The Longest Day Has An End
Verity closed her eyes.
Unsure how her truth of the past would be received.
He said not a word; the silence drew taut.
Then all at once the bed bounced with abrupt force.
Verity snapped her eyes open and gawped as in no more than a handful of strides, he’d crossed the room, flung open the door and vanished into the hall. The door slammed behind him.
So…this was it. The consequences of that truth.
He’d left.
Could now see why there was no future for them.
A gruff rumble permeated from behind the door, followed by the distinctive march of boot on floorboard. An enormous thud struck the wall before there came the unmistakeable smash of something fragile.
That was no cat.
Was he–
The door handle turned and Miles stepped inside once more.
His hair was disordered, cravat skewwhiff, a flush high upon his cheekbones, his knuckles a tad…raw, and when his eyes met hers…they boiled with such anger, jaw locked tight as an oyster.
“Miles?”
“Sorry about that, Verity,” he growled. “And I’ll pay for the mirror.”
Gracious…
With a deep breath, he took to marching the rug.
“My men in the regiment used to say I was the sole officer without a temper, that I could always be relied upon for my calmness, so I apologise again, but…” He swallowed.
“What the bloody hell were your relatives thinking? Your father had just been murdered. You needed time and care.”
“They thought the doctors knew best and I…I could not disagree. My life no longer felt my own…this uncontrollable…thing in charge of me. I was persuaded as well. And as it turned out, I was not there too long.”
“It matters not. You were seventeen, Verity. An innocent seventeen at that.” He flung his head back. “Did you know you were being sent there? That last time we met in the orchard.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I slept not a wink the night before. Tormented as to whether to tell you. But…but maybe they were right. Maybe I was now mad. Maybe you would think I was mad. Maybe…I needed to be there.”
“Nev–”
“I felt numb. I was scared of telling you. Scared of going. Scared of me. How long would I be there for – perhaps months but perhaps forever – and how would that have affected you? I could not ask that of you. Not only was I unable to travel as we’d dreamed of but you could not be obliged to some madwoman that you’d only known for the summer. ”
His head dropped and she sensed some of the fury drain from him.
“How long…” he whispered. “How long were you there for?”
“Little more than a month.”
“That’s more than a month too long.” And he marched over to the dressing table, seized the damask-upholstered chair and marched back to place it about three feet from her.
Then sank into it.
Verity swallowed. “I do not blame you. I would not sit beside me either – for my lies to you.”
His head rose. “If I sit beside you, Verity Seymour, I will crush you to me and never, ever let you go. That is why I sit here.” Tanned fingers splayed on the arm rests. “And if you feel able, please, tell me what followed.”
Now the worst was over, the rest tumbled from her like a breached dam.
“I-I hardly recall the carriage ride to the asylum in Kent. They dosed me with laudanum.” Those fingers clenched the upholstery.
“They gave me my own room, which should’ve been a blessing but the four walls…
I was alone. With the shadows and the dreams. They questioned me endlessly, the doctor writing in his notebook, observing my weight and my eye colour as though that had something to do with it.
I felt mad there. I felt the stares of the nurses and the attendants.
I saw them restrain screaming women and heard yells all the days.
They never allowed paper or pen and I could not draw.
After those first weeks, they prescribed a regime for me – cold baths, strict diet and other things that I understood not.
I lost track of time. I remember crying myself to sleep, desperately trying to draw flowers in my mind, but they would no longer come to me. ”
Miles’ eyes were closed. “Please, no…” he rasped. And she knew what he needed to hear.
“Then one morning, I was summoned to the doctor’s office, I thought it would be to start some new treatment from the regime, but…
but sat there was Aunt Theo. In a grey gown and a squashed hat.
I shall always remember. She looked most angry, said nothing, stood and just…
just gathered me in her arms, hugged me so close and told me to get my belongings. We were leaving.”
His eyes opened. “Your Aunt Theo is too good a person for this world.”
Verity’s lips curved for the first time.
“She’d been a governess on the Continent but we’d exchanged letters quite often.
News of my father’s death had reached her but by the time she’d made it back to the Surrey estate, I’d just been sent to the asylum.
Aunt Theo never told me, but according to Jenkins there’d been a fine rumpus that had raised the rafters.
Theo accusing my Great-Aunt Lucia and Sir Oswald of abandoning me, that they should be ashamed.
So she told them she’d look after me. That she’d seen many strange matters as a governess and as far as she was concerned, I just needed rest and quiet to recover.
Once I arrived back at Sir Oswald’s estate as it now was, Aunt stood beside me to speak with him about my dowry and investments that my father had left me, and to his credit, they were being safely managed by his man of affairs.
