Her Enemy At the Altar

by Virginia Heath

  Afterwards, she had shyly led him by the hand to her bed and let him undress her in the daylight, allowing him to spend the rest of the afternoon showing her just how lovely she was. Now they were lying together drowsily, her head resting on his chest, his fingers idling twining in her hair, both lost in their own thoughts. She had no idea what Aaron was thinking, but Connie was considering the best possible way to broach the spectre that tortured him. It stood between them more impassable than any feud or silly misunderstanding could.

  ‘Tell me about your nightmares, Aaron.’

  She felt his ribs rise as he inhaled slowly and fall as he sighed it out. Almost in resignation. ‘What do you want to know?’

  He was obviously not going to volunteer anything unless she pushed him. ‘How long have you had them?’

  ‘Three years now. They came infrequently at first, but since I came home I have them every night.’ His fingers twirled around one lock of hair intently as he lapsed back into silence.

  ‘What are they about?’

  ‘The war. Battle. Death.’

  Beneath her fingers she felt the muscles on his abdomen tense. His explanation might be superficial, but his memories were not. Connie let her palms rub his chest in lazy, soothing circles but she could sense his growing discomfort. Every limb was rigid with tension—as if he feared even speaking of it. But she knew instinctively that he had to. It was eating him from the inside.

  ‘Explain one of them to me. I want to understand what happens in your dreams.’

  ‘They are all the same, Connie,’ he said impatiently, shifting his body so that he could sit up and put some distance between them. ‘Every night I have to see the same things again and relive the horror of that night. Please don’t ask me to talk about it.’

  She had to. He had to verbalise it so that he could face his demons. ‘Is it the night that Fletcher died?’

  Aaron stilled instantly. His eyes were ravaged with pain and disgust and shame. ‘What do you know about Fletcher?’

  ‘I know that you think you killed him. I know that the mere thought of that is tearing you apart.’

  ‘I did kill him, Connie!’ All the fight went out of him as he buried his face in his hands. ‘He was my responsibility and I put him in harm’s way. In fact, it was worse than that. I used him to save myself.’

  Aaron waited for her censure or her disgust, but instead she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. ‘Tell me what happened.’

  ‘Wellington ordered us to take Ciudad Rodrigo—one of the most heavily fortified and impenetrable fortresses on the northern border. My regiment was in the thick of the assault, under the command of Major-General Mackinnon. He was a good man. A great soldier. Fletcher joined my regiment shortly before we arrived in Spain. He was not a good soldier. In fact, he was one of the worst soldiers I have ever had to command. He was lazy and kept shirking his duties. This got worse once we surrounded the castle. For days we were under constant fire from the enemy soldiers as we dug trenches for cover. Fletcher kept disappearing from the front. While the other men dug and risked their lives, he hid himself away. As his commanding officer, it was my job to keep him in line and I suppose I became frustrated with his lack of effort or solidarity with the rest of the men. After five days under constant cannon fire, we managed to get close enough to begin to attack the main walls, and finally we made a huge breach in one of the corners. Mackinnon decided to storm the fortress. We filled the ditch with sandbags so that we could get across it and then began to scramble up the wreckage of the walls. I kept Fletcher close to me, convinced that he would run or do something equally as stupid in a pathetic attempt to save his own skin, but at the wall he just froze. I knew he was terrified—but we all were. There were two big cannons above our heads and the enemy were poised ready to fire them. We were sitting ducks. The French were firing musket balls down on us—each time they reloaded they fell like hail. Speed was of the essence and Fletcher was putting us all in danger with his dithering. I tried to reason with him, to no avail, so in the end I grabbed the collar of his uniform and called him a coward. I pushed him up the wall in front of me, dragging him up against his will. He was crying and pleading with me to let him go.’

  Aaron’s skin was now deathly pale and his voice became strangled with emotion. ‘The next thing I knew, I was flying through the air. There was a fireball and a loud explosion and then everything went black. I have no idea how long I lay there. When I came around it was carnage. The enemy had mined the breach and had waited until we were all on it to detonate the grenades. Half of my regiment died. MacKinnon died. Fletcher died. Horribly. But I did not. He had begged me to let him go and I dragged him to his death. I used Fletcher’s body as a shield.’

  Poor Aaron. So consumed with guilt that he could not see past it to the reality. ‘It was Napoleon’s troops who killed Fletcher—not you, Aaron.’

  ‘But I held him in front of me.’

  ‘You pulled him on to the wall. You did it to save the lives of the rest of your men. He was putting them all in danger. You did not know there were mines there, nor could you have known they would be detonated. Why did you not let Fletcher go as he asked? What difference would it have made if he had run away?’

  That question appeared to flummox him and she watched him consider different possible scenarios in his head.

  ‘He would have been left alone.’

  ‘Why did you not want him to be alone, Aaron?’

  His handsome face crumpled as he tried to think of some other reason, other than the truth, to punish himself with. In the end, he shook his head violently.

  ‘He died because of me, Connie. The tiny details aren’t important.’

  Yes, they were. The tiny details were everything. ‘Why did you not want Fletcher to be left alone Aaron?’

