The door opened and light seeped in from the hallway.
“Beth?” Phillip called out to her. He stepped further in and went to the windows to pull back the covering allowing sunlight to brighten the space. He turned. “Ah, there you are. Hiding, are you?”
She shrugged.
He strode across the room to sit near her. “Beth?”
“Hmmm?”
“We will get through this.”
“Will we?” She finally turned to him. He had dark circles under his eyes as well. His hair was still in place and everything about him spoke of tidy splendor. She was dirty rags next to him.
He reached for her hand. “I love you, Beth.”
Her gaze fell to the floor.
“When will you be ready to travel to Stanton Hall?”
“As soon as Elsa can pack my things.”
“Do you want to leave tomorrow or the day after?”
“Tomorrow is fine.”
“Are you really well enough to travel?”
“If I can lay in bed all day I can recline in a carriage for two or more.”
“We can take it slow.”
“I’d rather just get there.”
“It’ll be as you wish. Is there anything you’d like me to arrange for you to have before we leave? I can send a footman or Elsa to pick up books for you or material. Whatever you desire.”
“I lack nothing. You’ve done more for me than I deserve.”
“You are my wife. I’d do more if you’d allow me.”
“Thank you, Phillip.”
He sighed. “I realize you’re grieving. We lost a child. But you haven’t lost me. I’m still here. Waiting. I’ll return in a few hours.”
She nodded and he let her hand drop. She pulled it back to her lap. When she finally raised her face he was gone.
The butler stepped in a short time later. “Lady Remington to see you, ma’am.”
“Send her in.”
Josie strode into the room, radiant. She stopped and scanned the area until she spied Beth in the shadows. “Beth.” She rushed forward and sat in the seat Phillip had vacated. “I longed to visit but Phillip told us you needed rest. Did you get my note and the flowers?”
“Yes. Thank you. They were lovely.”
“I’m so sorry for what you’re going through.”
Beth sighed. “I never even considered that something like this could happen. Especially after we survived the trauma when the Black Diamond’s men attacked me at Rose Hill.”
“That was a terrible time. I had hoped that once past that you’d not have to fear any problems with this child. Maybe our blessing most of the time is believing everything will be well.”
“And yet…” Beth swallowed, trying to hold back the tears.
“Did you know what the child was?” Josie whispered.
“A son. We lost a son.”
Josie sat in silence with Beth, her own tears falling as the fire crackled in the dim room.
Beth savored the quiet. Sometimes there were no words.
~*~
After Josie left, Beth went to her room to assist with packing for the trip to the country. She was soon resting.
Phillip returned home and oversaw some of the packing of his own belongings. He stopped to sit on the bed next to her. He held her hand and spoke not a word. After a few minutes, he bent to kiss her cheek and with a squeeze of the hand left her alone.
Always alone. Trapped inside a mind that swirled in danger and darkness. She did make it to the dinner table that evening and the meal with her husband was eaten in silence. When she finished she placed her serviette on the table. “I’ll leave you to your port.”
“You don’t need to. You could join me.” He motioned for another glass and poured some of the wine for her. He gave her a nod to try it.
Beth sipped the wine and closed her eyes to savor the flavor. This was not the watered-down stuff she’d only ever been offered. Warmth spread through her and her body relaxed. “I can see why you enjoy this.”
His grin held sadness. How was that possible? His eyes didn’t dance as they normally did. Fine lines were etched around them and on his forehead. He’d not had those a few months past when he’d first rescued her and took her as his bride. They were her fault. She reached over and ran a finger over his forehead. “What worries you, Phillip?”
His eyes flashed a momentary surprise. “You of course. Everything we’ve done has been to protect you. But I couldn’t keep you from—”
“—losing our child?”
He nodded and took another sip.
“Even had you been here, there was naught you could’ve done.”
“I should have been here regardless.”
“You were searching for Wolton?”
“Following leads to no avail.”
“I don’t blame you, Phillip. None of this was your fault.”
“It wasn’t yours either, Beth. Why can’t you forgive yourself?”
Her shoulders slumped and she sipped more wine. “I’m trapped in darkness. I cannot escape.”
“I long to have my wife back.”
“Maybe you lost her too.” She finished the wine and rose to leave.
“Beth?”
She stopped and waited.
“I never wanted a wife, but don’t mistake that for not wanting you. I do. Please don’t forget that. You are central to my life and happiness.”
She departed the room and took the stairs to their suite. She shooed Elsa away for the evening. She dressed for bed and brushed out her hair, leaving it long and loose, the way Phillip liked it. She blew out the candles, left the fireplace burning, and sat near the fire to wait.
She thought about her husband. Her heart hurt at failing him in losing the baby. But she’d also failed him in being so focused on herself she’d never considered all he was going through. He’d suspended his life to protect hers. He would have been at Stanton Hall for the longest time, content and working on his estate if he’d not been hunting Wolton and protecting her reputation.
She owed him more than her grief. She owed him her life. Her gratitude. She vowed she wouldn’t ignore him tonight.
