Stephen was unsure what to say. He had not considered failure, or he had not considered what failure would do to others around him. Many scenarios had played out in his mind, and in some he had died. Those had never concerned him before he had met Constance.
He sighed. “You are right.” He looked around at the members of the camp. Not only Constance came to mind now; the others who relied on him would be affected by his death - or a distraction caused by a beautiful woman. They admired him and looked to him for guidance. If he chose to pursue Constance, he would lose focus, which would lead to failure. And if he were to fail, not only would he leave his mother’s death unavenged, his death would hurt Constance, and he could not have that happen.
“Your life is here, Stephen, with us. Whether or not you love me, I will always remain at your side. Do as you must, but think about what I have said.”
He looked down at the woman who had saved him in so many ways. “I need you as a friend,” he said. “As I always have. I could never have done any of this without you, and I do not wish to ruin it.”
“I know you do not,” she replied. “I just ask that you make no rash decisions.” She turned to leave, but Stephen stopped her.
“I remember the day you saved me and all you have done for me. I’m sorry I do not feel for you as you wish.”
“If we remain friends,” Louisa said with a smile, “then I am happy.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I must speak with Charles.”
Stephen watched her walk to Charles and lean over to hug the boy. Charles did need a father, a role Stephen had once taken upon himself. Now that the boy was twelve, however, their relationship had changed. They were now friends rather than parent and child, and Stephen was glad for that and glad they were still friends.
He glanced around. It had been very much the same with so many in the camp. When they needed him, he was there to help and guide, but once they were able to fend for themselves, he stepped back to allow them to live their lives.
Yes, he was still there when someone needed him, he always would be, but if he allowed his attention to be consumed by Constance, he would neglect the others, and he could not have that. Though so many had dire stories, they now wore smiles, including Louisa, who stood laughing with her son. The woman was right. What was more important? The happiness of one or that of many?
Chapter Twelve
The sun was bright as Constance waded out into the river. She and her sisters had finished the washing, and rather than return to hang the clothes on the line in the camp, they threw the items over tree branches and bushes to give them a chance to swim. When they were at Lankster Manor, they would never have been allowed to swim in a river, and she was pleased they had the freedom to do just that.
Her sisters splashed each other and laughed, and Constance could not help but think how beautiful they were. Not only in how they looked, for they certainly were very beautiful on the outside, but their smiles showed the beauty in their hearts, as well.
However, it was the ladies they were meant to be that continued to trouble Constance. Was it best that they remain living as outlaws despite the fact that the deeds done were good? Emma and Mary should have been in society searching for men worthy of love and honor, not swimming in rivers and living in a house made of sticks.
“Constance?” Emma said as she pushed back a strand of wet hair from her face. “Are you all right? I worry about you.”
Constance smiled. “You worry too much,” she admonished. “All is well. Look! We are swimming in a river, and it is far better than marrying those men.” As she said the last, however, the charade fell and she covered her mouth to cover a sob.
“What is it?” Mary asked as she splashed toward Constance. “Have we upset you in some way? We have done all you have asked of us.”
With misty eyes, Constance shook her head. She had wanted a better life for them. “I worry the longer we remain here in the woods the further from society you become. Yet, that society we left pushed you into the arms of men you did not love. I am troubled, for I believe we should continue on to London, for your sakes, but I must admit, I do not want to.”
“Is it because of Stephen,” Mary asked.
Constance could not lie any longer, not to her sisters nor to herself. “It is. I do like the man and will admit I do not like the thought of leaving him. However, it’s you for whom I worry. Both of you. You should be attending balls, meeting gentlemen, and preparing for a life of leisure, not out here washing clothes in a river!”
Emma, the quiet sister who said little on most occasions, placed a hand on her shoulder. “I have learned much since we arrived. I now see those who are not of aristocracy in a different way, and therefore, I have thought about my life. What if this is the life we are meant to live?”
“I’m afraid I do not understand.”
“We have been brought up as ladies of society, have we not?”
Constance nodded.
“Then suffice it to say, we will use what we learned whether we are in a house filled with servants waiting on us hand and foot or a hut filled with pesky bugs that bother us through the night.”
This made all three giggle; they had endured more than one creature, some that had made one or all of them scream with fright the first week in the camp. Now, they might still shriek at first sign of an unwanted crawler, but they no longer climbed on the beds in terror.
“Mary and I have spoken of our life here, and we are in agreement. Whether we remain for a day or a year, we will always be the women mother raised us to be. Whatever you decide, we will honor, for we know you have our best interests at heart.”
Constance shook her head, overcome with love for her sisters. They had grown since being forced to leave Lankster Manor. “I forget how grown you both are,” she said as the water swirled around them. “You would have made Mother and Father proud. I am amazing how much you have grown in heart in mind since we have been here. So many ladies would have never been able to endure washing clothes and doing chores, but you have done so without complaint.”
