Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Owen sighed. “I worked hard for months and got nowhere. And because of it, I missed the birth of my son.”
“Ah, here it is. You’re mad at yourself as well.”
“Perhaps I should not have stayed away so long.”
“Perhaps.” Morfudd frowned at him. “So you blame yourself, at least a little.”
“I thought I was doing what she wanted.”
“Maybe what she wanted changed.”
“But how was I to know that? How are we supposed to have a marriage if we don’t talk to each other?
If she wanted me here, she should have said something.
I cannot read her mind.” He shook his head.
“I missed her desperately when I was in London. I would have taken any excuse to come back to Wales, but I didn’t, because I thought my absence was what she wanted. ”
“Maybe that feels bad, too. You want to be with her, not apart from her.”
“Yes.”
“But now you are not with her because you are cross with her.”
“Well…yes.”
“You are married and you have a son, so it is in your best interest to figure out how to be together. You should have a frank conversation with her about what you both want. I don’t know if that will resolve the fact that you don’t completely trust her right now, but you could also give her the chance to prove she is trustworthy. ”
The letters had helped with that, but he was still unsure. “How do I do that?”
“Give it time. Speak with her in person and not via letter. Stay here in Wales until you have a better understanding of what is going on in your marriage.”
“For someone who is not currently married, you are wise.”
Morfudd preened. “I know. I am a keen observer of people. Look, Owen, your wife is lovely. She is friendly and kind and I adore her. I’ve been teaching her Welsh, you know.
I helped her pick out the boy’s name because she wanted to give him a hearty Welsh name.
She made a mistake, and I know it’s not a small thing and I know you need time to figure out how to forgive her, but do not carry a grudge forever.
She’s good for you and will make you happy if you can find understanding. ”
Morfudd was probably right. Divorce was not an option, nor was it what Owen wanted. What he wanted was Grace, and not to feel the way he currently felt about everything.
“How long do you intend to stay in Wales?” Morfudd asked.
“I do not know. I received a letter yesterday that Parliament has been sent off on recess officially, so there is nothing pressing for me in London right now.”
“Aside from the start of the Season.”
“That is not as important as fixing what I have here.”
Morfudd smiled. “Yes. That’s the spirit. You’ll be all right, my dear Owen. Talk to your wife. Do not make assumptions. See what she wants. Maybe you can yet find happiness in each other, if that’s what you both want.”
“Well. Thank you for talking this through with me.” He took a deep breath and broke off a piece of bread.
A block of Morfudd’s homemade salty butter sat there, and it was indulgent, but he spread a healthy amount on his piece of bread.
“Well, enough baring my soul. Update me on the castle now. How are improvements proceeding?”
Morfudd grinned and began regaling him with tales of the castle renovation.
*
Owen arrived back at the house in time to see the doctor leaving. He dismounted from his horse as a groom ran up to take Glyndwr back to the stables, so Owen met the doctor in the drive, in front of the house.
He knew Dr. Jones, because he’d seen to his father near the end of his life. He liked the man immensely and had always known him to be kind and knowledgeable.
“I am pleased to report, my lord, that the countess is healing well,” Dr. Jones reported. “She will be all but fully healed in another week or so, I believe.”
“Oh. That is good news. Everyone has been vague with me when discussing my lady’s…situation.”
Dr. Jones nodded. “Then I shall be candid with you. The baby was a big, healthy boy, which we like to see, but a baby that large can…how shall I put this?”
“I am an adult, Dr. Jones.”
“There was some tearing. She required stitches.”
Oh, God. “Is this why she bled so much?”
“Yes. It’s not unusual, I’m afraid. She lost a great deal of blood, and her recovery has been slow, although much better in the last few weeks. I imagine having you back home has been a help.”
Owen doubted that. He hadn’t been very warm toward her.
“But she is nearly healed now, you say?”
“If you are anxious to bed your wife, I would wait another week or two, but I am satisfied with her progress otherwise. She still tires easily and is at times overly emotional by her own admission, but that is all normal and she’ll be perfectly fine with a little more time.”
“It’s not that I’m anxious.”
Dr. Jones smiled. “It’s very common for husbands to ask. But trust your wife. She knows her body. She’ll tell you when she’s ready again.”
Well, then. Owen and Grace had done naught but sleep in their bed since he’d arrived back from London.
Owen hadn’t known what to do. He didn’t want to pursue physical relations when they felt so estranged, plus she seemed so exhausted all the time.
“She insists on taking care of the baby herself. I imagine that is a factor in her fatigue.”
“Is that why she has yet to hire a nurse?”
“She says she interviewed a few and found them wanting.”
Dr. Jones nodded. “If you are still looking for a nurse, I do have an excellent candidate in mind. The children she currently minds are old enough for school and she mentioned to me the other day that she is about to start looking for a new post. She is exceedingly patient and kind, like an aunt to many in the community. Too old to be a wet nurse, but that does not appear to be something the countess wants help with.”
“No, I do not believe so. It would please me to talk to your candidate.”
“Indeed. I’ll arrange something.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Dr. Jones shook Owen’s hand. “It is good to see you, my lord. Come to Wales more often.”
“Yes. I have been in London too long.”
Owen saw Dr. Jones to the end of the drive and then walked into the house.
“Where is the countess?” Owen asked as Driscoll helped him out of his coat.
“Her bedchamber, my lord.”
As Owen climbed the stairs, he reflected on the fact that Grace had been sad since he’d arrived home.
It was something he’d noticed but not really internalized.
On their honeymoon, she’d had an easy smile and seemed to be made partly of sunshine.
That light had dimmed, and Owen was likely the cause of it.
He wanted to trust her, but she’d been through a lot, too.
He found her lying on their bed, staring at the wall but not asleep. When she noticed him walk in, she sat up abruptly.
“Don’t get up on my account,” he said, walking into the room. “Are you tired?”
“A bit, but I’m all right. The doctor just left.”
“Yes, I ran into him outside.” Owen walked toward the bed. “We should probably talk.”
The expression on Grace’s face was earnest and heartbreaking. She looked exhausted and dispirited. He believed that her remorse was genuine. He’d never get to witness the birth of his son. But maybe he could forgive her for that if they could build a life together. If that was what she wanted.
He realized he already had forgiven her for her vase-making alter ego. She made beautiful things and wanted to sell them. There was no shame in that. He was in awe of her talent, in fact.
He sat beside her on the bed. Softly, he said, “I do not mean to further plague you. I merely want to explain myself. The reason I was so upset is that I want to be with you, Grace. I do. But I want to be able to trust you, too.”
She settled into a sitting position on the bed. “I understand.”
He wasn’t sure she did. “I read your letters.”
“Did you?”
“I admit, I am as frustrated with you as I am with myself. We both made mistakes. I spent time in London and got nowhere with my Parliament work, and I feel foolish for being so idealistic, for failing, when I could have been here with you and avoided the whole ordeal. I should have been here with you.”
“I understand why—”
“We both made mistakes—that is what I am trying to say. Perhaps we should be fair about that.”
“All right.” Grace looked confused.
“Let me ask you something.” He paused to think about how to phrase it. “When I was in London, I missed you, and I came back here thinking, as long as you were okay, I would propose having a real marriage and not just an arrangement. But only if that’s what you wanted.”
Grace’s face crumbled. She pressed her face into her hands. “I’m sorry. I cry so much lately.”
“It’s all right.”
“No. You…you came here and I shocked you. And I don’t know what I thought I wanted anymore, because all I know now is that there’s distance between us, and even though you have every right to be angry with me, I hate that distance.”
He wanted to take her into his arms, but he stayed in place. He wanted to be sure they understood each other before they went any further.
The truth was, he missed her. He was upset, yes, but he could find a way to forgive her if there was some promise of a future together. They’d either stay married and lead separate lives, or they’d find a way to be together.
“It’s been hard for me,” Owen said. “I felt betrayed. I felt like I misunderstood the entire nature of our relationship. And I know you regret what happened. You don’t need to apologize again.
And I know I’ve been hard on you since I came home.
I had to figure out what I wanted and what I needed, and I had to adjust to this new…
situation. I apologize for putting distance between us.
I felt I needed to in order to… understand what is happening now.
None of this is what I expected when I came home. ”