Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

THEIR TWO WEEKS in Greenock had flown by, Syd realized as she spent the last few days visiting the new friends she had made here. It was said that no Scot would ever consider anyone a true friend until they had known that person for over a dozen years. But Syd felt truly welcomed into the Greenock community. She understood it was sensible to be wary of strangers, and that the span of time would bring out the good and bad in anyone, revealing their true nature. But these rules seemed to fall aside because she was so quickly accepted as one of their own.

This was something new for her.

Other than her friendship with Adela, Gory, and Marigold, she had never felt accepted by London society, and especially never her parents. For this reason, she was loathe to leave Scotland, even though she missed her three friends and her work at the Huntsford Academy.

She and Octavian now maintained a surprisingly busy social life in this quiet port town. She had grown quite friendly with several of the villagers from Miss Granger, the seamstress, to Lady Lennox, who was the grande-dame of Greenock society and had taken a liking to Syd, claiming that Syd reminded her of herself in her younger days.

Syd was also warmed by how easily the locals accepted her love of medicine and desire to learn. Unlike those in England who imposed stiff rules and moral regulations designed to keep a woman in her place, these Scots admired anyone who yearned for higher learning.

While Octavian busied himself with plans for the harbor and expanding the shipbuilding operations, she had gone to local lectures hosted by Lady Lennox, taken hikes along coastal paths with the Greenock bird-watching society, and even followed the local doctor and midwife on their round of calls. She was accepted by everyone without so much as the blink of an eye, most surprisingly receiving the praises and warm regard of the doctor and midwife. She learned so much about the natural healing arts from each of them.

But her greatest pride was in being able to teach the villagers, especially these local healers, a few things she had discovered during her forensic studies at the Huntsford Academy. The academy was the museum and center for scholastic studies that Octavian's brother, Ambrose, Duke of Huntsford, had established to honor their father.

The Huntsford Academy was situated across from the British Museum and was just as renowned, for visitors came from all over the world to view the ancient creatures her friends, Adela and Marigold had discovered buried in Adela's Devonshire caves. Their Dragons of the Ancient World exhibits were all the rage in London.

She shook out of her wandering thoughts upon spotting Octavian walking up the street toward her as she was returning from assisting the local midwife in a birth. Her eyes must have been alight and her cheeks glowing because Octavian's smile was particularly affectionate when he saw her. "You look happy, Syd."

She nodded, for she was content in so many ways, not the least of which was their sham marriage that had felt blissfully real ever since arriving in Greenock. Sharing Octavian's bed every night, enjoying his touch, and waking in his arms was beyond perfection. She dreaded its idyllic end, for that feeling of doom had not left her despite how happy she was.

Something terrible was going to happen upon their return to London and she had no idea what it was or how to prevent it from occurring. "I assisted in a birth," she said proudly. "It was amazing, Octavian."

His smile turned tender and indulgent. "Nicer than working on cadavers?"

"Much nicer," she admitted, letting out a lengthy breath of laughter that formed a vapor as she exhaled because the day was surprisingly cold for this time of year. However, she was prepared for the weather now that she had five new gowns, several of them of softest merino wool from the sheep Mr. Campbell still would not sell to her. "Were you looking for me?"

He nodded and took her arm to lead her back to the inn.

They had kept matters simple and chosen to remain at the Seafarer's Inn since they were quite comfortable there and did not need more than a bedchamber for themselves. "I've just heard news about your father," he said as they neared the inn.

She paled and gripped his arm. "And?"

"It is all good, Syd," he assured, stopping along the bustling street to place a comforting hand over hers. "He wasn't hurt. Sir Henry did not harm him. They merely parted ways and your father set off by himself, imposing upon friends and acquaintances while he made his way home."

"Are you certain?"

He nodded. "I expect he's made it safely back to London by now, at no cost to himself."

She shook her head and gave a mirthless laugh. "So typical of my father. He never pays his own way. But I am relieved he is safe. However, you do not look pleased. What else was said in the report?"

"You mistake my expression. I am pleased he wasn't hurt, but he hasn't changed his ways, Syd. I expect he will disrupt our lives again soon."

She groaned while nodding in agreement. "What happened?"

"The Armstrong clan assisted in the search when the Moffat constable and his men arrived in Gretna Green. Several of Laird Armstrong's men rode south into England and caught up with your father at one of the local inns just across the border. He was playing cards and probably cheating the other players since they reported he was on a remarkable winning streak."

Syd sighed. "Typical."

"But he is safe, and this is what matters. As for the Armstrong men, perhaps I misjudged them. They did us a good turn."

"And now I feel worse for not obtaining Mr. Campbell's sheep for them. That man is such a stubborn clot. He is quite galling. And those sheep aren't even legitimately his. He stole them out of Spain."

