Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A fter a few rounds of cards, where more attention was given to witty banter than the actual rules of the game, Eliza stood, smoothing the fabric of her skirts as she prepared to take her leave. "I believe I should head home now," she said, offering a graceful curtsy to her host. "Thank you for a delightful evening, Captain."

Captain Blackwood rose and bowed in return, his expression softening as he looked at her. "I can call for the carriage," he offered, his voice earnest.

Eliza smiled, warmth spreading through her at his thoughtfulness. "There is no need for that. It's faster for me to walk through the hedge than to trouble your stables. I should be home before the horses were ready."

Captain Blackwood's eyes held hers, a quiet determination shining in their depths. "Allow me to walk you home then, to ensure your safety. "

A pleasant warmth filled Eliza's chest, but she tried to brush it off lightly. "Surely, that is not necessary."

"I insist," he said, his gaze unwavering.

She hesitated for a moment, her heart fluttering at the prospect of a quiet walk alone with him, her thoughts immediately traveling back to last night's walk on the beach. Captain Blackwood had also asked for time to talk to her alone. Might this be the opportunity? Would he declare himself, or talk of courtship? So many thoughts filled her mind at the prospect. "Very well. Thank you, Captain."

Eliza said her goodbyes to Lord and Lady Devon, reassuring Emily several times that she would indeed return for tea on the morrow to help plan the ball.

Captain Blackwood offered his arm, and Eliza looped hers through his, the simple contact sending a small thrill through her. He escorted her out of the room. Together they stepped out into the cool night. The sharp nip of the air prickled the bare skin of her arms, catching Eliza off guard. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, taking comfort in the fact that the walk to her cottage would not be long. Had the night been much colder, she would have seen the wisdom in accepting a carriage ride, instead of walking through the dew-laden ground through the hedge that connected their properties.

Captain Blackwood released her arm, and with a swift movement, shrugged off his coat. He draped it around her shoulders with care, the fabric heavy and warm, carrying the faint scent of sandalwood and cedar that seemed to cling to him. "You should have allowed me the honor of sending you home in a carriage instead of through the cold evening."

She grasped on the lapels of his coat, pulling it close around her. "You are very kind, Captain. Thank you," she said, looking up at him with a grateful smile. "And thank you for this evening. I had a delightful time."

"I am so glad you joined us," he said, offering her his arm again. The moon hung high, casting a gentle light that dappled the path ahead, illuminating their way. He guided her through the garden toward the hedge that separated their properties. "I hope you will join us again while my cousins are here. Emily has taken quite the liking to you."

Eliza laughed softly, the sound mingling with the night air. "I imagine she likes everyone and sets everyone at ease."

"Perhaps she does," he said, his gaze lingering on her. "But I do not think it's any less genuine."

"I am looking forward to helping her, as long as you truly do not mind the idea of a ball, Captain?" She stopped walking for a moment. She glanced up at Captain Blackwood, her curiosity piqued. "Please tell me your candid thoughts. I do not wish to cause discord."

His arm tightened beneath her fingers, and she felt his hand cover hers, the warmth of his touch a quiet reassurance. "I would like it if you helped her," he said, his tone sincere. His shoulder brushed against hers, and the contact sent a pleasant shiver through Eliza. "But perhaps you could try to rein her in a little, so she doesn't go overboard with only a fortnight to plan."

Heat spread through Eliza, a warmth that seemed to start from where his shoulder touched hers and radiated outward. She wished their moonlit walk would stretch on longer, that the night wouldn't end so soon. "I shall do my best, Captain," she replied, her voice light with amusement.

As they walked closer toward the hedge, Captain Blackwood slowed his steps until he stopped completely, his expression growing more serious. He glanced at her, as if weighing his words before speaking. "Eliza, there's something I've been meaning to discuss with you," he began, his voice low and steady. "It's been on my mind since yesterday."