  ‘He would have been a target.’ The words came out in a shudder. ‘Alone he did not stand a chance.’

  ‘You were trying to keep Fletcher safe, too, then. He was lazy and he was a coward, but you still tried to save him. He would have died alone. You have to remember that, too. Don’t punish yourself for what happened Aaron. It was horrible and it was tragic, and I am not surprised that it haunts you still, but it wasn’t your fault.’

  He let her pull him back down on to the mattress, buried his face in her hair and Connie felt all of that pent-up emotion leave his body as he clung to her as if his very life depended on it. ‘Sometimes the nightmares take me when I am awake, Connie. The present disappears and I am back in Spain. I have no control over it. I seriously think I might be going mad.’

  She kissed his head and rocked him gently. ‘Does that happen every day, too? Is that why you shut yourself away?’

  He shook his head. ‘Just twice. You have been present for both of them.’

  The blood. He had seen blood and he had frozen. ‘Those episodes passed quickly, Aaron. I do not think that you are going mad. You really need to give yourself a bit more credit. Not only have you lived through all of the horrors that the war could throw at you, life has not been particularly easy for you since you returned home. It is no wonder that it has all felt a little overwhelming at times. Lack of sleep, your father’s health, the estate, having to marry me.’

  He was silent for a moment, as he absorbed her words. ‘Do you think this madness is temporary, then?’

  Absently, she twined her fingers in his hair. ‘I do. It might take months for you to feel normal again—perhaps a little longer—but I have no doubt that you will bounce back in time. Please stop being so hard on yourself.’

  That seemed to calm him and she finally felt him relax. After several minutes, he propped himself up on to his elbow and gazed down at her adoringly. ‘I thought that you would hate me if I told you.’

  ‘I could never hate you, Aaron.’ She smiled up at him, amazed to know that he could be a
s insecure as she was. This appeared to please him.

  ‘That is good because your opinion of me matters more than anyone else’s. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Connie. I love you with all of my heart.’

  That was the second time that he had claimed to love her. There was such longing in his eyes that she almost believed him.

  Almost.

  A lump formed in her throat that made speech impossible. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, too, but the words would not come. As much as she wanted to believe him she had to be realistic. He was vulnerable and upset and he might not truly mean them. And she was too vulnerable and wanted it all to be true so desperately that she was genuinely terrified that it might not be. Connie was not sure that her fragile heart could take that. All she had ever truly wanted felt as if it might be finally in her grasp—a place to belong, a proper home, a family, someone to love who loved her in return—and yet still she was too scared to reach for it. What if he regretted his declaration in the morning? How could she pretend her heart was not broken if he knew how much he filled it?

  Until she was certain, it was best to leave things as they were. There was every chance that, once he was over his crisis, Aaron might still wish to be released from the marriage. Instead of saying the words, she tried to show him how she felt with her body, making love to him until he finally collapsed exhausted in her arms and slept. Only then did she dare whisper what she had been certain of for some time.

  ‘I love you, too, Aaron Wincanton. I always will.’

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  They were eating breakfast when Deaks announced the arrival of the Earl of Redbridge. Unsure of what to expect, they both entered the morning room with some trepidation. An Earl of Redbridge had never so much as set foot on Wincanton soil before. Something was clearly very wrong. Her father stood ramrod straight with his back to them, staring out of the French windows. Sat in a chair was her younger brother, Henry, his expression haughtily indifferent as he examined his cuffs and refusing to meet either of their eyes. As if he had not just betrayed his sister as Aaron had predicted he would, choosing her father over her and dashing all of her hopes for her future.

  Instinctively, Aaron wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist. Whatever mischief was about to befall them; they would face it together. He would be her rock as she had been his last night.

  ‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’

  Connie’s father appeared to be furious. He turned to them angrily, shooting Connie a special look of disdain before he fixed his gaze on Aaron. ‘My son has informed me that you intend to build a quarry on the land adjacent to my property.’

  While this was news to Aaron, he shrugged arrogantly. ‘What of it?’

  ‘I will not allow it!’ Tiny flecks of spittle had gathered in the corner of the earl’s mouth and they sprayed outwards as he spoke, like liquid hatred.

  ‘The land is mine to do with as I see fit.’

  Connie’s brother stood up then and walked towards his father. ‘Harsh words will not fix this. Tell him civilly what you propose.’

  The old man began to practically vibrate with anger. He shot Connie another frigid look, blinked and then cleared his throat awkwardly.

  ‘I have come here to offer to buy the land from you. Five thousand pounds should cover it. That is well over what it is worth.’

  It was a tempting offer. Aaron felt Connie inhale in shock. This must be torture for her. She loved her family and desperately wanted to be reunited with them, but now she had been betrayed by her brother, too. It broke his heart to see her so silent and submissive. Her one and only hope of going back home was slipping away in front of her eyes.

  ‘I have a counter-offer. How about I keep the land for myself, but promise never to disturb it in return for something other than money?’

  Three heads whipped in his direction. The earl’s eyes had narrowed and he was watching Aaron like a hawk.

