Chapter Eight
Cecil breathed in the cold air, took it deep into his lungs, expelled it, and then did it all over again.
This morning, the sun was shining. Though there was still a thin blanket of snow covering most of the grasses and fields, the lung-freezing cold had lifted a bit, and he could breathe easier as he embarked on his daily constitutional to clear his head and give him time to think about what he needed to do in order to keep his wife.
At least for the next week or so.
“If you look closely, Your Grace, there are signs of spring peeking through. That has to mean only good things, yes?”
The voice of his valet, Childs, wrenched Cecil from his thoughts.
The man had arrived at the manor house the day before during the time when Cecil had been otherwise engaged with his wife in the portrait gallery.
He glanced in the direction his valet pointed, and sure enough, some early spring flowers were beginning to push through the patches of snow.
Snowdrops and hellebores didn’t seem to mind the frost or snow, and they always heralded early spring.
“It would be lovely if that is true.”
Childs nodded. The black curls beneath the brim of his hat danced in the slight breeze.
“Look there. A few crocuses. I can make out the purple of their petals. Still tightly wrapped, but the bloom is not far off.” A hint of happiness wove through his tone.
“I wouldn’t be surprised, if this stretch of good weather continues, to spy early daffodils or even primroses. ”
“Where has this sudden love of botany come from, Childs?”
“I’m merely pointing out that the darkness and bleakness of winter doesn’t last forever, Your Grace. I’d like to hope you can see that for yourself and your own troubles.” The valet cast him a grin. “It’s also a good sign Her Grace hasn’t run off.”
Cecil bristled. His muscles went taut, for he didn’t enjoy having his wife as the center of a conversation. “Did you expect her to?” He certainly had.
“Honestly?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I could use more truth in my life.”
“Well, when I’d heard you absconded from London by kidnapping your own wife after doing dastardly things to her, I was quite skeptical as to how that would end.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if the duchess threw half a dozen things at your head and then set out on her own.
” He stumbled over a clump of hardened snow, righting himself as Cecil snickered.
“And now?” He poked the end of his cane into another clump of snow then sprang back a couple of steps when a white rabbit darted around them from the snow.
“Now, I think the two of you have a chance to reconcile… that is if you can keep from being a prick or hiding from her,” Childs was quick to add with a grin.
“There are reasons—”
“As if you think I don’t know that?” The valet shook his head as they walked onward, their breath clouding around their heads. For the space of a few heartbeats, silence reigned between them, then he asked, “You had nightmares last night, didn’t you?”
How the man always managed to know continued to boggle his mind.
Granted, he’d met Victor Childs while on the Iberian Peninsula.
His regiment had left him behind when he’d suffered what they assumed to be a fatal stab wound to his side, but when Cecil had come upon him, he noted much of the blood on the man’s uniform had come from an unknown opponent instead of the man himself.
Upon further inspection, he’d confirmed that the wound Childs had truly received wasn’t that terrible at all, and with a bit of attention he would recover without incident.
So he’d taken the man back with him to his own regiment, and they’d been fast friends ever since.
“I did. Kept me up half the night, and at one point, I thought the curtains around my bed were the spirits of the men I’d killed in battle.
” God, that had been the most acute and terrifying hour he’d ever passed.
Eventually, he’d come out of the nightmare realizing where he was, and thankfully, only the curtains and a silver candlestick had suffered from his temporary break from reality.
“I fear one of these days, I won’t be able to come out of one of those sessions. ”
“But you did last night. Which means you’re not lost yet.”
There were times when Childs’ positive outlook grated on his nerves, but today wasn’t one of those days. Today, he craved that reassurance, that hope, for he didn’t wish to be lost.
Cecil heaved out a sigh. “What should I do?”’
“About the nightmares?” The valet shrugged. “There’s not really anything you can do except fortify your mind so that when they come upon you, you can reason your way out.”
“No, I meant about my wife. The nightmares will either come or they won’t, and I have dealt with them enough to know that if one of them is bad, I’ll lock myself away until it passes.
