Chapter Twenty-One

The roar of the enemy swelled and Arthur's heart slammed so hard against his chest, it felt as though it left bruises behind. Panic grew as he gripped his weapon, ready to take to his heels and fight should it be demanded of him.

Sweat broke across his forehead and he snatched in air, feeling even that stolen away from him by the fear in his mind and the dread in his heart. Looking from his left to his right, he took in the expressions of the men beside him, the men who would fight with him and maybe even die with him. This was what he had determined he would do, what he had said he would give of himself and yet the fear of it all still took a hold of him.

"What has happened to you?"

A faint voice spoke and Arthur turned his head, horrified to see none other than Abigail standing beside him. Her eyes were wide, her face filled with terror and from his throat came a guttural sound.

"It is all right." A soft smile began to spread across her face, stealing away her fear and instead, replacing it with a gentle hope though Arthur could not understand where it came from. "I am here."

"Why are you here?" A rasping, broken voice spoke those words and Arthur reached out for her, only to see that she was no longer there. Turning his head this way and that, he looked desperately for her, fear mounting up so greatly, it practically choked him.

"I am here, Crestwood." Her voice came to him again, though more distant this time and Arthur turned his head, only to see Abigail walking away from him, walking backwards but towards the enemy.

"Abigail!" Reaching for her, he tried to move, tried to run but nothing did as he asked. He seemed to be fixed in place, held back by an unseen force and as Abigail continued to move away, still making her way to the enemy line, Arthur's heart tore in an explosion of feeling and fright. He screamed her name, knowing what was coming, knowing that she would not be free from injury and from death and seeing his future laid out for him as nothing more than darkness, deeper and blacker than he had ever experienced before since she would not be in his.

"Crestwood, I am here! I am here with you."

Something pressed at his fingers and he looked down at his hand, only to blink furiously and realize, with agonizing slowness, that it had been nothing more than a dream.

Still breathing furiously, he looked all about him, trying to take in his surroundings, trying to come to terms with the realization that Abigail had not been on the battlefield, that he had not returned to war and there was nothing now for him to fear.

"It is all right," she murmured, softly, his eyes drawing back to her, his fingers tightening on hers so that he was almost clinging to her, his breathing still ragged as her soft, green eyes smiled back into his. "You are quite safe here."

"Abigail." Trying to reach out his other hand to her, Arthur found himself a little surprised at the weakness in his frame.

"Rest." A faint shimmer came into her eyes though her smile lingered. "You were unwell and I have been concerned for you."

Arthur closed his eyes again, recalling how he had ridden through the fierce rain and wind which had come upon him unexpectedly – but how he had been so determined to get to Abigail, he had not given the weather even a moment's thought. "I had to speak with you."

"We can talk about such things later," she said, quietly. "Now, all you must do is continue to recover."

"Captain Harrington?" His eyes flew open as he looked back at her. "Is he – "

"He is quite well and without injury," came the reply, flooding him with relief. "You were a little reckless, Crestwood." Her voice softened with tenderness and Arthur's heart leapt with relief. Might he hope that she had not rejected him? "You should have waited for the storm to pass."

"I could not." His voice was still rasping but he held on to her hand as tightly as he could and gazed up into her face. "I had to see you. I had to speak with you so you might understand – and so that I might apologise."

With her other hand, she reached out and ran her fingers lightly across his cheek. "My dear Crestwood, I understand now. I am sorry I ran from your house without speaking to you but my heart was broken. I believed that Lady Clara had managed to find her way back into your heart but the Captain has explained all to me."

Arthur closed his eyes briefly. "I was foolish. I should not have allowed myself to be convinced that you were gone to rest and nor should I have agreed to step out with Lady Clara. Her words were convincing and I did not believe for a single moment that she was seeking to regain her connection with me. I thought… I thought her mother was the one pushing for such a thing and Lady Clara was only highly embarrassed by her actions. How foolish I was!"

