by Abby Ayles
He was beyond grateful. He had no inkling how he could have made it through the past years without Thomas by his side.
The old man’s response was a simple nod.
There was another moment of silence, but the spell was soon broken.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Thomas asked.
Did he? Stephen wondered. He did not know if he was ready to share it yet.
Several times, Thomas had tried to ask him about Judith. Yet, somehow, Stephen always found a way to avoid the conversation.
At that moment, he came to the realization that he was tired. He was tired of keeping it all in and did not want to have to do it anymore.
So, he drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and told his dear friend everything.
The way she made him feel, how she had made his world better, how he had fallen hopelessly in love. All that had happened from the very beginning until the night before.
When he was done, he found that he felt lighter. He had not realized how much he had needed to let it all out.
“That is quite a lot,” Thomas said as he finished.
“Is that all you have to say?”
Thomas smiled. It was a sad one.
“I always have more to say, Your Grace. The question is whether you want to hear it.”
“Why does that sound too much like a threat?”
Thomas’s smile widened. “Because you already fear that you would not like what I have to say.”
Stephen could not say that was not the case. Still, he insisted.
“For once, please, do not let that stop you.”
Thomas held his gaze, and he tried not to look away, refusing to change his mind.
When his butler finally spoke, it wasn’t an answer.
“If you wish, but foremost, I would like to hear what you plan to do.”
“Send her away,” Stephen replied, without any hesitation.
It was not something he had consciously given any thought to, but as the words left his lips, he realized it was what he must do.
“Your Grace?”
“You heard me, Thomas. We both know she was only supposed to stay for a short while. She has stayed far too long. I promised her shelter until the roads were safe for travel. Well, she can go to her aunt’s place in Yorkland. The roads on that side of the country are safe enough now.”
“Are you sure that is what you truly desire?”
“Why not? It is what I should have done the moment those first letters arrived. I should have taken her to Earlshire and left her there. She would have been long gone by now.”
If she had not stayed for so long, he never would have fallen in love with her.
You wouldn’t have learned to smile again either, a voice whispered in his head, but he ignored it.
It was never meant to be. Happiness … forever … the things she had made him dream of having … they weren’t for him.
He had been a fool to let himself dream, regardless. Now, he had to wake up and return to reality.
He was a sick man. Last night was proof that the fits were far from gone. They might stay away for some time, but they would always return.
It was only a matter of time before the day would come when he would not wake again.
Beyond that, it had become clear that Judith would never be satisfied with what he had given her already. She would always want more.
But he could not give her any more. He could not tell her of that night. He certainly could not condemn her to loving a man who would always mourn the family he lost. A man who would soon join that family in the afterlife.
“We have fooled each other enough. I am as good as a dead man, and she still has her entire life ahead of her. I must let her go now, so she can truly be happy.”
“And if that is not what she wants?”
“It matters not. I no longer want her in my home. She has no choice but to leave. Begin arrangements. Inform her of my decision and have a carriage ready to take her and Miss Mitchell to Yorkland tomorrow. They have the day to prepare.”
As he finished, Thomas heaved a deep sigh.
“Pity,” he said. “I had grown quite fond of the ladies. They’re so sweet and dear. They will surely be missed by all of Dunham.”
Stephen’s resolve weakened, his heart aching.
I will miss her the most.
Despite his thoughts, he insisted, “Dunham will do very well without her. Do as I say.”
Thomas bowed. “As you wish, Your Grace.”
Nothing more was said between them.
The butler soon quitted the chamber, and, once again, Stephen was all alone.
***
When Stephen finally decided to leave his chambers, he went to his study. Sadly, he could barely get anything done.
He was troubled, restless.
Thoughts of Judith consumed him, and it proved almost impossible to stay away from her.
Thomas had done as he had said. A carriage had been hired for the journey, and the ladies had begun to prepare for their departure.
He had wanted to ask how they had received the news, but he had stopped himself, not wanting to seem pitiful.
Instead, he had let his mind wander, wondering if she had been sad or angry. If she had pretended to be strong, only to break down in tears when no one was watching.
He wondered if she would come to detest him, or if she would care for him still. If she would ever forgive him for turning her away so harshly. If she would pardon him for the way he had spoken to her the day before.
Whenever he remembered how angry he had been, and the words he had said to her, he wished he could turn back time and do things differently.
