Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

“ I n your chamber?” Margaret repeated the words as she stared at Theo’s face.

His brows had contracted, his eyes scarcely able to settle on either her or the cup of tea he was struggling to hold onto. She hastily put down her own cup and moved to lay her hands over his, steadying the cup between them.

“Do you know how it started?”

“I just remember staring at the flames. It didn’t seem to be in the hearth at all, but on the rug. As if… someone had lit the fire there.” He cursed violently and hung his head. “As an adult, that seems so plain, doesn’t it? Of course, someone started the fire then.”

“You couldn’t have known. You were a boy, Theo. Would you blame a child for not seeing it?”

“No, but –”

“Exactly,” she cut him off before he could set an unrealistic expectation of himself. “It was natural for you not to see it. How did you get out of there?”

“I started yelling. I didn’t move at first. I was stuck to the spot, the terror gripping to me. I didn’t know that Mrs. Lancaster was in the corridor behind me. She ran up, grabbed my hand and dragged me away. We escaped down the servants’ stairwell and out into the stable yard.”

He sat forward, his face contorted in pain. “The fire took hold so fast, someone concluded later that it was as if more than one fire had become out of control in the hearths. What if that was not the case? What if my mother set the fire going on my hearth rug? And my father’s?”

Margaret had no doubts he was right, but she was reluctant to confirm this was any more horrific than it already was.

“I know the truth now.” He sank down, onto his haunches again. He looked down and must have seen her other wrist was still bloodied. Taking a quick sip of his tea, he put the cup down by his feet, not on the saucer, and cleaned her wound.

She noted how messy he was at this moment, but how he didn’t seem to care. Could it be that he had lost his need for neatness at last?

Perhaps his need for everything to be neat was in effort to get some control of his life.

She couldn’t blame him if such a desire were true.

“I became duke at just thirteen,” he explained in a rush, apparently wanting to be done with this conversation now. “My mother was here, already here,” he said with resentment. “The attempts at exorcisms continued, then at fifteen, I saw the truth of my father’s activities. I sought to extricate our finances from them.”

“And your mother… what happened with her?”

“I grew taller. Stronger.” Theodore paused in binding her wrist. “One day, she raised the fire poker to hit me, and I stopped her. I took the poker out of her hands and threw it against the wall. She ran, screeching about what a demon I was.” He scoffed. “A day later, she moved out of the house.”

“Thank God,” Margaret murmured with a sigh. “Theo…” She reached out toward him. He didn’t stop her or catch her hand, he just let her place it on his chest.

Overawed that he was now so free with her, she laid her hand to the center of his chest.

“Don’t let them mark you forever,” she pleaded. “Your mother… her darkness, don’t let it affect the rest of your life.”

“Ah, Maggie.” He sighed. “It always will. There’s something more I need to show you.”

He stood, her hand falling from his chest. She sat back, watching as he turned and started to take of his cravat. Speechless, she watched him remove his waistcoat next and then his shirt.

What is he doing?

He faced her as he pulled the shirt over his head. He looked in agony, ashamed, unable to look her in the eye.

“What is it?” she asked. Any wish she had to admire him, to marvel at the strength and tone in his body, paled when she saw his expression.

Slowly, he folded up the shirt, though he seemed to lose the will to be so neat as he dropped it loosely onto a chair nearby, then he turned around to face away from her.

The candlelight bathed his back, revealing hundreds of white scars across his skin.

Margaret stumbled to her feet, kicking over the teacup between them, in her alarm, though neither of them made the effort to right it again. She ran toward him, reaching out but not quite touching his back.

The numerous scars were vivid. It shocked her, to see what both his mother and father had done to hurt their child.

“How could they do this to you?” Her voice hitched at the terror of it all. They took out their angers on life on their son, a boy that they should have loved.

“See?” Theo whispered over his shoulder, looking at her. “The marks will not go away.”

“No, perhaps not, but they will fade.” She moved toward him. Without thinking about what she was doing, she hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing herself against his scarred back.

She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had thrown her off him, demanded to be released. It was the kind of thing he might have done in the past. Instead, he laid a hand over one of hers on his waist.

“You are not horrified?” he asked.

“Of course not.” She lifted her head from his back, looking at him over his shoulder. “They will fade, Theo. Maybe you cannot see it now, but they will. What you can see here, the scars you feel, too, they will fade in time. Just live your life to the full. Don’t let them win by cowering away from a life fully lived. I beg that of you.”

