The children dashed about, wild in their unexpected independence, laughing and calling to each other. Beth and Malcolm strolled along behind them, with Malcolm calling out warnings and lighthearted scolding to the children. The girls began picking flowers for her, bringing them up and practically shoving them into her hands, telling her what color they were and where they had come from. The boys opted to race each other over and over, Archer only letting Samuel win twice.
By the time Beth had more flowers than she could easily carry, they had circled back to the house, and a few games broke out between her husband and the children. She had no idea what they were, but the laughter and screams had been enjoyable to hear.
The luncheon picnic baskets were brought out for them, and Malcolm called the children over. He spread out blankets and settled Beth on one while he unpacked the picnic. There had been much laughter and teasing from the children as they had begun to eat, and Beth smiled at the sounds.
Malcolm settled himself next to her, letting her lean on him as he handed her a plate of small items, discreetly telling her where everything was.
It was a grand thing to be able to eat without assistance, and that thought was odd to her. How peculiar things were for her now! The joy of navigating her way through her husband’s rooms without assistance, of walking along the hall unescorted, of being able to know who was coming without hearing a voice… It was not ideal, of course, but those little victories meant the world.
Malcolm never made her feel as though she was anything less for her inability to see. He was always at hand if she needed him and gave her space for her independence when she asked for it. His attention to detail was nearly perfect, allowing her to picture everything with surprising clarity. He was doting without being overwhelming, helpful without being annoying, and praised every success without sounding patronizing.
And at night, he loved her with both tenderness and passion that left her breathless and hopeful.
Her heart had been his long ago, but she feared her soul was now his, as well.
Hope was a dangerous thing, as she knew full well. Try as she might, she could not stop herself from hoping that he would love her with the same single-mindedness with which she loved him. No more than she could stop herself from hoping she would see again. Her entire life seemed to be about waiting. Waiting for him to love her. Waiting for her vision to return. And yet, she could not wait anymore. She had to live her life as it was without focusing on something far distant, or something that might never be.
Things, as they were now, were not wholly bad, after all. She might not be able to see, but she had a husband she adored, a marriage overflowing with affection, if not love, and children who brightened every day. She did not want for joy or for blessings, that was for certain.
“You are quiet,” Malcolm told her with a gentle nudge. “Are you all right?”
Beth turned to where she thought he was and smiled. “Yes. Perfectly so. I was only thinking how fortunate I am.”
Malcolm made a sound of amusement and kissed the corner of her mouth.
“You missed,” she teased, wrinkling up her nose.
“You had a bit of sauce,” he said, a smile in his voice. “I thought you might taste better with it.”
Beth coughed a surprised laugh. “And did I?”
Malcolm kissed her full on the lips, then hummed a little in thought. “It was delectable, to be sure, but I believe I prefer you just as you are.”
Oh, to be able to see his face when he said such things!
Her face flushed, and she shook her head, unable to keep from smiling. “There you go, making me blush again.”
“One of my very favorite things to do.”
Yes, so he was always saying. And him saying so only made her blush more, which seemed to make him laugh more. It was such a tormenting cycle that the only way out of it was to kiss him into silence. That was not an option here, so she could only hope for a distraction.
“Bitsy!” Jane called from the other side of the blankets. “Can we play becoming fairies? We haven’t done that in ages!”
There was a very dramatic ring to her voice, and Beth chuckled. “Yes, darling, only don’t stain your frock on the grass.”
“We can take a blanket!” Jane cried cheerfully. She began urging her brothers off, and apparently, they obeyed.
Beth got to her feet, handing her plate to Malcolm.
“Shall I come with you?” he asked.
She shook her head at once. “Absolutely not. You would not be well suited to fairy life. Greer can walk me, can’t you, Greer?”
“Yes!” Greer shouted, taking her hand.
Malcolm chuckled and kissed Beth’s cheek. “All right. Don’t be gone too long. I’ll miss you.”
Her heart danced a merry jig at his words as her youngest stepdaughter led her a short distance away, and she lay on the blanket laughing as the girls spread wildflowers around her, then around each other.
They lay in the sun for several minutes, and Beth could hear the slow, deep breathing of the girls, wondering if they had fallen asleep now that they were full and warm in the sun. She imagined Jane’s brown hair strewn around her head like a chocolate halo, while Greer’s almost copper curls would be more of a mess of tangles. Both would be absolutely adorable, precious beyond expression, and worthy of an artist’s creative touch, could they manage to capture their essence. But she didn’t know if that’s how they looked, or whether they slept.
“Girls!” Malcolm suddenly called. “If you’ve finished your fairy transformation, your brothers want to play a game!”
The girls were up in a flash of squeals, and Jane, remembering Beth’s condition, came to take her hand and walked her very carefully back. It made Beth smile, as she knew that the child would much rather run back to the house, but she would allow Jane to help in the way she deemed necessary.
“Very good, Jane,” Malcolm praised as he looped Beth’s hand through his arm. “That was very well done indeed.”
