Heart of the Beholder

17

THE EVENTS FROM THE NIGHT before replayed in Bridgette’s mind as she walked to the Thornwood Estate.

After Bridgette had left Charles standing in the middle of the road, she’d made sure her mom was comfortable and Birdie had everything she needed. As she had lain on the couch and waited for sleep to find her, Bridgette decided not to pay any heed to what others had to say about Lord Thornwood. They could say whatever they wanted, but she knew the truth. Other than Edgar, the only other person who was qualified to assess Lord Thornwood’s character was Bridgette. She was the one who sat at his chess table every day, not them.

The walk home in the dark was proof enough that Lord Thornwood was not a monster but a kind and caring gentleman. He had taken it upon himself to help her, even when he had every valid excuse not to. He had gotten upset because he couldn’t easily give her his cloak. He did hide his face, but Bridgette was sure there was a good reason for it, and maybe one day he would trust her enough to tell her why. She hoped he would.

Bridgette was welcomed by the sight of the meadow and its calming brook. It was so different in the light. The night before felt like a different world. A very dark and terrifying world. Thank goodness she hadn’t had to face it alone.

Water misted Bridgette as she set the bucket under the waterwheel to catch the water and send it down the pipes to the gardens. She followed the water as it made its way through the irrigation system. She closed the gate behind her and hurried to check the flower beds first. Everything looked healthy. She walked around to the rosebush and was excited to see new stems, and even a few buds forming. “Look at you,” she exclaimed. “All you needed was a little love. Hold on, I will be right back with some water.”

She hurried to the cabinet with the gardening tools, but was distracted by woven sacks which had been placed by her vegetable garden bed. She opened them and gasped at the contents. The first sack was full of smaller pouches, all labeled with the names of the seeds they held. She giggled when she saw raspberries, and did a little happy dance for the carrots and tomatoes. There were also strawberries, blackberries, peas, squash, cucumbers, and potatoes. The other sack had flower bulbs and other plants to put in the flower garden. How could she decide which one to plant first? She might have to beg Edgar to let her plant before her other duties.

Someone cleared their throat, and Bridgette looked up.

“Oh, Edgar!” she exclaimed as she scrambled to her feet. “You brought back so many things! I can’t wait to plant…” Bridgette’s words dissolved on her tongue when she saw the look on Edgar’s face. “What is it?”

“Miss Bridgette, would you mind coming inside? I need to talk to you about something,” he said with no smile or twinkle in his eye.

Bridgette swallowed, then nodded. She followed the butler to the kitchen. A large coin bag sat on the table. Bridgette couldn’t help but feel like a child who had gotten caught doing something they shouldn’t.

“Edgar?” she asked quietly.

He sighed. “The Master asked me to give you this,” he said, gesturing toward the bag, “and release you from your position.”

“Release me?” Bridgette asked in shock. “Is this because he had to walk me home? Or did he hear what Charles said?”

Edgar held up a hand to stop her questions. “I don’t completely understand what is going through Lord Thornwood’s mind, but when I arrived back last night, he was in a bad state.”

Bridgette’s eyes grew wide. “Is he hurt? What happened?”

“I am still trying to answer those questions myself,” Edgar said. He slid the coin bag over to her. “He asked me to give this to you and to tell you that you are released.”

There had to be enough coins in the bag to help her hire a specialist for her mother and more. Bridgette just pushed it back. “I don’t want it. I want this position. I am not leaving.”

A small smile flickered on Edgar’s lips. “I was hoping you would say that. I promised him I would tell you what he said, but not that I would enforce it. I wanted to give you the chance to take the money if it is what you wanted.”

Bridgette nodded thoughtfully. “I would like to speak with him.”

“He may have told me to not let you upstairs,” he said with a furrowed brow. “But my memory isn’t as good as it once was…” he trailed off, as he made his way over to the stove.

