Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

A lex sat in his office, deliberating over the most recent letter from his steward. He'd done a good deal of that lately, and he did not like that his life had taken such a turn that such deliberating was required. The letter was nothing special, just an update on the potential selling off of some of their farmland at the estate. But it was the receiving of this letter that let Alex know it held the very thing to put his marriage on track and give him hope of harmonious living with his wife.

He needed to return to Markham Estate.

The thought made his insides churn. His childhood home did not hold many happy memories for him. Every room and corridor had been marred by his father's bitterness or his mother's tears. And it wasn't just the memories that haunted him. He had never been fully healthy in that place. Growing up as a sickly boy, he hadn't been able to defend his mother as he should have. It was only after he went off to school and grew into a man that Alex was able to leave Wiltshire, secure his own townhome and provide a safe keeping for his mother and sisters until the cruel old man died .

Alex didn't want to go back, but he needed to. He owned something that could provide a peaceful bridge between him and his wife. She could use a place for her beloved horse to roam free, and he just so happened to be in possession of acres and acres of land. Brighton might be important to him, but it was nothing to her, so he would need to do this. Showing some effort in her wants and needs would hopefully make a difference in their ongoing battle of wills, even if it meant sacrificing his own wishes in the process. He had made what felt like progress from his apology that night, and he wanted to continue in that same direction, not give up a white flag of defeat. He could not give in to the idea of separation. Not yet.

There were many things that could keep him in London. Mostly being that of securing a good standing with the Grishams again for his sister's sake, no matter how long it might take. But Edwina might have to wait until Alex could be certain where he stood with his wife.

The clock struck the hour, reminding Alex it was nearly past breakfast. He'd spent most of the morning ruminating, completely missing the growl of his stomach.

He reached for his coat and hurried down the corridor to the breakfast room, where he found his wife already there, still eating. His stomach churned with nerves as she raised her eyes to him.

Alex gave her a bow. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she responded.

Alex silently filled his plate, his heart pounding as he considered his next choice of words. Would she only hate him further if he refused her?

Taking his seat, Alex inhaled a breath. "I have taken some time to consider your request."

Her eyes shot up. "You have?"

Alex nodded. "And I would ask for your patience before we resort to such measures, as I have a counteroffer."

Her shoulders fell. "I see."

"I would like to invite you to join me at Markham Estate."

Her expression changed, the emotion in her eyes flickering as she took in the information. "Your country home?"

"Yes. And if it is your horse that you miss, then we can arrange for the duke to send your mare to Wiltshire."

"Oh." She nodded slowly in response. And then as if her curiosity got the better of her, her blue eyes brightened. "Are you certain? You had a hearty dislike of the place, as I recall."

"Yes, I do not visit often, but I believe you should have an opportunity to see your other home, so that way you can meet the staff and become familiar with that part of the country. Have you ever been to Wiltshire?"

"No, never." She bit her lip, eyes on the wall. "When would we leave?"

Alex had to fight off a smile, grateful she was not as averse to the idea as he'd anticipated. In fact, she seemed almost excited. "If you are not opposed, then we can confirm the transportation of the horse with the duke. And I can send word to my steward that we will arrive within the week."

"Yes, that would be agreeable." The corners of her lips turned upward, which was more of a smile than he had ever seen in her before, and for the moment, it was enough. "Thank you."

Mrs. Westcott stood, any meal on the table forgotten, for she now had a faraway look in her eyes. "Oh, how long do you think we'll be gone? I will need to write to inform my friends."

Alex paused, for he didn't want to spend any more time than necessary at Markham Estate. "A fortnight, if you wish?"

"Yes, that will do quite nicely." She stepped away from the table, but before she turned to leave, she gave him a nod of appreciation. "Thank you, Mr. Westcott."

Again his heart stuttered. "It is my pleasure, Mrs. Westcott. "

Then she hurried away, and for once, Alex was left with a smile of his own, even though he knew that this trip would be the opposite of his pleasure.

With every passing mile closer to Markham Estate, Alex could feel himself withdrawing. It was a full day's journey to Wiltshire from London, and he had not known what to expect of spending so much time in company with his wife. They had begun the trip in silence, but their limited conversation was not as difficult as it had been before, and did not bear any begrudging tone in her voice. But still Mrs. Westcott did not smile, and when Alex's responses became fewer, eventually she returned to her silence and took to napping. As each hour ticked by, Alex could feel the dread settling over him like a blanket of darkness.

The city roads faded to country paths that were just as familiar, but with vastly different memories. Heading toward Markham Estate brought back to life the fearful sound of his father's voice, patriarchal dominance and drunken threats, alongside his mother's tearful prayers, and Alex's own spring and summer days spent in bed with the unnamed illness. There was nothing happy or worth remembering in his childhood home. He had hoped this trip would help him grow closer to his wife, and now he could only pray that such efforts would not be in vain, or that his nightmares would not consume him completely.