“Mrs. Rawlins said we had to be careful,” Jane chirped, bouncing next to Beth. “She had all of us practice with her. Archer was best, but I was the most careful. I was careful, wasn’t I, Bitsy?”
She laughed and felt for her cheek. “Yes, darling. Now, go off with your brothers and sister, you must start your game!”
Malcolm kissed her cheek and started walking with her. “I need to get you settled, love, as I am playing the game, as well.”
“Very well,” she replied, smiling further. “You need to play with the children.”
“I agree. We’ll be playing blind man’s bluff, I hope you don’t take offense.”
He actually sounded hesitant, and Beth laughed. “Of course not! It is a marvelous game, and I am quite jealous. How fun!”
Malcolm chuckled and settled her onto a divan on the lawn. “I wish you could watch us, love,” he whispered with a kiss to her cheek.
Beth smiled and turned to kiss him properly. “I know. It’s all right. Go play with the children.”
He kissed the top of her head and then dashed over to them.
For a few moments, Beth sat there, imagining what was happening and leaning her head back in the warm sunlight. There were screams and laughs, calling out for Archer, who must have been in the center.
“Oh, he was so close to Monty that time,” Lily’s voice said suddenly from her left.
Beth jerked a little. “Lily! What are you doing here?”
“I just came by for a chat, and now I think I’ll tell you what is happening in the game.” She squeezed Beth’s hand and then sat beside her.
Beth grinned and sat back to listen closely. Lily had been by as often as she could, and Beth would never be able to tell her just what that had meant to her.
“Monty is now the blind man,” Lily reported, a smile in her tone. “He’s got a dark cravat around his eyes, and the children are all behind him at the moment. Oh! He just whirled and caught Samuel, you can hear him squeal.”
<
br /> Beth could indeed, and she found herself laughing along with everyone else.
“Samuel has the cravat on now,” Lily went on. “Oh, you should see it, they’re all being intentionally slower. Except for Greer, she’s trotting along in her usual way…”
Lily went on, describing the game for a while, also telling Beth what everyone wore and how they looked, as Beth didn’t know any of those details. It was an entertaining combination; the more she could picture, the more real the scenario.
“And now, I think, we should let Bitsy have a turn,” Malcolm called from where they were playing.
The children cheered, and Beth went wide-eyed on her divan. “I beg your pardon?” she squawked.
Malcolm was suddenly there, taking her hand and gently pulling her up, “Come on, sweetheart. It will be simple for you. Why shouldn’t you participate?”
Beth laughed breathlessly and squeezed his hand. “I didn’t think… I didn’t…”
“Nor did I,” he assured her. “But why shouldn’t you? You might not be able to run from anyone else, but you can play this part perfectly.”
“Bitsy! Bitsy!” all the children cheered, dancing around her.
“And for the sake of fairness…” Malcolm drawled, placing the cravat around her eyes.
Beth frowned. “Really, Malcolm?”
“We must be fair,” he said close to her ear, making her shiver.
She chuckled and let him spin her once, and then she raced around trying to catch any of the children or her husband. Malcolm was right, it felt almost the same as it had when she had played this game in the past. She did not feel any sort of disadvantage for once, and she laughed merrily as she ran.
“Over here, Bitsy!” Archer called from her left, laughing.
She veered in that direction, and within moments, she had him in her grasp, to the jubilation of all, even Archer, who turned to hug her.
Malcolm, still laughing, came to her, his fingers working at the knot of the cravat. “Well done, Beth. How do you feel?”
“Alive,” she sighed, grinning.
The cravat came off and Beth nearly gasped. The darkness was… different. It wasn’t nearly so dark as it had been with the cravat, and it had that almost red shade that she recalled from closing her eyes in the sun before her accident. Everything had been the same sort of dark from the first day of her accident, and she’d never noticed a change.
But now…
Was this the start of an improvement? Or was this a new effect of sunlight?
“Are you all right?” Malcolm asked, sounding only mildly concerned.
She managed a smile, hoping it was convincing. “Yes, of course. I’ve never been better.”
He rubbed her back gently and kissed her hair.
Beth kept the smile on her face as she returned to the divan, but her heart pounded furiously within her. She couldn’t tell him. If her eyesight was changing, she needed to be sure. If it wasn’t, there was no cause for concern.
But if it was…
She couldn’t think about that. She would go on as she had been, as if nothing was different, and she was adjusting to life without sight.
She had to.
Chapter Nineteen
Beth could barely breathe, and it had nothing to do with the snug fit of her corset and gown, though it did complicate matters.
A ball. Her husband was taking her to a ball.
Her. The blind Countess of Montgomery. The one that haunted the halls of Knightsgate. Not that anyone was calling her that to her knowledge, but they certainly could have done.
She gripped her hands together tightly, ignoring the way they slipped from the smooth gloves she wore. This was madness. Absolute and impossible madness.
She’d even argued with Malcolm about it and had insisted that she could not go.
There had been no hiding the amusement in his voice when he’d replied, “Why not?”
Beth had sputtered, waving her hand in front of her eyes dramatically. “Why not? Malcolm!”
