Chapter Twenty-Nine
Eight weeks after Jerome’s accident, the season was over, and summer was making life in the metropolis unbearable. Jerome was mobile, but unable to pursue many of his favorite activities with his arm still in a sling.
Over breakfast one morning, Ava said, “I was thinking we should go to The Castle. We can’t stay here. It’s dreadful and not good for you.”
“You go. It will do you good to have a break. You have been hovering about me for weeks. You must be heartily sick of it by now.”
He paused and pushed his half-eaten plate away. His appetite had never fully recovered after the accident, which worried her. He rubbed his face with his left hand. A gesture she had noticed was becoming more regular, as if he couldn’t resist touching the scar.
“No, I will not leave you here!” she protested.
“I’m perfectly able to care for myself with Leyton’s assistance now. There is no need for you to remain here—”
“No! I will not have you say you would rather have Leyton care for you than me!” She threw down her napkin and rose, coming around to his side of the table. “Please don’t push me away!”
He eased back from the table and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m a beast.”
“No, you are not!” she said, leaning in to kiss him.
He let her do it, but he didn’t respond, which alarmed her more than all the rest. He had kept her from his bed while he was healing on the grounds that he feared her presence would endanger his healing bones.
But his increasing distance from her terrified her. He seemed bent on pushing her away.
“Jerome, what is wrong?”
“Nothing! Everything!” he burst out, rising to his feet and heading for the door. “The truth is I cannot abide myself, if you must have it! This—this imposed idleness is killing me!”
And he left the room, shutting the door with a decided snap.
Ava plopped down in his vacated chair, sank her head in her hands and gave into the urge to cry that had been plaguing her for days.
Jerome had become increasingly impossible as his body healed.
His lowness of spirits and irritability were understandable, and she made allowances for it, but it was so hard when he behaved like this.
Like he hated her when all she was trying to do was love him and care for him.
She wiped her eyes and rose determinedly.
She would speak to the doctor. Surely Jerome must be healed enough to begin exercising a little soon?
She understood perfectly that urge to move—a good walk or ride was always the antidote she sought herself if her spirits were low.
And such an outlet was denied him. No wonder he was behaving like a bear with a sore head.
*
The accident and the scarring of his face on the back of the revelations about his parents had plunged Jerome into a bout of melancholy that he could not seem to shift.
He was aware that he was treating Ava abominably and couldn’t seem to stop.
Her care, her love, rubbed him raw at the same time it comforted him.
For he couldn’t shake the conviction that he was unworthy of her love.
And every time he looked in the mirror he was convinced he was right.
His inner ugliness that he had long sought to hide from the world was now writ large upon his face for all to see.
And surely Ava must see it too. Yet she had remained steadfast in her devotion and her love, and every gesture of care buried him in ever deeper layers of guilt.
But in the last few days, he had been granted the ability to begin resuming his physical routine.
The doctor had lifted his moratorium on exercise and was now encouraging him to resume some activity.
Getting his body moving again brought him significant relief and helped him to not only feel better, but to realize two things.
One was that he was being an absolute ass toward Ava and he owed her a massive apology.
And the second was that he was determined to go to Ravenshaw.
The matter he had written to Kelham about had produced no result as yet, and he knew he needed to go there himself and sort the matter out for once and for all.
Otherwise he feared being held hostage to these nightmares for the rest of his life.
He must lay the ghosts of his past to rest.
But firstly he needed to apologize to his wife.
With his arm now free of its sling, he felt reasonably whole again, and as long as he didn’t look in a mirror he could forget for a few minutes that his face was a pitiable ruin of his former handsome self.
It had been a shock to realize how much that mattered to him. But it did.
His instinct was to hide himself away, but such behavior was the act of a coward.
How could Ava be proud of a coward? For her sake, he dressed with his usual care, which he had eschewed for the last several weeks, and left the house to walk to Bond Street where he had several commissions he wished to execute.