” Except, if it didn’t one time, if he encountered someone else while locked in those terrible dreams, he might harm someone, and he would rather die than put Emma in danger because of himself.
Exerting his will during carnal activities was one thing; putting her in mortal jeopardy from the fractures of his mind was quite another.
“That depends.”
“On?”
Childs shrugged. “Do you still care for her after all the time apart?” When he didn’t immediately answer, the valet continued. “Of course, if you cared for her in the beginning, you might not have left her, hmm?”
“That’s not true. It was because I did care that I had to leave.
Don’t you understand?” Because clearly Emma didn’t each time he’d tried to explain.
Granted, he’d mucked it up both times, but the effort had been there.
“I know what kind of man I am now after the war. I know what it did to my mind.” Slowly, he shook his head.
“I don’t want to hurt her while lost in a fog not of my own making. ”
“I do understand, and I have intimate knowledge of what you fight with, for I have my own from time to time.” The other man paused, clearly thinking over his next words carefully.
“However, I also know you are a strong man, in mind, body, and spirit. Because you don’t wish to harm you, I know you will stop yourself if anything of the sort would truly happen. ”
“There is no guarantee of that.”
“Perhaps not; it is more of a feeling, I suppose.” Childs shrugged.
“Consider this. When you came home from war and then married her a handful of weeks later, I wasn’t surprised, for with each letter you’d received from her, each one you wrote her back, you gained strength and confidence.
Hell, I’ll wager you were in love with her the night you met her at that ball. ”
Heat crept up the back of Cecil’s neck. “It was a flash, a niggle, but I knew I’d eventually marry her. I didn’t fall until later, until the letters started.”
To that end, where were those missives? Perhaps in them there was a clue as to what he should do with her now.
“And do you still feel the same way about Her Grace? If she were no longer a part of your life for any reason, how would that affect you?”
He took a few moments before answering, for this might serve as a barometer for the coming days.
“Oddly, I have always taken comfort in knowing that she had my name, was my duchess, and when I knew that I held her heart, I considered myself the most fortunate nodcock in England.” The day she’d told him that she loved him was forever locked in his memories.
Why had he not pulled that one out when he was in a bad way?
He swallowed around a lump of emotion in his throat.
“I would be completely lost without her.”
“Yet you left her like a coward. You enacted a retreat without all the facts.”
One thing he appreciated about Childs was the fact he didn’t wrap his words in wool, so to speak, to spare him from the sting.
He shot straight and went through the fallout as it came.
“Perhaps I did. Two months into the union, the nightmares became intense, and I was terrified enough that I didn’t want her hurt.
So I left. I thought if I could keep her safe all would be well. ”
“Except you forgot that in doing this, you wouldn’t be with her, and I’ll wager having her close is a large part of what helps to keep you calm, of what helps to make you believe you are safe as well.” The valet turned his head to regard him. “True?”
“It is. And at that point, I’d been gone far too long to simply return to London and ask for her forgiveness.” It had been a tactical error for certain.
“You decided to make the situation worse by enacting an aggressive campaign and taking her hostage.” A snicker escaped his friend. “How is that working for you?”
“We have declared a truce of sorts, I think.” In fact, talking with Emma relieved some of the pressure he’d carried.
The weight across his shoulders didn’t seem as heavy whenever he was in her company.
Odd, that. Could he find a way to be with her and keep her safe from him at the same time? Was it even possible?
“What you need to do is talk candidly with her. You didn’t truly have a chance to do that before you married. Letters are one thing, but face to face communication is quite another.”
A snort of amusement left Cecil’s throat. “We have communicated a few times since arriving at Thornton Hall.” God, why did he admit that?
“Get your head out of your arse, Your Grace.” Childs shook his head with a chuckle. “Bedding your wife wherever you damn well feel like it is not the same thing as talking to her. Even you should know that.”
He couldn’t help what felt like a rather cheeky grin. “I do.” Then his grin faded. “Unfortunately, I’m not good with words spoken aloud. I’m a decent touch writing them, but when actually in her company and needing to tell her the things she needs to hear? I’m a bit rubbish.”