She smiled and walked to the dining room door. “He will be in his bedchamber,” Edgar said before she pushed through. She looked back at him. “I would suggest you take a peek into the forbidden room before you knock. That way, you can get an idea of what you will be facing. I left the door open.”

Bridgette nodded her thanks and left the kitchen. Something had happened from the time she left him in the forest to when Edgar found him. Was it something she’d said or done? Was she completely out of her mind to have thought they were getting along well? Something could have attacked him on his way back to the manor. Whatever it was, she would make it better, just like Sir Raspberry. This was a small setback, but it could be fixed.

She ascended the stairs and quietly moved down the hall toward the open door, picturing the room the last time she saw it, cluttered with the painted canvases and art supplies. Her stomach dropped when she peeked around the door frame. The table was flipped on its head, and broken glass littered the floor. Red and black paint pooled like blood. The canvases had large holes torn through them, and the curtains hung in tattered strips. She heard something and realized the door leading to the bedroom was broken, hanging crookedly from one hinge.

Bridgette panicked and fled from the room. Her heart pounded so hard, it made her chest hurt. Her mind was so overwhelmed with ideas of what could have caused such a disaster, she didn’t think twice before letting herself into the study. The room was blessedly unoccupied and untouched. Bridgette let her shoulders relax at the sight of the hand-carved chess set sitting undisturbed on the small table. It was only the paint room then. She found herself knocking on the bedroom door before she knew what she was going to say.

“Enter,” said a low voice.

“Um, it's me,” she said through the door.

“I told Edgar not to let you up here,” he growled angrily.

Bridgette flinched, but kept her ground. “Why?”

“Because you don’t belong here.”

She took a shaky breath and blinked her tears away. “So it was me. I shouldn’t have put you in the situation where you had to walk me home. I—”

“No,” he interrupted aggressively, causing Bridgette to nearly jump out of her skin, as he sounded a lot closer than before. “It was nothing you did.”

“Then why send me away?” Her voice cracked with the question. She felt vulnerable and selfish at the same time.

Several moments passed before he said, “Because you are too good for this place.”

Bridgette placed a hand gently on the door. “I don’t understand.”

“Your kindness is like a light,” he said. “In this prison of darkness, it has been very welcome, but I fear there is too much darkness. It will devour your light if you stay any longer.”

Bridgette’s chest lightened, but still ached with a different kind of pain. “I have not seen this darkness you speak of.”

“It is because I hid it from you,” he said hesitantly.

“Why?” she asked softly.

“I did not want you to know who I really am.”

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“A monster,” he grumbled.

“No,” she pleaded. “Don’t believe what people say. They don’t know you.”

“But it is true.”

“No, it is not. I know you better than any of them, and you are not a monster,” she said, with conviction, through the door.

“That is because you do not know me at all. You do not know the things I have done, the people I have hurt, the choices I can never take back.” His voice cracked on the last word.

Bridgette sat on the ground with her back against the door. “Then tell me, and I will tell you if you are a monster or not.”

“I am not telling you,” he said.

“Well, I am not leaving until you do, so you have no choice,” she said. Bridgette folded her arms over her chest and tilted her chin up, even though he couldn’t see her. “I am making myself comfortable here on the floor, so you better start thinking about what you are going to say.”

“I could ring for Edgar,” he threatened, but Bridgette had a feeling he wasn’t serious.

She smiled. “Then Edgar and I will team up on you.”

“Is there nothing else I can do to convince you to leave?”

“Nope. Not a bag of gold or my stern grandmother fresh out of the grave. You would have to carry me kicking and screaming from the manor yourself if you want me to leave,” Bridgette said.

Silence stretched for several moments.

“You are very stubborn,” he stated.

“Thank you.”

“And odd,” he added.

“Thank you,” she said again with a grin.

A rustling noise came from the other side of the door, followed by a creak, as though Lord Thornwood were leaning back against it as well.

“I don’t know what you want to hear exactly,” he said. The vibrations of his voice tickled Bridgette’s back through the door. He sighed. “Think of the worst cad or scoundrel you have ever known. That was me. Still is me. If they have done it, I have done it as well.”

Bridgette shifted as she thought about what he meant. She thought of Jack and his obnoxious behavior. “So you have been dishonest?”

“There was a time when the only things that came out of my mouth were lies,” he said.

“You have cheated someone out of money?”

“Probably in the worst way. I held a position of authority. People trusted me. I asked for more than I needed. I know I asked for more than what most had, yet they still gave it all.” He sounded angry, but Bridgette recognized great pain and remorse in his voice. “I left them with nothing.”

“You have been rude to innocent people?” Bridgette continued.

“Too many times to count,” he answered sharply.

She rested her head back against the door. “Have you killed someone?”

“I have not killed someone with my own hands, but I would not be surprised if someone died from the poor choices I made or the selfish risks I took,” he huffed.

Bridgette pulled her knees to her chest and picked at a loose string on her skirt. “Have you ever hit a woman?”

Her heart rampaged in her chest as she waited for his answer. He was silent for a long moment. She held her breath as time stretched.

“I have never hit a woman,” he said. Bridgette let out her breath, and her chest ached with relief. “But,” he continued, and she tensed. “One time, I was on a horse, and a woman grabbed my boot, begging for help. I kicked her off me and onto the ground.” A moment passed in silence. “I couldn’t sleep that night because I couldn’t get the sight of her falling to the ground out of my head. I tried to never put myself in a situation like that ever again,” he said in a whisper.

“You are not a monster, Lord Thornwood,” she said, still pulling at the string.

“You can’t say that,” he said. “You still don’t know everything. You haven’t asked me how many women I have been with.”

“Does that matter?” she asked, then pinched her lips together.

“I couldn’t even give you a rough estimate because there were so many, and most of the time I was too intoxicated to keep track,” he said, the roughness returning to his voice. “I used their bodies to distract my mind from the other things that were weighing on me. I sought after the ones who were engaged or already in a relationship. There was more of a thrill that way, more of a distraction. But the euphoria never lasted long enough.”

Bridgette hugged her knees tight. “Did you ever force yourself onto a woman?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “Never.”

“You are not a monster,” she said again.

“How can you say that?” he asked helplessly. “After everything I have done?”

“I…” she paused, biting her bottom lip. “I wasn’t completely honest when I told you about my scar last night.”

THE CHANGE OF SUBJECT CONFUSED Thane. She was supposed to tell him he was right and only a despicable, unforgivable man could have done those things. He needed her to see that, but he would still be polite. “What do you mean?” he asked. He felt the door move slightly as she shifted on the other side.

“I told you he only hit me once,” she said and paused.

Thane’s back muscles tightened against the door. “He hit you more than once?”

“No, it was only once. That was the truth,” she said quickly. “My mother wasn’t so lucky.”

Thane remembered her gentle hands wrapping up his wounded one. “That is why you know how to treat and dress a wound caused by broken glass,” he said, more as a statement than a question.

“Or wood. Or leather,” she said so quietly he almost missed it. “He came after me in a different way, with his words. I almost wish he would have just hit me instead of saying such terrible things. I felt like a complete inconvenience and failure in everything I did. No matter how hard I tried to do something perfectly, there was always something he could berate me about. His favorite thing to bring up was the fact that the Fates cursed him with a daughter instead of blessing him with a son.”

Thane felt his claws cut into the flesh of his palm. If he ever happened to cross paths with that sad excuse of a man, Thane would make sure he had plenty to complain to the Fates about. “You are not a failure or an inconvenience,” he whispered.

“That’s what my mother would tell me while I treated her cuts and bruises after my father’s outbursts,” she said. “I was such a coward at the time. I should have stood up to him long before I did. I should have saved my mother from his beatings from the beginning.” Her voice was thick with emotion. It made Thane’s eyes fill with tears. There was a moment of silence before she sniffed.

