Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Rhys returned to his home with a mood that matched the storm which raged overhead. Lightning cracked the sky, thunder shook the earth, and he swept inside as if he meant to lay waste to all that sat before him.
He knew that he should have felt joyous for the news that he had been given. To think that all this time, the child that he had searched for all those years was already living with him. That he had found her, saved her, and done as he promised.
Better still, that he had done so not because he thought he must, but because he wanted to do so.
How proud of me my sister would be…
Yes, he should have been happy, but he could not escape the feeling of betrayal that left such a bitter taste in his mouth that he thought he might be sick. All this time, Violet had judged him, acting as if he needed to change who he was, when she was the one who had betrayed their trust.
He stormed through the house, unable to dispel that anger he felt towards Violet.
How could she have kept this from him? How could she have believed that she was doing the right thing? And to think that he had come so close to asking her to return home, believing that they might be able to reconnect and try at being a family…
How can I ever forgive her?
It was a good thing that Lucy found him at that moment. She appeared at the top of the staircase and beamed when she saw him in the foyer.
“Papa!” she cried out as she started down the staircase.
That she called him as such did much to make Rhys feel better. For a moment, he was able to ignore the hurt and the pain, and focus on the good that had come from this day.
He watched Lucy slowly come down the stairs, and his smile was as real as it had ever been.
She looked so much like Eleanor, and now he knew the reason.
She was his niece… now his adopted daughter…
and Rhys would never stop loving her. From this day on, everything that he did would be for Lucy so that she might live the life that she deserved, and one that would make his sister happy.
“There she is.” Rhys bent down and scooped Lucy into the air.
She laughed as he did so, and he pulled her into a tight hug, wanting to feel a sense of completion at having finally found his sister’s lost child.
Strangely, Rhys felt no such thing.
Oh sure, he was happy beyond belief. And yes, he was overwhelmed by the love in his heart. But it was not what he expected it to be. In fact, as he held Lucy close, Rhys realized that the feelings which swirled through him were the same as he would have felt no matter who Lucy was.
This last week had seen Rhys change greatly. He no longer cared for Lucy out of duty or obligation, but because he saw her as his daughter. It did not matter if she was related to him by blood, or that he had spent years searching for her. She was his and that was what mattered.
“Mama?” Lucy asked as he set her down. Lucy looked around hopefully.
Rhys grimaced. “No, Lucy. Just me.”
Her face scrunched into a tight ball. “Why?”
He grimaced again. “Because… Violet is…” He struggled to find an explanation that made sense. “It is just you and me, Lucy.” He took her hand. “But I love you.”
Lucy looked up at Rhys with hope in her eyes. “And Mama? She… Does she not… love me?”
“Of course she does.”
“Why?” Lucy asked again. “Where? I thought… we were family?”
That final word was like a knife in Rhys’ chest.
He winced and leaned back. He very nearly released Lucy’s hand. Dammit, he wanted to look away because the shame he felt in that moment was akin to being found in a storm—the one purpose of which was to see him drown.
Rhys was committed to Lucy, and that was undeniable. Now that he had accepted who he was, everything he would do was for her. But was that enough? And was he wrong to think that he alone could give her the life that she needed?
He had been angry at Violet, and rightfully so. She had lied to him, withheld information to manipulate him because she did not trust who he was. And as much as he hated to admit it… she had been right.
A week ago, Rhys was not a good man. And he was certainly not capable of caring for Lucy as she deserved. In fact, the only reason he had become that man was because of what Violet had done.
She might have gone the wrong way about it, but that did not change the fact.
Rhys found himself turning and looking toward the front door.
He pictured Violet then, back where he had left her, utterly distraught and bereaved and broken. It was an image he could see clearly, because he had seen her like that before. And always, he was the cause.
I have hurt her so many times, and even then, she stayed by me… she trusted me, when she had no reason to.
She alone had believed that Rhys could change, and it was because of her that he had done.
She had denied her own happiness time and again, always done because she wanted him to grow and become a better person.
It was not for her, and it was not so that she might feel good about herself. That simply wasn’t who she was.
And now that she needed help… I abandoned her.
It came to Rhys at that moment. Like being struck by lightning, a sudden voltage that had him snapping into himself. Always, Violet was the one to help when someone else needed it, but when she was the one who needed that help, who would be there to give it?
“Lucy…” Slowly, he released her hand. “I have to go.”
“Where?”
He stayed looking at the door. He pictured what he had to do. He realized that he had been wrong to accuse Violet. She was alone, she needed someone to help her, and as far as Rhys could tell, there was only one person in the world who might do that.
“To get your mother back.” With that said, Rhys strode back across the foyer, kicked open the door, and waded into the storm.
As Violet had helped him to change, it was time that Rhys helped her. He owed it not just to her, and not just to himself, but to Lucy… and, of course, to Eleanor.
Rhys’ carriage broke down halfway back to Violet’s home.
“It’s the storm!” the driver shouted through the rain and wind. “These roads, Your Grace! The carriage is not made for them!”
Rhys stood in the rain as he studied the carriage wheel. It was lodged in the mud, and despite how hard the horses pulled, it refused to budge. He looked at the dreadful sky; he knew that the storm would not pass anytime soon, and he realized what he had to do.
“The horses!” he shouted and pointed to the first horse. “Unshackle it!”
