Chapter One

Everything feels numb .

The thought whispered through Bridget's mind as she gazed listlessly through the window of her father's carriage, watching the world pass her by. She recalled a time when she had been fond of such rides, when she'd enjoyed the sound of wheels crunching over stones and the gentle breeze generated by the carriage's passage over the country roads. But that was a simpler time, before she was thrown into the jaws of fate and came out limping.

She sighed.

"That is the fifth time."

Bridget slid her eyes to her father sitting across from her and then back out the window. "What do you mean?" she asked softly, her voice carrying very little inflection.

Lord Frank Kendall, Baron Kendall, looked up from the book he had been reading. How he'd gone three hours with his nose buried between the pages was a mystery to Bridget. She couldn't imagine doing such a thing without getting sick.

"You have sighed five times in the past," he fished out his pocket watch, "ten minutes."

"So?"

"So?" he echoed. "Is something the matter?"

"Not at all, Father," she answered, repeating the same words she had said at least three times a week. That and " I'm perfectly well " was all that filled her vocabulary lately.

Her father simply stared at her. Bridget shifted uncomfortably. She did not like being perceived and Frank always had a disconcerting manner in which he stared at someone. As if he knew their deepest darkest secrets.

Though she supposed her darkest secrets were not so deep, considering the fact that evidence of it was carved into her face.

"I think Elizabeth is quite excited that we will be visiting early prior to her summer party. She continues to send me letter after letter expressing all the ways in which she intends to make us feel welcome."

Bridget didn't want to hear about this right now. She enjoyed staying in her head instead. But she could not turn her father away when he was trying to make conversation so she said, "What ways did she say?"

"Well, she will take us to the creek on her estate," Frank continued, setting his book aside. "And to the village nearby as well."

"Sounds delightful."

"It most certainly does, though I cannot help but wonder if she intends for us to rest at all during our time with her."

"You know how overexcited Elizabeth can get."

"Yes, she reminds me of you." There was a smile in Frank's voice. "Quite full of life."

Bridget knew what he was trying to do and she wasn't in the mood for it. Then again, she hadn't been in the mood for much lately.

It was much better when she wasn't expected to smile and pretend as if she was fine, as if she didn't have a cloud hanging over her head. She could stay in her chambers—or in her drawing room if she felt for a change of environment—and practice her embroidery until her fingers grew cramped and her mind numb. The last thing Bridget wanted to do was be a part of society again.

At least she wasn't being pressured to do so in London. Heaven knew what she would have done if her father had asked her to attend a ball during the height of the London Season.

"I am looking forward to it," she murmured. "It has been some time since I've spent time with Elizabeth."

"I am certain she feels the same."

Bridget said nothing, expecting her father to pick up his book but he only crossed his fingers and began again.

"Pray tell, Bridget, what are your sentiments regarding your absence for the remainder of the Season?" he inquired. "I trust you must find some pleasure in being away. In your younger days, you would often express a preference for our countryside estate over the bustling society of London."

"My preference has not changed," she said softly.

"Ah, that is precisely what I wish to hear. Perhaps this sojourn with your cousin and her husband shall prove beneficial for your spirits."

He sounded so pleased at that thought that Bridget didn't have the heart to respond to him. Anything she dared to say now would only put a damper on his spirits and she would much prefer that one of them maintained a somber demeanor rather than both indulging in such despondency. She hadn't been fine for so long that she doubted some time away from London would be enough to cure her ailment.

"Oh, it seems we've almost arrived," her father went on, peering out the window.

Bridget straightened, relief flooding her. She didn't know how much longer she could handle trying to maintain small talk with her father. Though, as the sprawling driveway to Elderwood Estate came into view, she grew anxious knowing that she would have to put on a better front before Elizabeth.

The carriage suddenly jerked to the side as it began turning into the driveway. The sudden movement sent Bridget against the carriage door, pain shooting up her side.

"Oh dear," she heard her father say. "We must have gone over a rather large stone."

Bridget nodded mutely, a lump forming in her throat. The pain subsided within seconds, but the memories it dragged up were enough to send her mind spiraling. All she could think of was that fateful day three years ago—the day her life turned for the worst.

A rainy night. A broken wheel. And blood. So much blood.

Bridget shuddered, trying to shake off the memories assaulting her but it wasn't enough to block the sight of a pair of deep green eyes growing dull.

"Marvelous structure, is it not?" her father spoke again.

Bridget blinked back the tears gathering in her eyes and nodded, barely glancing out the window. "It is quite nice."

"Quite nice, she says," Frank huffed, sounding amused. "Ah, and of course, Elizabeth is already out here to greet us."

She couldn't do this. She couldn't face her cousin and pretend as if all was well when it felt as if she was reliving that night all over again.

Bridget bit her bottom lip, mustering all the strength she had to face the world around her. The moment the carriage came to a halt, she raised her chin.

One of Elizabeth's footmen opened the door. Fresh air rushed into the small carriage space, clearing Bridget's mind a bit. She accepted the hand of the footman and allowed him to help her out of the carriage. She'd barely set two feet on the ground before someone came barreling into her, smelling like citrus, sunshine, and fresh dirt.

"Oh, Bridget, it's been too long!" Elizabeth squealed.

Despite her despondency, despite the horrible memories still playing in the back of her mind, Bridget could not help the small smile that touched her lips. Her arms lifted to embrace Elizabeth lightly.

"Three years, I believe?" Bridget asked. "Since you have taken up the mantle of marchioness, I have not laid eyes upon you nor detected any trace of your presence."

"And I shan't make a habit of it any longer." Elizabeth pulled away, grinning from ear to ear. She was still the same beauty Bridget remembered her to be. Her blond hair was curled around her face, most of it tucked into a chignon at the back of her head. She had large, blue eyes that were always lit with happiness and laughter. Elizabeth Fairmont had always been a ray of sunshine in every room she entered and it made Bridget feel especially shadowed.

Her smile felt a little bit more forced as she said, "Thank you for the invitation, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's smile, as impossible as it seemed, grew wider. Before she could respond, Frank's voice sounded behind Bridget.

"Pray, shall I not receive a warm embrace?" he inquired.

"Uncle Frank!" Elizabeth squealed and threw her arms around Bridget's father. "Oh heavens, I think you may be aging backward."

"And I think it may be time for you to get a pair of spectacles," Frank said with a chuckle.

"Oh, come now, dear uncle. You are as dashing as ever, just as I remember from my wedding, if memory serves me aright."

"It does," Frank confirmed. "Speaking of your wedding, where is your husband? Shall he not extend his greetings to us as well?"

***

"He is currently in a meeting with his steward. Something about the tenants, he says." Elizabeth shrugged. "I shall tell him that you two have arrived. In the meantime, let us make our way inside, shall we?"

She was by Bridget's side in a second, looping her arm through hers. Bridget was helpless as she was steered towards the door.

Her father was right. Elderwood Estate was certainly magnificent. As Bridget drew closer, she began taking the sheer size of the sprawling building, white brick and green trellis combined seamlessly for a luxurious look.

The foyer they entered was sizeable, a gargantuan chandelier hanging directly above their heads. Bridget was still taking in the ornate paintings hung to the sides when Elizabeth tugged her towards the left.

"Let us rest in the drawing room," she said. "I shall ring for tea while your luggage is brought to your chambers."

"Such a gracious host you have become," Frank said from behind. "It is heartwarming to see you settle in as mistress of this household. I cannot believe this is the same girl who would try to braid my hair in her youth."

"I can always braid it now if you wish," Elizabeth said with a laugh. "Though it is a bit shorter than I remember it to be."

They both laughed heartily at that and Bridget's lips twitched. Elizabeth released Bridget's arm as she flounced into the drawing room, immediately pulling on the rope near the door. Bridget followed her father to one of the matching sofas in the center of the room. She watched as her cousin flitted around the room, righting things that didn't look out of place, before she came to sit before them.

"It has been so long!" Elizabeth said again. And then her eyes landed on Bridget, the smile slipping slightly.

Bridget couldn't meet her eyes. She knew what Elizabeth was thinking. Anyone who hadn't seen her since the accident three years ago would think the same thing. She was not the same Bridget she'd known before she became Marchioness of Elderwood. That Bridget did not have a constant look of sadness behind her eyes. That Bridget did not shy away from conversation, her mind constantly remaining in the past. And that Bridget certainly did not have a horrid scar adorning the left side of her face near her ear, partially hidden by her hair.