Thane relaxed his hands and looked at his terrible claws. If he didn’t look so beastly, he would open the door and comfort her. He wasn’t sure why, but he had an undeniable desire to hold her again. Maybe that was what she needed to feel better—which was unfortunate, because he would never allow it. She was too good and innocent and pure, and he didn’t want to risk ruining that. She had already been through too much. He would just make it worse.

“You can’t blame yourself for that. How could a young girl be expected to stand up to the man who is supposed to protect her?” The words tasted strange on his tongue. He sounded like Senara. He hadn’t thought about the solemn sorceress for a long time. She was another person who shouldn’t have had to pay for his mistakes.

“We could always tell when he was in one of his moods. He would yell at me for practically nothing. My mom would beg me to go up to my room to be safe. I never wanted to leave her, but I listened, because that is how I was taught,” she said with a new energy in her voice. Thane stayed quiet and listened. “As I got older, I grew angrier. But I kept it all inside. He was getting worse too. My mother’s wounds were deeper and took longer to heal. One night, after Mama sent me to my room before dinner was over, I heard them yelling at each other down the hall. I peeked out of my room and watched as my father pushed my mother down the stairs. It was enough for me to scream and run out to save her. My father yelled at me to stop, but I didn’t listen. He took the bottle in his hand and hit me over the back of the head.”

Thane would kill him. There would be no hesitation. The man was scum. He deserved to be dead.

“I fell to my knees, and he dropped the bottle. Glass shattered over the floor. He picked up the intact bottle neck with jagged edges. He tried to hit me again. I tried to get away, and I covered my face with my hands. He only managed to cut me on the back of the hand. I screamed, and I think he saw the blood and got scared. He stumbled away, and I took the chance to run and lock myself in my bedroom.” She paused to take a deep breath and sighed on the exhale as if she was building her courage to continue. “I ripped my sheets and wrapped my hand as he yelled at me through the door. He accused me of causing our dire financial state and said we would soon be kicked off our land, all because I wasn’t a son or good enough to be a lady a gentleman would want to marry. He had said things like that to me before, but as I sat there curled up on the floor with tears in my eyes, blood seeping through my makeshift bandage, and my mother lying at the bottom of the stairs, I got angry.

“After a while, he left me alone. I left the safety of my bedroom and picked up the biggest piece of glass on the floor. I took it with me as I went looking for my father. I found him unconscious in his bed.” The emotion in her voice grew cold. “I stood there looking at him, knowing I had the advantage. I planned it all out in my head. Where I would stab him, how I would make sure he didn’t breathe anymore. But before I could take one step into the room, the house exploded. After I got control of my coughing and the smoke cleared, I realized my father was gone. The bed was gone. A giant hole was left in the wall and the floor. I inched to the edge of what was left of the splintered floor and looked down into the disarray. My father was pinned by a large, wooden beam. He saw me and started yelling at me to save him. Flames were licking up the space around him. He called for help, but I just stood there looking at him. He called me terrible things because I wasn’t doing anything to get him out. I stood there until another explosion almost sent me into the hole with my father. I ran back into the hall and down the stairs to where my mother was sprawled on the floor.”

A terrible, heavy dread started to fill Thane’s stomach. Bridgette sobbed on the other side of the door. And he could do nothing for her.

“She was breathing, which was a relief, but the smoke was overwhelming. I had to get her out. I struggled to pick her up. My hand stung and I bled onto her clothes. I used all my strength to get us out of the house before it collapsed. My father was still in the house. I left him to die,” she whispered with regret and disbelief. Thane swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes. “Some might say I am the monster.”

“Never,” he said with a struggle.

“But I planned how I would kill him. And I left him to burn to death. My own father.” She sounded hopeless. “Every time I look at the scar on my hand, I remember the choice I made.”