Octavian grinned. "The Armstrongs will survive the disappointment since it will be softened with my news. The Greenock harbor meets our requirements, so we are going to build two navy battleships here to start. Probably more will be ordered in the years to come. That means we'll need men to build them. Locals will be hired, of course. But I'm also going to offer jobs to more of the Armstrong men. At least ten, to start. Perhaps more, depending on the local shortage."

"Octavian, that's wonderful," she said with genuine cheer.

"I'll put Jamie in charge because of his experience and knowledge of seamanship. He's a good man and can be trusted. I just hope the laird's son isn't among those choosing to work here. That one's trouble."

Syd nodded. "Let's hope his father decides to keep him close to home since he is next in line to be laird of their clan."

"It is not a given," Octavian said when they resumed walking to the inn. "A clan can vote for someone else to take over the role if they find the son lacking. Their hierarchy does not work the same as our order of ranks and titles that are pretty much carved in stone. A Scottish duke or earl is secure in his title which is granted through Letters Patent by the monarch. Those usually contain terms requiring passage of the title and entailed estate by primogeniture to the eldest son. But a clan laird does not receive any such grant of title. He has no guarantees that his eldest son will be next to succeed him."

Syd was fairly well versed in such matters and had done quite a bit of reading about Scotland, especially in the field of medicine, long before their mad dash to elope. She already knew this about Scottish traditions, but did not interrupt Octavian because she enjoyed listening to him speak. There was much she still did not know, so she made it a daily practice to read up on as much history as she could while here.

She planned to do the same upon their return to England because she expected Octavian would be dashing back and forth between London and Greenock, and she hoped to join him on each trip. The inn had a small library and she often spent time in there reading everything she could find. She had even developed an interest in novels and poetry written by Scottish authors and poets.

In truth, she was developing a love for the area and its people, finding a tolerance in them and a freedom for herself that she had never experienced in London.

When they reached their bedchamber, Octavian showed her the correspondence he had received from the Armstrong laird and another from the constable. "Thank you for this, Octavian. It is a great weight off my heart."

He stared at her a moment and grunted. "But you are still troubled. Why, Syd? Sir Henry is dead…" He paused another moment to clear his throat. "By the way, the official report states he was shot by persons unknown in an apparent robbery attempt. This is what was sent to the London magistrate by the constable in the hope of closing the investigation."

"And that is as it shall remain," Syd assured him. "I will never say or do anything to bring harm to the Douglas family. That beast would have killed young Matthew had he not been interrupted by the older brother. It is best to point the finger at no one."

Octavian nodded. "Yet, you are still fretting. What is wrong, Syd? I thought the news would please you."

"It does." She took a moment to wash her hands properly since she hadn't had the chance to do more than rinse them lightly after assisting in the birth. "It pleases me immensely. But we will be returning to London the day after tomorrow and…"

He arched an eyebrow. "Is it the sheep?"

She laughed lightly. "No, although it does irk me that Mr. Campbell will not sell me a single one. That man is stubborn."

"And you're not?" Octavian grinned and gave her a light kiss on the lips. "He's just protecting his business, even though it is a business built on stolen goods. No competitors means higher prices for him. Basic economic theory. What really irks you is that you could not sway him. Rest assured, not even Methuselah haranguing him for a thousand years would have accomplished it. The Armstrongs will get their sheep, albeit not the prize merinos."

"It isn't that, Octavian." She dried her hands, then sank onto the bed and sighed.

He settled beside her, his closeness quite comforting to her. "Then what? Tell me, love."

She stared into the silvery embers of his eyes and saw the depth of his concern reflected in them. " Love ," she said in a soft voice. "This is what you affectionately call me. It is my greatest joy and also my greatest worry. We've gotten along remarkably well these past few weeks, haven't we?"

He nodded. "It's been wonderful for me, Syd. That's the honest truth."

"For me, too. Here we are in a bedchamber that is so small we cannot turn around without bumping into each other, in a town that is hardly a speck on a map, and I feel freer than I ever have felt in my life. I was sure our marriage would be nothing but constant bickering, but we've hardly had any disagreements." She let out a breathy sigh. "Knowing you are beside me is nourishment to my soul, Octavian. I had no idea how starved I was for it until you came along."

He regarded her with obvious surprise, saying nothing for a long moment. This was her fault. She so rarely reciprocated the loving gestures. But he must have seen into her heart because a slow smile crept across his face. "How is my making you happy a bad thing?"

"It isn't. But this dark cloud of dread will not leave me." She searched his expression, hoping he might know the answer to this worry that plagued her. But how could he when she could not explain it herself? "I hope it is just me being afraid to accept this affection growing between us. It is such a wonderful feeling."

"But?"