If Elizabeth thought Bridget's new appearance was odd, she did not make it too obvious. The wrinkle between her brows smoothed away almost instantly as she smiled again.

"Please, tell me everything I have missed," Elizabeth began and it took everything in Bridget not to burst into tears.

What hadn't she missed? It felt as if the moment Elizabeth left for her honeymoon and began residing at Elderwood Estate, Bridget's life had been turned upside down. Meeting new people, falling in love, and having that love of her life ripped cruelly away from her to leave her as nothing but a lifeless husk.

If any of those thoughts crossed her father's mind, he made no indication. He grinned and said, "Well, where shall I begin?"

"From the very beginning," Elizabeth urged excitedly.

There really wasn't much to say that didn't involve what happened to Bridget, Bridget realized. She listened silently as her father recounted all the minor happenings occurring in London since Elizabeth retired to the countryside, grateful for the tea that arrived a short while later. It gave her something to do with her hands while she listened and prayed that Elizabeth would not soon turn her questionings to her.

But her spirited cousin must have noticed Bridget's unwillingness to partake in the conversation.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Elizabeth said suddenly, her spine straightening. "Did I tell you all that the upcoming party is themed? The theme is flowers."

"No, I'm don't believe it was mentioned in the invitation," Frank responded with a frown.

Elizabeth pouted. "Oh, heavens, I must send the word out before the other guests begin to arrive. I have always dreamed of throwing a large, lavish themed party so I shan't let this slip through my fingers. It should not be a problem, should it, Bridget?"

Bridget blinked, pulling her thoughts from the dark corner they had been sequestering in. "Pardon?"

"The theme. It should not be an issue, should it?"

"I…" Bridget glanced helplessly at her father. She hadn't been listening for the past few minutes. "I cannot see why it should."

"Perfect! Then you have a dress?"

Bridget tried to keep her face from crumpling in confusion. "I have many dresses…"

"I'm afraid Bridget's mind must have been wandering during that bit in the conversation," Frank spoke up with a laugh. He fixed his blue eyes on his daughter. "The theme is flowers."

"Indeed, I shall endeavour to articulate my sentiments with greater creativity, though that is the essence of my meaning," Elizabeth elucidated. "So, Bridget? Do you?"

Bridget didn't even have a clue what items of clothing were packed away in her trunks. She'd left it in the hands of her lady's maid.

"I'm not sure—"

"You're not sure?" Elizabeth gasped. "Well, this certainly cannot do! We should go shopping. I shall have a carriage ready—"

"Perhaps we could do that another day," Bridget said quickly. Her heart began to sink when she saw that her words were falling on deaf ears.

"This is perfect!" Elizabeth gushed, getting to her feet. "This will give me the chance to show you around the village. It is rather quaint, you see. I do believe you will enjoy it. Perhaps we will have enough time to rest at a tea shop I have grown rather fond of."

Cold sweat washed the back of Bridget's neck. She opened her mouth, a protest ripe on the tip of her tongue, but nothing came forth. Elizabeth was already setting her teacup down, that familiar look of determination in her eyes. There was nothing she could do to stop this from happening, Bridget knew.

Going to the village was the last thing she wanted to do. Becoming the center of attention as everyone ogled her scar and whispered about her behind her back? Her heart began to race at the very thought!

"Fetch your parasol, Bridget," Elizabeth continued, oblivious to Bridget's dilemma. "It is rather sunny outdoors."

At that moment, the doors opened and Elizabeth's handsome husband, the Marquess of Elderwood, strolled in with a frown. "Parasol?" he echoed. "Are you leaving already?"

"Henry!" Elizabeth flew over to him, all but launching herself into his arms. It might have been a warm sight had Bridget been able to get rid of that lump stuck in her throat.

"Good day, my love," Henry greeted, pulling Elizabeth close enough to kiss her on her cheek. Standing next to each other, they were quite a dashing picture. They were both fair-haired beauties with blue eyes with statures that complemented each other nicely. During Elizabeth's first Season, she'd been dubbed the Season's diamond, breaking the hearts of many longing potential suitors after she'd been stolen away by the marquess. The well-sought after love match.

Bridget had never envied them until now.