He’d had the audacity to chuckle. “Yes?”
Her eyes had narrowed, and she planted both fists on her narrow hips, her cheeks flushing with indignation. “I suppose you find this amusing. I have to ask because I cannot see.”
“I do, actually,” he had replied easily. “I find it quite amusing that my intelligent, beautiful, remarkably capable wife thinks she cannot go anywhere because of the slight difficulty her blindness presents.”
Then he had kissed her into submission and asked her to trust him.
Trust him…
She was more vulnerable than she had ever been in her entire life, but somehow, trusting him was the one thing she could do. Still, it was madness.
To say nothing of the fact that she had yet to tell her husband that there had been some improvements in her vision since that day they played on the lawn. She was getting better, she could not deny that now. Everything was still very dark, but she could tell the difference between light and dark and vague shapes were beginning to form. Every day was a little better, and she fully expected that colors would make themselves known before too long.
But Malcolm didn’t know.
It wouldn’t make any difference tonight. She still could not navigate any better than she had done before, so dancing would be impossible.
But in the morning, or the next day, or the next… It would make a difference.
She hadn’t told him anything. Hadn’t let on that she was beginning to actually see when someone walked in front of her, know when the fire was getting low, or used a candle to help her navigate better after the sun had set. He didn’t know that shapes were beginning to make themselves known to her, and he definitely did not know that she no longer truly needed his arm if the light was decent. She hadn’t let on any of that.
She couldn’t.
Malcolm had been so kind and considerate with her these last few weeks. Any walls that had once been between them had completely vanished, and it was her lack of sight that had brought that about. If she didn’t need him in the same way, would he treat her the same? Would he remain by her side and touch her with such tenderness and yearning? Would he leave her again?
She knew that he was fond of her, that he liked her, and certainly that he desired her, but she wanted more than all of that. She wanted him to love her. As much as she wished to see again, she would have given it all up if her husband would only love her as she loved him.
How pathetic did that make her?
Even now, riding in the carriage beside him, she was a bundle of nerves, fearing that her secret would come tumbling out in her agitation over the evening at hand. What if she made a fool of herself? What if this was a terrible idea, and all her hard work practicing had been for naught?
Malcolm suddenly took her hand and squeezed softly. “Don’t be nervous,” he murmured. “I’ve arranged everything.”
Beth smiled to herself. Malcolm would have arranged something; he was always arranging things. Their marriage, his trips to London, the children’s care, how Beth spent her days… Malcolm was a man of control and order, which made his marriage choice all the more astonishing. But he did it well, so Beth was content to let him.
“You aren’t going to show me off, are you, Malcolm?” she asked, trying for a teasing tone. “It would not be an appropriate time to do so.”
“It would always be an appropriate time to show you off, my dear,” he scolded at once, his hold tightening. “But no, in this instance I am not.”
She exhaled slowly, nodding to herself.
The carriage slowed, and Beth instinctively turned for the window, though it was too dark for her to make out the house. She could, however, barely see the candles alight in the windows. It seemed to be a great many, and she struggled in vain to remember what the house looked like. She’d only called on Mrs. Harris once, and the lack of sight at present seemed to affect her memory of sights previously seen.
At that exact moment, Malcolm leaned forwa
rd and whispered details of the house to her, and piece by piece, each stone fell into place in her mind until her limited sight was no hindrance at all. Her heart swelled with gratitude and love for the man beside her, knowing it was a simple thing he had done, and yet, it had meant the world to her. Whatever grand gesture might lie in wait for her here, it could hardly mean more to her than this.
Malcolm stepped out of the carriage and helped her down, then led her up the stairs, murmuring soft words of praise as she managed them without incident or hesitation. There were no other carriages that she could hear, and no other voices as they entered the house.
“Are you sure there is a ball here?” Beth muttered to her husband.
He chuckled, shushing her. “Yes, love. We are arriving fashionably late, and you will hear the music by and by.”
“Lord Montgomery! Lady Montgomery, what a pleasure to see you!”
Beth perked up at the warm tones of Mrs. Harris and smiled with real delight. “Mrs. Harris, thank you so much for your invitation. I hope it didn’t give you pause when my husband accepted.”
“Not at all, my dear,” she replied, taking Beth’s hand. “I was thrilled by it.”
“And even more by the promise of your late arrival,” added the deeper tones of her husband’s voice. “There is nothing my wife loves so much as an excuse not to dance.”
Beth couldn’t quite make his shape out, but there was a shadow to the right of where his wife stood. The light must have been bright in here indeed, for she could almost catch the shimmer of Mrs. Harris’ silk in the candlelight.
“I will not allow Mrs. Harris to be kept from the dance for long,” Malcolm said warmly. “If I might have the next with her?”
“The next?” Mrs. Harris laughed. “Should you not dance with your wife first, my lord?”
Beth forced a smile, slightly embarrassed. “I am not dancing tonight, I’m afraid. Unless you wish to create a scene, of course, and then I am at your service.”
A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3) Page 23