Thane turned his body so his cheek rested on the door and spoke. “A necessary choice. Had you not saved your mother, all three of you would be dead.”

“I didn’t tell anyone. I just ran away.”

Thane placed a hand on the door as if he could comfort her through it with his touch. “He hurt you and your mother. You couldn’t have saved them both. You made the right choice.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she said and sniffed. “But I am trying to move on and make life better for her. Some days are bad, most days are good. We are both alive, and I guess that is enough for now.”

Thane knew she was trying to lighten the mood or change the subject, but something inside of him wouldn’t let go of the weight in his gut. It was too similar a circumstance to be a coincidence. He had to know. “Do you know what caused the explosion?”

“Not exactly. As we ran away, we heard stories of a mob chasing a bear or some other creature and throwing torches at it. Some even claimed it was the crown prince who went mad,” she said, as if it were a completely ludicrous idea. “I am not sure how that rumor came to be, but if the mob chased it or whoever onto our land, and one of their torches hit my father’s ale storage on the side of the house, it could have caused an explosion.”

“Where did this take place?” Thane asked, although he already knew the answer.

“I was born and raised in Willow Haven,” she said. “I lived there until I ran away about nine months ago. Have you heard of it?”

Thane used a shaky hand to cover the side of his face which bore the mark of his curse and the burn from the explosion, both of which he gained nine months ago. “I have,” he confirmed. His voice was controlled, but he was spiraling on the inside. “And your mother is sick because of the explosion?”

“After I got my mother to wake up, we just walked and walked until we couldn’t anymore. She was in a lot of pain, but no doctor would see us for free. A nice merchant gave us a ride to the next town, but we couldn’t find anyone there. We did that again and again until we finally arrived here, then we were introduced to Doctor Nathan Thistle, who has been our savior. Upon his examination of my mother, he said she had a concussion from her fall down the stairs and three broken ribs. He also said one of her lungs may have been punctured, and the smoke from the fire and explosion was making it all so much worse. Doc believes the ribs have healed, but her lungs and head are taking a little longer to get better.” She didn’t cry when she talked about her mother’s ailment; her words strong and hopeful. It should have helped him not feel so guilty, but he was nauseous with the knowledge that Bridgette was in her situation because of him.

“The doctor is hopeful she will make a full recovery?” he asked.

“Well, he has done all that he can do. He has suggested I take her to a specialist to see what they can do. But that costs money, so I came here to find work to be able to pay for her care,” she said with a heaviness in her voice.

“I am so sorry, Miss Meadowbrooke—” Thane started.

“Please, call me Bridgette,” she cut in.

“Bridgette?” he asked, not able to hide the surprise in his voice.

“I have told you more about that horrible night than I have told anyone else, and you haven’t accused me of a crime or screamed I am a murderer, so I think you have earned the right to use my first name,” she said sincerely.

Thane grabbed at his shirt, felt his heartbeat quicken, and blinked away the tears in his eyes. It was such a simple gift, but a gift all the same. He had made a point to avoid learning the first names of all the women he was ever involved with. Names made it messy and too personal. His old self would have found it pathetic to be weeping over a name. He jolted at the realization. His old self, as if he were not that monster anymore. Could it be true? Could he hope?

He mouthed her name and smiled. How could a name be so beautiful?

His smile turned into a deep frown. He was an idiot to be smiling when he just found out the girl on the other side of the door was suffering because of the choices he made. But he had to admit it was convenient she happened to be working under his employ, and that he had control over how much money she was paid. It was the first good thing about the whole mess. It was also fortunate he had been a prince and had taken as much money as he could when he left the castle. Money that meant absolutely nothing to him, but could make a whole world of difference for her.

“Miss Bridgette, you are not a monster.”

“Neither are you, Lord Thornwood,” she responded.

“Please, call me—” Thane started, then froze. Was he about to tell her he was the prince who went mad? He didn’t want any association to his past life. “Call me Leander.”