~*~
Phillip finished his port and rose to go to his study. He had a few letters yet to write before they traveled the next two days to Stanton Hall. He poured some brandy and sipped it as he worked, the warmth an inadequate substitute for his wife’s affections, which had disappeared along with their baby. He sealed the last letter and sat by the fire, this time with the bottle. He poured another glass.
They’d lost a child. A son he never knew he longed for. It could have been a daughter, he’d still be heartbroken. He imagined a little girl with red hair like her mother’s dancing around Stanton Hall calling, “Daddy!” Or a son with his blond hair learning to pitch, or fish and someday, shoot.
The tears came. He’d lost more than a child. He’d lost his future. Dreams he didn’t realize he’d held. And it seemed he’d lost his wife’s love as well. The future loomed ahead as dark, even without the threat of Wolton hovering in the periphery. He sighed and sipped the drink and let it soothe the ache deep within. Lord, how did we get here to this place? Why? I don’t understand at all.
~*~
A scream of terror ripped through his dreamless slumber. He shook himself awake. He was still in his study, the empty brandy bottle on the table next to him. He swayed to his feet and followed the ruckus up the stairs.
Beth! He sprinted to her room and tried the door. It was locked. He ran to his suite, through to the adjoining door, and stumbled into pitch black. He paused. Her whimpers were coming from somewhere. He moved to the bed. Empty. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dark. He pulled a drapery open to let in the moonlight.
The fire had gone out. Where was his wife?
“Beth?” he moved with caution. If she was in the throes of a nightmare would she be violent? She’d been horribly abused in the dark. He found the other window and threw open the drapes to l
et in more moonlight. He lit a brace of candles and slowly made his way to the fireplace. He started a fire but it would take time before it would have a calming effect.
Silence greeted him. He scanned the furniture. She wasn’t there. Finally, he spotted her in the corner of the room where the shadows were greatest even with the fireplace and windows open. Curled up like a child, she wept. Her hair had been left down and hung as a curtain over her face. Had she waited up for him?
“Oh, Beth. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you waited for me.” He approached her slowly.
Elsa entered the room having found a master key. “Is my lady all right?” the maid asked.
“I believe she’ll be fine. You may leave. Tell everyone to return to their beds.”
The maid left, shutting the door firmly behind her.
“Beth? Sweetheart, I’m here.”
“Phillip?” The voice sounded lost and childlike.
“Yes. Come to me.” He held out a hand, giving her space. She reached for him and he helped her to her feet.
“It was dark.”
“It is not dark any more. I’m here. Come. You need to rest.” He led her to the bed and wrapped her in the blanket. She sighed and he placed a kiss on her forehead.
He strode back to the fire and stoked it until it was a healthy blaze. He placed more wood on it to keep it going until morning. He glanced at the bed. Had he failed her by not coming? It seemed he couldn’t do anything to help his wife. He strode to the adjoining bedroom and the bed he’d never used before. He collapsed on top of the covers, fully clothed, and fell asleep.
~*~
In the morning, his mouth was dry and his head ached. He dragged himself out of bed and called for Fenway. He peeked in on his wife who still slept. Finishing his own grooming and ensuring all was packed for the journey he finally went to rouse his wife.
“Beth? We must leave soon. You can sleep in the carriage if you like.”
She stretched and looked at him, her brow wrinkled. “Phillip?”
“Yes. ‘Tis I. We need to start our journey to Stanton Hall. Pray, get up and let Elsa prepare you for the trip. All is ready.”
She heaved a sigh and rose, glancing at the bed and the rest of the room. A chair was tipped over and the drapes remained open. “Did something happen last night?”
“You had a nightmare.”
“Oh. I’ll be down before you can finish breaking your fast.”
Phillip left her in Elsa’s capable hands and went down to eat. “Fenway. That special drink you make for hangovers, please. And have my horse saddled. I believe the fresh air will be more beneficial than being cooped up in a carriage all day.”
His valet bowed and left to get the drink.
Phillip ate some toast and drank coffee while reading through the morning paper. The drink was brought and he gulped it down. He closed his eyes and willed his stomach not to rebel. It was foolishness to have drunk as much as he had the previous night.
Beth appeared in the doorway as her trunk was carried out by the footmen. “I’m ready to depart.”
Phillip rose and shrugged on his greatcoat. “We can stop as many times as you deem necessary for your comfort.”
Beth nodded and preceded him out the door, waiting for him to hand her into the carriage. “You’ll not ride with me?”
“Perhaps later. I need the fresh air at the moment.”
“Are you unwell? You appear pale.”
“I appreciate your concern, ma’am. I shall be fine.” He shut the door while inwardly kicking himself for not being forthcoming with his bride. Mounting his horse, he led the procession out of town.
Miles passed and hours dragged on. Phillip’s headache only grew in power. At the first stop, he gave up riding his horse and joined Beth in the carriage, sitting facing forward and trying not to invade her space. She’d pushed him away and yet he longed to hold her. The memory of her kisses and soft curves tempted him. Her cool attitude reminded him of all he’d lost.
