Absolute Surrender

by LeBlanc, Jenn

  Charles looked…he looked…peaceful. He moved toward Hugh, and she felt her muscles relax, then tension flowed from her body like a cleansing. She felt clean. Charles took Hugh’s shoulders, leaned in, waited for Hugh to meet his gaze. “I forgive you,” Charles said.

  Amelia felt those words like a corset. She couldn’t breathe. She wrapped her arms around her middle, attempting to hold herself together as she watched them embrace, Hugh’s tense hands on Charles’s jacket as though they wrapped around her heart—and she felt it skip.

  Charles straightened and looked at her, and she shivered. “Come, Amelia, there is no us without Hugh.”

  “What now?” she asked.

  “There is no us without you,” Charles repeated. “Come here.”

  She shook her head, then took two steps, coming up next to them. Hugh and Charles both reached for her.

  “Please, wait,” she said. She turned and brought her hand up to let it rest on Hugh’s waistcoat, just below his cravat.

  His cravat.

  His very rumpled cravat. Ruined, really, this cravat.

  There isn’t even a semblance of a knot remaining—he should see to that.

  She put her hand to it, pushed it back, tucked the edges into his waistcoat, then tucked her fingers into the top of his waistcoat and held on. His heart beat against her fingers, and she concentrated on the feel of it. Willed herself to stay here, now.

  “You left me.” Her voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear it herself. “I never thought you would do that to me, and in that belief, I found strength. You shattered the very foundation of who I believed myself to be. For better or worse? I’ve no idea. I understand that I need to find that strength in myself, but at times…at times, I simply can’t, and at those times I always looked to you. I don’t know why.”

  A realization came over her suddenly, instead of in stages, as though an idea simply hardened and crystallized in her mind without force. When before she’d believed that in the right situation she would be perfectly fine, she now realized…she never would be. This is who she was, for whatever that meant. Knowing this gave her strength. Knowing that she was to live this way forever gave her a certain power over whatever it was that did this to her. It was finally all right to be who she was. To not fear her reactions, to simply be, and to deal with whatever came.

  Amelia lifted her other hand, tucked it into Charles’s waistcoat, beneath a perfectly placed cravat—and of course it was. She smiled. These men couldn’t change her. They couldn’t heal whatever was wrong with her, but they were willing to stand by her side as she lived with it.

  “You men. I’m blessed. Well and truly blessed. I understand I’ll never change. There are certain things about me that simply are. You both continue to believe that I’ll change, and to continue on that way may be our undoing. I will never change. I can’t make excuses for myself, hoping that neither of you see through me to the truth of it. This is me. I will not change. I understand that now. Perhaps there’s a place for me in this world, perhaps I belong somewhere where I can’t hurt myself, or others.”

  “Amelia, you’ll not be better off anywhere but with us,” Charles said, and she looked up at him.

  “Us?”

  “Amelia, whatever the future holds, we will see to it, together,” Charles replied.

  She looked at Hugh, who smiled. “Hugh, you stand here next to Charles, alive and well. That surprises me a bit, even though I did ask that he not damage you.”

  Charles smiled, and Hugh laughed. “Yes, I’m alive and well and here, with you, the both of you, and it has never felt more right. Amelia, I believe you, but I also believe that there’s better, there’s more. I believe that you will be healthier when you feel safe. I believe these things with my whole heart. Will you change? No, not at your heart. You’ll always be my Amelia, our Amelia, whatever comes our way.”

  Charles put his hand over hers. He had to touch her, though he knew he couldn’t do anything drastic, not yet. “Amelia, I…my mind is full of all the things that would need to be dealt with before we can marry. The how of it is at the foremost of my mind, of course, but then what follows…children, for one.” He looked at Hugh then back to her. “Beds, for another. It just seems that everything, every small thing, must be taken into consideration in ways we’d never thought before. Previously, these were things that were simple. We marry and carry on, but now—” Charles stopped and looked at her.

  “It’s insurmountable,” she whispered.

  “No.” This came from Hugh, but Charles shook his head in agreement immediately. “It’s merely something to be dealt with. The most important thing is your marriage to Charles. Once that’s done with, the ton will look the other way for a while, because you’ll then be uninteresting. We only have to ensure their interest is not piqued again. Somehow. It will take some time. There are other factors that…well, we can deal with this later.”

  “I grow tired of being a slave to society. First for the protection of my family, now for the protection of Charles’s position to the crown.” She said it offhandedly. She hadn’t thought it through before, as she did most things.

  “My position with the crown is irrelevant. I’ll give it all up and be done with it if need be,” Charles said.

  “That wasn’t at all what I meant, Charles. I…you misunderstand. It was merely a wish to be left to ourselves, that if we didn’t have this—” She released Charles and waved her hand about her head. “Please do not…not on my account.”

  She saw Hugh take Charles by the arm, give him a shake.

  “I’m just not in the right mind at the moment,” Charles replied, then he did reach for her, pulled her into his arms to soothe her, and himself. “I promise you, I’ll not do anything without us all coming to an agreement first. I promise.”

