Chapter 17 #6
Three days later, Lord Rockwell came to call.
"Forgive me, Lady Campbell, for calling without notice, but there is something I must speak to you about."
Eleanor led him to her study, where they could converse in private.
"I am listening," she said, unable to conceal her concern. She prayed that nothing had happened to Marcus.
"I have brought you this journal. It belonged to my brother.
It was what sustained him during the six months he spent in captivity.
When he believed you were dead, he threw it into the fire, but I managed to save it.
The flames have damaged some pages, but most of it remains intact.
I ask you to read it, so that you may know everything my brother endured.
Here is his address, should you decide to see him again.
I apologise for interfering in your private affairs, but I cannot help myself in this case.
He is my brother after all, and this is the only thing I can think of that might help you to understand him. "
Eleanor accepted the journal, and Lord Rockwell took his leave.
She immediately began to read everything Marcus had written. She learned how he had been beaten and tortured, and how thoughts of her, together with dreams of the future they might one day share, had sustained him through it all. His love had been every bit as deep as her own.
‘What are you doing, Eleanor, with the love of your life? You are being a coward, Eleanor. He sustained all of this! He was able to sustain all of this because of you! Whippings and beatings so that he might see you again. He could have given up. He could have provoked his captors to end his pain, yet he endured. And you, you are afraid of heartache? Of scars? Of rejection? It seemed so petty in comparison.’
Suddenly, she was terribly ashamed of herself.
She brushed away her tears and set out in search of Marcus. She would face every one of her fears, but she could not bear the thought of his remaining another moment under the belief that she did not love him.
Marcus was in his small study, writing to the War Office to request a new assignment. He wished to leave England as soon as possible, to put both the country and his memories behind him.
"Sir, a lady wishes to speak with you," said the butler.
"I am not available for anyone, not even my brother or niece. Please ask her to leave." Marcus just wanted to be alone.
But after a few minutes, he was interrupted again.
Eleanor stepped into the room.
Marcus was speechless. She was the last person he had expected to see.
He knew how firm Eleanor’s resolve was. He knew how stubborn she could be.
It was, ironically, one of the things he loved most about her.
She had always been so certain in what she wanted.
Once her mind was set, it rarely changed.
Persuasion was useless. It was why he had not bothered to argue with her any further the previous night.
It was pointless; she only changed her mind when she decided something by herself.
Eleanor started, "My love, I understand why you may not want to see me now after my behaviour last night. So, please… just allow me to say that… I love you and that I was wrong! And that you were right about needing to be brave. Oh, my courageous Marcus, you are so much stronger than I shall ever be! Will you forgive me? Can you please accept me back? I have been a fool.”
Fortunately, they were alone in his office, so she threw her arms around him. She clutched him to her desperately. “Just please promise me, promise that you will never leave my side, ever again, for anything and… for the rest of our lives!”
Tears of joy streamed down Marcus’s face as he returned the hug.
“That is a promise I can gladly make, my dear Eleanor, for, indeed, I do not believe that even hurricane winds could tear me away from your side now that we are truly together again.”
If your offer still stands, I wish to be your wife tomorrow, if possible."
“Indeed!? So soon!”
“Yes, Marcus, so soon. Too much time has been stolen from us already; I cannot bear to be apart from you even one day more.”
Marcus took hold of her arms and began kissing her in every possible way.
He kissed her hands, her face, her forehead, and her lips tenderly and passionately until he finally just hugged her tightly and said through his tears, "I bought the license a month ago.
Tomorrow, you will finally be my wife, my dear and beloved Ella. "
She laughed and smiled, for now the crisis had passed. “You bought a license? That was very presumptuous of you, General Marcus Sinclair!”
“Well, since we are using full titles, Baroness Eleanor Beatrice Campbell, I know that you love me. And I know how much I love you. And if your love for me is even half of what I am certain I feel for you, then I knew that you must ultimately, someday, choose me. I am certain we belong together. We always have.”
“You are right, Marcus,” she said, staring deeply into his eyes, “you are absolutely right.”