“You are named after your uncle?”

“How did you—” he began.

“I may have snuck into your study when you were not there and looked at your family history record,” she said quickly. Thane could picture her cheeks turning pink. “I saw the most recent entries were three children, one of whom was Leander Thornwood, but he had no children. And the second one happened to be our last queen, may she rest in peace, and you are not the son of a queen because that would make you a prince. So, I concluded you must be the child of the sibling who was crossed out. And maybe if they were close to Leander, they would have named their son after him.” She took a deep breath, then added, “I sound like an idiot.”

“No,” Thane assured. “Your deductive reasoning is impressive. Yes, Leander is after my uncle and whom I inherited this estate from.” It wasn’t a complete lie. His uncle was Leander, and before he’d died of a heart condition, he had been the type of man Thane wished his father was. Uncle Leander had made Thornwood Estate feel like home, and that was one of the reasons Thane had come to the estate when he’d had nowhere else to go. He would much rather be Leander than Thane. He also knew his mother had another brother, but he had either died or was disowned by the Thornwoods before Thane was born. Either way, it made a convenient cover for him.

“Well, Leander,” she said sheepishly. “I stand by my assessment, based on the proof that you sound remorseful about everything you told me, you are not a monster.”

“I know I cannot change your mind about that, but it might take a little bit more to change mine,” Thane said.

“Most great things take effort and time,” she said simply.

“You are as wise as Edgar,” Thane said. She laughed melodically, and his heart fluttered. “Edgar has a bag of coins—”

“I am not taking it,” she cut in. “I am not leaving this position.”

“What if I told you it was a gift?” he asked softly.

“Then I would wonder why you would want to give a poor, clumsy girl a whole bag of gold,” she said in a teasing tone.

Because I was the reason why your house collapsed, your father died, and your mother is on her sickbed, he listed off in his mind. She deserved to know, but he was afraid of what she would think of him if she knew. He was still selfish. It was best for her to leave and never look back, but he was afraid of what his days would turn into without her. “Because you need it,” he said finally.

“Well, I hope you are not offended when I say I will not accept it,” she said proudly. “I will continue to come to work and earn my pay. And eventually, over time, you will pay me that whole bag of gold. Maybe it is because my father called me a leech too many times, but I don’t want you to just give me money. I need to prove, if only to myself, I am capable of taking care of both my mother and me. Thank you, Leander, but I insist I cannot take it.”

“If that is the way it must be, I will not force you to take it,” he said. “You are not a leech. Nothing your father said to you is true.”

“I know I cannot change your mind about that, but it might take a little bit more to change mine,” she echoed his words.

“Then with time and effort, we shall change your mind,” he responded.

“Does that mean you are up for a game of chess?”

Thane couldn’t help but smile. “I am afraid I will not play my best today.”

“Well we can’t have that, or you would take it easy on me,” she laughed. “Next time then?”

He wanted to say yes, absolutely, but what would that do? “I am not sure it is the best idea.”

“But it is not a definite no?”

“I suppose not.” How could he tell her no? She sounded excited to play chess with him. He wasn’t foolish enough to not recognize something rare.

“Good,” she said enthusiastically. He heard her skirts shift as she stood. He stood as well. “Until next week, Leander.”

“Until then, Bridgette.”

brIDGETTE HURRIED OUT OF THE study and down the stairs to the kitchen, where Edgar stood by the bag of gold. She pushed the bag closer to him.

“He didn’t scare you off?” he asked, hopefully.

“I am not leaving, Edgar,” she said with a smile. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. Especially now that the Master and I are on a first-name basis.”

Edgar raised his gray eyebrows in surprise. She didn’t acknowledge it.

“I would like to work on the gardens today, Edgar,” Bridgette said as she walked toward the door.

“As you wish, Miss Bridgette. Anything for you,” Edgar said with a low bow.