  The memory of what had happened before her episode came back suddenly, as it always did, and she tensed. Hugh stepped closer when her hand tightened on his clothing. “My father?”

  Hugh looked away, and Charles spoke as he set her back so she could see him. “When Smythe came for me, all I knew was that the need was dire. When I got here, you were already…on the floor. It was the most disturbing sight of my life. While Hugh attempted to get to you, your mother cowered and your father railed at Hugh. He was determined to have you taken away.”

  Charles fell silent, and Amelia considered his words, allowed them to sink into her. “He is not as weak as he pretends to be,” Charles said.

  “He is quite done with me,” she whispered finally.

  “Which is of little consequence, as you are no longer his concern. Amelia, we are to remove you to my town house immediately. Whatever happens from there is with his outward blessing.” Ever concerned of the opinions of the ton, her father.

  “And my mother?” she asked.

  “She’s chosen to remain with your father, as is her place. Her words, not mine,” Charles answered quietly.

  “What will they think?” she asked. “I shouldn’t go to your house, not before we are wed. There will be talk.”

  “Their talk is irrelevant to me. We’ll be married as soon as we have the license.”

  “And Hugh?”

  Before he could answer, Louisa burst into the room.

  “Oh, bless your heart, Amelia! What the devil happened?”

  Charles and Hugh both swayed away from her instinctively.

  “The servants are all in a bind. I could’t find Lord Endsleigh or His Grace—and here you all are.” Louisa threw her arms in the air in exasperation. “Apparently, I should have stayed in tonight. I’m so terribly sorry.”

  Amelia released her men and turned to sink into a warm hug from her maid. “Pack your bags, Louisa.”

  “My lord, if I may have a word.”

  Louisa stopped Hugh as he walked for the entry of Charles’s town home. Amelia was finally settled, and Hugh was headed for his own town house and some much needed sleep. They’d considered him staying, but he wasn’t but a fiv
e minute ride away. Close enough, being as the situation was precarious as it was. It would have to do.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “My lord, I wanted to speak with you about this predicament we find ourselves in,” Louisa said.

  “Which…predicament is that?” Hugh asked carefully.

  “The predicament of you, living with them as a family…for lack of a better term. You can’t possibly live with them at Castleberry and not raise some sort of suspicions. You do realize.”

  Hugh took her arm and led her into the parlor, away from any remaining servants. They walked to the settee, then he sat next to her, heavily. Hugh wasn’t sure he was prepared for what she had to say. It would be the first of many how inappropriate! discussions to be had with the people who were closest to them.

  “My lord, I may have a solution.”

  Hugh froze. This was unexpected. Louisa had always been a cunning sort, but this…

  Hugh was willing to listen, however, and hope that she truly had a way to manage the mess they found themselves in.

  “Go on,” Hugh said.

  In the end, Louisa saved them all, but watching Hugh marry another woman was the single most heartbreaking moment of Amelia’s life. She held on to Charles’s hand as though he were the only thing left in the world, and in some respects, he was. Hugh was standing before God and country—marrying another woman.

  Hugh can’t marry me. He simply cannot. He can’t. It simply isn’t a possibility in any fashion. This, this is for the best. Because he must marry. Hugh must marry.

  Amelia hadn’t expected it to hurt so very badly. She hadn’t expected so many of the feelings she was having lately, but this…

  When she truly considered what was happening—right before her very eyes—Amelia had to stop and force herself to breathe, because Hugh’s one request was that she be here, that she sit behind Miss Elliott and be present throughout the ceremony.

  Hugh could have asked her to fly, and it would have been easier.

  Charles’s hand swept warm circles into her back, across her spine, helping her breathe. What Amelia wanted to do was scream. To fill the rafters of this church with the air from her lungs and frighten all the doves from the tower. Or perhaps curl into herself and disappear into the darkness for a while. Would that she could command it as such. Amelia closed her eyes, then opened them and watched. Breathed. Held on.

  Hoped.

  Amelia allowed the words to flow over her. So many words. Words to consider, fear, love, and look forward to upholding.

  The officiant spoke of the purpose of marriage.

  “First, it was ordained for the procreation of children.”

  No problem there. They intended to make children. For all of them, as many as was practical, as often as they wished. They’d decided that any of Amelia’s children would be raised as Charles’s heirs, as it should be. Then, of course, Maitland wanted children as well, and of course she did. And, of course, Hugh would need an heir. And, of course, they would see to that.

  Of course they would.

  Of course.

  “Secondly, it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication.”

  Well, this could get interesting.

  “Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity.”

  Yes, they all needed each other. They all intended to support each other. They all purposed themselves with being the strength for one another, whenever one was needful. They would be a society unto themselves. Amelia knew in her bones that she was the most needful of them all. She felt somewhat guilty about that, regardless that none of them ever gave her cause to—she did.

  Amelia watched as Hugh looked to Maitland, who smiled up at him. Practically beamed. The joy in her eyes was nearly blinding, and Amelia’s heart kicked its revolt. It has nothing to do with him, Amelia told herself. Yet it did have something to do with him. Hugh was saving Maitland, after all.

