“I think I’ll be fine. I feel better when I get to walk, and the longer the walk, the better.”
“Just make sure you don’t overdo it. I don’t want you to get sore like you did that first day we walked after you had Susanna.”
She glanced up at him. “You’re very sweet to be so considerate of me.”
“I don’t know if I’d say it was sweet. It’s actually selfish.”
“Oh?”
“If you’re uncomfortable, then who will play my favorite games with me?”
She chuckled at his joke. On impulse, she slipped her arm around his. “In that case, I amend what I said. You ought to be ashamed of yourself for thinking only of yourself,” she teased.
“I probably should be ashamed, but I’m not. I don’t mind doing everything I can to make sure you spend time with me.”
“You should be careful. I might use that to my advantage.”
“Really? How so?”
“I might ask that you let me do another silhouette of you, but this time, I’d like to do one of you holding Susanna. It’d be nice to draw you both together.”
“Well,” he let out a playful sigh, “if I must sit still for another half hour so we can be in the same room, then that is what I shall do.”
Laughing, she squeezed his arm. “You surprise me, Stephen. When I met you, I thought you were going to be such a serious person. I wouldn’t have guessed you had a sense of humor.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve used it.”
“Has it?”
He nodded. “It feels good. I didn’t realize how much I missed laughing.”
Funny he should say that. She couldn’t recall a time beyond her childhood that she had laughed as much as she had over the past month. Laughter had a way of dispelling doubts and fears. “Laughing does feel good, doesn’t it?”
“It does. We should do it more often.”
“We should.”
A smile still on her lips, she continued up the hill with him.
Chapter Sixteen
A couple weeks later, Stephen stared at the blank parchment in front of him. He had come into the den with the thought of writing to Brad. Ever since Susanna was born, he had wanted to tell Brad about it, but every time he got ready to pen the missive, he didn’t know what to write. Writing to Lewis and Loretta came so easy. But then, he hadn’t ever pushed them to the point where they didn’t want to have anything to do with him ever again.
He sat back in the chair and let out a long sigh. He grew up with Brad. It shouldn’t be this hard to write him a letter. And yet, all he could do was stare at the blank page in front of him.
If he’d had some indication—any indication—that Brad even wanted to hear from him, he’d have an easier time of it. Brad hadn’t responded to the missives he’d sent in the past, even though Stephen had apologized.
On the night Susanna was born, he’d had the desire to tell Brad about Patricia and Susanna. And he still did. He just didn’t know how. Or if Brad would even care.
He should at least let Brad know about Patricia and Susanna. Loretta might have done it, of course, but wouldn’t it be better if he let Brad know, too?
Stephen leaned forward and picked up his quill. He dipped it into the inkwell then brought it to the parchment. He managed to write the greeting when his mind went blank.
Sighing, he put the quill back into the inkwell and put his head on the desk. Why was this so difficult? All he had to do was tell Brad he was married again and that he had a daughter. That was it. It didn’t have to be a long missive. Just a few simple words.
The knock at the door was a surprising relief. Stephen sat up and put on his silver mask. Usually, he called out to find out who was on the other side, but this time, he decided to open the door to find out.
Patricia stood on the other side, a hopeful smile on her face. Her cloak was draped over her arm. “Susanna’s taking a nap, and the weather’s nice. I thought it might be a nice time to go for a walk. Would you like to join me?”
He glanced back at his desk. “I don’t know. I feel like I need to write to my brother.”
“I can wait while you write him a missive.”
“That’s the problem. It’s taking a long time for me to write it. I’ve been trying to get this thing written ever since Susanna was born. I just don’t know what to tell him.”
“Do you need help?”
“I don’t know how you can help.”
“I can write missives. I used to do it with Ichabod all the time. It’s the only way we ever communicated.”
Well, he supposed it was worth a try. “All right.” He waved her into the room and returned to the desk. He sat in front of the missive. “All I really want to do is tell him about you and Susanna. I don’t know if he’ll read it, but I feel like if I don’t send him something, then I’m not doing my part to make things up to him.”
“Make things up to him?”
“It’s a long story, but I did a lot of things to upset him. I don’t blame him for not wanting to have anything to do with me. It’s just that…” Unable to figure out a way to finish the sentence, he shrugged.
“He’s still your brother, and because of that, you wanted to share the good news about Susanna’s birth with him,” she filled in for him.
“And you, too. Having both of you in my life has been a good thing.” He paused. “I don’t even know if he’ll care. He hasn’t sent me anything at any other time I wrote to him. I’m sure he won’t respond this time, either.”
“Would you like to go to London and visit him? Maybe this is the kind of thing you need to discuss with him in person.”
“I don’t even know if he’d welcome me into his home. If he won’t reply to my missives, he’ll probably tell the footman to slam the door in my face.”
Her gaze went to the cloak she was holding, and at once, he recalled how excited she’d been by the prospect of going for a walk. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin her good mood.
