Chapter 10

Andrew responded instantly and naturally. As soon as Marianne's body hit the water, he sprang up and began to move, terror firmly taking hold of him. He plunged into the shallow end of the pond, splashing water everywhere as he went. He hurried up to Marianne and saw her straining to pull herself up from the muddy bottom, her face looking surprised and dismayed at the same time.

"Marianne!" Andrew put his hands under her arms and spoke with apprehension as he stretched out to pull her to her feet. She was coughing up water that she believed she had swallowed, and her breathing was shallow and erratic.

Andrew tried to stop the tremors racking her body by telling her, "Breathe, just try to breathe slowly."

Water dripped from her garments and hair, adding weight, and Marianne shuddered from the cold and the lingering horror.

As soon as Andrew had her on shore, he did not hesitate. He threw her arm over his shoulders and wrapped one arm firmly around her waist. "We need to get you back to the house, now," he said, his jaw tightening and his tone hard.

Marianne could only nod, still struggling to breathe. Her mind raced with gratitude and embarrassment—gratitude winning out, since Andrew had reminded her to do so.

Andrew held her still, unsteady body up and led her to the house without saying anything else. The house wasn't far away, but every step emphasized the urgency of the issue. Marianne's clothes stuck to her body, so every motion she made was a cold reminder of her fall.

Andrew kept his head up as they went, scanning their path for any obstacles. His voice was always at her side, a steady murmur of, "You're doing great, just hold on a little longer," now and again.

Marianne's shock didn't dissipate as quickly as one might expect, leaving her voice hoarse and her body trembling slightly when she finally spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Andrew," she whispered. "This is not how I had anticipated our day to go."

Andrew shook his head gently, offering a reassuring smile despite the tension. "Marianne, you have nothing to apologize for. These things happen. What matters most is your safety."

As they arrived at the house, he set her down, but Marianne's steps faltered, her body still reeling from the cold. Upon entering, Andrew didn't hesitate; he guided her directly to her room. The shock of the cold day clung to her, her thoughts sluggish like the ice outside.

A fire was crackling in the hearth, its flames dancing lively and invitingly. Andrew led her to a comfortable chair by the fireplace, where the heat battled the cold seeping into her bones. He carefully settled her into the chair, her damp clothes making every movement feel more pronounced and uncomfortable.

Marianne shivered, her teeth nearly chattering as he noticed her discomfort. He left the room momentarily and returned with a large, oversized blanket which he gently draped over her shoulders.

"I appreciate it," Marianne murmured, pulling the blanket tighter around her.

She watched, still slightly dazed, as Andrew moved quietly around the room, stoking the fire to a brighter blaze. He then turned back to her, his features etched with concern, ensuring the warmth from the fire enveloped her, easing the lingering shock and cold that had settled deep within her.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low and tinged with worry.

"Much," Marianne replied, managing a small smile. She noticed the tension in his shoulders and the lines of concern that hadn't faded from his face. "Andrew, I'm all right now, truly. You can stop worrying so much."

Andrew gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. He pulled another chair close to hers and sat down, facing her. "I know you're safe now, but it was a close call, Marianne. It shook me, seeing you in the water like that."

Marianne's smile widened slightly, a touch of her usual playfulness returning as she sought to lighten the mood. "Well, I must say, you were quite the hero, rushing into the shallows to rescue me. I didn't know you had such knightly reflexes."

Her words were meant to tease, to bring a smile to his face, but Andrew didn't laugh. Instead, he looked at her intently, his eyes reflecting a serious depth.

"Marianne, when I saw you fall in, everything else just stopped. All I could think about was getting to you and ensuring you were all right. It was instinctive. I couldn't stand the thought of you being hurt."

Marianne's heart warmed at his words, touched by the sincerity and intensity of his concern. Yet, she could see the incident had affected him deeply, perhaps more than she had realized.

"Andrew," she said softly, reaching to place her hand over his, "I'm better now. I'm grateful—more than I can say. But, please, let's not dwell on the what ifs."

Andrew's gaze lingered on their hands, her fingers lightly covering his. After a moment, he nodded slowly, a deep breath escaping his lips as if he were releasing the weight of the fear he had carried.

"You're right, of course. I'm sorry for the somber mood. It's just that… today reminded me of how much I—" He paused, searching for the right words. "I thought I would lose you."

Marianne felt the heat radiate from her chest to every part of her body. His straightforward yet insightful disclosure gave her a feeling of clarity. She gave him a gentle grip on the hand, confirming the bond that had developed between them due to their common experiences.

"Andrew," she said in a confident, steady voice, "it was just an accident."