He turned to face her, prompting her to loosen her arms. She shifted so that her hand rested on his chest, over his heart. He looked down at that touch, but he didn’t touch her back.

“It seemed simpler, to pull away, not to let these shadows affect anyone else.” He met her eye. “If you stay with me, Maggie, this darkness… it won’t go away completely. It’s part of me. Why would you want to be anywhere near that?”

“Because there is a lot else to you. You just haven’t been looking for it as hard as I have been,” she said with a smile. To her surprise, he mirrored it. He even looked tempted to laugh.

“What is it about you?” he whispered. “You could have run from me a thousand times, as many have done when I so much as glare at them, but you never did. Even when I ran from you, you didn’t quell. You cried.” He raised his hand and cupped her cheek, gently. “Why would you cry for losing me?”

“Shall I tell you why?” she whispered, moving so she was that bit closer to him, looking up into his eyes as he caressed her cheek. “Because I care for you, Theo. I care for who you are, deep in here.” She shifted her fingers on his chest, aware of the way he inhaled deeply, apparently stunned at her touch. “And no matter what you say to me, even if you tell me until you are blue in the face that you have a heart of stone –”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You did. I will not believe you.” She shook her head. “Because I have seen your heart. It’s a strong heart, courageous, brave, and holds itself in a little locked iron chest not to let anyone else near it, but it’s there all the same.” She smiled up at him. “Could you honestly tell me, Theo, that after you came and pulled me out of that cellar you do not care for me?”

He blinked, clearly startled she had said these words.

“You dragged me out of there, clutched tightly onto me, as I did you. Surely… I am not so much of a fool to think that I am the only one risking their heart here. Am I?” she asked, holding her breath as she waited for her answer.

He closed his eyes and leaned toward her, resting their foreheads together.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said I felt nothing?” he whispered, his tone slightly teasing.

“Not in the slightest,” she mimicked his tone. “Look how close you are to me now, Theo. Remember the night I kissed you… you kissed me back.”

“Then let me show you what it is I feel for you.” He shifted the two of them together. His forehead slipped from hers as his lips suddenly found her own.

The kiss was all encompassing. Margaret lifted her hands up his shoulders, holding onto him as he bent her back a little, his lips parting hers so that their tongues brushed with elicit excitement. Margaret practically moaned into that kiss in surprise.

Unlike the last time, Theo was holding nothing back now. He kissed her, as if she was the very thing that was keeping him alive and breathing. She kissed him back with equal fervor and passion, so that when they did pull away from each other, they were both breathless, leaning toward one another. His hands rested on her hips as her palms found the center of his chest.

“Before I ask you my next question,” Theodore began, a soft smile playing at his lips, “remember some things about me. I carry these scars.”

“I’ll remember.”

“I come with my mother too, unfortunately. What passes now for her will be no easy thing to endure.”

“I know.” She nodded, assuring him she understood it all.

“I can also be bloody minded, perhaps a little moody at times.”

“I think I might have seen a little bit of that,” she teased him, prompting them both to laugh softly. He slipped his hands across her back, pulling her into him again.

“But you’re right,” he murmured. “I do have a heart, and it latched itself onto you some time ago, which is why I have been pushing you aware. Perhaps I have been scared to feel anything again, because I’m scared of what pain comes from loving… and not being loved in return.”

“You never need to feel that pain again,” she whispered, drawing her hands further down her chest. It was her declaration, her own way of saying that she loved him too. It made them both smile, giddily.

“Then here is my question, Maggie. Would you… stay married to me? Please?” he whispered, only hesitating a breath as he looked her in the eye.

“Yes. I will.” She closed her arms around his neck and pulled him back down toward her for a kiss. He didn’t hesitate as he closed their lips together. In fact, he kissed her with so much fervor this time that they both nearly lost their footing, stumbling together and holding on tight, just to keep the kiss for as long as possible.

When they did pull away, Margaret felt how ridiculously she was smiling. Despite all the pain she had known that day, all the fear, she was glad to be in this moment, here with him now, for she knew him better than she thought she would ever be allowed to know him.

“Tonight,” he whispered, “stay here with me. Please? Just sleep beside me. I’ve missed you.”

Margaret held his hand tight.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised.