Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Rhys had a dream that night… no, it was more akin to a nightmare.
He went to bed in soaring spirits. As he tucked himself in, he felt the tingle on his lips that still held Violet’s sweet taste.
As he pulled up the covers of his blankets, he felt their warmth as if Violet was holding him tight.
And as he closed his eyes, he remembered so clearly the words they spoke together, and how right they had felt.
For a few moments there, Rhys was in a state of perfect peace and harmony, and he knew without question that he had made the right decision. This is what it meant to care for another, and this was what it meant to not be afraid.
That was when the nightmare took him.
It was one he had before, one that at a certain point in his life had been as common as breathing. But that was years ago, and Rhys had foolishly allowed himself to forget… or maybe he just hoped that enough had changed in his life that he would never have to think about it again.
The nightmare started with a screaming match.
He stood in Eleanor’s room, berating her for being so immature and foolish.
She wept and claimed that she was in love, and he refused to listen.
She asked that he trust her, and he denied such a request. She begged that he be reasonable, and he told her that as long as she lived under his roof, she would do as she was told.
The nightmare quickly shifted after that.
It brought him to a small room in a house he had found on a farm in the north.
The smell of blood hung in the air… the stench of death.
Before him was a bed with sheets coated in dried blood that had turned brown, and without having to ask the question, Rhys knew the answer.
He fell to his knees and wept. This was his fault; there could be no denying it.
He had driven his sister away, forced her into exile, and now she was dead.
Anger flooded him. Guilt and shame both.
Most of all, it was that simmering realization that burned in the back of his mind’s eye… a truth that he could no longer refute.
To love was to know pain. To care for someone was to invite failure. And if Rhys ever dared to love and care for someone again, this would be their fate…
Rhys woke in the middle of the night, screaming his sister’s name.
It took him a moment to realize where he was and what had happened, but that did not ease his suffering.
He cast his mind back to earlier that night, the kiss and the confession of affection.
What had felt so right and so pure suddenly burned like acid and roiled his insides so that he thought he might be sick.
He was weak. He was foolish. And worst of all, he had invited someone new into his world just so that he could hurt them like he had his sister. And because he cared for this person, because they trusted him, it would make that moment when they suffered all the worse to bear.
What have I done?
Rhys almost skipped breakfast that morning.
Every piece of good sense that lived inside of him screamed at him to do so. The nightmare from the previous night meant he did not go back to sleep, and those visceral images and the memories that they scarred through his brain sat with him as night turned into morning.
To go back to how things had been was safer. To simply cut Vioet from his life was surely the right thing to do? Not the easy thing, but in the long run, he had to believe that he was doing it for her.
Or am I doing it for myself… and does that even matter? As long as she is kept safe from me?
In the end, he could not resist the urge to see her again.
It really was that simple. Despite his reservations and his fears, the thought of not looking upon her perfect face and seeing her in the clear light of day was haunting unto itself, and Rhys hoped that perhaps in so doing he might be afforded some clarity.
He did not want things to go back to how they had been, ignoring Violet, cutting her from his life completely. But he did not want to risk hurting her with the inevitable misery and pain that was sure to come if they grew too close… if they cared too much.
So, he determined to see her, and then he would decide.
“Good morning!” Violet was already seated for breakfast, as was Lucy. And when Rhys walked into the breakfast room she sat up, a smile broke across her face, and the sun which broke through the window seemed to shine that little bit brighter. “Someone slept well.”
Rhys balked in the doorway.
As expected, Violet was even more beautiful than he remembered.
And it went beyond physical beauty. There was just something about her presence that pierced him through the chest so that his heart exploded.
It was how she looked at him that did it, that sense of trust that she afforded him for reasons that he did not deserve.
No… I did this. I wormed my way into her trust. I trapped her without her even knowing it.
“Are you going to join us?” she laughed because Rhys stood frozen in the doorway. “Lucy has been speaking of nothing but you all morning.”
“I have not!” Lucy cried while also giggling.
Violet winked at her. “Oh yes, you are right. That was me.”
He wanted to sit and join them. He wanted to renew those feelings that had been shared last evening. He wanted to prove to himself that they were not fleeting, and that if he dared to try, that he and Violet might see them grow like well-watered roses basking in the summer sun.
But then his memories attacked him… washed over him so that he stumbled back. His sister’s tears. His anger. And the sadness felt when he learned of her fate… a fate that he had caused.
What Rhys wanted did not matter, and that was a truth he had accepted long before Violet came into his life. Worse still, to lie about it, to try and fix it, was wrong and selfish, because some wounds were beyond healing. Some scars simply ran too deep.
I am sorry, Violet. Please, forgive me…
“Not today.” Rhys straightened up and forced himself to look plainly upon Violet; no indication of all that he could hardly stop himself from gaping. “I am busy.”
“Oh.” She blinked at the sharpness of his response but then laughed it off. “A shame, as for the first time in weeks I find myself with nothing but free time. I wonder what I will do with it…” She let that question trail and looked expectantly at him.
“I am sure you will think of something,” he said simply.
Again, she blinked, and that time she did not laugh it away. Rather, she looked at Rhys with confusion; only then did she seem to notice how strangely he was acting.
“Rhys, is something the matter?” she ventured.
“Not that all,” he said. “Why would it be?”
“I…” Her brow furrowed. “No reason. Perhaps later we might go for another walk? I rather enjoyed our one last evening.”
Rhys resisted the urge to grimace. His thoughts tried to return to the garden last evening, the moment they shared, and that kiss. His body tried to react to it, pulses erupting, tingling cascading across his skin that had his heart soaring. But he pushed those back.
“Unlikely,” he said stiffly. “I will be busy all day. I just wished to let you know.” He looked pointedly at her, no emotion on his face, as removed as was possible.
Violet finally seemed to understand what was going on. And while he might have liked to have seen anger flare behind her eyes, what he saw instead was worse: acceptance and complete understanding, as if she ought to have known this was going to happen.
“Thank you for letting me know,” she said.
“Of course, and if you need anything, I would prefer you ask the staff first and have them sent to me. Mr. Marrow would be best.” He nodded once, refused to meet Violet’s eyes, then turned and walked from the room.
He did not stop walking until he reached his office.
It was only then that Rhys allowed his thoughts to catch up with his actions. He fell back against the door, his heart thumping painfully, his breathing coming in deep gulps as if he had forgotten how, and guilt crashing down upon him like waves.
That was harder to do than he had hoped. Worse still, it was only the beginning. From now on, Rhys needed to separate himself from Violet as much as he could, reminding her of what this marriage was always meant to be. Not what he wanted it to be, but what it had to be.
For Lucy… for Violet… and for Eleanor.