Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T he next four days unfolded in a steady, comforting rhythm that Daniel hadn't realized he craved. Each morning, he corresponded with fellow soldiers and the families of those he had served with—writing letters of condolence, sharing stories of bravery, and sending money to those in need. It was a quiet duty he had taken upon himself since returning, a way to stay connected to those who understood the weight of their shared past.

But in the afternoons, he spent his time with Miss Montrose. They rode together through the countryside; the horses moving in sync as easily as their conversation flowed. The routine felt less like an obligation and more like a gentle escape, each ride an opportunity to let the heaviness of his memories lift, even if only for a short while .

They spent hours in their gardens, working side by side. Miss Montrose taught him about the delicate balance of soil, sunlight, and care that each plant required. Her passion was infectious, and Daniel took a genuine interest in the small green sprouts that lined his garden beds. He had started to understand why she found such peace nurturing life, a stark contrast to the destruction he had known for so long.

In the late afternoons, they often walked along the shore, the soft sand cool beneath their feet as they gathered driftwood, chatting about everything and nothing. Miss Montrose had a way of making the mundane feel significant—her laughter light and bright, her insights both simple and profound. Daniel felt a sense of ease in her presence, as if the constant weight he carried had been set down, if only for a moment.

He found himself looking forward to each day with a kind of anticipation that surprised him. Her company was like a balm, soothing the raw edges of his soul and reminding him that there was still beauty and warmth to be found in the world.

But on the fourth night, the shadows crept back in. Daniel woke with a start, his heart racing, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The nightmare had been vivid—the sounds of battle, the cries of his men, the searing pain of shrapnel tearing through his skin. He ran a hand over his face, trying to shake off the lingering terror, but the images clung to him like smoke .

He glanced at the clock. It was not quite ten o'clock. Still much too early to start a sleepless night, but sleep felt impossible. He pulled on his breeches and boots. His linen shirt was open at the neck, but being in his shirt-sleeves wasn't a crime. Besides, no one would see him, and he couldn't bear the idea of putting on anything more restricting. He quietly made his way out of Blackwood Manor, the cool night air a welcome reprieve from the suffocating weight of his thoughts. He walked down to the shore, the familiar rhythm of the waves a steady backdrop to the turmoil in his mind. The crash of the waves usually calmed him, but tonight, even the familiar sound couldn't quite shake the images that haunted him.

Walking on the beach, under the moonlight's silver glow, he became aware of footsteps trailing behind him. He turned, his heart easing slightly when he saw Miss Montrose approaching, her expression concerned but gentle. She pulled her shawl around her soft blue dressing gown, her hair mostly cascading down her head. She looked like an angel.

"Captain Blackwood," she greeted softly, her voice carrying a note of quiet understanding. "It's quite late for a stroll. Does sleep elude you?"

Daniel offered her a small, wry smile, trying to mask the remnants of his unease. "Something like that. I didn't mean to disturb you."

She shook her head, her gaze steady. "You didn't. I was just finishing a letter when I saw you from my window." She paused, studying him with a careful eye. "Are you all right?"

Daniel hesitated, the truth on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down. He wasn't ready to share the darkness that sometimes crept into his nights—the memories that refused to stay buried. Instead, he shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. "It's the same nightmare each time. I thought a walk with some fresh air might clear my mind."

Miss Montrose seemed to sense his reluctance to delve deeper. "May I join you?"

He nodded, and held out his arm, as if he were escorting her somewhere grand, instead of where they were on the shores. They paraded down the shore for some time in silence.

"Would you like to tell me about it? I'm an excellent listener." She kept her gaze forward, unassuming.

"I should hate to add such demons into your mind."

She squeezed his arms. "I am happy to help you, Captain. You say it's always the same one?"

"More or less." He sighed. Despite the beauty of the moonlit shore, his mind was still tangled in the remnants of his nightmare, the echoes of battle haunting the edges of his thoughts. But Miss Montrose's presence was a welcome balm—her easy grace and gentleness were a lifeline he hadn't realized he needed. He didn't want her to be scarred by what he'd seen, and yet, she had offered.

