Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Winston sat at the dining table as the lively conversation flowed around him. Despite the cheerful chatter, his thoughts were heavy. The idea of Mattie having hordes of suitors lining up to meet her gnawed at him. How could she not attract them? She was unlike any young woman he knew. Mattie was undeniably beautiful, clever and full of wit. She was precisely the type of woman that he always envisioned he would marry. But life had a way of shattering dreams.

White stepped into the dining room and met Winston’s gaze. “The constable wishes for a moment of your time, my lord,” he announced.

“Very well,” Winston said, pushing back his chair. He glanced at the ladies. “Excuse me.”

Mattie looked over at him, offering a private smile that warmed his heart. He returned her smile, leaning closer to her, feeling an immense desire to be near her. “Do not let my mother’s enthusiasm for the Season overwhelm you,” he remarked.

“I won’t,” Mattie assured him.

“Good, because I have no doubt you will do remarkably well this Season,” he praised, rising from his seat .

Winston departed from the dining room and headed towards the entry hall. There, he saw the tall, broad-shouldered constable with a scar that ran along his chin. Mr. Strunk held his hat in his hand as he acknowledged Winston with a tip of his head. “Good morning, my lord,” he greeted.

“Good morning,” Winston responded.

“I hope I did not come at a bad time,” Mr. Strunk said.

“You did no such thing,” Winston remarked. “Is Isaac in custody?”

Mr. Strunk shook his head. “Unfortunately, I went to the cottage where Mr. Blythe was supposedly residing, and he was not there.”

“Where could he be?” Winston asked, frustration lacing his voice.

“It appears as if he had left in a hurry. The cottage looked as if it had been ransacked,” Mr. Strunk informed him.

“Wonderful,” Winston muttered.

Mr. Strunk grew solemn. “I have a few men looking for Mr. Blythe and I have no doubt that he will eventually turn up.”

Winston frowned, his mind racing with the potential havoc Isaac could wreak before he was caught. “I want him found and punished for breaking into my home,” he said firmly.

“And he will be,” Mr. Strunk assured him. “Have some patience. Mr. Blythe will be in my custody soon enough.”

Knowing there was little he could do but wait, Winston nodded in acknowledgement. “Inform me at once when Isaac is in custody.”

“I will,” Mr. Strunk responded before he departed from the manor.

As he went to turn around, he found himself face to face with Elodie. She smiled. “Hello, Brother,” she said innocently.

“What are you doing here?” Winston asked.

“Nothing,” Elodie replied with a casual shrug. “I was just hoping to speak to my brother for a moment. Is that wrong of me?”

“It depends on what you wish to speak about,” Winston said warily.

Elodie placed a hand on her chest, feigning innocence once more. “Shall we speak in the drawing room so others cannot overhear this conversation?”

The last thing Winston wanted to do was engage in one of Elodie’s schemes, but he knew she would continue to pester him until he gave in. He might as well get it over with.

Winston gestured towards the drawing room. “After you, Sister,” he said.

Elodie brushed past him and entered the drawing room. Once she stood in the middle, she spun back around and lowered her voice. “When are you going to make your intentions known to Mattie?”

Winston sighed. He should have known that Elodie would wish to talk about such a difficult topic. “I’m not,” he responded curtly.

“Whyever not?” Elodie asked, her tone incredulous. “You care for her, she cares for you… the next step is a baby in the cradle.”

Winston grinned despite himself. “You missed a few steps there.”

“Did I?” Elodie asked, smiling mischievously.

Winston’s grin faded as he met his sister’s earnest gaze. “Elodie, it is not that simple. There are things you don’t understand.”

“What is there to understand?” Elodie asked. “Could you truly watch Mattie being courted by a myriad of suitors and just stand by and watch?”

Winston decided it was best if he just told Elodie the truth and hoped she would understand. “I wrote Mattie a letter, declaring my intentions, but she never responded.”

“You gave her this letter?” Elodie asked.

“No, but I gave it to Miss Emma, and she assured me that Mattie would receive it,” Winston said.

Elodie considered his words before asking, “When was this?”

“About a year ago,” Winston replied.

