Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Alice clutched the bedpost of her four-poster bed and stared determinedly at the steaming bathtub Jenny had prepared. Since the doctor and his exercises, she had been steadily getting stronger, and now was the final test.
Could she do this?
She tested pressing her foot against the floor. Toes first, then flattening it. As always, a dull ache resounded through her calf, but she thought it felt a little less potent than it had. And when she rested more of her weight on it, she felt as though it might collapse underneath her.
“Are you all right, my lady?” Jenny called out, wringing her hands.
“More than all right. I think I might be able to do this.”
Jenny nodded, visibly steeling herself. “Very well, my lady.”
Alice sucked in a deep breath and pushed off from the bedpost. Her foot felt clumsy, so rarely used as it was, and with the full press of her weight, her leg threatened to buckle.
She made a few uneven steps toward the bath before she finally felt as though she was picking up speed. Falling into a rhythm.
It was not the graceful step of a lady; she would likely never have that.
But her stick lay beside the bed, untouched, and she had no support other than what her own body gave her.
Yes, her leg ached, small spirals of pain moving through her as she continued toward the bath, but that was a small price to pay for mobility.
She would spend the rest of her life in pain if it meant she could finally walk again. Even walking like this would be enough.
Finally, she reached the bath. She turned to face Jenny, beaming from ear to ear. “We did it!”
“That we did, Your Grace!” Jenny’s own smile split her face. “How do you feel?”
“Stronger than I’ve felt since before—” She paused, the words on the tip of her tongue. Before the accident. Back then, of course, she had taken walking for granted, never knowing what a gift moving through the world could be.
Frederick had been the one to take that away from her. And he might be the one to give it back.
She dropped her head into her hands as she rested her hip against the ceramic lip of the bath.
“I don’t know what to think,” she said, letting her hands fall and looking at Jenny.
“I want to hate His Grace, and sometimes I think I do. But other times I think he might be one of the most decent men I have ever met.”
Jenny chewed on her lip as she pondered her response. “The servants all speak well of him,” she said slowly. “By all accounts, he has been putting himself back together for the past—” She broke off, but Alice knew what she was going to say.
The past five years. Since the accident.
“I can’t forgive him,” she breathed, almost desperately. “I don’t want to.”
“Don’t you, Your Grace?”
“Of course not! He ruined my life in every respect. Even if he didn’t mean to”—she could admit that now, especially considering he had given her little choice—“that doesn’t change what happened. I’ve been so angry for so long. I can’t just let it go.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Everything would be easier if he was cruel and treated me badly. Then I wouldn’t feel as though I ought to be grateful to him.”
Grateful that he was slowly putting her back together.
Grateful for his patience and acceptance of the punishment she was doling out, even though she knew at least some part of him hated it.
“You are married to him,” Jenny put in after a long moment. “He has done so much to take away from your happiness. What would make you more happy now? To hold a grudge, or…” She let the words hang, and Alice closed her eyes, reaching for the tub.
Her emotions revolted. One part of her could acknowledge that he never meant to harm her, and now wanted to make it up as best he knew how.
The other part still resented him for everything that happened.
That part of her hated herself for the way she enjoyed his touch.
Every time she considered being with him as man and wife—the way they truly ought to be—she felt a physical reaction against it.
A guilt so deep-seated, she didn’t think she could ever erase it.
What a fate, to be so bound to a man she didn’t know if she could ever bear to be with.
“Everything would be easier if I could hate him,” she murmured, the slightest break to her voice.
“I know, Your Grace.” Jenny helped her into the bath and handed her the soap. “I wish I could provide you with an answer, but there’s nothing to be done about it now but to endure.”
“I have something for you,” Frederick greeted when Alice descended the next morning. Ordinarily, after breakfast, he went about his business, but he found himself too eager to see how she reacted to wait until the afternoon or evening.
She paused, one hand on the banister as she looked at him, her expression wary. “What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.” He reached a hand out to her. “Come.”
“Will I like it?”
“I hope so. That’s the purpose of the exercise.” Taking her hand, he placed it firmly in his arm and led her through the house and through to the courtyard that spanned the rear of the property. Their stables were elsewhere, but he had the horse brought around for the purpose of his surprise.
She paused in the doorway when she beheld the mare waiting, a stable boy holding the reins. The mare was a beautiful, dappled creature with a sweet disposition but ‘a lot of go’ according to the man who sold her.
“I had some time finding a mount you might appreciate,” he declared, placing a hand at the small of her back and ushering her outside into the sunshine. “You said to Helena that you used to ride often, so I supposed you were an able horsewoman.”
“How could you know that?” she interjected. “I might be a terrible rider for all you know.”
“You could,” he agreed. “But I know you a little by now, dear wife, and I suspect you are not mediocre at anything you put your mind to.” He smiled at her. “And the fact you miss it so much tells me you used to excel.”
To his horror, her eyes brimmed with tears. “My father used to take me out riding. And I often went out by myself. We had a large estate, and so long as I remained within its bounds, he allowed me to go where I chose. That freedom was—”
He had been the one to take that away.
Before he could think better of it, he leaned in, cupping her cheek in one hand and rubbing away her tears. “I wish I could take it back,” he said fiercely. “But I hope through this, you can find some of that freedom again.”
She moved away from his touch, and he made no attempt to stop her. “London’s rules are different.”
“My grooms are at your disposal. And so am I, if you ever wish to ride with me.” He led her carefully forward, adjusting his speed to match hers. “I spoke with the physician and had a special saddle commissioned. He sees no danger in you riding, so long as you support your leg.”
She remained silent, staring up at the horse. “For me?” she whispered.
“Why don’t you name her? Perhaps that will make her feel more real.”
She stepped forward, leaving the protection of his support and limping closer to the mare, resting her hand against the horse’s neck. “I shall call you… Fortuna,” she declared, her tone soft but reverent. “You are a symbol of good fortune to come.”
Frederick rubbed at his chest, where he felt as though he might have heartburn, and strode forward to the special saddle he’d had prepared. #
“Why don’t you ride around the courtyard to get used to it?” He flicked his fingers and attendants came to affix the saddle to Fortuna. It was side saddle, of course, but with a built-in support for her damaged leg, holding it steady and straight.
“Ingenious,” she murmured, reaching out and pressing her fingertips against the leather. “Can it be adjusted?”
“Here.” He showed the straps that bound the leather to her leg. “That way, as you build up muscle, it will continue to fit you. Until perhaps you no longer need it after all.”
Her gaze flicked to him and then away, so fast he almost missed the movement. “Do you think that’s likely?”
“That you’ll recover enough to ride without help?” He shrugged.
The doctor had given him little enough in the way of assurance every time he’d asked, but he understood that was because her case could not be guaranteed. Still, he felt hopeful. Already, her frame seemed stronger, and although she still walked with the stick, he fancied she needed it less.
“I think it entirely possible,” he nodded. “Nothing in this life is certain, but we can work under the assumption it is, and make provisions if it’s not. I will keep trying to find a way if I have to.”
He paused, and she glanced up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher. The air crackled with heat and tension—as though she had not expected his pronouncement, and couldn’t process it.
At the same time, he saw gratitude in her eyes. Reluctant, but present nevertheless. Relief warmed his chest.
He waved a hand at Fortuna, now saddled and bridled and ready to be ridden. “This shall always be here in case you need it, and there are other ladies’ saddles available if you ever have need of them. And Fortuna, so I believe, will suit an expert rider well, while still being sweet-tempered.”
“You think of everything.” Although her tone was wry, the smile slipped from her eyes as she regarded him. “Thank you. You didn’t need to do this.”
“What have I told you.”
At a quick glance, the servants bowed and left the courtyard, so there were just the two of them standing together.
He rested a hand on her upper arm, drawing her fractionally into him.
His blood heated, calling for her touch, but he dared not get any closer.
“You are my wife. I will always do things that will make you happy and improve your quality of life wherever possible.”
“Discharging your duty toward me,” she murmured, tipping her head back. Her eyes were beautiful today, somber and deep, like twin pools of honey he could drown in.
“If that’s how you’d prefer to think of it,” he replied.
“Do you like me?”
He frowned, unsettled by the question. Fortuna snorted beside them, standing patiently, but it was as though Alice had forgotten all about her horse as she looked at him. As though she might be falling into his touch just as much as he fell into hers.
“How do you mean?” he asked cautiously.
“I mean, if you didn’t think you owed me, would you have any desire to do this for me? I know you—” Here, her cheeks reddened. “I know you find me attractive. But what of…”
“I would like you better if you stopped requesting Cook make kippers for breakfast.” He laughed softly at the unexpected chagrin that crossed her face.
“But yes, I do like you. I think you are clever and strong and even though we have not always gotten along…” Now it was his turn to pause. “You know my wishes for you.”
“Mm, I know.” The corner of her mouth tilted mischievously, though it didn’t lift the dark expression in her eyes. “You want to kiss me.”
“Very much,” he murmured, looking down at her mouth. “I have ever since…” Ever since the day he had first kissed her. “And you?”
That was an admission too far for her, he could see; her lips tightened and she would have stepped away if not for the hand on her arm. “Would you like to kiss me now?”
“I—” The desire that kicked through his body felt like a punch to the gut, stripping his breath from him, but he peered down at her even so. “Do you mean it?”
Her chin rose. “As a thank you. For the horse.”
“You don’t need to offer me your body as a gesture of appreciation,” he said soberly. “That is not why I did it.”
“I have nothing else to offer you.”
You could offer me your forgiveness. But that wasn’t likely. Nor was it right.
This concession was the best he was going to get.
“I would very much like to kiss you,” he conceded, looking down at her, his hand on her waist—he couldn’t remember putting it there. “But only if it is because you wish to kiss me too. Not as some twisted act of gratitude.”
He felt certain she would refuse. Turn away. Return her attention to Fortuna and everything she represented.
Instead, with a growl of irritation, Alice reached up for the back of his neck and dragged his face down to meet hers.