by Joyce Alec
“It is just as well that your father is known to be a terrible shot,” he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. “I am all right, Dorothea. It is nothing but a graze. You need not look so afraid.”
Looking up into his eyes, Dorothea felt herself shudder violently, before a sense of calm flooded over her. Her husband was alive and well, and her father, her terrible, cruel father, had attempted to do his worst but had failed. Edward was safe and now, in his arms again, so was she.
“This is the magistrate,” Lord Johnston said calmly, as Edward led Dorothea towards the others. “He will be making a full report to the judge and the sentence will be passed accordingly. I am afraid, Lady Lauder, Lord Gaines, your confession has been heard by us all.”
Lady Lauder dragged in a ragged breath, suddenly seeming to shrink to half her size. Her face was pale, her eyes wide, and one hand pressed to her heart as though she might faint. “I cannot endure this,” she whispered, staggering backward slightly. “This is all too terrible for words. Pray, you must believe me that I had nothing whatsoever to do with this. This was entirely Lord Gaines’s—”
“Spare us your excuses,” the magistrate interrupted firmly. “You have been found out, Lady Lauder, and despite your highborn status, I am afraid that you must now accompany me.”
Lady Lauder staggered back again, one hand now draped across her forehead. “No, I cannot. I am weak. Too weak to stand. I…” She trailed off and gracefully fell to the floor, as though in a dead faint.
No one moved.
“Transportation will be easier, Lady Lauder, if you do not pretend to be a lady with a particular weakness,” Lord Johnston said firmly. “Weakness is not tolerated on board ship and certainly will not be tolerated in your new…home.”
“Transportation?” Lady Lauder’s head lifted from the carpet, her eyes rounding with fear. “No, you cannot mean it! I–”
The magistrate opened the door and beckoned in a few gentlemen, who were all clothed in black. Lady Lauder began to shout and wail, and Dorothea buried her head into Edward’s shoulder, unable to look at such a thing. She knew that Lady Lauder deserved her punishment, but the wails that escaped her lips tore at her heart.
“No, Dorothea, no!”
She raised her head and saw her father staring at her, his hands now held behind his back by one of the magistrate’s men. Her heart dropped to the floor, seeing for the first time, that he was truly afraid.
“No, you cannot allow this to happen!” he exclaimed loudly. “I am your father! You will convince your husband that–”
“Dorothea will do nothing of the sort!” Edward shouted, his voice breaking through Lord Gaines’s demands. “Can you not understand that she is no longer under your control, Gaines? She is free. She is to have the love, the care, and the consideration that she should always have experienced. She is to be cherished by one who truly loves her. There will be no more fear, no more dread, no more terror from you and your demands. This is the time of your parting, Gaines. You will not see your daughter again.”
Dorothea let her eyes linger on the face of her father. She could remember how he had told her, so callously, that he had never really cared for her. There was no love between them, only fear and pain. She would not mourn his parting. There was, as Edward had said, a freedom in this moment. A freedom that brought with it a peace and a healing.
“Goodbye, Father,” she whispered, her arm going around Edward’s waist as he held her tightly. She could say nothing else, the words pouring from her father’s lips as he demanded she act fading away into nothingness.
And then, it was over.
Epilogue
The door closed behind Lord Johnston, the magistrate, her father, Lady Lauder, and the magistrate’s men. She was alone with her husband, the air seeming to lose the tension that had filled it only a few moments ago. Letting out her breath, she turned in Edward’s arms and looked up into his face, thinking him the most wonderful gentleman she had ever known.
“I will make sure he does not face the gallows,” Edward promised gently. “Transportation will be enough.”
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears that he would be so considerate in the face of such hatred.
“You did not deserve that fire, Edward,” she said gently, her voice shaking just a little with all the emotion rifling through her. “Your pain and suffering were not just punishments for the man you were. I would not like you to ever believe that it was deserved. My father should have been more responsible if he chose to gamble. Nobody forced him to waste away his fortune.”
He shrugged, his expression a little sad. “And yet, I feel as though it has brought me its own share of good, Dorothea. I have learned to reflect on the man I was. I have learned not to give into the vices that held me for so long. I have learned what it is to love another with my whole heart.”
She smiled up at him, tears dampening her cheeks. “I love you too, Edward. For the trust you have given me, for the care you have shown me, my heart is filled with none but you.” Her smile faltered as she reached to brush her fingers down his cheek, recalling that he did not want her to touch his scars.
Edward drew in a long breath, his eyes fixed on hers. There was a fear lingering in his eyes, a fear that she could not entirely understand. Capturing her hand, he lifted it slowly, evidently afraid and yet pursuing this action regardless.
Her hand pressed against his face, and Edward closed his eyes tightly, as though in pain. His hand was still over hers, and she held it there gently, unmoving and yet filled with wonder and delight that he had allowed her to do the very thing he had refused her to do for so long.
“These are my scars,” he whispered hoarsely. “I have never allowed anyone to see the extent of them.”
“Why not?” she asked softly, her other hand now resting lightly against his chest. “Did you think that they would turn away with horror?”
He shrugged, his eyes opening to look down at her again. Oh, how she wanted to reassure him. How she wanted to bring him the same peace, the same freedom, that he had brought her.
“I have never thought you a monster,” she continued when he said nothing. “You have heaped names on yourself, but I have seen the kind of gentleman you are. I have seen your heart; I have seen your character; I have seen some of your scars, both inside and out. None of that changes my affections for you, Edward. In fact, I would say that they are increasing all the more, even at this very moment.” Slowly, she tugged her hand free of his and ran her fingers lightly down his cheek and over the scarred markings on his neck. They looked painful and sore, and yet, as she touched them gently, she saw his expression becoming more open, more at peace. The fear in his eyes had faded entirely, a small smile tugging at his lips. At long last, there was nothing at all between them.
“I fear I shall have another scar to add to them,” he muttered, indicating his bloodied shirt sleeve. “But I trust you will not shirk from that one either.”
Dorothea laughed, winding her arms about his neck and pulling herself in close. Edward looked down at her tenderly, before lowering his head and capturing her lips with his. She melted into him, her happiness overflowing.
“My heart is filled with love for you, Edward,” she whispered against his lips as he held her tightly.
“And I love you, Dorothea,” he whispered, his scarred cheek pressed against her own for a moment. “I love you more with every breath. My heart is mended and I am complete.”
* * *
THE END
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