AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"M'lady, has something happened? Should we turn around?" he queried, full of worry.
"No! No," she shouted insistent, her voice wracked and ragged from the warbling of her angry, melancholy voice. "We've got to see Lord Beckham. He needs to speak with me, to answer for... for this," she said, voice harsh and shrill, waving the contract - she'd taken it with her, if only to throw it into his face as she cried at the loss of love.
"M'lady—he's asked for your hand in marriage, hasn't he?" Egan questioned curiously.
"It's not that simple, Egan. To him, I'm just a convenient excuse for his guilty conscience, for taking advantage of his sister - and this... this contract, it's just him relieving himself of guilt for taking advantage of me," she shouted.
"M'lady, I'm... isn't that what you... wanted? To have a man in marriage, but not to stifle your life?" Egan questioned. She swallowed hard; her throat hurt from the shouting, and the tears, but she had to say it; if only to hear herself say the words aloud.
"I... I don't want that, Egan. I love him," she said, quivering. Surprise in the portly porter's face, he turned to the horses, coaxing them along the roadway faster.
"We'll get you to the manor, m'lady," Egan called back to her, the horses picking up pace until they practically bounded forward, along the hills and rocky roadways, the carriage bouncing wildly along the path. The vehicle came to an abrupt stop as Egan called out to the creatures who whinnied loudly, the creaking wheels spinning their last as the hasty chauffeur unlatched the carriage door.
"Tell him that, m'lady," Egan pleaded. "Tell him. Any lord who would turn down true love - he doesn't deserve you, Nadia. