Madeline responded in a calm, indifferent tone that made him doubt she could ever care for him the way he cared for her.
“I think you owe it to yourself to do the right thing.” She could not have been more cryptic.
“The right thing?” He heard the anger rising in his voice, but could do nothing to stop it. “What is the right thing, exactly? Marry Diana out of pity? Out of duty or guilt? I’ve already done that once in my life, and I promise you, it does not bode well for future happiness for either party involved. Besides, Diana already married a man who didn’t love her. I doubt she would be happy with a repeat of that particular past.”
“But perhaps you might grow to love her again. It was not that long ago that you wanted to—”
Adam dropped to one knee at her feet, to stop her from saying anything more. “This is difficult enough as it is, Madeline. What happened to Diana is killing me inside. I feel responsible, and yes, there is a part of me that thinks I should marry her, to try and make up for what happened. But I can’t let pity rule my head and my heart, for I would not be doing Diana any favors. I can’t change the fact that she was injured, no more than I can pretend to love her. She would know the truth, and it would chip away at her heart every day for the rest of her life until she knew nothing but misery. Diana may remain here as long as she wishes, and I will do everything in my power to give her all that she needs to get well—the best medical attention, the best food, the best entertainment to keep her spirits up. But I cannot marry her, Madeline. I will not make the same mistake twice in my life. It would be a disservice to both of us.”
He would have liked to add that he could not marry Diana—or anyone for that matter—because there was only one person in the world for him, and that person was Madeline. If circumstances were different, he would take her into his arms right now and never let her go.
Without revealing the slightest weakness or change of heart, Madeline simply nodded. “I understand. We’ll try to avoid the subject when we are with Diana, at least until she is stronger. We’ll continue as we were when Lord Blackthorne was here, and pretend everything is fine. I can do that. Can you?”
“It is more than clear to me that you can do it, Madeline. You seem completely in control of your emotions.”
Why did that bother him so bloody much? Would he have preferred her to melt into a puddle of tears and tell him she loved him, too, and cry over what could never be? Or to leap into his arms and beg him to hold her, just for one single, glorious moment? Or kiss her, just once again, as he had the night before?
That was whathewanted to plead for, why he was on his knee in front of her now, wanting to pull her closer and make promises he knew she would never let him keep….
“Iamin control of them,” she said, her tone disturbingly controlled. Madeline stood. “I’ve learned to keep my feelings to myself, and deal with them in my own way.”
She made a move to return to Diana’s room, but Adam stood and stopped her. He took hold of her arm and pulled her to face him. “Perhaps what you really need to learn is how to accept that you are worthy of love. Perhaps you need to learn how to open up to people.”
Her brow furrowed with incredulity, as if she could barely believe such a suggestion. “Why would I do that? It would be like opening a wound, when it’s much less painful to close it up and keep it that way.”
“Feelings are not wounds, Madeline.”
“They are to me, because love has only ever been painful. My feelings make me vulnerable, Adam, and lately, especially lately, I prefer to be impenetrable.”
She pulled away from him and he let her go. The door slammed closed behind her.
Later that morning, Jacob arrived to check on the family and inspect the marsh with Adam, who was still reeling with bewilderment over his conversation with Madeline. He was treading in strange territory, for Madeline was the complete opposite of Jane, who had wept and wailed over the smallest disappointment, or smashed things when she became frustrated or angry. He had always known where he stood with Jane, especially when he stood in the hall, locked out of their bedroom for the night.
Madeline’s composure and unwillingness to express any of her feelings, on the other hand, was beyond reserved or constrained—it almost seemed as if she was denying the fact that she had a heart.
Yet, over the past few weeks, he’d come to believe he’d found his true mate. He had been certain that what lived beneath Madeline’s polite exterior was perfection. They had everything in common. She always seemed so calm and levelheaded, which was one of the things he loved most about her.
How could his feelings have been real, if she had no heart and no affection for him in return? How could he feel so connected to her?
Perhaps it wasn’t real, he thought soberly. Perhaps he had been dreaming again, wanting what he wanted—the perfect woman—instead of what was real.
He and Jacob rode their horses to the top of the ridge to overlook the marsh below, and what they saw pulled Adam’s attention back to where it presently belonged: on his land and his livelihood.
That, at least, was something he could be sure was alltooreal.
Speechless, Adam and Jacob stared at the inconceivable scene while they each contemplated the enormous losses.
By the hour of the day, Adam knew that the tide had already receded but was now on its way back in. The damage to the dykes must have been substantial, he thought, for most of the great marsh was still flooded with seawater. The lush green grasses, the clover, the goldenrod—all that once fluttered and swayed in the wind—it was gone, completely submerged, transformed into a muddy brown swamp that produced a sickening stench and a dismal fog. Carcasses of dead cattle dotted the area, and fence planks lay scattered about, floating and bobbing in dirty, shallow pools. A number of hay barns lay in disordered piles of lumber. Others had simply vanished from where they had once been.
My whole world is in ruins.
“It’s a good thing we drove that herd to Halifax when we did,” Jacob said with quiet resignation, “or we would have lost everything.”
Adam clicked his tongue to urge his horse further along the top of the ridge. “It’s going to be a long winter.”
“What will we do for feed, Father?”
“We’ll get what we can from the uplands, and purchase the rest. It’ll be enough to get us through, though we won’t see any profit. We’ll all have to be frugal. No more pretty scarves for Mary, Jacob, or toys for the baby.”