Despite her words, Constance was still unsure if they should remain or go. Each option had its own merits and downfalls, and she had to take time to consider both before making a final decision.
Mary seemed to sense her uncertainty. “You do not need to rush in your decision,” she counseled. “I enjoy spending time with Robert, and I believe Emma feels the same for Luke.”
Emma’s face went crimson. “It is because he is a vicar, and I wish to learn from him. Nothing more.”
“Is that why you are always smiling at him?” Mary teased, and Constance laughed.
The two younger sisters bickered, though it was done in a playful way, and Constance sighed. She had some time to make her decision; it was not as if they had to leave right away.
They swam for a while longer, and when they emerged from the water, they gathered the now dry clothing in the baskets. Constance looked back over the river. Never had she been more content.
She turned to her sisters. “Return to the camp; I will join you shortly. I want to spend some time here alone.”
Mary frowned. “Are you sure it will be safe?”
Constance pulled her knife from its sheath and placed it on a rock. “Yes, quite sure.”
With a shrug, the two girls dressed, picked up a basket each and left down the path leading to the camp. Constance settled herself on a rock on the bank of the river. It was a tranquil place, and though her feet were already pruned, she placed them in the water, leaned back on her hands, and closed her eyes to listen to the burbling flow of the river.
She was unsure how long she sat there, but the quiet sent her thoughts in a lull.
“A blade does no good if an enemy can take it.”
Constance leaped from the boulder with a screech, missed her footing, and fell backward into the water, coming to the surface sputtering and coughing. She shot Stephen a glare as she pulled herself from the river and came to stand in front of
him. How she wished he was close enough to the bank to push into the river! It was more than he deserved!
“Can you no longer speak?” he asked with a laugh.
She gave him a defiant glare. “I can. You startled me is all.”
“Forgive me,” he said with a bow. His eyes flickered for a moment, and she glanced down. She had forgotten she was still in her shift! Mortified, she crossed her arms over the bodice of the clinging garment, wishing her dress was not still hanging on a branch of a tree behind Stephen.
“I wished to speak to you alone,” Stephen said as if she was not standing there half naked in a garment that revealed almost as much as if it were not present. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” she replied. “Do you mind if I dress first?”
He chuckled. “Not at all.”
She donned the dress, glad it had no stays or buttons that would require another person to help. She would return to the camp and sneak to the hut in her shift before asking him to help her dress!
“I have been wanting to speak to you, as well,” she said, glad he was not watching her dress. She went to a large log and sat, and Stephen joined her. It felt odd being alone with him. It was not that she thought the man would harm her or do something in appropriate, but with the confusion she had been suffering, she worried it would be she who kissed him!
“My actions that day when we rescued Anna and Beatrice,” he said as he looked at his hands. “You did not deserve to be spoken to as you were. You must understand. The pain of losing my mother has made me worry I will lose someone else for whom I care.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He cared for her! “Stephen, if I may…”
“Please, allow me to finish,” he interrupted. “I have not known you long, but I cannot deny how I feel about you. You have so many qualities that I admire.”
“And I admire you,” Constance replied, wanting so badly to reach out and take his hand. “The way you help others, how you take care of the camp, everything you have done for me and my sisters. That is what a gentleman does – puts others before himself.”
He gave her a weak smile. “I may not be able to deny how I feel about you, but I can deny myself from acting on those feelings.”
Constance shook her head. “The kiss,” she said. “I know I pulled away from you. I enjoyed it.” She felt her cheeks heat at this admission. “However, it also scared me. You see, there was a man once not long ago. His name was Duncan. We were in love, and I thought we would marry.”
“You do not have to tell me.”
“But I do, not only for myself but so you can understand. I have carried the burden far too long.”
“Then release this burden,” Stephen said as he turned to her. “I’m listening.”
Constance smiled and looked down at the hand that covered hers. Though the touch was comforting, it was the man himself who provided that comfort. “Duncan had spoken his wishes to marry me, but my mother fell ill. As her health worsened, I refused to leave her side. My stepfather, Phillip, was never there. In fact, he took women to his bed, just as he had done before.”
She closed her eyes, thinking of the horrible man and the woman he brought to Lankster Manor while his wife lay dying under the same roof. The memory made her feel ill, but she had to purge it from her mind. “My sisters did not know; I kept it from them for their own sake. And Duncan, though he held sympathy for my situation, he became angry at the number of events I missed and did not understand why I refused to leave my mother’s bedside, for she was ill for many months. But how could I?” She looked at Stephen through a mist of tears. “He soon grew angry enough with me to call off the engagement. It was not long after he found another woman, who he married. I vowed never to trust a man with my heart again. Then I met you.”
With a sigh, she allowed the tears to run down her cheeks unchecked. “I am afraid, and I am unsure what to do. My heart is ready to love again, but I worry for my sisters and the life they will be forced to lead. Therefore, is it worth the risk?”
Stephen reached over and wiped away the tears from her face. “The burdens you have carried have been great, but you have great strength.”