He stood up, ready to suggest he would come back to the missive later when she asked, “What if I went with you? We could bring Susanna. Or, if you think it might make things easier, we could invite him and his family here.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’d have to think about it. I don’t think he’ll actually read the missive, but I also don’t like the idea of going to London.”
“Because of the mask or because going there brings up painful memories?”
“Both.”
After a long moment, she asked, “Do you think it’d make a difference if I sent the missive?”
“Honestly, I don’t know if it would or not.”
And he was almost too afraid to try. Brad recognized his handwriting. If he threw out the missive as soon as he saw the handwriting, then Stephen could assume Brad hadn’t ever read the contents of the letter. But if Brad read the missive because of the unfamiliar handwriting and he still didn’t want to have anything to do with him, Stephen would feel even worse.
“Well, it can’t hurt to try, can it?” she asked as she set the cloak on a chair.
Since she headed over to him, he moved aside and let her sit in his chair. She glanced up at him. “I might not know the person you used to be, but I know the person you are. If your brother is smart, he’ll take the time to get to know who you are now.” She picked up the inkwell, dipped it, and started writing the missive.
It was to Stephen’s benefit that he wore a mask. If she’d been able to see his entire face while she wrote the missive, she would have noted his surprise. She saw him the way he wanted to be. Yes, she had complimented him. She’d let him know she enjoyed being with him, but the fact that she was writing to Brad to tell him what a wonderful husband and father she thought he was filled him with an unexpected feeling he’d never experienced before.
It was similar to the way he felt about Lewis, Loretta and her family, and Susanna, but it was different, too. It was better. It was far more intimate. She didn’t s
ee him as the person he used to be; she saw him as the person he wanted to be—the person he’d been striving to be ever since he realized what a mess he’d made of his life. For the first time, he felt as if he could finally be redeemed. And it didn’t matter if the rest of the world ever accepted him. All that mattered was that she did. Because she did, Susanna would, too. And perhaps they might have more children together. With Patricia, he had a future worth living for.
When she finished with the missive, she folded it up and looked up at him. “Do you have an envelope?”
Breaking out of his thoughts, he nodded and opened the drawer to retrieve it.
“Would you like me to address it?” she asked.
“Yes. He’ll open it if he doesn’t recognize the handwriting.” Then he proceeded to tell her how to address it.
Maybe Brad would stop reading it as soon as he realized it was about him. Brad might not read further than the first sentence where she had introduced herself. But she had wanted to help him, and he appreciated her for that.
When she was done, she rose to her feet. “Would you like me to give it to the butler to send out?”
He took it from her. “I’ll do that. You did the hard part.”
She shrugged. “It was easy for me to write.”
“You said a lot of nice things about me.”
“All I did was write the truth.”
He cleared his throat as he studied the envelope in his hand. Up to now, he hadn’t realized what it was like to have such a strong emotional connection with another person. He’d seen the way Tad and Loretta looked at each other and knew they were in love. He was just beginning to understand that the kind of love they experienced was one where both felt complete with the other. All this time he’d longed for a sense of fulfillment. He’d had no idea when he agreed to marry Patricia that he’d get it with her.
“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered.
“You don’t have to say anything. Just send it to your brother.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I hope he’ll read it and send a good reply.”
She was sincere. She wasn’t just saying that to make him feel good. She honestly wanted him to be happy. If he guessed right, she would do anything in her power to make him happy. And she already had. Many times over. It stood to reason that of all the people he’d ever known, she was probably the one he could share everything with. But before he could, he needed to know if she could accept him without the mask.
“Patricia,” he began, “I wear the mask because there are scars covering my face. My first wife struck my face with a hand mirror during one of our arguments. We didn’t have the kind of marriage you and I do. I wish I could say Eloise was completely at fault for the way things turned out, but I can’t. I wasn’t a good husband to her. I mocked her whenever we were together. I did things to annoy her, but I didn’t kill her.”
“I know you didn’t kill her.”
“A lot of people think I did, even though the butler saw her fall down the stairs all on her own. I lived here, and she lived in London. Well, on that particular day, she came here demanding money, and when I said no and locked myself in this den, she went upstairs. I’m guessing she was looking for something to sell.”
He paused, trying to decide how much he should explain without getting into the more morbid parts of his past. “Shortly after our marriage, the Duke of Silverton revealed he wasn’t her real father, and that meant we were no longer getting any money from him. My brother, who was understandably upset with me, didn’t give me her dowry. He used it to pay off my debts. Since she and I didn’t get along, I wasn’t about to give her any money because I didn’t want her to have it. Besides, I knew her lovers were giving her gifts, and some of those were very expensive.”
He cleared his throat and continued, “The truth is, I deserved her. I don’t blame her for taking lovers. I never made an attempt to make the marriage work. I was too wrapped up in doing whatever pleased me. If I couldn’t get something from someone, I had no use for them.”