"This sense of doom will not leave me. It is like a sword hovering over my head and just waiting to drop on me. I wish we could stay here and never return to London. Is it horrible of me to admit I would not care if I ever saw my parents again?"

"They leave a lot to be desired, but I thought you loved them? You were so worried that Sir Henry had harmed your father. Does this sense of doom you feel concern them? Shall we talk about it, Syd?"

"That's just it. I don't know to begin to explain it. What I feel does concern my parents, but only in the sense they will play a part in my undoing. Hasn't my father already wreaked havoc on our lives?"

Octavian nodded. "I don't think I can ever forgive him for trying to sell you to Sir Henry."

She felt the anger seethe inside of him at the reminder of what had brought them to this point. She was also angry, but much of it was tempered by her love for her father. Yet, she also felt so much resentment. Perhaps this is why she was overset, this mix of feelings so at odds with each other. "What worries me most is that something terrible is going to happen to split you and me apart once we are back in London. I am usually so logical, but I cannot make sense of this foreboding."

He cleared his throat. "Syd, do not get angry with me…but you are not always as sensible or logical as you think you are. There's a depth of feeling in you that often controls your actions and compels you to do things that are not always wise or safe."

"Which you refer to as rash and foolhardy," she said with some dismay. "But it is not so. I am logical. However, it is merely a logic different from yours."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You took risks for your friends and charged into places where you should not have gone."

"I had to help Adela, and would do so again if the need arose. Same for helping Marigold. Gory never needed my help, but I would have done whatever I could for her if ever it was necessary."

"Then let's hope it is never necessary," Octavian grumbled. "I do not ever wish to see you hurt."

"I know. You have always been my protector, although I never understood why you ever bothered with me when you had women aplenty fawning over you. Not to mention, the gossip rags were all reporting that you and Lady Clementine were an item."

"We were never an item," he insisted.

Syd regarded him dubiously. "Perhaps not in your mind, but everyone else thought you were going to offer for her. However, my point is that Adela, Gory, Marigold and I are a sisterhood, and each of us would not hesitate to run to the aid of whichever of us was in trouble. Oh, and that isn't the point I was trying to make, either."

He nodded. "You are trying to make sense of your feeling of doom."

"Yes, and it is this inability to understand why I feel the way I do that troubles me. My skin prickles. I shiver at the thought of returning to England. I want to cling to these days of bliss so fiercely because I know they will disappear once we are back in London. Is it just me being foolish? Or am I sensing something real?"

"It is real in that you are dealing with a new experience and struggling to accept it."

"New experience?"

"That of a normal family life. The life you deserved but was always denied to you. Throughout your childhood, all you remember is having happiness snatched from you."

She nodded. "Yes, it was always this way."

"The impact on you was profound, Syd. Every time you felt safe or content, that feeling was soon upended by something your parents said or did. But I am here by your side now, aching to protect you and keep you safe. I'll be here forever if you want me to be."

Octavian had such a soothing way about him, providing a comfort and assurance she had never felt before. His kindness made her want to cry, for this was the push and pull inside of her. She wanted to reach for that happiness, but was so afraid it would be snatched from her grasp as soon as she let down her defenses.

For this reason, she was so afraid to open her heart.

But she was so ready to do so.

Octavian was her dream man, and she wanted theirs to be a true and loving marriage.

"Syd, do you want this, too?"

"Do I want us to be together forever?" She nodded. "I want this probably more than you. I am just so awful at showing it."

"Because you have always been disappointed when giving anyone– meaning your parents– your love. Now, you are struggling with giving your heart to me and having it crushed. Your fear will fade with time. It will fade," he insisted. "All you have to do is make our marriage real. Commit to me, Syd."

She dared not.

It still felt as though she was jumping into dark waters.

Dangerous waters where she might drown.

To give him her love, to accept this happiness, and then have it all cruelly taken from her…she would never recover from losing Octavian.

Octavian sighed and drew her into his arms when she buried her face in her hands to avoid his gaze. "I need more time, Octavian."

"All right, love."

But how much longer would he wait?

Did he mean it when he said forever?

Adela and Marigold had made happy marriages. They were in love with their husbands and completely committed to them, yet still maintained their own desires, hopes, and dreams. Neither of them, as far as she knew, ever walked around in fear of their marriage suddenly falling apart. They trusted their husbands and adored them.

She certainly felt the same way about Octavian.

Had she not always said she trusted him more than she trusted herself? No man was ever more worthy of her adoration. "Thank you for being so understanding, Octavian."

"I have no choice, Syd."

She lifted her head and turned to him. "What do you mean? Our marriage can still be annulled. You know I will not fight you if you decide to walk away."

"My heart will never allow me to walk away from you. How many times must I say it before you will believe me? I do not want to spend my life without you. So, you see. It is not about your taking the choice from me. I have already taken it away from myself."

