“That is quite sad,” Violet said, biting her lip, and Marigold nodded in agreement.
“It is.”
Violet sighed.
“It is a difficult question. Do you give up on a man because he has given up on himself? Or do you stay with him and give up what could be a life of happiness as you attempt to convince him to love you in return?”
Tears began to burn the back of Marigold’s eyes at Violet’s words, but she waited to see what else her sister had to say.
“I think… oh, Marigold, you are such a kind, loving person. I think you need a man who will be there for you, who will love you with his entire heart. Perhaps if the marquess was open to the thought of love, I would feel otherwise, but he has so closed himself off to all possibility of it that I think… I think if he cannot give you the love you deserve, he is not worthy of you. If you so choose, you could continue being a friend to him, through letters or your support, but to be his wife may prove to be far too heartbreaking.”
Marigold nodded slowly, the tears that had been threatening now beginning to fall. Clover jumped on the bed and cuddled into her lap, sensing her despair and attempting to calm her.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I am still unsure of my decision, for the thought of now living without him, of leaving him to continue on his own, is a rather desolate one. But so, as you say, is a life without love.”
“Only you can decide,” Violet said with a small, sad smile, and Marigold nodded.
“You are right,” she said. “Which I must — very soon.”
* * *
Jacob tapped his fingers on the arms of the floral upholstered wingback chair as he looked out the window at the street before him, a book unopened on his lap. It was some silly book of sonnets that he had taken from the shelf without even realizing what it was. Simply a way to pass the time until Marigold provided him with her answer and then he would return home — with or without her. What astonished him was how much the thought of returning alone filled him with melancholy.
The dog entered the room before Marigold did, her footsteps so quiet he almost didn’t hear her as she followed behind.
“Jacob?” she called out, her voice soft and small, and he turned, standing as she took a few cautious steps into the otherwise empty room.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, and she shook her head with a small smile.
“Not really.”
“Nor did I,” he said, folding his hands together behind his back and looking at the floor before returning his gaze to her. He could sense that she was here to provide an answer to him, and his heart began to pound furiously in his chest as he worried about what she might say.
“I will—” she said, and he began to smile, his lips stretching into the foreign expression as she began the words he had longed for. But then she stopped, her perfect mouth open as though she didn’t know how to complete her sentence, and his smile paused in its formation.
“You will…” he repeated, unable to help himself, his patience gone as he needed to know what she was thinking and feeling.
“I want to marry you, truly I do,” she said hesitantly, and he noticed how white her knuckles were as her hands clutched at one another in front of her. “I love you, Jacob.”
He nodded, shocked at how her words caused warmth to flood through his soul. She loved him, despite the fact that he was flawed, that he would never be the man she deserved. And still, she seemed to find some good in him.
“Marigold,” he said, stepping toward her, hearing the tremble within his voice, and he cleared it before beginning once more. “I am very happy to hear you say that. I know we will—”
“But I cannot marry you.”
He stopped in his tracks, staring at her, wondering if he had heard her correctly.
“Pardon me?”
“I cannot marry you,” she repeated, her voice breaking, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I want a life of love. At first, I thought that my own love for you could be enough for both of us. But as I stand here looking at you, I know that eventually, that love I have for you would be replaced with despair that you did not feel the same for me in return. I don’t want to live without you, but I also don’t know how I can live with you without your love. I’m sorry, Jacob, truly I am. I want you to be happy more than anything in the world, but I don’t believe that you will be happy if I become desolate. I hope… I hope you understand.”
Jacob hadn’t realized how much her words would hurt until they flooded through him. He had come to enjoy the idea of having her by his side, and despite the fact she had told him she required some time to think on his proposal, it hadn’t occurred to him that she might actually turn him down.
“I am a marquess, Marigold,” he said, hoping to convince her to change her mind but unsure of how to do so. “I can provide more for you than you could ever even ask for.”
They were the wrong words. He knew as soon as he said them, could tell by the way her eyes narrowed and seemed to practically darken.
“Except love,” she said. “You say you cannot provide me love.”
“I cannot.”
“Could you open yourself to the possibility? Allow it to happen if it so does?”
“No,” he shook his head adamantly, “that I cannot do.”
“Then farewell, Jacob,” she said, rising, and before he could say another word, she was out of the room faster than he would have thought she could move, Clover trailing at her heels, though with a sad look backward at Jacob.
* * *
Marigold ran out of the sitting room, out of the inn, as quickly as her legs could take her. Why had she ever thought that she could help him, could change him? Despite the fact that he had kissed her prettily and shared some of his life with her, he was still the same man he had been when he had arrived at the inn.
Clover followed her as they broke off the town road and onto the path that ran along the marsh. He seemed to understand just how upset she was, for he never tried to play or wander off. She made her way through town rather quickly, but the farther away from the inn she went, the faster her legs moved, until she was running nearly blind. Her tears covered her eyes, blurring her vision and all in front of her as she choked back a sob.