Reaching their destination for the night he procured two rooms and arranged for her meal to be brought to her. He ate in the pub by himself. When he finished, he made his way to his own room and the lonely bed there. Why did that bother him now? He’d been single for years. But he’d grown used to having Beth by his side at night. Her rejection stung.
The next morning, he was better and decided to spend the rest of the journey riding his horse.
Finally arriving at Stanton Hall, he dismounted and rushed to assist Beth from the carriage. Together they walked into the house and he escorted her to their suite.
The footmen brought in her boxes and Elsa was busy unpacking.
“It’s been a long day. I can have a meal brought to you tonight.”
“That would be lovely.”
“Remember, these are your rooms to redecorate as you wish.”
“I remember.”
He bowed and left her alone, going to his own room and ordering a bath and a meal.
When he finished, he crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling. He was back to where he began. Yes, his wife was in the house but he was as alone now as he’d been before he met her. Perhaps even more so because her very presence would remind him of all he’d won and lost since spring.
Sleep did not come easy.
“You shall die for taking what is mine,” the sinister voice growled.
His heart raced. He reached for his gun but couldn’t find it. The room was dark. He gasped for air, went to the window, and opened it to let in the cooler evening breeze. A nightmare. Was God warning him the battle wasn’t over? His bride might not care for him anymore but he still loved her and would do all in his power to keep her safe. Or die trying. Without her he had nothing else to live for. His future was secure in Christ. He didn’t need to fear death any longer. His enemies failed to understand that made him the more dangerous foe.
18
First Duke, then the baby. Didn’t trouble come in threes? She shouldn’t believe in the superstitious darkness that was her friend of old. They were at Stanton Hall. She was safe here.
The journey north had been lonely. Phillip stayed in a separate room each night on the road and had taken to sleeping in his own bed in their suite instead of joining her. She missed his touch. What happened to them? She’d longed to be close to him again but the words would never come. They’d sit for a meal and she’d suddenly be struck with shyness.
They developed a routine. He worked and spent time on the estate while she took walks in the garden, became better acquainted with running the household and began taking an inventory to ascertain just what she really needed to improve the interior of the Hall. She pulled things out of the attics and debated color schemes. She didn’t want to spend money if she didn’t need to. Phillip had given her free rein but she refused to take advantage of his generosity. The fact that he’d married her at all was more than she deserved.
She was not able to regain her figure. She imagined the baby was still moving within her. Elsa had been silent about needing to let the clothes out more. She had little appetite. Every twinge inside her, every flutter she experienced, magnified her loss. While she missed her husband at night, she was grateful he wasn’t able to witness her descent into madness. She debated cleaning out a space in the attic for her to stay when she’d truly gone insane.
~*~
“My parents have invited us to Manchester Manor for Christmas.” Phillip broke the silence at breakfast.
“I don’t want to leave Stanton Hall.”
“Are you unwell?” Phillip asked.
Beth shrugged. “I do not need a doctor but I do not want to travel either. If you desire to go, you should. I can remain here.”
“I would not leave you.” Phillip sipped his coffee and watched his wife move food around her plate. As if he didn’t notice she did not each much. She wasn’t withering away, however. Staff reported she spent her days redecorating the Hall, room by room. She’d yet to do her own or select a space
for herself on the main floor. She was either busy cleaning or resting. There was little in between from what he could tell.
She continually rejected any suggestion of bringing in the local physician.
“Beth, what happened between us? I love you. I won’t force myself upon you.”
She patted his hand. “You are a kind man.” She rose and left the room never answering the question.
Every day he proclaimed his love for her. He complimented her and commented on her progress with the house. She rarely said a word in return. He rose and went to write to his family declining the invitation. If they did go as they were now, there would be questions about the marriage he didn’t want to face. Did she regret marrying him? He’d thought they’d found something wonderful in spite of their difficult circumstances. Obviously, all the love was one-sided. Was he a fool? He didn’t think she’d manipulated him.
No. Losing the baby changed everything between them. But how did he bridge the gap?
He wrote the letter and called for his horse. “I have to go check out some of the outlying homes as the weather looks to get bad.”
“Cook has prepared items for you to give to the tenants in case they are in need.”
“Very good.” Phillip shrugged on his greatcoat and with the bags of food arranged over his horse he pulled himself on top and inspected the sky. The snow had already started to fall. He looked at his groom. “If I do not make it back tonight, assume I’ve sought shelter with one of the tenants.”
“Perhaps you should not go, my lord,” the young man said.
“No. It is my responsibility to see our tenants have what they need to survive. It’s too early in the season for enough snow to keep me away. I should be fine.” He nudged the horse into a trot and took off for the first home at the edge of the property.
Snow gave way to the rain making the ground slippery beneath his horse’s hooves. He was miles from home when he came to the last tenant, the Brown family.
“Oh, my lord. Come in and warm yourself.” Mrs. Brown took his coat and hat and motioned him to the fireplace. Their home was a two story that he’d seen received a new roof during the summer. Something he’d arranged before his fateful trip to London and finding a wife.
Lord Phillip's Folly Page 20