In response to her remarks, Andrew acted instinctively and quickly. He hugged her close, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

Comforted by his warmth and the rhythm of his heartbeat, Marianne relaxed into his arms. The room around them seemed to hold its breath; the crackling of the fire was the only sound. After a moment, she drew back slightly, her eyes meeting his. The fear that had momentarily clouded her features was gone, replaced by trust and openness which encouraged her to share more about herself.

"Andrew," she began, her voice softer now, laden with a vulnerability she seldom showed. "There's something I should tell you. When I was young, I almost drowned. It was a foolish accident at a pond, much like today's. Since then, I've had a deep fear of water. It's why I panicked so much."

Andrew listened intently, his eyes never leaving hers. And then the pieces fell into place, each painting a clearer picture of her distress. "Marianne, I had no idea," he murmured, his voice laced with regret. "I wish I had known sooner. I never would have suggested the boat."

She gave a small, dismissive shake of her head, her fingers tracing patterns on the fabric of his coat. "You couldn't have known, Andrew. I never told you because I didn't want to appear weak or have you tease me about it."

Andrew's heart clenched at her words. "Marianne, I would never think less of you for your fears. We all have them. How we face them matters—and you faced yours with incredible bravery today." He paused, ensuring she was following his words. "And I should have been more sensitive. I'm truly sorry for any jokes that might have made you uncomfortable."

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening slightly from the emotion of their exchange. "Thank you, Andrew. Just… thank you for being here and for understanding."

He smiled softly, his hand coming up to gently brush a damp lock of hair from her forehead. "Marianne, there's no need to express gratitude. I'm always available to you. And if and when you're ready, I would like to help you get over this fear. We could take it slowly. Nothing more shocking will happen."

Marianne was brought to tears by his offer, and her lips curled into a lovely smile. "That sounds good," she murmured, letting go of a few worries. "But maybe, for now, let's stay on dry land."

"Agreed," Andrew said, before letting out a deep, warm chuckle.

Once more, they sat with their sides rubbing against one another, a bit closer than before. Their features were illuminated by a flickering light, adding to the cozy atmosphere created by the fire's warm glow. As they stared at the leaping flames in the fireplace, a comfortable silence fell between them, each lost in thought.

Marianne felt an immediate and strong connection with Andrew, reinforced by their open communication and common experience. Their bond went beyond the superficial level of their intended engagement, touching something real and deep inside her.

Andrew's feelings for Marianne subtly deepened. Initially motivated by obligation, his regard for her had evolved into something more meaningful. He discovered a genuine concern for her emotions, worries, and well-being.

Long shadows cast by the fading fire filled the room as Andrew turned to face Marianne and spoke in a quiet, serious voice, "Marianne, know that no matter what, you have my undying support. Not just as your fiancé, but as your confidante, friend, and partner."

In the little light, Marianne turned to face him and found his hand. "Andrew, I'm here to support you. In addition to being your fiancée, I am someone who genuinely respects you, not simply for what you can do for me."

They looked at each other, and at that instant, they promised each other support, collaboration, and a shared future, no matter how uncertain. With their foreheads lightly touching, they leaned in and comforted one another.

In that quiet room, with the fire embers waning and the night deepening around them, Marianne and Andrew found solace and a deepening love.

* * *

The morning after their candid exchange by the fire, the house awoke to a delicate mist. Andrew found himself at breakfast, somewhat distracted by the previous day's events, when a maid approached him with a slight, respectful curtsy.

"Your Grace, the Dowager Countess requests your presence in her sitting room as soon as you can," the maid informed him, her voice soft yet clear in the quiet morning atmosphere.

Andrew nodded, a sense of curiosity mingling with a trace of concern. "Thank you. I'll see her shortly."

He finished his breakfast quickly, his thoughts now firmly on Tabitha. He remembered the last time he had seen her; she had seemed weaker, her energy not quite as vibrant as he had been told it once was. He pushed away from the table and headed towards her sitting room, speculating on the nature of the urgent summons.

Andrew was instantly aware of a shift in Tabitha's look as soon as he entered the room. She was sitting beside a huge window, and the warm, golden light of the early sun highlighted a faint flush on her cheeks that had not been there before.

She smiled at him, feeble but kind. "Your Grace, come in, please. Sit with me."

He saw the minor improvement in her mood and walked over to sit beside her. "Lady Hillsfolk, you look great this morning," he said sincerely.

With a louder voice today, she said, "Thank you, my dear. Thankfully, I feel a little more like myself. To my body's joy, it appears that the sun has chosen to favor us with its presence."

Andrew grinned, happy to see that she was feeling better. "I'm happy to learn that. Are you looking to talk to me about anything in particular this morning?"

With a hint of playfulness mixed with seriousness, Tabitha nodded. "Yes, Andrew, I am. I have been reflecting a lot on our previous talk. About Marianne, about you, and the events that brought you into my life now."