*
Ava was out saying farewell to Annis and Emrys, who were packing up their brood and taking them to the seaside for the summer the following day, and did not return to the house until late afternoon.
Skelton greeted her with a grin, which she found a little odd.
He tended to be of somewhat sober disposition as a rule.
She trod upstairs to her room to change for dinner and opening the door stood transfixed at the sight within.
The room was full of flowers. The variegated colors and scents mingled in the air and quite overwhelmed her.
She entered the room slowly, noting each vase and wreath that had been used to decorate the room like a bower.
She turned to the bed and saw a long, slender red velvet box sitting on the pillow, atop a folded sheet of paper.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached for the slip of paper.
Pulling it from beneath the box, she unfolded it and read.
My dearest Ava,
I have behaved abominably toward you for the last several weeks, and I do not know how to make amends for my ill-mannered treatment of you.
You are a saint to have put up with my ill temper, when you have extended toward me nothing but love and care.
You have stood staunchly by my side through all the dramas that have unfolded and fought valiantly to uphold my honor.
You have shown, as always, your true colors of loyalty and kindness, of selfless love and affection.
And to my never-ending shame, I do not feel worthy of your love and loyalty, for I have demonstrated the ugliness of my soul in the way I have behaved in my surliness, my moodiness, and bad temper.
I have been in the grip of a melancholy humor that would not let me go.
But that is no excuse for my loathsomeness toward you. How you tolerate me I do not know.
I hardly dare to ask for your forgiveness for I do not deserve it.
I can only pledge to try to do better in the future and beg you not to give up on me. There are demons that plague me still, but I have resolved to conquer them. With you at my side I am confident of doing so. I confess, my darling, I do not know how I would go on without you.
Please know that I love you with all my heart and soul, and I would give my life to make you happy. I hate myself most deeply for causing you pain.
Jerome
Ava sat on the bed wiping tears off her cheeks as she read and reread the letter. What came through to her most strongly was his pain, and it made her heart ache to relive it. She sniffed and kissed the paper, whispering, “Oh, Jerome, my love!”
She heard a faint sound and turned to the door of his room where Jerome stood looking at her, and the ravaged expression on his face sent her across the room into his arms.
“Jerome!” she flung her arms around him.
“I’m so sorry, Ava,” he said, his arms pulling her tight against him and burying his face in her hair. “Can you forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive, love,” she said softly, her hand coming up to stroke his scarred cheek. He flinched under her touch and closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
They stood for several moments in silence, just hugging each other tight. And then he said, “I’ve decided to go to Ravenshaw. Do you want to come with me or go to The Castle?”
“I’ll come with you, of course. Why do you want to go?” she asked.
“I have to confront my ghosts. I’ve spent my life running away from things. It’s time I turned and faced them.” He cupped her face and kissed her. “With you I can do anything.”
She laughed. It came out a bit broken in the middle, for the emotions welling up didn’t know whether to become a laugh or a cry.
He glanced at the bed, “Did you look at your present?”
She shook her head. “I was more interested in the letter.”
“Have a look,” he said, guiding her gently towards the bed. She sat, reached for the box, and opened the lid. Nestled in white satin was a gold pendant of heart pierced by an arrow.
“That is what happened to me when I saw you descend the stairs at Lady Castlereagh’s ball.
You were wearing jonquil silk and looked like golden joy and sunlight to me.
I’ve loved you ever since, Ava. But it has taken me a long time to accept that someone so wonderful as you could love a man like me.
” He dropped to his knees by the bed and took her hands.
“I don’t deserve it and I don’t know how to be good enough for you, but please let me try? ”
“Jerome, stop!” she said through the tears falling on her cheeks.
“I’m no angel. Have you forgotten how often I have been in a scrape, and how willful and selfish I can be?
I am not a saint Jerome, far from it. I’ve just discovered that when you love someone and they need you, you rise the occasion, that’s all.
” She freed her hands to cup his face and kiss him.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m you wife, for better or worse, remember? ”
He nodded. “I remember.