She just needed to be as far away from Jacob, as far away from The Wild Rose Inn, as she could possibly get. Reason had left her and now she was guided only by emotion.
She didn’t notice when she left the path, when she began to slip along the muddy plants that bordered it. She just kept going, trying to get as far as she could in as little time as possible.
Soon she realized she was no longer in the marsh but in a field beside it, on someone’s property, most likely. She paused for a moment, taking a breath, not entirely caring but knowing, deep within her, that she should be keeping her wits about her, and she veered back toward where she thought the border of the marsh would be. Her heart was beating so fast she thought that it might escape her chest, and her breath was coming rapidly as she soon realized she had no idea where she was. The trees were thick about her and her tears refused to stop falling.
She picked up her pace once more and heard Clover give a bark. Marigold he turned to see just what he was barking at, though it was likely just some creature who had followed them.
He was looking beyond her, however, as though he were warning her of something.
“Clover, what—” she began, but then suddenly the heel of her foot hit something incredibly hard and the ground fell away from her. She was flying backward through the air, her breath leaving her in her fear.
Then shock coursed through her as she hit cold water with a splash, and she gasped, her fear now turning to the thought of drowning. Thank goodness, however, her feet found a foothold, and she was able to stand waist deep. Marigold took a few deep breaths to regain control of her thoughts and emotions, until she was able to rein in her composure enough in order to look around her and determine where she was.
She could he
ar Clover barking still, and she looked up to see that he stood at the top of what seemed to be a well, staring down at her, barking as though he was telling her to get up and climb out. Only, there didn’t seem to be any way out of this thing. There was a rope with a bucket, but it was hanging far too high for her to access it.
Despair crept through her at the same time her teeth began to chatter. For it seemed the only way out of this now was to wait for help to arrive — help that might never come.
16
Jacob threw one item and then another into the tattered bag that had, at one time, been one of the finest a man could find. But things had changed since he had first been gifted it upon his marriage to Anna. Now, the bag was like him — intact, still functioning, but far from what it once was.
He kicked at the bag as he pulled another linen shirt from the closet. It had been a few hours now since Marigold had left him, had provided him with her final refusal. He sighed, running his hands over his face. He would leave tomorrow, putting all of this behind him. He would return to his old life, which would become his new life, for it would never be what it once had been.
Jacob paused when he heard barking coming from outside the door, realizing that Marigold must have returned from wherever she had gone. He would stay in here until dinner, then, so they would not have to see one another any more than they had to.
But then there was a furious scratching at his door, and he sighed. Perhaps when he had first arrived here at the inn he had been hard enough to have ignored Clover, but now he didn’t see how he could turn the little dog away.
He opened the door, and Clover bounded into the room. Jacob bent to pet him, but Clover wasn’t having any of it. Instead, he ran in circles around Jacob, continuing his furious barking. Jacob heard a footfall at the door and looked up, expecting to see Marigold, but instead, it was Iris who filled the doorframe.
“Lord Dorchester?” she said. “Is Marigold here?”
“Here? No, of course not,” he said, not understanding why her sister would think she would spend time with Jacob alone in his rooms — but then he saw the look on her face. It was not a face concerned about her sister’s reputation. No, Iris was worried — perhaps even panicked.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, standing now.
“We don’t know where Marigold is,” she said anxiously. “We’ve been looking for her everywhere, and no one has seen her in a few hours. Then Clover returned, and he ran upstairs as fast as he could to your rooms so we figured Marigold must be here.”
“I also haven’t seen her in hours,” Jacob said, his own heart beginning to beat faster. “Where could she have gone?”
Iris shook her head in apparent confusion, and Jacob looked at her intently.
“Something must be wrong — the dog wouldn’t otherwise act this way.”
“Do you really think the dog would come back to tell us if something was the matter?” Iris asked, obviously not believing so, but Jacob had known enough dogs to be aware that this wasn’t typical behavior, and that dogs could be capable of far more than one would imagine.
“Clover,” he said, looking at the dog. “Can you take us to Marigold?”
The dog answered by bolting out of the room, though he stopped just outside the door to make sure that Jacob was following.
“Stay at the inn in case Marigold comes back,” Jacob said to Iris. “I’ll follow Clover.”
And with that, he chased after the dog, who thankfully stopped now and then to allow him to catch up. Jacob wasn’t surprised when they entered the marsh, which he had come to realize was one of the places Marigold loved to spend her time. But then the dog wandered off the path, through a neighboring meadow that must be part of a nearby property, and Jacob wondered just where they were going.
When he saw the well, which was not much more than a hole in the ground, his heart nearly stopped.
