Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

“ N o,” Elizabeth said, barely knowing what she was doing. Her mouth was moving before she could think things through. It was something she was completely unused to and she did not know what would happen next.

She looked at her husband, standing next to her and aligned against his own family and then she looked at his siblings, Herbert and Selina, resentful, rebellious, angry.

This was a kind house before she had come to it. A house of laughter and friendship. It felt wrong on a level that seeped to her bones that the family should be split because of her. It felt like something that her father would laugh over.

Squaring her shoulders she stepped away from Stephen and towards Herbert and Selina, noticing their wary expressions. “They do not have to respect me, Stephen. I haven’t earned their respect. I did not mean to cause offense but I see that I have, and there can be no healing of wounds with no acknowledgement that they exist.”

She took a breath, her heart thudding in her chest. It was hard to be open and vulnerable, to risk mockery and disdain. She was scared, she was hurt and angry. She hated her own family in that moment, hated how they cursed her every footstep. Her future was tarred because of the name she had been born into and it didn’t seem fair.

“We don’t speak about the feud,” she said slowly. “I think that’s a mistake. We all know that the reason our marriage even happened was to bring a unity between the Wilkins and Barnes families, but no one has acknowledged that in recent years one family has suffered more than the other.”

Even Selina said nothing. Everyone was looking at her and the silence was so deep that it felt as though the earth beneath the estate was listening too. The sky was clear and blue above, the wind had died down and there were no servants coming out to greet them or bother them.

Elizabeth was aware, sudden and painful, of how small she was in the face of this ancient blood-shed, the wars that stretched back centuries. She didn’t feel like she was a part of it. She had no ill-will towards the Wilkins family because the Barnes family had never made her feel like she belonged to them.

She had no nightmares from fearing her brother or father might not return, no trauma wondering when the next upset might come or from fearing she might lose another loved one at any time.

But even though she had never seen these people as her blood enemy, that was not how they saw her. To them she was a reminder of everything that had been done to them, someone who meant them ill-will, perhaps even harm.

It struck her through the heart and gave her the strength to keep speaking. “I cannot fix the wounds that my family has dealt to yours with an apology. It would be futile to believe that my words could begin to match the harm that you have suffered, but in good conscience I cannot be silent and I must speak from my heart. My family has killed those you love, taken family from you before their time and pursued you with duels and insults no matter where you go. It is cruel and abominable what they have done. I have no excuses, no understanding for why, no pride in their actions. I am sorry for the way that they have hurt you. I wish I did not constantly remind you of what you have lost.”

Everyone was still staring at her, but they no longer looked as though they were preparing to battle each other. Herbert looked wary but surprised, while Selina looked as though she were considering Elizabeth’s words very carefully.

Elizabeth did not dare look back to see what Stephen looked like, not until she was done. She was not sure she could finish if she saw that he disapproved of her speaking out when he was trying to take control of the situation.

“I would like to be friendly with you all. I have longed for it, in fact. I am not very sure what to do at so merry a table, so I ask that you forgive my reticence. I will try to better meet your friendship with my own, if you will let me.”

Selina dashed forwards and took her hands in her own, her face serious but a softening in her expression. “You shame me with your sincerity. Let us both turn over new leaves and try to forge a new path.”

“Well said, Selina,” Herbert added, nodding to Elizabeth from where he was standing. While Selina looked to Elizabeth to be far less hostile, there was still a coolness to Herbert, a wariness that she feared she would never break through. “We can all try out this peace thing going forwards I think. Like Stephen has been telling us to.”

Elizabeth glanced back to Stephen, worried that she would find she had once again misstepped in her attempts to be the wife that he expected. He was looking at her intently, his eyes sharp and assessing but there was no anger in his face.

“Now you have come to your senses, both of you go inside,” he said to Herbert and Selina. “I will speak with my wife alone.”

Selina squeezed Elizabeth’s hands once more and went to Herbert who escorted her inside, their heads tipped together in deep conversation. Elizabeth felt a pang, watching them go. What would it be like to have that sort of closeness with a person one could trust so whole-heartedly?

Stephen could not deny that his temper had been well and truly roused against his brother and sister by their blatant disregard of his command. While he knew that Selina was forthright to a point that sometimes did her harm, he had not expected Herbert to encourage her.

Perhaps he should have done so.

As he had been preparing to go to battle for the peace he had fought so hard to attain, Elizabeth had completely surprised him by doing so herself and in a manner he could never have expected.