Andrew's expression grew more thoughtful. "I'm listening, My Lady. What's on your mind?"

She took a deep breath, her gaze turning inward as if searching for the right words. "Andrew, you and Marianne have faced many challenges, yet you both possess a strength that I deeply admire. When I see how you care for her, it reminds me of the love and devotion I once knew. It's something rare and precious."

Andrew nodded, feeling the weight of her words. "Marianne means the world to me. I would do anything to protect her and make her happy."

"I know you would," Tabitha replied, her eyes softening. "And that's why I need to speak to you. Life is unpredictable, and my health… well, we both know it's not what it used to be. I want to ensure that Marianne is cared for, that she has someone who will stand by her no matter what."

"You have my word," Andrew said firmly. "I will always be there for her."

Tabitha smiled, a tear glistening in her eye. "Thank you, Andrew. Knowing that brings me great comfort. But remember, love and support are not just about grand gestures. It's the everyday moments, the small acts of kindness, that truly matter."

"I understand," Andrew replied, feeling the depth of her wisdom. "I will cherish every moment with her."

Tabitha held the delicately carved pin steadily in front of Andrew, her face serious as she did so. With its facets catching the rays of light in a dance of light and shadow, the pin, an heirloom of obvious historical value, shimmered beneath the light filtering through the window.

"This," she said, her voice resonant with a sense of intense familial pride, "was my grandfather's pin. He was a man of dignity and bravery. He wore this pin as a representation of his morality, duty, and commitment to his family. I wish you to have it."

Andrew showed his astonishment by pausing a bit before taking the offered piece. The weight of the pin was greater than it appeared. The feeling of cool metal on his skin evoked memories of duty and the noble line that Tabitha had now extended to him.

"I-I'm honored, My Lady," Andrew stammered, feeling a mix of wonder and growing inadequacy in his heart. "However, I must admit, I'm not sure I can accept this. I don't belong in your family."

Tabitha said, "Nonsense," in a stern yet compassionate tone. "Marianne is your betrothed. In her life, you have been a source of courage and kindness. You have shown yourself to be a closer relative than many of my blood relatives," she went on, her voice softening. "This pin is now yours. It represents my faith in you, Andrew, and your position in our family."

Andrew was rendered speechless by the finality in her tone and the honesty in her gaze. He held the pin firmly, the metal getting warm to the touch—an acceptance he felt he was becoming less and less worthy of. He could only nod, unable to express the whirlwind of feelings building within him.

"I'm grateful, My Lady." With his voice hardly above a whisper, he managed to declare, "I will work to be worthy of this honor."

The pin in his pocket seemed enormous as he walked out of the room. His mind was racing with uncertainty and disarray, and his footsteps were heavy. Given the extent of Tabitha's faith and the gravity of what he had just agreed to, how could he carry on with this charade?

Later, Marianne found him in the garden, looking worried and holding the pin loosely between his fingers as he turned it over and observed its sparkle in the sunlight. She walked up to him silently, seeing the stiff set of his jaw and the wrinkle in his brow.

Reaching for his arm, she asked, "Andrew, what's wrong? You seem upset."

With his eyes blazing with agony, Andrew looked up. "I talked to your grandmother, Marianne." He showed her the pin and added, "She gave me this. She now views me as a member of your family, someone who will continue her grandfather's heritage. But given that everything here is based on a lie, how can I?"

Marianne's heart sank. She knew this moment would come—the truth testing the fragile framework of their arrangement.

"Andrew, I know this is hard. But we have important reasons for doing this, which affect us and my entire family."

"But is it right?" Andrew pressed, his voice desperate. "To accept such a role under false pretenses? What if the truth comes out? I don't want to be the cause of any more pain, especially not to your grandmother."

Marianne took a deep breath, her anxiety mirroring his. With a slight tremor in her voice, she admitted, "I'm scared too. I was worried about how the truth might affect my grandmother and apprehensive about what it might mean for us."

Andrew looked at her, the conflict evident in his gaze. "Marianne, I want to trust in what we have. But accepting this pin feels like a step beyond the boundaries we agreed upon, and I'm not sure if that's something we're ready for."

Marianne reached out and took his hands in her own, her grip firm yet urgent. "Please, stay, for my grandmother's sake," she implored, her voice tinged with desperation rather than sentiment. "We don't have to make this more than it is. Let's just manage this arrangement together for now. That's all I'm asking. We will find a way for you to return that pin to Grandmother."

With a beseeching expression, she gazed up at him and down at the pin that was pressed between their palms.

Andrew sighed heavily and nodded slowly.

They remained there for some time, steadfast in their determination. The lush, vibrant garden surrounding them was a sharp contrast to the storm of uncertainties and anxieties inside them.