Eliza's heart quickened, anticipation flaring within her. She had hoped for this moment, half expecting it to be about the possibility of courtship—an acknowledgment of the kiss they shared on the beach and what it might mean for them. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for a sign of the same hope she felt. "Of course, Captain," she said softly, her tone careful. "What is it?"

Captain Blackwood exhaled slowly, as if gathering his thoughts. "Last night, when we kissed …" He hesitated, his eyes flickering with a mix of emotion that Eliza couldn't quite decipher. "It meant a great deal to me," he said fi nally, his voice carrying a weight that made Eliza's breath catch.

Eliza smiled, the weight of this moment not lost on her. Warmth ran through her at his words and his look. They were a confession of his feelings, which were beyond what she could have imagined. "It meant a great deal to me as well."

"I want you to know that I don't regret it. Not for a moment."

"Neither do I," she said. This was the strangest path to take to a conversation on courtship, but then Captain Blackwood was not always conventional.

He nodded, but a crease formed between his eyebrows. He took her hands in his. "But it has also brought to light with greater clarity some things that I've been struggling with for quite some time—things I need to work through."

Eliza's smile wavered, her heart tugging painfully as she listened. She had been so sure this conversation would lean toward the romantic that they would continue exploring the connection that had been building between them. Now, as she stood before him, she felt a mixture of understanding and a touch of foolishness for having let her mind wander so far. The unmet expectations stung. "I see," she said, her voice gentle. "What sort of things, Captain?"

He paused, his expression flickering with an emotion she couldn't quite read. When he spoke, his voice was measured but laced with an underlying tension. "I've mentioned before that I've been having nightmares—terrible ones. They've been with me since the war, but lately, they've become worse. Some nights, I can't sleep at all. It's as if everything I've tried to bury is resurfacing, and I'm… struggling to keep it all at bay."

Eliza felt her heart ache at the vulnerability in his voice, the pain that seemed to seep through his otherwise stoic exterior. The weight of his words pressed heavily on her chest. She reached out and touched his arm. "I'm so sorry, Captain," she said earnestly, her voice thick with empathy. "That sounds incredibly difficult. But you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here, and I want to help, however I can."

For a moment, Captain Blackwood covered her hand with his, his grip warm and steady. But then he pulled back slightly, shaking his head. "I appreciate that more than you know, but it's not that simple," he said, his voice strained. "This isn't something I want to burden you with. I need to figure out how to manage this on my own. I care for you—deeply—but I'm not in a place where I can pursue anything more right now. Not when I'm barely holding things together myself."

Eliza's chest tightened, her mind racing with a mix of emotions. She could sense the walls he was trying to keep in place, the struggle to protect her from the parts of himself that he found too damaged to share. "Captain, it doesn't have to be perfect," she urged gently. "I don't mind helping you through it. We can face it together."

He shook his head. "I don't want this to become your burden."

She had wanted so much to hear him say that he wanted to be with her, that the kiss they shared was the beginning of something real. Instead, she found herself caught between wanting to support him and feeling a pang of disappointment that he needed to step back. "Captain, I understand," she said, though her voice wavered slightly. "But I don't see you as a burden. I've never felt that way."

Captain Blackwood's expression softened, and he gave her a small, grateful smile. "I know you don't, and that's why I need to be clear about this. I don't want to bring you into the mess of what I'm dealing with. You deserve more than that—you deserve better than half measures and uncertainties. I just need some time to work through this."

Eliza nodded, though a quiet sadness lingered at the edges of her resolve. She understood his need to heal, but it didn't make it any easier to temper her own feelings. "If that's what you need, then I will respect it," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "But please don't think for a moment that you're not worthy of care or support, or that I would think of you as a burden. You don't have to be perfect, Captain."

He squeezed her hand gently before letting it go. " Thank you, Miss Montrose. That means more than I can say," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of relief and sadness. "I just need some time to sort through this. It's not about avoiding you—I still want to see you and spend time together. But right now I need to make sure I'm in the right place before we move forward in our relationship."