  ‘What do you propose?’

  It was the right thing to do, he knew it in his heart. That did not mean that saying it would shatter his heart into tiny pieces. But he loved Connie and he owed her. It had not escaped his notice that she had not claimed to return his love. Twice he had told her how he felt about her last night and twice she had remained silent. Although the truth had wounded him he understood it. She had never wanted this marriage. Or him.

  ‘Let Connie live at Redbridge House. As long as she is happy and well cared for, you have my word that I will not quarry that land.’

  Oh, good grief! He was such a stubborn and honourable man. Only a person truly in love would propose such a selfless and noble thing. Connie’s heart was positively brimming with so much joy that it was almost impossible to contain. She had wanted true proof of his affections and now she had it. He was sacrificing his own happiness for hers. Again.

  And it needed to be nipped in the bud.

  ‘Aaron—if I might have a word?’

  His wife was glaring at him with such animosity that it brought Aaron up short. She marched stiffly from the morning room, forcing him to trail behind, wondering why she was so very annoyed when he was doing his level best to make her happy. She led him into the room next door, closed the door behind them and then promptly grabbed him by his lapels.

  ‘How dare you! I have a good mind to go upstairs and get The Complete Farmer so that I can beat some sense into your thick skull.’

  That was not the reaction he had been hoping for. ‘This is a chance for you to be with the people you love most, Connie,’ he replied, somewhat bewildered by the fire in her eyes. ‘You have repeatedly asked to be free of this marriage and have wished for the day when you could go home again. This expedites the process. I thought it would please you.’

  ‘Then you are a fool, Aaron Wincanton. I only wished for those things when I thought you married me out of obligation and certainly before I realised that you loved me. I might have neglected to tell you last night, but you happen to be the person I love the most in the whole world, silly man, so your selfless and noble gesture is misplaced.’ She actually shook him then. ‘I want no more ridiculous talk of annulments or of sending me back to live with my horrid father. You’ve seen what a nasty piece of work he is. What on earth makes you think that I would rather go back and live with him? To him I am a disappointment. Here, I am adored. I want to stay with you and if you think that you can get rid of me that easily then you are sorely mistaken. I am a Wincanton and Wincantons live at Ardleigh Manor. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?’

  She loved him! He had stopped listening as soon as she had said that and had simply enjoyed watching the spectacle of her flouncing and venting. It was such a glorious sight to see. Aaron could not prevent the huge grin from spreading over his face or from kissing her until they were both breathless. Looking delightfully rumpled, Connie made a valiant effort to fix her hair before she waved her finger at him as if he was an errant schoolboy.

  ‘Let me deal with my father. Clearly you have no head for doing business.’

  At that she flounced back into the morning room like a warrior queen—his own personal demon slayer—off to slay the Earl of Redbridge. He almost pitied the man.

  ‘We want ten thousand pounds for the land.’

  The Earl of Redbridge balked. ‘That is preposterous. Ardleigh only paid seven!’

  ‘I suspect that Mr Thomas cost the Wincanton estate significantly more than the three-thousand-pounds difference, therefore I believe that ten thousand is a reasonable sum.’ Connie folded her arms across her chest and regarded her father with haughty disdain. ‘You were paying that wastrel Deal twenty thousand to take me off of your hands. Aaron is only asking half of that.’

  ‘I won’t pay it!’

  ‘Then leave and let us quarry the land in peace. We will soon make more than ten thousand. Unless Sir G
erald makes us a more tempting offer for it. He has already expressed an interest and holds me in the highest regard.’

  ‘You have allowed this Wincanton to seduce you and turn you against your own family, Constance.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Father. The only person I have turned against is you. If you cannot pay, then I wish you good day. We are done.’

  She spun on her heel and stalked towards Aaron slowly. Only he could see the slight smile that touched her lovely lips. She was enjoying herself. The minx.

  ‘Wait...’

  Connie stopped walking, but did not turn around.

  ‘Ten thousand it is, then. Devil take you, Constance!’

  ‘The money needs to be with my husband before this week is out or the deal is void. We shall have our solicitor draw up the agreements.’

  Ours. Aaron liked the sound of that. The Earl of Redbridge didn’t.

  ‘Henry, our business here is concluded. Let’s go.’

  Henry Stuart turned towards his father. ‘I shall be out in a moment. I wish to speak to Constance first.’

  The older man was practically quivering with rage. ‘I said now, Henry!’

  ‘Go and wait in the carriage, Father.’ The younger man delivered this with such icy calmness that his father stood gaping at him for several seconds before he marched out of the front door.

  Connie went to her brother and hugged him. ‘How did you get him to come here?’

  ‘It was quite simple really. I merely informed him of the twenty, ugly, smoke-billowing lime kilns that you were going build to block his view and lamented the fact that there would be trade going on right on our doorstep. He nearly had an apoplexy.’ Henry turned towards Aaron, smiling and held out his hand. ‘Connie has told me a great deal about you and I trust her judgement implicitly. I cannot vouch for my father, but you have my word that I will not continue this silly feud.’