Chapter 36
“You have a letter, Your Grace,” Mr. Billings said.
Norman turned from the window of his study.
He has been gazing out at the grounds, at the garden, recalling that he had once told Susan he would give her the power to remake them.
They had never gotten around to that, and he wondered now whether the garden would always be a reminder of what he had lost.
Perhaps I should have the whole thing torn out, he thought sourly. Maybe I should just tell the groundskeepers to get rid of it. Why do I need a garden, anyway?
He strode across the room to Mr. Billings and accepted the letter his valet held out. There was no name on the paper. “Who is this from?”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Billings admitted. “It was delivered by a messenger. I did ask who had sent it, but the man didn’t speak a word. He waited only as long as it took for me to accept the message, then turned and left.”
“Very mysterious,” Norman murmured.
“Shall I leave you alone to read it?” Mr. Billings asked.
Norman could see the keen curiosity on the valet’s face. “You may stay,” he said. “I would appreciate your input on whatever this is.” He opened the note and began to read.
Your Grace—
I write to you, although my sister Leah has told me I ought not do so, because I think you have the right to know what I am about to say. But more than that, I am writing to you because what’s happening is your responsibility. You have a duty to the woman you married.
I wish I could properly tell you what was wrong. The truth is that I don’t know. But Susan is very unwell. Walking in the garden today, she fainted.
A tremor passed through Norman as he read those words. Susan was ill? That was a painful thought. He recalled their last conversation and pressed his lips together tightly. He had been cold to her, and he knew it.
He resumed reading.
I don’t know what will happen—whether she will recover, and if so, when.
But I do know that she is your wife, and you have a duty to be by her side at a time like this.
I write to you because I believe you are a man of honor and that you will stand by that responsibility. I ask you to come be at her side now.
She has been unconscious since her fainting spell, though the physician says she will wake soon. Come and be with her when she does.
Yours sincerely,
Marina Jones.
“What is it?” Mr. Billings pressed him. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost. Is it bad news?”
“It’s Susan,” he managed to choke out. “Prepare a carriage for me at once, Billings. I’m going to visit her at her sister’s house.”
“Is everything all right?”
“No,” Norman said shortly. “She’s unwell.”
Saying the words made it feel more real than it had thus far, and his stomach clenched.
She was alone and suffering because he hadn’t done right by her.
Because he hadn’t managed to keep her close at hand.
He felt sure that none of this would be happening if she hadn’t gone off on her own, even though he knew that belief wasn’t particularly sensible.
If she was still here, she would be all right.
She would be by his side, and all would be well.
Had I never kissed her, she would be fine. I did this to her.
That made no sense. He couldn’t allow that thought to take root in his mind.
And yet, somehow, it did feel like the truth.
It felt like he was directly responsible for her plight.
Wasn’t that what this letter had been all about?
Marina was holding him responsible. She was telling him that he had neglected his wife.
She was giving him a chance to put it right.
He hurried out to the carriage, eager to be on his way.
The horses were being harnessed when he made it outside, and he paced impatiently. “We don’t have time for this. We have to get moving.”
“They’re moving as quickly as they can, Your Grace.” Billings was still at his elbow. He hesitated. “Shall I accompany you?”
“No, you should remain here,” Norman said.
Ordinarily, he would have liked to have a member of his staff with him, but he couldn’t stand the thought of answering questions on the journey, and Billings couldn’t be counted upon to remain silent.
He needed peace. His mind was already far away, already with Susan.
How could I have let her go?
He felt utterly foolish. She had given him the opportunity to stop her. At any moment, he could have told her no, that he didn’t want her to go. He could never have forced her to stay. But he hadn’t really even asked her to stay.
And that makes it my fault she left. My fault, and completely understandable. Anyone would have done the same in her shoes. I might have.
If anything happens to her, I know I will never forgive myself.
At last, the horses were ready. Billings offered him a hand into the carriage, but he ignored it and climbed in on his own. “Hurry,” he told the driver as he boarded. “Go as fast as you possibly can, I implore you. There is no time to waste.”
He knew he had been heeded because as soon as he had settled into his seat, the carriage pulled away at a rapid clip. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Even though they were now underway, the journey would take at least an hour, and who knew what could happen in that time?
Who knew what might have happened already? Susan’s fainting spell had been yesterday, according to the letter. There must have been an agreement not to contact him—an agreement Marina had violated.
She had mentioned her other sister, Leah, in the letter. So Leah was with them. Norman wasn’t sure what to make of that. Leah couldn’t have come all the way from Scotland in response to Susan’s illness. She must have been here already.
But she might have come for Susan. She might have come in sympathy for her sister, whose husband failed and neglected her. In fact, I’m sure of it. She’s here for Susan because I wasn’t.
His own failings were thrown into sharp relief once more.
Reeves had been right all along. Norman had made the wrong decisions at every turn. He had been prideful and arrogant, and he had lost his chance at love. He deserved to lose Susan now.
And I’ll accept that. But please, please, just let her be all right. I’ll accept everything else if only she recovers her health. That’s all that matters.
A tall woman with blonde hair and a frown awaited him outside Marina’s home when the carriage pulled up. He knew at once that this was not going to be easy.
“My sister told me that she wrote to you,” the woman said, her frown deepening. “I take it you are the Duke of Heathmare, Susan’s husband?”
“And you are Leah,” he surmised. “Susan told me she had another sister. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“We aren’t here for pleasantries,” Leah said, folding her arms.
“That’s right,” Norman agreed. “While I am happy to make your acquaintance, I am here for Susan.”
“You aren’t taking her anywhere,” Leah said. “Not while she’s unwell, and not until she wakes up and decides for herself where she wants to be. I won’t allow you to ride off with her against her will.”
“That’s not why I’ve come,” Norman said. “I would never try to remove Susan against her will. But I couldn’t stay away from her. Not right now. She’s my wife, as you said.”
“She’s under the impression your marriage is going to be annulled,” Leah said. “Is that the way of things?”
Norman was beginning to feel unbearably impatient.
He wanted to show his regard for Susan’s eldest sister.
He really was glad to be meeting her for the first time, and barging past her didn’t seem like the way to show that.
But at the same time, she was keeping him from the thing he wanted—needed—more than any other.
He had to know that Susan was all right.
He had to see her with his own eyes, had to reassure himself that all would be well.
Until he’d done that, nothing else would really matter.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen in terms of the marriage,” he said.
“Susan asked me for an annulment. If that’s what she wants, she’ll have it.
But I can’t discuss that right now. I came here because Marina’s letter let me know that she was ill.
That’s more important than any of this. You have to let me see her. ”
“I don’t have to,” Leah said.
She was watching him. Sizing him up. Norman took a deep breath.
“I will see her,” he said. “You can’t stop me.
It’s my wife you’re talking about. I know that you’re trying to protect her, and I’m grateful for that.
But one way or another, I am going to get to my wife.
I am going to be by her side. I’ll be here to provide anything she might need.
When all is said and done, when she has recovered from this illness, she may send me away if she likes.
I won’t fight her, if that’s her decision.
But I won’t allow anyone else to send me away from her. ”
Leah inclined her head slowly. “I see,” she murmured. “I was right about you,”
What that meant, Norman couldn’t even begin to guess. He also found he didn’t care. The important thing was getting to Susan’s side, and now Leah was stepping back to allow him to pass. He hurried into the house, intent on rushing to Susan, and then realized he didn’t know where to find her.
“Up the stairs and to the right,” Leah said. She seemed to have come around entirely and was now determined to help him. “It’s the third door you’ll come to.”
He nodded thanks and rushed up the stairs.
The third door on the right was closed, but there was a flicker of light beneath it that indicated a lit candle. He wanted to barge right in, but of course that would have been the wrong thing to do—he raised a hand and knocked instead.
Marina opened the door. Her face collapsed in relief at the sight of him. “You came,” she murmured. “I’m so glad—and so grateful.”
“Your sister almost didn’t let me in,” he said.
“She didn’t know whether to trust you. I told her we could.” Marina stepped back to admit him. “I’ve known all along.”
She didn’t say what she knew. Norman had a feeling he understood her all the same.
Could she really have known all along that he would fall in love with Susan?
And then he saw her.
Susan was lying in bed, flat on her back. Her cheeks were bone-white. Her eyes were closed.
He felt as if his lungs had given out.
He rushed to the bed and knelt beside her, taking her hand in his, desperate to summon her back to him.
“Susan,” he whispered. “Susan, love, wake up.”
But she didn’t stir. And now Norman was truly confronted with the agony of his own helplessness.
He had rushed to be at her side. He’d felt as though being here would solve the problem—but of course it hadn’t. It couldn’t.
The truth was, there was nothing at all he could do.
She would come back to him or she wouldn’t. He had no control. And only time would tell.
Gripping her hand, he settled in to wait.