He had been handling the matter so well. How had things suddenly gone badly?
He remained in his study, unable to stop thinking about her. Eventually, he decided to end the mad torture.
He found her in her chamber, packing. Amy was with her.
It was just as well, he told himself. If he had to speak with her alone, he feared he might not be able to hold on to his resolve.
“Your Grace,” Judith greeted as he entered, sinking into a curtsy. Amy did the same.
He nodded at them both. “My lady, Miss Mitchel. I see that you are getting ready to leave.”
“Yes,” Judith answered. “We thought it would be wise to pack our valises this evening if we hope to leave at first light tomorrow. The journey to Yorkland is a two-day ride from here, I hear.”
“Yes. I have examined the carriage, myself. It is new and strong. The horses, too. The coachman is well traveled and familiar with the routes. He knows the best inns to rest at and the paths to take. I have also instructed him to be very careful.”
“Thank, Your Grace. You need not have troubled yourself so on our account. You have been most kind.”
He swallowed, still refusing to look her in the eye.
“It is the least I could do to ease my conscience,” he said.
“I see,” she responded.
Clearing his throat, he looked around the room, anywhere but at her.
“I pray the weather remains good, and I bid you safe travels.”
He turned to leave then but she stopped him.
“Your Grace!”
His heart stirred as he turned around, finally holding her gaze.
“It appears I might not see you before I leave tomorrow. In that case, there are some things I wish to say.” She paused, swallowing hard. “Amy and I might not have survived had we not stumbled upon your giant gates. We might not have lived through the cold night. If we had, and had managed to find shelter amongst the villagers, I do not think we would have received the sort of welcome that has been given to us here. What was only meant to last a few days, has instead lasted almost three months.”
She stopped as her voice cracked. Stephen felt a hand wrap around his heart and squeeze. His stomach knotted.
“Not once were we ever made to feel as though we did not belong here. Not once. We
have been treated royally, with the utmost respect and warmth. You have only ever been gracious. It was easy for us to forget that we were not home in Charleveaux or at my aunt’s because Dunham started feeling like home somewhere along the way.”
She paused again. This time, to draw in a long breath.
“The time here, however short, has changed me forever. I will never forget the memories made here. So, thank you, for your hospitality and, most especially, for your friendship. Because of it, I did not feel so lonely.”
Stephen’s eyes started to sting, and he marveled at the strange sensation.
Could it be?
Surely not? It could not be tears. He had thought himself incapable of producing any after his losses.
Yet, as his eyes filled, he knew that, once again, this woman had given him something he had thought he could never again have.
“I shall miss Dunham very much, and I shall miss the people. I hope that the light and warmth do not go out after we leave. I hope things continue as they are now and that you all live long, hale, and heart lives. Thank you, Your Grace.”
As she finished, she sank into a deep and graceful curtsy, and Stephen could swear he saw a tear break free from her eyes.
His throat began to close. His chest felt tight. His mind was all muddled, and he could not think clearly.
He could only feel. A myriad of emotions he could not quite explain. Hearing her say those words had nearly broken him. Seeing her still sunk in her curtsy, her pretty head bowed in gratitude, made things even more difficult for him.
How could he let her leave like this? How could he let her leave at all? Without once telling her the healing she had wrought on his heart?
Without ever saying those words, the truth of how much he loved her.
How could he let her depart from his side when he knew he would spend the rest of his days in misery, missing her, pining for her?
The remainder of my days.
That was right. It was the reason why he was doing this, was it not? To spare her. Because his days were numbered.
“Please, my lady, rise,” he croaked.
She did as he asked, and when she looked him in the eye, he saw the tears flowing down hers, shamelessly.
He swallowed with difficulty because of the lump lodged in his throat. There were so many things he had to say but knowing he could not, he settled for a few simple words.
“If only you knew how much you have done for me, you would know that it is I who should be filled with such gratitude, and I am. Thank you, Lady Judith. For everything. Goodbye.”,
He turned around and walked out of the room, barely reaching the door before the tears began to pour from his eyes.
There was a pain in his chest so bad, it made it difficult to breathe.
He walked hurriedly to his chamber, seeking solace and privacy. When he finally found it, he fell to the ground and cried.
He wept for the years gone, the love lost, the cruelty of fate that still seemed so vindictive.
He mourned his broken heart, and hers.