"But it is at an end now." With a small smile, Miss Townsend pressed her hand to his cheek again and then let out a slow breath. "It is all at an end. The confusion, the doubt, the uncertainty… it has all faded. All that is left now is complete clarity and, with that, hope. "

"Hope?"

She nodded though her cheeks warmed. "Hope that I might be able to tell you all that I feel and that, in doing so, there might be even the smallest hint of a returned affection."

Unable to remain lying down, Arthur pushed himself up though Miss Townsend protested immediately. Determined despite the weakness in his body, he eventually sat back against the pillows and looked into her eyes, finding her hand again so he might take it in his own. "You need not have any fear in that regard, Abigail," he said, softly. I came here as fast as I could, I came here with dread in my heart that you had set yourself against me now, because of what Lady Clara had tried to do – and what my own foolishness led me to do."

Miss Townsend let out a slow breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Arthur was alarmed to see tears there, though she smiled quickly as if to reassure him.

"My dear Crestwood, when we were first introduced and when I first found out what my father intended for me, I was filled with so much dread, I could barely even think of my future without sorrow. The more we began to speak, however, the more we discovered of each other, the less that sorrow and fear became – to the point that my heart began to feel more for you than I had ever anticipated." Leaning closer, she lifted her hand to his cheek again. "Crestwood, I have come to care for you. My heart has a growing and steady affection for you that I cannot hide from any longer. When I thought that you were drawn again to Lady Clara, my heart tore with so much pain, it was almost too much to bear. As I travelled home, I realised then just how deep my affection for you had become. The truth is, Crestwood, that I love you dearly. To me, you are no beast. You are the courageous, kind, open-hearted gentleman that has claimed my heart."

Arthur's throat had constricted so tightly, it took him a few moments to respond. Never had he felt as he did at this moment. There was nothing but light everywhere, nothing but joy and happiness running wildly through him and, had he the strength, Arthur was sure he would have crushed Miss Townsend to himself.

"I am only open-hearted because of you, Abigail." Lifting his hand, he settled it against hers as she rested it against his scarred cheek. "You have brought that out of me, have encouraged me to step out of the darkness and to see myself in a way which I never expected to again. Had it not been for you, for your kindness, your willingness to pursue me, to defend me and to come alongside me, I am certain that I would have continued to push away all that I felt."

"But you are not doing so now. "

He shook his head. "No, I am doing nothing of the sort now, Abigail, not when it comes to you. My heart is filled with an affection for you which is utterly overwhelming. It fills every part of me, burns through me and makes my life brighter in every way. You say that you love me, Abigail, and I feel as though I do not deserve such a gift."

She smiled at him, leaning closer still so that the sweet scent of lavender clouded his senses. "You deserve it all and a good deal more, Crestwood."

"I shall never be convinced of it," he answered, though she laughed softly at his response, "but I do love you, Abigail. And I promise you that I always shall."

Quite who it was who moved first, Arthur did not know but one moment he was looking into Miss Townsend's eyes and the next, he was kissing her. It was soft and sweet and unlike anything he had ever known before. He had cared for Lady Clara, he realized, but he had not loved her, not in the way he loved Abigail. She had brought him out of the darkness, taken him out from himself and had forced him to be in the light – and what a light it was! It brought him beauty and joy and happiness to such an extent, it felt as if he were entirely filled with sunlight.

"I do not think I have ever been as happy as I am at this moment," he murmured against her lips, knowing that he had to break the kiss given that they might be joined by anyone from her family at any moment. "That is all thanks to you, my darling Abigail."

Her eyes twinkled as she pulled back from him, though her fingers still laced through his. "I think I should continue to plan our wedding then, given that you are well on your way to recovery."

Arthur chuckled and pressed her fingers. "I am delighted to hear you say so, for I cannot think of anything I want more than to stand up in church and take you as my bride."

She pressed one hand to her heart, her eyes filled with the love she had spoken of. Love that was held solely for him. "And I want nothing more than to be your wife, Crestwood. The sooner we can marry, the happier I shall be. I love you."

"And I love you."