"Is your meeting over?" Elizabeth asked him.

"Yes, and just in time, I thought," Henry responded before turning welcoming eyes to Bridget and Frank. "Do tell me I did not arrive too late to welcome you to our home."

"It is never too late for that, my lord," Frank said with an easy laugh.

"Please, we are family. Call me Henry."

"By all means, Henry. Elizabeth here was just suggesting that she and Bridget go shopping in the village."

Henry's thick brows raised and that lump in Bridget's throat threatened to cut off her breathing altogether. "Well, isn't that a sound idea."

"Isn't it?" Elizabeth agreed excitedly.

"I do agree," Frank went on with a nod. "But perhaps we should retire to our chambers and rest a while. After that long and tiresome trip, I am not sure if Bridget will have the strength to partake in such activities, though she seems too kind to say so."

Elizabeth's eyes went wide. "Oh, dear, I am a terrible hostess! How could I have forgotten the trip you've just endured? Bridget, forgive me for being so inconsiderate."

Bridget couldn't manage the smile she tried forcing to her face but she found the strength to say, "There is no need to apologise."

"Heavens, you must be exhausted," Elizabeth went on. "You sound nothing like the spirited Bridget I know. How could I have been so blind?"

"You are just excited, my dear," Henry consoled her. He patted her hand gently. "Perhaps my company will serve while our guests rest?"

The remorse on Elizabeth's face melted with her smile. "I suppose it will have to suffice."

Bridget couldn't handle anymore. She got to her feet, putting her shaking fingers behind her. "Thank you for the tea, Elizabeth. If you will excuse me…"

Without waiting for a response, she ducked her head and headed out of the drawing room. The eyes that followed her out made her face grow red but she didn't stop. She had to get out. She had to be alone.

The moment she was out the door, she was greeted by the butler. He opened his mouth to say something but, perhaps it had something to do with the startled look on her face, said nothing. He only gestured with a sweep of his arm for her to follow him then turned and walked away.

Bridget did so silently, happy that the butler did not attempt to make conversation. She trailed up the steps behind him and let him lead her to her chambers. She gave him a wordless nod of thanks and he returned it before leaving her in silence.

Bridget savored the moment before heading into the bedchamber. She heard the slight commotion on the other side and knew that her lady's maid was still unpacking her things. Being alone, even if it was for a few seconds, had quickly become one of her favorite things in the past three years.

She went inside after a few moments of solitude and found Mary standing by the armoire, organizing her jewelry. Mary's face lit with a smile at the sight of her.

"Have you completed your discourse with Lady Elderwood, Miss? she asked warmly.

Bridget nodded, tugging off her gloves. She sank into the closest chaise lounge to her. "Yes, though I was afraid I would not be able to get away."

Mary's smile slipped. "Was it not comfortable?"

"Nothing has been comfortable as of late, Mary," Bridget sighed. She closed her eyes, wincing at her own words. She didn't like sounding so morose and yet it had been her default as of late.

"You must be tired, Miss," Mary went on as if she'd said nothing out of sorts. "I am nearly finished unpacking your belongings. Would you care to indulge in a brief rest?"

Bridget didn't open her eyes, simply shaking her head because she knew that Mary was watching her.

"Embroidery then," Mary concluded.

"You know me too well, Mary."

"More than you know yourself, perhaps."

Bridget opened her eyes at that and was surprised to see Mary already standing before her with her recent embroidery project held out to her. Bridget accepted it with a brief grateful smile.

Mary nodded with her own smile and then went back to her task. Bridget fell into the comfortable practice of her embroidery, watching the image of a rose come to life. Her mind, however, was miles away.

"Do you think it will get easier, Mary?" she asked after a long moment.

Mary was silent at first and Bridget wondered if she had not heard. She had no intention of repeating the question however.

But then Mary said, "It will. As impossible as it feels right now, one day you will wake up and find a smile comes easier to your lips and the ache of the past is no longer weighing down on you."

She'd heard those words before. And had been waiting for that moment every day since the accident.

"I hope you're right," she said after a moment.

Because she couldn't continue like this. She couldn't keep going through life only half present, forgetting her true purpose. She couldn't watch the people she loved witness her slow deterioration. She wanted to love herself though, even with the scar on her face.

Right now, such a thing felt impossible.