The sun had already taken to setting. A darkening sky over perfectly blooming country hills would have been a dream to anyone else, but Alex clenched his jaw and monitored his breathing to avoid facing what they represented. He did not fear the place itself, but he had no desire to linger at Markham Estate. Would this fortnight turn out to be an eternity ?

The carriage turned off the main road with a jumble, which woke Mrs. Westcott from her ill-positioned sleep.

"We've arrived," Alex said through gritted teeth, though he wished it would have sounded more civil.

Her face brightened, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and she straightened in her seat. "Thank you."

After the carriage had made its way down the long drive, the night's darkness made it near impossible to see anything out his window, for which Alex was grateful. But when the carriage came to a complete stop, his heart sank. He took a sharp inhale as the door opened, then he blindly took a step out and offered his hand to his wife. Alex did not want to face the grand building that loomed over his shoulder.

Mrs. Westcott stepped out and looked behind him. A small smile tugged at her lips. "Markham Estate is lovely."

Perhaps she was right, but he could not see it. "Come, let us go in."

He'd assumed the rest of the staff would have been out to greet them, but since night had fallen, it was only the butler and the housekeeper waiting with candles in hand.

"Meet Mrs. Westcott," Alex barked sharply, then reigned in his emotions before speaking again. "She is my wife, I presume you will treat her with the utmost respect, and see that the rest of the staff do the same as well."

Each elderly servant bowed and curtsied, and he went on.

"This is the housekeeper, Mrs. Barnes, and the butler, Nielson. They'll both be at your service."

"It is lovely to meet you, madam. And how good to see you again, young master." Even in the dark, it was obvious Mrs. Barnes saw him through the eyes of a grandmother, and Alex counted that as one positive trait for the place.

"Forgive my insistence, you will find it one of my prominent characteristics," Mrs. Westcott said, and somehow Alex already knew what she would say. "But has my horse arrived yet?"

Nielson shook his head. "Unfortunately not, madam. We've received word from Wynnwood Park that he should arrive any day."

"She," Mrs. Westcott gently corrected.

"Very good, mum," Nielson nodded. "She. I will be certain you are notified the moment she crosses onto the premises."

"Thank you."

"Come on in, then." Mrs. Barnes ushered them through the large double doors. "We'll have you washed and fed after your long travels."

As they stepped into the front foyer, it did not fill Alex with a sense of dread as he'd expected, and he noticed that everything did not seem as big as it had when he was a child. And yet, he was still overcome with a sense of smallness. He had never been able to prove he was a man here. Never been able to defend those he cared about or even take care of himself. It was a sense of powerlessness that made him want to weep, and the weight of their journey suddenly brought to light his very weary legs.

"Actually, I think I should like to rest for now," Mrs. Westcott said.

"Come then, I'll show you to your room." Alex picked up a nearby candle and motioned for her to follow, then turned to head up the grand staircase.

She did follow, albeit quietly. He did not want to disturb her taking in the surroundings, so he kept his eyes on his boots, not wanting to bask in it all with her.

Once upstairs, they moved down the corridor and passed many empty rooms. "You're welcome to explore to your heart's content in the morning. Mrs. Barnes can give you a tour. "

"Your family home is lovely," she commented behind him. "Why is it that you're never here?"

They reached the bedroom doors and he turned around, bearing the truth heavy on his tongue. "It is not a place with pleasant memories for me."

Her brightness dimmed. "Oh."

"Your room is here. Should you need anything, the staff will be at your disposal, or my room is just beyond the connecting door in your room."

She pursed her lips with a smirk. "Are you always to be on the other side of the door?"

"You are my wife now. Where else would I be?" Alex stated simply.

This raised her eyebrows. "Well, yes, of course. I only…" A beautiful blush crept over her cheeks. "I do not mean this harshly, but I have not changed my stance on the boundaries of our relationship."

Alex's shoulders drooped. He was too weary to deal with such things. He had no intention of seeking out her bed during their stay, but he could not bear another enemy in this house. It was here, more than anywhere else, that he needed her as his ally in order to overcome the lingering ghosts.

"Nor have I changed mine. I am not your adversary, Mrs. Westcott."

His words seemed to have a calming effect on her, for her eyes softened and she nodded. "I understand." Then she turned and opened the door to her room.

Alex stepped forward. "Perhaps it would help the situation if you were to use my given name. Would that make you more comfortable in my company?"

She paused, meeting his eyes as she placed a hand on the side of her large wooden door. "Perhaps."

He hoped she would. "And what shall I call you? "

"Mrs. Westcott, if you please," she spoke quietly, "but only for now."

Her words settled over him, providing the peace he sought. She wasn't quite ready to be his spouse and partner yet, but she could slowly let him in, and for now, that was enough.

"Good night, then, Mrs. Westcott."

She nodded, closing the door until only a sliver of her was still visible. "Good night, Alex."