He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. " In my dream, I am given bad information by a spy who turns out to be a traitor. We're ambushed and outnumbered. The evening is so foggy, and the gun smoke is blinding. I made a poor choice. I want to be able to blame the spy, but I'm the Captain, and I made a mistake. Half of my men are already dead, several have retreated, and I am trying to find my friends on the battlefield. I can't make it to them in time. I'm hit with shrapnel and a bayonet at the same time. Everything burns inside me. I hear my friends crying for me through the gun smoke, but I can't see which way to go. I try several paths and I'm wrong at each turn. There's a stabbing pain in my leg, and when I finally find my friends—I am too late. I can't move anymore, and as I try to remove their bodies from the field, I'm trapped."

Miss Montrose was silent for several moments. "That's very heavy, Captain. Did those things happen, or do they only live in your head?"

"All the worst parts happened, Miss Montrose." His forearms flexed underneath her fingers. Why had he shared such things with her?

"Thank you for telling me," she said softly.

"I shouldn't have."

"You don't have to protect me from your pain, Captain. It's clear that you were and still are a very brave man."

"I'm merely broken, Miss Montrose."

"I do not believe that." They walked in step, and Miss Montrose squeezed his arm lightly, then she let go of his arm. She bent down and picked up a stick, partially buried in the sand.

"That's a little small to add to your driftwood pile," he said, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. She was always trying to improve something around her.

Miss Montrose stood in front of him, one eyebrow arched. She brandished the stick like a sword, her expression turning mischievous. "Teach me how to use this," she said, her voice carrying a playful challenge.

Daniel arched an eyebrow, trying to suppress the grin tugging at his lips. "It's a stick, Miss Montrose."

"No," she insisted, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "It's a sword, and I am not Miss Montrose. I am Lady Eliza, defender of the realm." She gave the stick an exaggerated flourish, stepping into a mock fencing stance with an air of exaggerated bravado. She struck a pose that was part challenge and part jest.

Daniel chuckled, the tension in his chest easing just a little. "Is that so? And what, pray tell, are you defending the realm from?"

She twirled the driftwood in her hand, her expression mock-serious. "All manner of rogues and scoundrels, of course. I must be prepared to fend them off. Now, are you going to teach me or not?"

He bent down, picking up a piece of driftwood and inspecting it with mock seriousness. "Well, Lady Eliza, the ton will most certainly hear of this scandal. Teaching a lady to wield a sword? I'll be ruined."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, adopting a haughty expression. "Let them talk. I'm not afraid of a little scandal."

Daniel couldn't help but smile, the weight of his earlier thoughts easing as he watched her. "Well, if you insist," he said, stepping closer and raising his makeshift sword. "And are you prepared to face your opponent, Lady Eliza?"

She grinned, tossing her hair with a playful confidence that made his heart skip. "If you're up to the challenge, Captain Blackwood."

He took a step closer, holding the driftwood like a fencing sword. "All right then, defender of the realm. Show me what you've got."

Miss Montrose grinned, lifting her stick and mimicking the stance she had seen him use once before. Her form was a little wobbly, and Daniel bit back a smile as she lunged forward with a dramatic flair. He parried easily, their makeshift swords clashing with a soft thud. Hers fell to the ground.

With a smirk, Daniel bent down and picked up her piece of driftwood, testing its weight in his hand before returning it to her. "Well, I suppose I'll have to give you a lesson first," he said, stepping forward and raising his makeshift sword .

Miss Montrose laughed, the sound bright and infectious. "That would be most helpful, Captain."

Daniel moved closer, positioning himself beside her. He adjusted her stance with a light touch, guiding her arm to the correct position. The feel of her against him, even in this simple contact, sent a surge of warmth through his chest. He could feel her breath hitch slightly at the closeness, and it made him more aware of just how near they were.

"Loosen your grip a bit," he said, moving to stand behind her. Gently, he adjusted her grip, his hands warm against hers. "You don't need to hold it so tightly. Fencing is about control, not force and brute strength."

She nodded, her gaze fixed on his, her expression a mix of determination and playfulness. She swung again, and this time her movements were smoother, more fluid. Daniel parried her strike easily.

They began to circle each other, the driftwood swords clacking together with a satisfying thunk as they sparred in the moonlight. She lunged forward with exaggerated flair, and Daniel parried easily, his movements fluid and controlled. She laughed as she stumbled slightly, catching herself with a playful twirl.

"You'll have to do better than that, Miss Montrose," Daniel teased.

She cleared her throat. "It's Lady Eliza, defender of the realm, if you please."

He smiled. "Very well, Lady Eliza, defender of the realm, you will have to do better than that. Rogues and scoundrels won't be so easily fooled."

She stepped back, twirling the driftwood in her hand with a flourish. "I'm just warming up, Captain. You haven't seen anything yet." She narrowed her eyes, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. She lunged again, this time with more precision, and Daniel felt his mood lift further as they fell into a light-hearted rhythm.

"Keep your wrist loose," he instructed, moving behind her to adjust her grip again. "Remember, quick is better than force."

She nodded, her eyes focused as she tried to follow his guidance. She swung again, the stick slicing through the air with more control. Daniel stepped back, feigning a dramatic retreat as if she had landed a successful strike.

"Oh, no! The valiant Lady Eliza has bested me," he exclaimed, staggering back with an exaggerated flourish. "I fear I'm no match for such skill."

She burst into laughter, her delight infectious as she held her stick aloft in triumph. "I told you, Captain. I'm not to be underestimated."

Daniel laughed, his mood visibly lightening with each playful exchange. "Clearly, I've been outmatched," he said, straightening up and raising his driftwood sword once more. "But let's see if you can handle a counterattack."

He stepped forward with a swift, playful lunge, and she parried, their sticks crossing in a flurry of mock battle. Daniel's eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched her concentrate, her brow furrowing with determination. He let her push him back a step, then ducked and swept her stick aside with a deft flick of his wrist.

"Almost," he said, grinning as she caught her balance and came at him again. "But you've got to anticipate your opponent's moves. Don't just react—predict."

She huffed, pretending to wipe the perspiration from her brow. "Easy for you to say, Captain. You've had years of practice."

Daniel's smile softened, and he gave her an encouraging nod. "And you're picking it up remarkably fast, Miss Montrose. I think you've got a natural talent for swordplay."

She laughed, the sound bright and carefree. "Or perhaps you're just an excellent teacher."

They continued their playful sparring, moving across the sand with growing confidence. Her laughter rang out as she lunged forward, her stick narrowly missing Daniel's side. He countered with a gentle tap on her shoulder, grinning at the mock indignation that crossed her face.

"Oh, so it's like that, is it?" she said, her eyes narrowing in feigned annoyance.

Daniel chuckled, his heart light as he circled her. "Just keeping you on your toes, Lady Eliza ."

She feigned a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. "You're lucky I'm a gracious opponent, Captain Blackwood. Otherwise, I might be tempted to seek revenge. "

"Is that so?" he teased, stepping closer until they were just a breath apart. "I'd like to see you try."

Their banter slowed as they circled one another, the air between them charged with a new kind of energy. She swung her stick with a little more force, and Daniel caught it deftly, the momentum pulling her closer to him. She tumbled into him, her heavy breathing matching his own. The space between them evaporated, and he became acutely aware of her soft form pressed against him. Their heavy breathing slowed and synchronized. Every nerve in his body could feel her nearness.

Daniel's gaze flickered to her lips, the soft curve of them so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. He let the driftwood drop from his hand, the piece of wood falling softly to the sand, forgotten. He could feel the magnetic pull, the irresistible urge to close the gap between them. His hand lifted almost of its own accord, his fingers brushing against her cheek, sliding back to cup her face.

She held his gaze, her breath catching as she leaned into his touch. The playfulness of the moment had shifted into something far more intense, the kind of tension that made Daniel's pulse quicken. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, feel the slight tremble in her as she closed the space between them.

"Lady Eliza," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

She didn't pull away; instead, she leaned into his touch, her eyes drifting to his lips. Daniel's breath hitched, the steady beat of his heart quickening as he felt her draw nearer. Daniel could feel the steady beat of his heart echoing in his ears, the moment stretching into eternity as he searched her face. She tilted her head, her lips just a breath away from his. He hesitated for only a moment, his mind caught between caution and desire, but then he let himself give in.

He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against hers—a tentative, almost questioning kiss that lingered just long enough to send a warm thrill through him. He pulled back, and for a heartbeat, they stayed like that, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, the connection between them electric and fragile. Her eyes fluttered shut, her hand reaching up to rest lightly on his arm, her touch sending a jolt of warmth through him.

Daniel pulled back just slightly, and she opened her eyes. He searched her gaze as if to ensure this was real, that she was right there with him. He saw the unspoken question in her eyes, the hint of something that was both invitation and challenge.

He moved in again, this time with more certainty, his lips meeting hers in a tender but deliberate kiss. She responded instantly, her hand sliding up to his shoulder as she pressed closer, the soft hum of the ocean providing a backdrop to the quiet intensity of their kiss. His fingers slid into her hair, the silky strands slipping easily through his grasp as he deepened the kiss, savoring the warmth and softness of her mouth.

The world seemed to fall away—the shore, the night, the lingering shadows of his past—all of it fading into the background as he lost himself in the present moment. There was only Eliza, her kindness, and the way she fit perfectly against him, her presence a quiet promise of something bright and new.

When they finally pulled apart, Daniel rested his forehead against hers, his breath still ragged. Her eyes were bright, a mix of surprise and something deeper that made his heart swell. He didn't want to break the silence, to ruin the fragile peace that had settled between them, but he couldn't help the small, incredulous smile that tugged at his lips.

"It appears you have disarmed me, Lady Eliza of the realm."

"That was quite unexpected," she whispered, her voice tinged with a soft, breathless laugh. "I must defer to the skill of my excellent teacher, Captain."

He chuckled, pressing a quick, lingering kiss to her forehead before finally letting her go. They stood there for a moment, still close, the driftwood swords lying forgotten at their feet. The night air was cool against Daniel's skin, but the warmth of her presence seemed to chase away the chill, leaving him with a sense of comfort and hope that felt new and exhilarating.

"I imagine the ton would be very scandalized," he said .

She nodded. "Perhaps it is best if we end our lessons for the evening, Captain."

He smiled and held out his arm for her. She took it, holding onto him tighter than she had before. "Thank you for tonight."

"It's I who owe you the thanks. I believe I shall take up fencing as a hobby."

He walked her to her door to ensure her safety and though he wished to hold her in his arms again and repeat the kiss they'd experienced on the shore, he refrained. He merely took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. "Good night, Miss Montrose."

"Good night, Captain." Her hand moved to her lips before she let herself into her house.

There was a flood of emotions as he walked back to his house, all clamoring for his attention. Clearly, something had changed between him and his neighbor. Was it merely being caught up in the moment, in the moonlight? He had to believe that it was more than that.

Inside, Mr. Jenkins was waiting as usual, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. The butler gave Daniel a knowing look, his smile almost imperceptible but unmistakably warm.

"Good evening, Captain," Mr. Jenkins greeted, his tone laced with quiet amusement.

Daniel nodded, his thoughts still lingering on the beach, on the feeling of Eliza's lips against his. "Good evening, Jenkins. "

The butler's eyes crinkled slightly, his smile widening just a fraction. "I trust your walk was … enlightening?"

Daniel paused, glancing at Mr. Jenkins with a bemused expression. "You could say that."

Mr. Jenkins nodded approvingly, his gaze thoughtful. "It's good to see you smiling again, Captain."

"It's … good to be smiling again."

"Truly. It's been a while."

Daniel looked at him, the truth of those words sinking in. "Yes, it has," he admitted softly. "But I think things are changing."

Jenkins offered a respectful bow, his eyes gleaming with quiet pride. "Indeed, sir. Very good to see."

Daniel looked at him, the weight of the day's events settling comfortably in his chest. "Thank you, Jenkins."

Mr. Jenkins retreated, leaving Daniel alone with his thoughts. As he made his way up the stairs, Daniel couldn't shake the feeling of lightness that filled him, the sense that perhaps, amidst the darkness of his past, there was room for something new, something bright.