Now came the more difficult part of his confession. “She wasn’t the only one I treated badly. I was a horrible brother to Loretta and Brad, but I was far worse to Brad. With Brad, I squandered the money he gave me on every pleasure I could find, and no matter how much he gave me, I was never satisfied. I kept demanding more. And when he finally stopped giving into my demands, I sent a poor innocent lady up to his bedchamber while he was bathing, and then I told someone I knew at the Tittletattle that he had been in bed with her.”
He winced and added, “I picked her because I knew he didn’t want to marry her. I wasn’t doing him a favor. I was trying to make his life miserable. I was a terrible brother. I was a terrible person. When I look at my scars, I see myself for who I really was for all of those years. I was never a saint, Patricia.”
“You’ve never claimed to be one,” she replied. “I figured you had some dark moments.”
“And you should know about them. It’s not fair of me to ask you to love me if you don’t know the more unpleasant parts of my life.”
“You want me to love you?”
Surprised she should focus on that part of what he’d just said, he hesitated but then answered, “Yes. I love you, and I’d like for you to love me in return.”
She hugged him. “I do love you, Stephen.”
“Well, in that case, I see no reason to hide my face from you.” He pulled away from her. If he was going to bare everything to her, he needed to reveal his face. “I want to warn you that what you’re about to see under this mask isn’t a pleasant sight. If it frightens you, I’ll put it right back on.” He released her and put his hands up to the mask. He hesitated when he realized he hadn’t asked her if she even wanted to see his face. “I won’t remove the mask if you don’t want me to.”
“I want to see your face because it’s a part of you. I don’t care if you have scars or not.”
Well, he’d see if she still thought that once he showed her just how disfigured he was. Even the doctor had winced once he had removed all of the glass. “It’s bad,” he’d told Stephen. “It’s worse than I thought it was going to be. You’re not going to like what you see in the mirror.” And he’d been right. Stephen hadn’t liked it. But at that point, there was nothing he could do about it except cover it up with a mask so no one else had to see just how disfigured he was.
“All right,” Stephen said, bracing himself for her reaction. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He lifted the mask.
He noticed the way her eyes grew wide. Then there was the same wince the doctor had given him that let him know it was much worse than she had imagined.
But she didn’t ask him to put the mask back on. Instead, she reached up and traced the scars with her fingers. “You must have gone through a lot of pain.”
He nodded. “The doctor had me take something for the pain for a couple of days. After that, it became a dull ache. Then it stopped hurting.” He shrugged. “I only remember the emotional pain when I look at my face in my bedchamber.”
She lowered her hand. “I thought you covered all of the mirrors except for the one in my bedchamber.”
“I covered all of them in the main living areas. I didn’t cover the ones in the bedchambers. I don’t go into the other bedchambers. I only go to mine, and then I come downstairs. Covering the mirrors down here helps me to forget the past.”
“But you want to remember it when you’re in your bedchamber?” she asked in a tone that indicated she didn’t understand why he’d do such a thing.
“To be fair, I haven’t looked at my face so much since Susanna was born. Her birth gave me hope I haven’t had in a very long time.”
“Her birth gave me hope, too. Maybe we both needed that.”
“Did you need hope?”
“I haven’t had hope in a very long time. After my mother died, it seemed that despair followed me wherever I went. I never felt like I could get out from under it. Then when Susanna was born, I had so
mething to live for. And you give me a reason to have hope, too. I’ve enjoyed these past two months more than I’ve enjoyed anything in a very long time. It’s been like a wonderful dream. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember it’s real. I want to live this life with you and Susanna. I want to hold onto every moment and enjoy it.”
“Then we’ll do just that.”
Since she hadn’t asked him to put the mask back on, he set it down on the desk with the envelope. Turning back to her, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”
With a smile, she said, “I thought you’d never ask.”
Taking that as a yes, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. He hadn’t ever kissed a lady he loved. For him, kissing had been a prelude to other things. It was done simply to arouse and excite. But in this case, it was different. This was sweet and tender, and something about it made him feel closer to her.
They were crossing a threshold. There was no denying that. This was marking a transition in their relationship. From this point forward, they would no longer just be friends. They would be more than that. Now, they would also be lovers. And the best kind, really. They had already started to build a life together. Being intimate would only make it better. Because from this point forward, nothing would be between them. No mask. No tainted past. No loneliness. From this point forward, they would be complete, just as Loretta and Tad were complete.
When their kiss ended, he smiled at her. “Next time Lewis comes to visit, I should thank him for bringing you to me.”
She returned his smile. “We’ll both thank him.”
“Would you still like to go for that walk?” He glanced at the window. “As you said, it’s a nice day.”
“Yes, I’d love to go for a walk. I always sleep better at night when I do. Susanna’s such an easy baby. She’s been sleeping through the night for the past two weeks. I don’t know if that’s normal or not.”
“I don’t think it is,” he said as he picked up her cloak and slipped it around her shoulders. “Loretta said she had to wait for almost half a year before her children started sleeping through the night. She could have had the maid’s help, but she prefers to take care of them herself.”
The Marriage Contract Page 14