So with his permission and Aunt’s proficiency as regards letters and banks, I was able to draw the monies. ”
“As you should. They were your father’s bequest.”
She cast a sad smile. “Yes, he had provided for me amply. So Aunt and I rented a small but open and bright cottage on the east coast and spent our time walking the beach, collecting shells, reading and drinking copious tea. Even tried sea bathing. All the things to cure ills. And it did. T-to an extent.”
“When did you come to London?”
“My episodes of this fear grew less, but I’d also learned to control them by avoiding what caused them.
But we could not rent forever and as Sir Oswald’s guardianship had ended and I was much improved, we began to consider this townhouse that Father had also left me.
No entailment as it originally belonged to Mother’s family.
” She grinned and glanced around the spacious, many-windowed room.
“Of course, I had to make a few amendments. The neighbours wondered what on earth was happening.”
Miles let out a deep breath. Then rose to his boots. In one long stride was at the bed.
Verity bit her lip and wondered what he was to say.
He sat aside her. Cupped her nape.
And kissed her.
Not hurried, but instead with a calm tenderness imbuing his touch, and she surrendered to the warmth of his lips, the brush of stubble against her skin and the gentle press of his calloused palms. He drew a little away and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I do not blame you for not telling me this,” he whispered.
“Indeed, in such a situation, I would have done the same. But what I do not understand is, why be so reluctant to tell me now?”
She drew back, shook her head. “When all is said and done, Miles, nothing has changed.”
“Of course it has. I’m an earl, not some penniless second son. A man who can do as he chooses.”
“Yes, you are an earl now, Miles. With all the responsibilities of one. You need to marry a fine young lady for your countess. One who is free from burden and fear. You still wish to travel and explore. So I thought it best you continued in your mistrust of me, your dislike. I hoped in time, we could return to being friends, but I find…I cannot be just friends with you, Miles. We keep kissing.”
He smiled. “But why would we remain just friends, Verity? Perhaps I would wish to court you anew.”
She blinked. Had she been talking to herself all this time?
“Miles… I’ve been in an asylum. My name is in their books with my condition. I’m listed in their registers. You are an earl. Can you imagine the scandal if you courted such a woman? You’d be ridiculed. Given the cut by some. An outcast in the House of Lords and–”
“If anyone dared say a word, I’d wring their bloody ne–”
“No. No, you couldn’t. You have the Stonewold lineage and reputation to uphold.” She shook her head. “You seek a bride, I know. The whole Ton knows. And you need someone like…like Juliet Tait. Young. Refined. Impeccable.”
“I don’t wan–”
“Besides which, my affliction would prevent me from performing many duties of a countess. And who knows,” she continued, “maybe it is some sort of delicacy of nerves that may return more often. You wouldn’t want to–”
“I knew a soldier,” he interrupted, “who could no longer abide cannon fire. He cringed from it, huddled down, chest heaving, hands to his ears, his head shaking. The regimental surgeons thought him mad and were on the verge of sending him to an asylum before myself and another officer got him out of there and back to his family.” He snorted.
“So what do you think, Verity? Would you have considered my now factotum and coachman, Lynch, to be mad?”
“No, of course not! I think such terrible experiences affect one, in ways we do not understand.”
“Then do not presume to tell me, my dear Amaranth, that I cannot court you.”
She huffed. “I will not then, but… This earldom was unexpected for you, Miles. You must think on the implications of all this before one of us is hurt. You m-may come to realise that such feelings that you talk of just cannot be. I could never accompany you on voyages, and if you went without me, it would break my heart; if you stayed because of me, it would break my heart also. So please, just think on it for a few days and you might see the truth of the matter.”
His gaze was still fierce but she held his storm-laden eyes, till at last he stood.
Then he bent slightly and cupped her chin. “I will return, Verity.”
Her eyes smarted. “You are an earl of consequence now, Miles. An aristocrat of the Ton. Do not forget that.”
A most un-earl-like scowl. “I wish I was still a damn soldier and if I could renounce this bloody earldom, I would.”
“No, Miles, you would not.” She gave a faint smile. “You would never abandon your estate tenants, household and labourers. You will be the best of earls.”
His head bowed low before he exhaled, straightened and headed for the door.
Verity sank back into the pillows. Exhaustion and sadness overwhelmed but with it, a sense of…lightness. For whatever may happen now, she was freed from her secrets. And she could brace herself for the inevitable moment when he came to the same realisation – that it could not be.
As Miles reached for the handle, he turned, regard unwavering.
“And by the same manner, Verity Seymour. This earl will never abandon you.” Before he quietly left the room.