The heart he had broken in his bid to protect her.
Chapter 29
He did not go to bid her goodbye.
Judith had known he did not intend to when he visited her chambers the night before to say his farewells. Still, she had hoped he would be there that morning as they left.
That she would look upon his face one last time and perhaps, finally summon up the courage to tell him of her heart’s feelings.
She had said a lot to him, that much was true. However, she had failed to say the most important things.
That she loved him, and that her heart was breaking. That she was already sick from missing him and she feared she would not be able to survive without him.
She had been unable to breathe properly since Mr. Beauregard told them Stephen had asked that they leave his home.
She wanted to tell him she was sorry, she had many regrets, and wished she could turn the back hands of time so, that things would go back to the way they were before that unfortunate day.
Alas, he would never know all of that.
Judith stalled for as long as she could, hoping he would change his mind and come to wish them farewell. As it became increasingly clear that would not happen, she finally gave up hope and let Mr. Beauregard help her into the carriage.
She took one last look at Dunham as she settled in the carriage, then at the servants. Forcing a warm smile, she raised her hand and waved.
She had said her goodbyes the day before, but the entire household had still left their duties to bid her safe travels.
She would miss them all terribly. She wished she did not have to leave but she must.
Stephen no longer cared for her, and Dunham had never been her home.
These were the thoughts that remained with her as the carriage began to roll out of Dunham. When the giant gates shut behind them, her heart broke into further pieces.
It was all over now. Truly over.
***
The ride was quiet. Amy must have realized how terribly sad Judith was, for she held her peace as well. Every now and then, Judith felt her maid’s gaze upon her face, but it did not linger too long. Since Mr. Beauregard had made the announcement, Amy had not tried to ask any questions.
Judith knew she had many; there was curiosity in her eyes. There was also sadness and understanding of the need to simply support her lady until she was ready to speak.
As they rode further away from Dunham, Judith let herself think of him and all the precious moments they had shared together.
She wondered if he would miss her at all, if he would ever forgive her, if she would see him again.
A sigh slipped from her lips, and her heart ached anew. Life was not fair.
She had hoped that, at the very least, if they ever had to part, it would be on a good note. Even if they never became more than they already were, that they would remain amiable.
It appeared she had hoped for too much.
She would not be able to write him fond letters, telling him of the life she had returned to. He would not be inclined to write any in return.
He would only exist in her memories.
She sighed again.
This was what it felt like to be heartbroken. She supposed it was something everyone had to experience once in a lifetime.
This was simply her time.
She must have fallen asleep because when she came to, the carriage was rolling to a stop.
“Amy? What is it?” she asked as she fully awakened.
“I believe we’ve arrived at the inn where we’ll be resting for the night. The skies are starting to grow dark,” Amy responded.
“Oh. Very well.”
Judith peeked out of the window then, and saw the inn. It was a two-story, wooden building, with a colorful sign hanging outside that proclaimed it as the “Seafarer Inn”.
“The Seafarer Inn,” she thought aloud. It was quite an uncommon name for an inn and not to be easily forgotten.
In no time, the coachman came to the door, held it open and helped them down one after the other.
“We will be resting here tonight, my lady,” he explained as Judith’s feet touched the ground.
She nodded and took her time looking around, taking in the ambience, the scenery, and the caliber of people she saw walking about.
The inn reminded her of the one where they had stayed on their way from London. Only this was bigger and seemed livelier. People went and came freely, filling the air with their chatter.
There were common folk and nobles such as herself. She could tell from their clothing which was which. At one side of a wide courtyard stood the stables and on the other carriages, coaches, and carts were parked.
The Seafarer Inn seemed quite charming, she thought. It looked like a cozy family home from the outside, and she wondered what the inside was like.
“What village are we in, Mr. Hanks?”
“Berfount, my Lady. Only
four villages away from Earlshire.”
Judith nodded. She must have been asleep for a long time. She had not even noticed when they had passed her aunt’s home.
“You’ll like it here, my lady, you’ll see. The Seafarer Inn has stood in this spot for over two centuries,” the coachman began, as he lifted their valises out of the carriage. “It is a particular favorite for travelers who take this path regularly. We’ll sleep her tonight and continue our journey to Yorkland tomorrow. Thank heavens the weather has been kind so far. We are making good progress. If it remains this way, we will be at your aunt’s by nightfall tomorrow.”