Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

T he morning air was still and quiet, a heavy silence that weighed on Eliza's chest. Two days had passed since Daniel had called off their wedding, and each one felt like an eternity. She had spent the hours waiting—waiting for a note, a visit, any sign from him that he had reconsidered his decision. But nothing came. Not a word. Not a single sign that he still cared. The ache in her chest deepened with every moment that passed.

The morning after the confrontation in the garden, she had waited until noon, watching the road for any glimpse of him. By the afternoon, she could stand it no longer. She had put on her cloak and called on him at Blackwood Manor, hoping—praying—that he would at least allow her to speak with him.

But when the butler met her at the door, his expression was apologetic, his words a polite dismissal. "Captain Blackwood is not seeing anyone, Miss Montrose," he had said, his tone respectful but firm.

She had left Blackwood Manor with her heart heavy and her mind racing. How could he push her away so completely?

That evening, she had visited Emily, hoping to gain some insight into Daniel's state of mind. But Emily had given her little comfort. "He hasn't been around for meals," she had told Eliza. "He's been keeping to himself. We're all worried."

When Eliza told her that Daniel had called off the wedding, Emily's eyes filled with concern. She had promised to convey Eliza's message, but her worry was clear—Daniel was retreating into himself, shutting out everyone who cared about him. Even her.

Now, on the second day, Eliza's heart was weary with the waiting. She stood by the window in her small sitting room, staring out at the soft light of dawn, when she saw a figure walking along the beach.

Her breath caught.

Daniel.

Without thinking, she pulled on her cloak and stepped outside, determination driving her feet forward. The early morning air was cool, and the sky was tinged with soft hues of lavender and pink. The beach was still wet from the night's tide, the sand firm beneath her feet—at first. But as she moved closer to the shore, the ground began to soften, and with each step, her injured ankle strained against the uneven terrain.

She pushed forward, determined to reach him, even as her ankle ached with every movement. As she approached the shoreline, she saw Daniel stop walking, his tall frame outlined against the pale horizon. His head turned slightly, and she knew he had spotted her.

"Eliza," he called out, his voice laced with both surprise and something akin to frustration. "What are you doing out here? You shouldn't be walking on the sand with your ankle in that condition."

Eliza paused, breathing heavily. "If you had answered when I came to call," she replied, her tone sharper than intended, "it would have saved me the hassle."

His brow furrowed as he took a step toward her, his frustration giving way to concern. "This is reckless. Let me help you before you hurt yourself."

She shook her head, stubbornly trying to walk the last few steps toward him, but the sand shifted beneath her feet, and she stumbled slightly. In an instant, Daniel was at her side, his hands on her arms, steadying her. His touch was warm, firm, and familiar, sending a surge of emotion through her.

"Come," he said gently, guiding her toward a nearby rock. "Sit down before you injure yourself further."

Eliza allowed him to help her to the rock, sinking onto the smooth surface with a heavy sigh. The wind tousled her hair, and she glanced up at him as he stood beside her, his expression conflicted.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore filling the space between them. The tension in the air was thick, but Eliza refused to let it go on like this. She turned to face him, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Are we going to talk this through, Daniel?" Her voice was steady, but there was a vulnerability in it that she couldn't hide. "You've called off the wedding, but you won't speak to me. I'm not here to beg you, but I'm not running away either. I deserve to know what you're feeling."

Daniel exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. His shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of everything he had been carrying was finally too much. "I'm sorry, Eliza," he said softly. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Then why?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why push me away? Why close yourself off from me?"

He looked out at the sea, his jaw tight. "Because I don't want to burden you with this. With me. You saw what happened in the garden. I can't control it—I can't always separate the past from the present. You deserve someone whole, someone who isn't haunted by nightmares and memories of war."

Eliza's heart ached at the pain in his voice, at the raw honesty of his confession. "You think I haven't considered that? You think I don't understand that you've been through something terrible? Daniel, I know you're hurting. I know it's not easy. But I'm not afraid of that. I'm not afraid of you."

He turned to her then, his green eyes filled with a mixture of anguish and longing. "You should be, Eliza. You saw it—you felt it. I nearly hurt you."

"You didn't," she said firmly, reaching out to take his hand. "You didn't hurt me. You were scared, and I understand that. But you're not alone. I'm here, Daniel. I want to be here. With you. Hiding and pushing me away has hurt far worse."

He looked down at her hand, his fingers trembling slightly as he clasped hers. "I don't want you to carry this burden."

"It's not a burden," she whispered. "Not when it's with you."

For a long moment, Daniel said nothing. He stared at their intertwined hands, as if searching for the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, raw with emotion. "I don't know how to let you in, Eliza. I'm afraid of hurting you, of failing you."

Eliza stood then, stepping closer to him, her hands moving to cup his face gently. He froze at the touch, his breath hitching as she looked up at him, her blue eyes steady and unwavering.

"You won't fail me," she whispered, her thumbs brushing lightly over his cheeks. "We'll face it together. I'm not going anywhere."

For a moment, he simply stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, slowly, he leaned down, his forehead resting gently against hers. The air between them was charged, their breaths mingling as they stood there, so close, yet still holding back.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"You do," she whispered back, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. "You do, Daniel. But I won't force you to still marry me if you wish to truly be released. I won't beg for you to change your mind."

"Are you sure you won't regret that decision? I would love nothing more than to marry you tomorrow, but I don't want it to be a decision that you'll regret."

"I'm not going to regret it. I will help you, but I can't do that if you won't let me in."

He nodded, pulling her close to him and wrapping his arms around you. "I love you, Eliza. I am so sorry for all I've put you through. I thought I was doing the right thing by protecting you."

"You don't need to protect me from this. I'm here to stand by you."

His eyes searched hers. "I see that now," he said softly. And then, with a tenderness that made her heart ache, he closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a soft, lingering kiss. It was slow, hesitant at first, as if he was still afraid of what it meant, but as Eliza responded, the kiss deepened, a shared promise of love and understanding.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads still resting together, Daniel exhaled a shaky breath. "I can't promise I'll be perfect."

"I don't need perfect," Eliza whispered, her fingers brushing through his hair. "I just need you."