Might it ease your mind to share your cares? I’d like to help if I can. I’m sure there need be no secrets among family.’
The swiftness with which Ma’s head snapped in Sophia’s direction left her in no doubt something was dreadfully wrong. Alarm spread through her, ringing warning bells as Essea’s eyes roamed her face, suddenly more rigid than ever before. ‘No secrets? Am I to understand then that Fell has spoken to you of what he told me—?’
‘I don’t know what you mean. What did he tell you?’
Essea shook her head, a rapid tic like a startled bird. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all. I misspoke.’ Her mouth snapped shut just as Sophia wanted her to continue speaking. The Roma’s jaw had closed like the heavy door of a vault and to Sophia’s growing dismay Ma looked as though she could have bitten out her own tongue for letting something slip.
What could she mean? What was it Fell told her that she doesn’t wish me to hear?
Her heart, already quickened by Essea’s uneasy words, skipped faster as she tried to order her racing thoughts into some semblance of calm. A sensation akin to drops of cold water skating down her spine crossed Sophia’s skin, the damp forest air suddenly cloying.
If it was anything good she would tell me and certainly not be so troubled. Whatever Fell spoke to her about cannot be a mere trifle…
‘Was it something concerning our marriage?’ With a tight throat Sophia named her worst fear. It had to be, surely. What else would cause Essea to look so disturbed, important enough to rob both her and her son of sleep? ‘Won’t you tell me that at least?’
‘Please don’t ask me. I should never have spoken out of turn.’
The icy droplets at Sophia’s back increased to a freezing downpour that invaded her very bones.
That means yes. It must do. And it must be something bad—if Fell had spoken well of me, why would Essea feel the need to keep it a secret? Given his behaviour the past few nights and how ill at ease he seemed this morning, it’s clear now there was something on his mind…something he did not wish for me to know…
The answer came to Sophia in a flash so blinding it took her a moment to see it clearly.
Of course. How could I have been such a fool?
She could date the change in Fell’s behaviour to the day after she’d all but confessed her love for him in the stillness of the night. It had begun after she’d seen his intense discussion with his mother—had he been confiding in her the situation Sophia had forced on him with her heavily hinted feelings? He still smiled at her readily enough, but with an undercurrent of something else she realised with a rush of shame she’d been too stupid to truly see, and he watched her now in a way he hadn’t before. At the time she’d been hopeful it was interest—now she wondered if it had been more wariness at what she might say next.
How could it be otherwise? When in my foolishness I completely misunderstood?
She gripped the gnarled bark she sat on, but hardly
felt how it cut into her numb hands.
How characteristically idiotic to imagine anything different. In her desperation for acceptance she had mistaken his friendship for something more, allowing herself to be carried along by her own wistful fancies until she could no longer separate fact from fiction. The truth was plain: greedily she had tried to snatch too much, not satisfied with what was already offered and more than she deserved. Fell was too kind to reject her completely, but the strain in his face the past couple of days surely told her all she needed to know. She had embarrassed both him and herself with her veiled declaration that could never be returned; because Mother was right. Who could ever love someone as worthless as Sophia, a walking disaster unable to tell affection from mere regard?
‘Sophia? Sophia, are you still unwell?’
Essea’s voice seemed distant, a vague mutter Sophia barely heard above the beat of her own heart and sick thud of blood in her ears. Fell’s mother sounded worried, however, that much she could tell. No wonder Ma had looked so tense, no doubt carrying her son’s discomfort with her and crushed beneath the weight of his unenviable situation.
Which I put him in. How Mother would laugh to see what a mess I’ve made of everything—but that’s hardly a surprise, is it?
With discord in her stomach and her head beginning to throb with the effort of holding back tears, all she could manage was the shakiest murmur.
‘No, I’m not. You needn’t sit with me any longer, truly.’
The autumnal air raised goosebumps on Sophia’s arms and she rubbed at them with cold fingers. Every last thing she had dreaded concerning her love for Fell was unfolding in front of her eyes—not only was he discomfited by her affection, but his poor mother had been dragged into the mire alongside Sophia’s heart to drown in the flood of her stupidity.
Essea couldn’t possibly know how Sophia ached for her feelings to be returned, or the fathomless depth of her regard for the man both women loved in very different ways. How could she, when Ma was a woman of substance and wit no doubt accustomed to devotion and Sophia a poor creature hardly worth a moment of Fell’s time?