  But Maitland saved us all. Remember that. Maitland and Louisa saved us all.

  “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Hugh said, “I will.” Then he looked to Amelia, held her gaze, and spoke to her very soul. “I will,” Hugh repeated, his voice deeper, thicker, somehow heavier as it settled across her senses like a warm, soothing, blanket. Amelia felt her breath stop then, and Charles raised Amelia’s hand to his lips, placing a kiss upon her knuckles, which were white with tension.

  Amelia tried to loosen her fingers to no avail, and Charles swept his hand across them, back and forth, until she felt the blood rush her digits, the stinging numbness slow to recede.

  “Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

  Amelia didn’t realize she was nodding until she felt Charles’s hand steady her. He pulled her closer, tilting her chin up so he could place a kiss on her cheek. Amelia opened her eyes and looked back toward the ceremony as Maitland closed her eyes and said, “I will.”

  In that moment, Hugh turned to Amelia, expectant, and Amelia’s cheeks were wet with tears as she said those very same words to him, sotto voce. “I will.”

  Then it was time for Hugh to repeat the officiant’s words: “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Amelia watched as Hugh closed his eyes, knew he spoke to all of them, knew he was pledging himself to their care and safety.

  The rest of the ceremony fluttered by in words like heartbeats.

  Pledge, declare.

  Safety.

  Protection.

  Gracious and fruitful.

  Consecrate.

  Loving.

  Cherishing.

  Faithful and obedient.

  Peace.

  Husbands, love your wives.

  Husbands.

  Wives.

  Husbands.

  Wives.

  The phrase rolled in her head like stones in a tumbler, slowly polishing to a perfect shine.

  Husbands, love your wives.

  Amelia was quite certain they had not meant it, the way it sounded to her. She smiled.

  “Louisa, you’re no longer my lady’s maid. Please stop, sit, have some tea with me,” Amelia said as she listened to Louisa fidget in the other room with the dresses in her wardrobe.

  “Well, your new girl has packed your summer dresses in with the winter, instead of moving the winter dresses to the other wardrobe! You’ll be a…a…fright of wrinkles,” Louisa said in her typical worry pitch, her voice carrying from Amelia’s bedroom.

  “Louisa, she’s young, she’s lovely, and who’s to know if I’m a bit wrinkled anyhow?” Amelia said with a giggle.

  Louisa stepped through the doorway, her hands fisted on her hips, head cocked to the side.

  Amelia sobered, but only for a moment.

  “Oh, dear Amelia, have you annoyed my Louisa?” Maitland came through the entry to Amelia’s sitting room with a tray of tea and small cakes.

  “I’m sorry, yes, I have,” Amelia said. “You’ll need to calm her nerves a bit, I’m afraid. She’s much too concerned of the wrinkles in my wardrobe at the moment, wrinkles not a soul will see.”

  “I will see them!” Louisa screeched as Maitland took her hand and pulled her into the sitting room.

  “Look now, I brought some biscuits and tea cakes. Come sit with me,” Maitland said quietly as she turned to Amelia. “She’s concerned for us, but has no way to put that
to words, so the wrinkles will take the brunt of her consternation. For now, however, my Louisa, tea.”

  Louisa’s face instantly softened, and she allowed herself to be led. Amelia smiled and squeezed her arms about her waist, watching Louisa and Maitland together.

  Maitland’s quiet meekness and reason were the perfect balance to Louisa’s sometimes overwrought concern, and Amelia had never seen Louisa relax as much as she had since they’d all removed to Castleberry Keep.

  Relax.

  Perhaps relax wasn’t quite the proper word.

  Calm? Perhaps that was better.

  No…she wasn’t calm. In fact, her stress seemed higher, or possibly lower, or perhaps there was a different balance?

  Amelia thought about Louisa’s behavior over the past weeks.

  Amelia, Charles and Hugh, and Louisa and Maitland as well, all went day-by-day, figuring out who of the house staff could truly be trusted and who needed to be pensioned or removed to another property. Charles was adamant they find positions for each of the staff who could not remain at the Keep, and she felt blessed that the majority of the staff was to remain with them, though they were still a bit shy of the full staff required of such a grand property.

  They all still tiptoed a bit in the house, wary for the time being, but they were all quite concerned about the future. And to ensure they’d survive a lifetime together, they were happy to be overly cautious for the time being.

  Amelia saw the same thing with Louisa. She wasn’t more relaxed. It was merely that the periods between her being high-strung and—whatever it should be called—were further between. In fact…she looked at Louisa sitting next to Maitland, cozy and…calm.

  Yes, calm. She was calm.

  While at her parents, Louisa had been ever wary. So it was better, it truly was. It was merely that the difference between a calm Louisa and an overwrought Louisa was much more defined.

  Amelia smiled at having figured this out. She considered the past few weeks again. She and Charles had been married, officially, as soon as they’d returned to Castleberry Keep with the help of another license from the archbishop, and this time Louisa and Maitland were both in attendance, standing for her as Hugh stood for Charles. The ceremony had taken on more meaning than anyone else present knew.