“I appreciate you saying so, but what of us?”
Stephen nodded. “Perhaps I should explain about my past so you may understand why I struggle.”
***
Stephen carried many burdens, and the thought of sharing even one of them with Constance made him hesitate. Could he encumber her with his troubles? Yet, she had revealed to him the anguish of her past; he had to reveal his if for no other reason than to get her to understand why they could not be together, not in the sense she would like.
He looked down at the once smooth soft hand that rested in his. They were now callused and rough from weeks of chores. No lady should be forced to endure such a life as those who lived in the camp. Her place was in a grand home, pampered by servants and a husband who could give her everything her heart desired. How it hurt him he could not give her that life.
“I once loved a woman, Lady Alice Peele.”
Constance gave him a knowing smile. He had wondered that day of the rescue if she had recognized the name of Hartford, but now he knew she had, and she confirmed it with her words.
“The women from Hartford, Anna and Beatrice, you mentioned this woman to them. She is the same?”
Stephen nodded. “We were betrothed, but it was not an ailing mother who drove us apart. When my estate and family fell into ruin, I was told it caused her embarrassment and she could no longer marry me. At the time, I was angry. How could a woman who claims to love a man deny that love simply because he has no riches?” He sighed. How hard it was to remember! “I understand now that it may have been more the wishes of her parents than she, but they only wanted what was best for her. What could I have given her but this life?”
“This is not such a bad life,” Constance said. “I admit I have had to adjust in my way of thinking, but that does not mean I cannot live it.”
He studied her for a moment. This woman was far different from Alice, and yet, she was very much like her in her aptitude and competency. However, no woman wished to be compared to a past love!
The next part of his reveal was more difficult to discuss, and he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. “I spoke briefly how my mother lost her life and that it was Louisa who found me.”
“I remember,” Constance replied and then looked down at the ground. “I have asked this before, but I must ask again. Do you love her? Or rather did you love her once?”
“I have always loved her as a friend. You see, Louisa is…” He stopped. It was not for him to tell Louisa’s secrets, and so he changed what he was going to say. “Louisa has done far more than I could have expected from anyone. It was she who cared for me when I was healing. She lent me money when I needed it. I cannot count the number of times she has helped me in the past twelve years.”
“She is a strong woman,” Constance whispered. “And quite beautiful. I see the looks she gives you; a woman recognizes these things. I came between the two of you. Is that the reason you do not want me?”
Stephen’s heart ached to ease her worry. “Though it is a part of it, it is not what you think. Let me explain.” Seeing tears well in the woman’s eyes made his heart clench. “I swore to Louisa many years ago that together we would find the man who killed my mother. We would help others until that day came, but at that time, finding that man was my main goal in life. Yet, the more we helped others, the more my goals changed. I still wish to find the murderous fiend who killed my mother, but that is no longer what stands in the forefront of what I must do in my life.” He smiled. “And then you arrived; a woman who captivated me with her beauty and strength.”
“I cannot compare to the lady Louisa is,” Constance said, a sadness to her voice. “I pale in comparison, and she has been in this camp for so long.” She shook her head. “She dresses in men’s clothing and can do anything a man can do, and yet
she is more a lady than I could ever be.”
“No,” Stephen insisted, placing a finger on her chin and forcing her to look at him. “You possess traits as strong as she.” Her tear-filled eyes stirred something inside him. She wore such a look of innocence, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and keep her safe. Yet, he knew if he did not, she had the strength to do it herself. And she would need that strength with what he had to explain next.
“I say all this for one reason,” he continued in a low voice. “Though I wish my heart to be yours, my allegiance is not to my heart. It is to the camp and those within it. I must put everything into our cause - and to find the man who killed my mother. I cannot lose focus in order to give you the attention you would need.”
Constance wiped her eyes. “I understand. I must admit that what you say hurts, but you are an honorable man, and for that I admire you all the more.”
An idea occurred to him. “I do not wish you and your sisters to leave; I have more I wish to teach you. And though I cannot promise anything, I may have a way to return all three of you to society once more.” What he did not say was that he would have to convince Louisa to make it happen, but for now he only wanted to see the women safe and back in the life to which they were accustomed.
He looked down at her rough hands again. This was no life for Constance. “I will tell you more when I have more in place, but no matter what you decide, whether it be to remain here in the camp or go where I wish to send you, I want to thank you.”
She gave him a confused look. “Thank me? I’ve done nothing for which I should be commended.”
Stephen smiled. “Oh, but you have. You have shown me it is possible to care for someone again. To feel here.” He tapped his chest where his heart was. “And for that, I will always be grateful.”
“Then I suppose I must thank you, as well. I had thought I would never care for another man after Duncan; however, I have come to care for you very deeply. And though we cannot share this joy, I understand why. I will respect your wishes and remain your friend.”
Rogues Always Wear Black: A Steamy British Historical Romance Novel (Forbidden Kisses Book 1) Page 11