“My God,” he breathed, praying that Marigold wasn’t within, for he didn’t want to think of what could have happened had she hit her head on the way down or suffered some other sort of malady. She could be in there, drowned, for all he knew. Memories of his wife’s death began flashing through his mind, though as they did so, he realized only one thing — he was just as panicked now as he had been then. For as much as he had tried to deny it, he loved Marigold. He had loved his wife as well, and this was that same feeling coursing through him, though for different reasons, for they were both such different women.
“Marigold!” he cried out now as he approached the edge, and his heart began beating again when he heard her response, thin as it might have been. He peered over to see her standing still, but leaning weakly against the wall, shaking nearly uncontrollably.
“Jacob?” she managed when he called to her again, and while he could barely see her in the dim light of the hole, he could hear the echo of her teeth chattering against each other.
“I’ll get you out,” he said, feeling Clover’s body press up beside him, the dog clearly as concerned as he was. “As quickly as I can — I promise.”
She didn’t say anything in response, though he thought she may have nodded her agreement — not that there was much choice. Jacob reached toward the bucket, testing the strength of the rope. It seemed sturdy enough, but he had no idea whether Marigold would be strong enough to hold herself on it, and he couldn’t go down to help her without a way to crank the rope back up.
“Marigold,” he called down. “If I get this rope to you, do you think you could hang on?”
“I can,” she vowed, though he wondered whether the determination that filled her voice was as much for her own benefit as his. Jacob turned the crank, lowering the bucket until it splashed into the water beside her.
Marigold reached over and gripped the rope, but when Jacob began to turn the crank, her hands slipped right off of it. She tried a couple more times before he heard her hands splash down into the water, and she gave a sob of despair.
“I’m sorry, Jacob,” she called up. “My hands are just too cold.”
“I’ll try lowering it a little farther,” Jacob said. “See if you can climb on, over top of the bucket.”
She nodded and did as he said, though her movements were sloppy, and Jacob worried about how cold she was, and how long she might be able to continue on. What would he do then? He could go for more help, but the thought of leaving her behind, all alone, was almost too much to bear.
He turned the crank ever so slowly until it seemed she was able to maintain her hold. He began turning it a little faster then, though as she emerged from the water, the crank strained at the weight placed upon it. If only he could somehow get her to empty the basket… but she couldn’t let go, for he feared then she would never get back on the rope.
It seemed to be holding, however, and she was nearly at the top when the rope started to snag, just above where she gripped it with her hands.
“Jacob,” she said, panic filling her voice. “It’s breaking. What do I do?”
He wished he had an answer for her, but all he could say in reassurance was, “Hold on.”
She was close — just a few feet — when the rope began to unravel. Marigold looked up at him, panic filling her eyes, and time seemed to slow. Determination filled him, however — he had lost one woman he loved, and he was not about to do so again. As the rope frayed to almost nothing, Marigold threw up her hands, and Jacob leaned over into the well as far as he could without falling himself, and just as the rope broke and the bucket fell back into the water below, he captured one of Marigold’s hands in his own.
She gave a cry as her body flew against the side of the well, but Jacob held on tightly, and with all of the strength he possessed, he pulled her out until she was lying on the ground beside him.
“Jacob,” she said, reaching out toward him, though as she did so Clover came between them and began to lick her face, as ecstatic as could be that she was back on land with him once more. Tears descended down Marigold’s face, and Jacob quickly remove
d his jacket before reaching down and cradling her against him, using the jacket to cover her body wherever she wasn’t pressed against him. “You saved my life,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “Thank you.”
“No, Marigold,” he said. “You saved mine.”
“What are you talking about?” she sniffed.
“I’ve been a fool,” he said, the lump forming in his throat. “I knew I cared for you, but I was too afraid to open myself up to the possibility of love, for what it could mean to lose that love again. But when you were missing, I was searching for you, and then I found you in that well… I realized that it didn’t matter whether or not I was prepared to love you, nor to lose you, for love you I do, whether I like it or not. And I think… I think it’s all right. For I have tried a life alone, without love, and even though I came close to losing you, the thought of not having you in my life is what would truly be the worst feeling of all.”
Marigold gave a choked cry as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer toward her.
“Oh, Jacob,” she said. “I understand — I do. I know how much you loved Anna, how difficult it was to lose her. I will never take her place, but it would mean everything to me to be beside you, to share the love that I hope you feel for me… or can come to feel for me.”
“I did love my wife, and she will always have a place in my heart,” he said as he stroked Marigold’s hair. “But that doesn’t mean there cannot be room for another. With Anna, it was fire and passion and young love. With you, it’s true love just the same, but in a different way. You see right inside my soul, and there is no one else who I could ever feel as comfortable with, could truly feel like myself with. I just do not know how to convince you of such after all I have said to you, all I have put you through.”
Marigold reached up a hand to cup his chin and cheek, and he was shocked at the icy coldness of it.
A Marquess for Marigold: The Blooming Brides Book 2 Page 10