Eliza searched his face, catching the honesty in his eyes and the vulnerability he rarely let show. It was a side of him that made her want to reach out, to reassure him that she could be patient, but also that she wouldn't simply fade into the background while he figured things out. "I understand, Captain."

He offered her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you. I know it might be awkward, especially with my cousins here and us seeing each other more often. But I promise, I'm not trying to avoid you while I'm working through this."

"Should I refrain from helping Emily with the ball, then?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with concern. "Would that make things easier for you?"

Captain Blackwood shook his head firmly. "No, not at all. Your help with Emily is entirely separate from this. And frankly, she could use someone sensible to keep her plans grounded," he said with a faint smile. "I'm not trying to put distance between us—I just need this time to work through things. I ask only for a little patience."

Eliza managed a smile, though she couldn't quite shake the wistfulness that clung to her heart. "Of course, Captain. I can be patient," she said, her voice gentle but steady. "And when you're ready, I'll be here."

He nodded, but there was still the crease between his brows, and she longed to reach her hand up and smooth out the lines. He grabbed her hand, and for a moment she allowed herself the thrill of the sensation of his fingers against hers. But just as quickly, he tucked her arm around his, and they continued walking.

As they reached the hedge, Eliza's slipper caught on a hidden root, and she stumbled forward, her balance momentarily lost. In an instant, Captain Blackwood's arm was around her waist, pulling her close and steadying her against him. "Eliza! Are you all right?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

It took Eliza a second to register the closeness, the way his arm held her securely, his breath warm against her temple. It wasn't lost on her that he had used her Christian name for the first time. She'd been used to hearing it all day from Emily, but Captain Blackwood had never used it. The sound of her name on his lips sent her heart racing; it sounded both intimate and comforting in the quiet of the night.

Air seemed to fill her lungs at an unnatural pace, but she explained it away with the peril of almost falling in the dark next to some very sharp thorny bushes. "I am, thanks to you, Captain," she said softly, finding it hard to pull away from the security of his embrace, though he had just asked her for patience and time. It felt like acute torture to be back in his arms like this, right after such words had been spoken.

He didn't immediately release her, his arm lingering around her shoulders as they continued the last stretch of their walk. The proximity was charged, filled with a tension and a longing.

When they finally reached her front door, he stepped back reluctantly, the night's cool air filling the space between them.

Eliza carefully slipped off his coat, her fingers brushing the smooth fabric as she extended it back to him. "Thank you for escorting me home, for the use of your jacket, and for ensuring I didn't end up in the thorny patch," she said, her voice soft with gratitude.

He took the coat, his fingers grazing hers and lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. He held her gaze, his expression unreadable but warm. "I am at your service," he murmured, his tone carrying an unspoken promise. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he lifted her hand and pressed a swift, light kiss to her knuckle.

The gesture, though brief, sent a thrill through Eliza that she couldn't quite name. Those simple words— "I am at your service" —echoed in her mind, each syllable pulling at the corners of her heart. She knew that duty was at the core of everything he did, but the way he spoke, the way he held her gaze, made her believe that perhaps he was saying more than just a polite farewell. After their conversation, she couldn't quite decipher it .

He took a step back, his reluctance evident in the way his eyes lingered on her. "Good night, Eliza … Miss Montrose."

Was it only her imagination, or did it seem as if the Captain were having a harder time pronouncing her surname? She swallowed, unwilling to be lost in his eyes. For now, hope was solidly next to her … on the shelf.

"Good night, Captain." Once inside, she went to the window, watching until Captain Blackwood's silhouette faded into the shadows of the garden. Her heart was a jumbled mess. In one simple walk from his home to hers, her heart had fluttered from the touch of his hand, the warmth of his coat, the softness of his kiss on her knuckles. And he'd also asked for time, and patience, and understanding. She closed her eyes. No, she hadn't been rejected, just been put off in the kindest way, and in a way, that was worse. He still wanted her around, but while he worked through his own demons, there was nothing between them. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders, unsure how to proceed and pretend like her heart wasn't affected by the choice he had just made. Acute torture.