“People change,” Elodie insisted. “What if Mattie regrets not responding to your letter and is hoping you make another attempt?”

Winston placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “I am not going to pester Mattie until she agrees to marry me. That wouldn’t be fair to her, or me.”

“So you just give up?”

He shook his head. “It is better this way.”

Elodie’s eyes grew wide with frustration. “Better for whom?” she asked, her voice rising in challenge.

Winston sighed, dropping his arm. “It is complicated, Elodie, and I hope that you will respect my choice in the matter.”

“But you are wrong to do so,” Elodie insisted. “You are denying yourself happiness. You must trust me on this. Just go speak to Mattie and tell her that you are madly in love with her.”

He blinked, taken aback. “Who said anything about love?”

Elodie gave him a knowing look. “I can see it in your eyes whenever you look at Mattie,” she said. “And, quite frankly, I have suspected it for quite some time now.”

Winston looked away, the weight of her words pressing on him. “What if you are wrong?” he asked. “I will be humiliated once more.”

“I used to think that love was elusive, like a unicorn…”

“Unicorns aren’t real,” Winston interjected.

“… we shall have to agree to disagree on that,” she said, undeterred.

Winston gave his sister an exasperated look. “There is nothing to disagree upon. Unicorns aren’t real. ”

“Aren’t they?” Elodie’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

“They are not,” Winston responded firmly.

“Fine. Have it your way,” Elodie said with a smile. “I used to think that love was imaginary, like a unicorn, but I was wrong. If you have a chance at love, you must take it, even if it means that your heart is ripped open. Because the right person is capable of making it whole.”

Winston eyed Elodie curiously, wondering when she had gotten so wise. But despite the familiar amusement in her eyes, he saw the sincerity as well. Perhaps she was right. And, perhaps, despite everything, there was still a chance for him and Mattie. “Thank you, Elodie,” he said softly. “I will think about what you have said.”

Elodie smiled. “You might want to speak to Mattie now since Mother is holding her hostage in the dining room.”

He chuckled. “That does not surprise me.”

As he made his way to the dining room, Elodie’s words echoed in his mind. With each step, his resolve strengthened. He would speak to Mattie. He would tell her everything and hope that she wouldn’t reject him once more.

Winston stopped outside of the dining room door as he heard Mattie’s laugh drift out into the corridor. Her laugh was his favorite sound in the whole world. He took a moment, savoring the melody of her joy and letting it fortify his courage.

Taking a deep breath, Winston stepped into the dining room and met Mattie’s gaze. She smiled. A beautiful smile. With it, he glimpsed something far more beautiful than all the stars in the night sky.

“Ah, Winston,” his mother greeted, drawing his attention. “Have you concluded your business?”

“Yes, Mother,” Winston replied.

His mother shoved back her chair. “Good, because White just informed me that the musicians are setting up in the music room.”

“Musicians?” Winston asked.

Rising, his mother responded, “Do you not recall agreeing to being Mattie’s dance partner?”

“I do, but I just didn’t realize that it would happen so soon,” Winston said. “I thought we were waiting for the dancing master.”

“I saw no reason to lollygag,” his mother responded.

Mattie stood up, smoothing down the fabric of her black dress. “I feel as if I should warn Lord Winston that I am not the most accomplished dancer.”

Winston gave her an encouraging smile. “I have no doubt that you are much better than you give yourself credit for,” he reassured her.

“You are kind,” Mattie said as she approached him. She came to a stop in front of him and lowered her voice. “I’m sorry.”

Winston cocked his head. “Whatever for?”

“I am sure you have more important things to do than be my dance partner,” she remarked as she lowered her gaze.

In a voice that he hoped conveyed his sincerity, he replied, “There is no other place I would like to be.”

Mattie brought her gaze back up, uncertainty in her eyes. “Do you truly mean it, my lord?”

He puffed out his chest. “It is not every day that I can show off my extraordinary dancing skills.”

A laugh escaped Mattie’s lips and she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. “Well, I am most grateful to have such a skilled partner.”

Encouraged by her laughter, Winston suggested, “Perhaps we could take a walk in the gardens after our dance.”

Mattie’s eyes seemed to search his, as if she were looking for answers. “I would like that,” she said.

“Good,” Winston replied, offering his arm. “Shall we make our way to the music room?”

She placed her hand gently on his arm, and they walked together down the corridor towards the music room. The distant sounds of violins and soft murmurs of conversation filled the air.

As they entered the music room, Winston released Mattie’s arm, but remained close by her side. A faint scent of lavender wafted off her person, and he couldn’t help but take a moment to savor it.

His mother had followed them into the room and now clapped her hands to garner everyone’s attention. “I believe we shall start with the waltz.”

Mattie’s mouth dropped. “The waltz?” she repeated. “I have never danced the waltz with a gentleman before.”

Winston turned to face her fully, seeing the worry lines etched on her forehead. He leaned in closer and whispered reassuringly, “Trust me.”

She blinked, and all the worry seemed to disappear from her expression, replaced by a look of quiet determination. “I do,” she replied with conviction.

The musicians began to play a soft, lilting waltz, and Winston took Mattie’s hand in his own, guiding her to the center of the room. He placed his hand gently on her waist, feeling the slight tremor in her body. “Just follow my lead,” he said softly.

And with that, they began to dance perfectly in step with each other, as if they were made for this very moment.

Mattie felt as if she were in a dream. She was in Winston’s arms as he led her gracefully around the room in the waltz. The way he gazed at her made her feel as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world. Despite her efforts to resist, the carefully constructed barriers she had built around her heart began to crumble, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

And that frightened her.

Could she truly risk letting Winston back into her heart, knowing what she did? He had kissed her and then treated her with cold disdain. Not that she planned to kiss him again. But heaven help her, she wanted to kiss him again. What was wrong with her? Her emotions were all over the place, and she couldn’t grasp what she wanted—or needed—when she was in Winston’s arms. His strong, comforting arms.

An overwhelming sense of panic washed over her. She couldn’t quite seem to catch her breath and she needed to stop this dance at once.

Mattie dropped her arms and stepped back.

Winston watched her with concern etched across his handsome face. “Are you all right, Mattie?”

The genuine concern in his voice was her undoing. She felt her face grow warm and brought her hands up to cover her reddening cheeks. “I am… tired.” Tired? Could she not have come up with a better excuse than that?

“Would you like to sit down?” Winston asked, his voice gentle.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Mattie replied quickly. “I think it would be best if I returned home and rested.”

Winston took a step closer to her, and she instinctively took a step back. She watched as his face fell, and her heart ached because of it. But it was better this way. If she let him back in, her heart may never recover when he inevitably left.

Mattie dropped into a curtsy. “Thank you for the dance,” she said, her voice barely steady, before she departed from the room.

Once she was alone in the corridor, she let out a breath that she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. How was it that she could long for Winston, knowing it was a terrible idea?

“Mattie… wait, please,” Winston called out after her .

Mattie’s steps faltered and she turned back to see Winston striding towards her.

Winston came to a stop in front of her but maintained a proper distance. “Did I say or do something to upset you?” he asked, his eyes imploring.

“No, you did not, my lord,” she said, trying to maintain her composure. She couldn’t tell him the truth. Not now. Not ever. It would be too humiliating.

He lifted an eyebrow. “My lord?” he repeated with a hint of amusement. “No, I am Winston. Just Winston.”

Despite herself, she smiled at him. “My apologies,” she murmured.

Taking a step closer to her, Winston’s eyes remained locked on hers as he said, “I enjoyed our dance, and I look forward to dancing with you in Town.” He paused. “Assuming you will have time for me when you are surrounded by your suitors.”

“I will always make time for you, Winston,” Mattie said softly, her heart in her throat.

“And I you,” he replied, his voice equally soft and sincere.

Mattie held his gaze and she saw far more than she wanted to see. In his eyes, she saw herself—vulnerable, hopeful, and perhaps, just perhaps, capable of love once more.

Winston smiled, and all her defenses melted away. “It is a shame that you are tired because our gardens are quite beautiful.”

She knew she should leave, but she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to Winston. As much as she wanted to push him away, her heart was trying to pull him back in. “I suppose we could take a short walk,” she responded.

“I would like that,” Winston said, offering his arm.

Mattie accepted his arm and they walked towards the rear of the manor. A footman opened the door for them and then discreetly followed them onto the veranda.

As they started walking down the path, Winston gestured towards the roses. “These are my mother’s beloved roses. I do believe she loves them more than she does her own children.”

She laughed. “I daresay you exaggerate. I have never seen a mother dote more on her children than Lady Dallington.”

“What can I say? We are easy to love,” Winston joked. He ran his finger along the stem of a rose. “I find it fascinating that something so beautiful as a rose grows on thorns.”

“It is a way to protect itself.”

“True, and that is where we are similar,” Winston said. “I have fought so hard to prove myself that I feel as if I have surrounded myself with thorns.”

Mattie reached out and touched the soft petals of a rose. “Thorns can be removed,” she remarked.

“Yes, they can, but it can be a painful process,” Winston said.

“Only for people that are afraid of being pricked,” Mattie retorted. “But I believe that some things are worth a moment of pain.”

Winston turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “How is it that you know precisely what to say to speak to my heart?”

Mattie shrugged, pretending that his words did not affect her. “I suppose it is because I am very wise,” she teased.

“That you are,” he agreed, hesitating. “Mattie… I am grateful for this moment alone… with you.”

As he uttered his words, Mattie saw Matilda jump up on her bench, sprawling out lazily. She pointed to the goat, and said, “It would appear that Matilda is in need of a rest.”

Winston followed her gaze. “Yes, I do wish that Mr. Warren wouldn’t let Matilda roam free in our gardens.”

“I just adore Matilda,” Mattie said.

“Matilda is just a goat,” Winston teased.

Mattie grinned. “I saw Matilda perched in a tree yesterday,” she said. “She bellowed at me as I passed.”

Winston turned back to face her, his expression growing serious again. “Yes, well, I was hoping to speak to you, and it wasn’t about Matilda.”

Her heart raced as she sensed the gravity of what he was about to say. “What did you wish to speak about?”

He took a deep breath. “Mattie, do you ever think of that kiss?”

Every day.

But she didn’t dare admit that.

She nodded. “I do, on occasion,” she replied, attempting to keep her voice steady.

Moving closer to her, he said, “That kiss changed everything for me… for us. It made me realize that I cared for you, far more than I ever cared for another.”

Mattie’s heart swelled with emotion, but fear still lingered. “Winston, if that was the case, why did you treat me so terribly after?”

“It was because you ignored my letter, but I am willing to move past that?—”

She furrowed her brows. “What letter?” she asked, interrupting him.

“The letter I delivered to your cottage,” Winston replied. “The one I wrote the night we kissed.”

“I received no such letter,” Mattie assured him.

Winston pressed his lips together. “But I handed it to Miss Emma, and she assured me that she would deliver it to you.”

“She never gave me a letter,” Mattie asserted.

A look of palpable relief came to Winston’s features. “For so long, I have thought the worst of you, but I was wrong to do so. I thought… you didn’t care.”

Mattie looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Her walls were crumbling, and despite the risks, she knew she had to take the chance. “Winston, I care for you, more so than I should admit.”

Winston reached out and gently took her hand. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that.”

She took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of hope and apprehension. “Dare I ask what was in that letter?”

As he opened his mouth to reply, the sound of slow clapping echoed from behind them.

Mattie turned her head to see Isaac standing a short distance away, a pistol tucked in the waistband of his trousers.

“That was beautiful,” Isaac mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I have been waiting for the moment when you two finally succumbed to your feelings.”

Winston moved to stand in front of her. “Get off my property.”

Isaac retrieved his pistol and pointed it at Winston, his eyes cold. “You are not in a position to make demands here. It is my turn now.”

“What do you want?” Winston asked, his voice steady despite the threat.

Taking a step closer to them, Isaac growled, “I want my wife and son back.”

“Never!” Winston exclaimed.

“Then I shall be content with Miss Bawden,” Isaac said. “Move aside, my lord.”

Winston stood his ground. “Miss Bawden is going nowhere with you.”

Isaac looked amused. “Did you think I came alone?” he asked. “If so, you would be sorely mistaken. I have taken the liberty of making the guard following Miss Bawden to be indisposed at the moment.”

“Did you kill him?” Winston demanded, his eyes narrowing.

With a mock look of innocence, Isaac replied, “I am not a monster. No, he should wake up soon enough with a pounding headache.”

Mattie turned her head towards the veranda where the footman was stationed and saw he was being held by gunpoint by a short, stout man .

“Miss Bawden, will you step forward, please?” Isaac asked, his voice dangerously polite.

Winston swiped his hand in front of him. “Absolutely not!” he exclaimed. “If you want Miss Bawden, you are going to have to kill me first.”

Isaac cocked the pistol. “My pleasure, my lord.”

Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Mattie moved to stand in front of Winston and put her hands up. “Do not hurt him.”

“What are you doing, Mattie?” Winston asked, his voice filled with anguish. “You can’t go with him.”

She turned back to face him, her eyes pleading for him to understand. “I couldn’t live with myself if you were killed because of me,” she insisted.

Isaac’s taunting voice reached their ears. “We can end this song and dance right now if you will give me Sarah and Matthew.”

“No, I would die first,” Winston said, his voice unwavering.

With a sigh, Isaac remarked, “We are back to you dying, then.” He paused, and his voice grew stern. “Time is up. Give me Miss Bawden.”

Winston took a commanding step towards Isaac, but Mattie placed a hand on his chest, stilling him. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“I won’t let him take you,” Winston responded, his eyes blazing with determination.

“He has a pistol,” Mattie pointed out. “And I do not think it would take much for him to kill you.”

Winston looked at her incredulously. “I can’t lose you… not now.”

Isaac stepped forward and grabbed Mattie’s arm, yanking her back. “If you want Miss Bawden back, you know what you have to do.”

Winston’s voice grew thunderous. “If you hurt Miss Bawden?—”

“That is entirely up to you, my lord,” Isaac spat out. “It is your fault that it has come to this.”

Mattie tried to remove her arm from Isaac’s grip, but he held firm, his grasp tightening painfully.

“Please,” she implored, her voice cracking. “Do not hurt him. I will go with you, just don’t harm him.”

“Wise choice,” Isaac declared. “Now, let us be on our way before I lose my patience.”

As Isaac started to lead Mattie away, Winston’s voice rang out in a desperate shout, “No! You can’t have Miss Bawden. I won’t let you.”

“He is rather stubborn, is he not?” Isaac muttered under his breath, his tone laced with irritation, before pointing the pistol at Winston and firing.

Mattie gasped in horror as Winston let out a pained groan and clutched his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. “What have you done?” she shouted as she tried to free herself from Isaac’s unyielding hold. “Winston!”

Isaac dragged her towards a coach a short distance away and tossed her inside. He followed her in and sat down on the bench. The coach jerked forward, jostling them both.

“It is much more comfortable on the bench than the ground,” Isaac joked.

She moved to sit across from Isaac and asked, “How could you? You promised you wouldn’t hurt him.”

“I lied,” Isaac admitted callously. “Besides, you should be thanking me that I only shot him in the shoulder.”

Mattie glared at him, her voice trembling with indignation. “Thank you?” she repeated. “What kind of man are you?”

Isaac’s expression hardened, his jaw set firmly. “A desperate one,” he retorted curtly. “I will do whatever it takes to get my family back. ”

“This isn’t the way,” Mattie protested. “Hurting people won’t bring them back to you.”

Isaac leaned back in his seat, his expression unwavering. “You don’t understand, Miss Bawden. Lord Winston took everything from me. He will pay, one way or another.”

Mattie’s heart ached for Winston, who had been left behind wounded and vulnerable. She could only hope he would find a way to follow and rescue her. “Lord Winston is a good man?—”

Isaac’s bitter laugh cut her off. “Good men do not steal other men’s wives,” he shot back. “And now, you are my leverage. He will give me what I want, or he will lose you.”

The coach continued along the rough road, the wheels rattling loudly and the pace relentless, jolting Mattie against the hard seat. She gripped the edge of the bench tightly, trying to steady herself as she took deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She needed to stay composed and find a way to escape.