"And you are waiting for me to do the same for myself."

He nodded. "You are the bravest girl I have ever met, Syd. Find the courage to make our marriage permanent and unbreakable."

She said nothing, now eager to see her friends when she returned to London and confide in them. They would help her find the courage to do what she already knew was the right step for her.

Octavian was convinced it was the right step for him, too.

She hated these doubts that were holding her back.

Octavian regarded her thoughtfully.

"Never mind," she said. "Let's prepare for Lady Lennox's dinner party. Which gown should I wear?" She left his side and crossed the small room to open the armoire and draw out her two evening gowns. She held them up against herself for his perusal. "The lilac or the rose?"

"The rose. It picks up the color in your cheeks."

"So, you don't like the lilac?"

He chuckled. "I like them both. But the lilac shows a little too much of your bosom, and I would rather not share your assets with others."

"It is modest by London standards of fashion. And I always wear it with a fichu, anyway."

"Then wear the lilac, but I prefer the rose."

"The rose, it is." She set about preparing for the evening.

He stretched out on the bed and watched her, his grin rakish and admiring as she slipped out of her day gown and began to wash up.

"Your assets are glorious, by the way."

She blushed. "Shouldn't you start getting ready?"

"No, it'll take me five minutes and we still have almost an hour before we have to be on our way. I'm enjoying the show."

"I'm going to hit you with this wet cloth if you don't behave. But I'm glad you like my body."

"That is an understatement. I cannot keep my hands off you whenever we are in bed together. Which brings up something that has been on my mind. What sleeping arrangements do you want for us when we return to London? We'll be staying with Ambrose and Adela for the moment, but we can search for a place of our own to let, if you prefer."

"I think it makes more sense to stay with Ambrose and Adela until your Admiralty assignment is better settled."

"Separate bedrooms?"

Her heart tugged. "If that is your wish."

He rose to come to her side, his magnificence hard to overlook while he stood so close. "You know it isn't. My preference is one bedchamber and one bed to share. You seem comfortable with this arrangement here, but London will be quite different for you, especially if we are not going to make our marriage real."

"I know." She set aside her wash cloth and turned to face him. "It is on my mind constantly, but can we please leave it unanswered for now? This feeling of dread that plagues me does not come from any doubts I have about you. The fear is of an outside force destroying our happiness."

"And you think that outside force will show itself once we are in London?"

She nodded.

He caressed her cheek. "All right, I'll leave it alone for now. You'll make the decisions once we are in London. Just keep in mind that we are stronger together than apart."

She melted into his arms when he put them around her. "It would be so much simpler if we hated each other."

"Syd, never say that."

"All right, I'm sorry. Let's hope for the best."

He kissed her on the brow and then eased away. "Come on, Cheerful. We'll be late if we don't get moving."

She laughed and flicked a few droplets of water at him. "You are the one who is moving slow as a turtle, you fiend."

Lady Lennox's dinner party was bittersweet and Syd felt more sentimental than usual. But she made it through the evening without bursting into tears or begging Octavian to leave her behind while he returned to London. Avoiding London would ease her feeling of doom, but it would also mean being without Octavian, and this felt even worse.

That night, she held onto him tightly.

Her dreams were full of gathering storms and howling winds roiling an angry sea. She was lost amid the vast sea, calling out for Octavian to save her from drowning, but he could not hear her as she drifted away from him. The harder she tried to swim back to him, the fiercer the current and tumultuous waves pulled them apart.

Then, she could no longer see him.

She began to shiver.

She would not stop shivering.

"Syd. Syd, love." She heard Octavian talking to her and realized he was trying to shake her awake. "Open your eyes, love. You're having a bad dream."

It took her a moment to shake out of her dream and regain her senses. "What?" She groaned. "What time is it?"

"Still early, sweetheart."

She noticed the grayness of the night and realized it was approaching dawn, but still too early even for the cock's crow.

"Rough night, Syd? Want to tell me about it?"

She snuggled against him and nodded. "Horrible night," she admitted. "I kept trying to swim to you but kept getting pulled away. It was awful. I kept losing you."

"I'm sorry, love. That's why you were crying out in your sleep."

"Yes. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. That's what I'm here for."

He was her wonderful protector, and now he had her cradled in his arms. "Octavian, I've come to a decision."

"You have? What decision might that be?" Although he sounded calm and revealed nothing in his expression, she felt his body tense and understood he was worried about what she was about to tell him.

"No separate bedchambers for us in London. We stay together, for you are my husband and I am your wife. Whatever our fate, we must face it together. You said last night that you cannot be apart from me. It is the same for me concerning you. This is what my horrible dream was about, the agony of not being with you."

"Blessed saints, Syd. Dare I ask? Are you ready to make this make-believe marriage real?"