“Your Grace! This storm is unlike any I have seen! The danger of riding in it alone is—”
“It was not a question!” he barked. “Do it, now!”
The driver did not argue and a minute later saw the first horse in the rank unshackled from the carriage. Rhys mounted the steed quickly, and without another word spoken, he kicked his heels into its side and had it racing along the muddy road.
He rode hard. He rode with purpose. He rose with a sense of urgency found in a sudden yearning for what he knew that he needed to do.
It was not a question of whether it was the right thing, or what it might lead to.
The simple fact was that Violet needed help, and he would not rest until she had it.
It was twenty minutes later when Rhys arrived outside Violet’s townhouse. The storm still bullied the day, and the wind was such that it threatened to throw Rhys from his horse. But he steered it as close to the front door as he could before climbing down.
And it was just as his feet hit mud that the front door opened.
“Rhys?” Violet stood in the doorway, and she could not have looked more surprised. “What are you doing?”
Rhys stayed in the rain; he stood feet away from the front door, letting the storm drench him as if to show Violet what he was willing to go through for her.
“You need help!” he cried.
“What?”
“Admit it!” he shouted at her. “You need help! I did not see it before, but I see it now! Everything you have done, always, is for another. But Violet…” He looked desperately at her.
“It is not a weakness to ask for help! It is not cowardice to realize that you are drowning and reach for an extended hand that might save you! I am here! Giving you my hand, Violet!” He extended his hand. “Take it!”
She looked at him with bewilderment. “What are you… What are you saying?”
“You made a mistake!” Rhys continued, his hand still outstretched. “I was mad at you, but I know now that I should not have been. What you did was for the right reason, but it was also a cry for help!”
“I… I do not need help, Rhys! I was trying to help you!”
“You did help me,” Rhys implored. “That is all you have ever done! And now it is time that I return the favor!” Again, he held out his hand for her.
She eyed the hand with hesitancy. “I… no. You are right to hate me, Rhys. I deserve it.”
He laughed. “As I have deserved it on so many occasions, Violet. But always, you stayed by me. Even when you left, it was to help me because I needed it, purely because I refused to accept it. You have turned your back on yourself for so long, refusing to accept help because…” He smiled.
“Like me, you did not believe that you deserved to be happy. You are afraid!”
“I am not afraid!”
“You are!” he cried. “As I was! But I am no longer, and that is because of you. Now, it is your turn to be happy, Violet. You deserve that! But you cannot be until you admit it! Please, admit that you want it, Violet! Admit that you want happiness… to be looked after… to trust! Admit that as you helped me, I can now help you!” Hand extended, he looked pleadingly at her.
Violet continued to eye his hand, but the stubbornness on her face faded. “What if…” She withdrew into herself. “What if I fail? What if I make everything worse?”
“At least you will have tried,” he said with a smile that was loving and warm so that it seemed to block out the rain.
“Lucy is home waiting for you, Violet. I love her, and I want to raise her as my own. But I cannot do that alone. She needs more than a father, she needs more than security and protection. What she needs…” He shook his head and then looked at her knowingly.
“She needs love, Violet. She needs you.”
Violet said nothing but he could see his words having an effect.
“Take my hand,” he pleaded to her. “Let me help you, Violet. You are not alone, and you do not have to do this by yourself. Take my hand and together… as you helped me to change and accept who I am, let me help you.”
Her realization was slow coming, but he saw the fire light behind her eyes. A smirk on her lips. A raised eyebrow as if to dismiss him. “And I can trust you, can I? After all you have done?”
“There is only one way to find out. But do not do it for me. Do not do it for Lucy. For once, take a chance on yourself, Violet. Nobody deserves it more.”
He knew then that he had her.
It was the smile that slowly etched up her face that told him so. It was the way her shoulders relaxed. It was the dismissive way that she shook her head at him, as if she could not believe that he was doing this… just as she could not believe that it was working.
And then, ever so slowly, Violet stepped into the rain.
It bathed her so that she was drenched in seconds. Her hair was matted. Her clothes became stuck to her. But her skin glistened in the rain, her eyes sparkled, and never before had she looked so beautiful as then.
That was the exact moment when Rhys finally accepted how he felt. He did not care for her. He did not simply see her as the mother to his child. No… what he saw was the woman he loved.
She took his hand, and he pulled her into his body.
She gasped as his other hand went around her waist. For a brief second they looked into one another’s eyes, accepting the moment for what it was and what it meant. No more lies. No more denying their feelings. From then on, the truth only.
With that realized, Rhys leaned forward, brought his face to Violet’s and kissed her as he had never kissed anyone before.
She kissed him right back, and as their lips met, as their mouths opened, as their tongues danced, the storm parted and the midafternoon sun shone upon them as if to announce to the world the dawning of a new day.
Slowly, Rhys pulled back so that he could look at her. “Is now a good time to tell you how much I love you?”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “It is a little late, but I suppose that now will do.” She smiled. “As I love you. Also a little late but…”
“Better late than never.”
Rhys kissed Violet again, she held that kiss, and he knew for the first time in years that he was not just happy, but that this was the type of happiness that had been worth the fight.
For all the pain that Rhys had been through, all the heartache and the suffering, that kiss made it worth the cost.
What was more, he knew that what was born from that kiss would be the type of life that he and Violet not only deserved, but had both earned. And neither of them would take it for granted ever again.