There was something entrancing about the way that she opened her heart to them, even when they were accusing her, standing in hostile judgment of her. He was caught completely out of himself by watching her beautiful, expressive face, listening to her address the problem with as much bravery and honesty as any soldier.

It was enough to win over the hardest of hearts, and he was pleased to see that both Herbert and Selina had softened by the end of her speech though he would be having stern words with both of them later. While he loved them dearly, and loved how well they defended each other, he required trust from his siblings and when he gave them an instruction he expected them to obey. If they had a concern with those instructions they should have come to him, not lashed out publicly the way Selina had.

Elizabeth was looking at him now, her large dark eyes so expressive in her pale face. He was struck again how sometimes she looked like a wild bird, something regal and fierce like a falcon, watching a predator and waiting to take flight.

“Walk with me,” he said solemnly, offering her his arm.

She took it without argument for once and they turned their steps towards a path into the gardens. It was a small, cunning water garden near a flight of steps up to some lovely terraces and he had often played there as a child, jumping from one tier of the fountain to the next or falling into the pools in an attempt to catch hold of the fish that played there.

“I am glad to see that you know why my family is cautious to trust you,” he said finally, not mentioning his own reserve when it came to the matter. “I applaud your forthrightness. It was needed, I think.”

“The wound had to be lanced,” she said firmly. “It would just keep festering otherwise.”

“I think you are right. And I am glad also to see that you don’t have the same - bloodlust that your family does.”

“Wouldn’t that be rather inconvenient a thing to exist between husband and wife?” she asked, her lips twitching upwards a little.

He returned the small smile. “It’s not completely unheard of.”

“I am glad to assure Your Grace, that I have no desire for violence at all. Just for peace. Like you do.”

Her voice slowed towards the end of the sentence, as though there were things that she was not saying. There were mysteries to his wife that he did not understand, but instead of frustrating him they only made her all the more enticing. He wanted to unwrap her thoughts, unwrap her past and unwrap her body, to get to know why she was so small and cold and quiet sometimes and so fierce and sharp the others.

Stephen paused near the fountain, holding Elizabeth by one hand. The light always felt clearer here near the water, like he could see things more distinctly. He looked into her eyes and saw the caramel gold in their depths, the warm shifting colors like a maze of riches.

“You are truly beautiful,” he said softly, and was pleased to see her blush and try to look away. “No,” he said, catching her chin and tilting her head up so she had to look at him. “don’t hide your eyes from me, Elizabeth. I intend to have my fill of looking into them.”

“Pretty words, my husband,” she said, looking up at him again. This time he could tell that her wit was a tool that she was using to hide how flustered he was making her, and they had no bite.

He wanted to pull her into his arms in the shattered light through the fountain spray and kiss her, tangle his fingers in her hair, undo her and carry her off to his bed where she should be. But he had given his word, and while he might not have told her so, he was truly in no hurry to do something that she might not like.

Elizabeth felt her heartbeat thudding in her chest. There was a sort of thick tension between her and Stephen, like invisible energy binding them together. They were standing so close, hand in hand and he was leaning over above her so he could look at her.

Perhaps he really was trying to look into her eyes.

They were so close, his head ducking down near to her now and she remember the frisson of delicious heat that she had felt that night when he claimed her in a kiss that felt like he was consuming her with passion and flames.

Maybe he would kiss her again in the garden with the sound of the fountain in their ears and the air heady with the smell of blossoms. Her eyes fluttered closed and she felt her body leaning upwards towards him, her face tipping back and her lips sliding open.

She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel his mouth on her again. Why did he affect her like this? These were such strange, terrible, wonderful desires. She felt alive with them, a warmth tingling through her like she was drunk with it.

She could feel the warmth of him getting closer, their lips must surely be only inches apart now, she could feel his breath upon her lips. Close and nearly and please just a little more…

“You know what to do if you want me, Elizabeth,” Stephen whispered, holding her chin in his hand and pinning her still. “All you need to do is beg.”

She swallowed hard, her eyes flying open. He looked amused, smug but also his eyes were dark with want as well. She was not the only one here who desired.

“I have been told that to beg is quite below my station, Your Grace,” she said, huskily. Her breathing was ragged and she had to wet her lips but he was watching her, and she was almost certain that she could see him quiver a little at the sight.

He quickly got himself back under control and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “As you wish, wife,” he said. “We will see how long that lasts.”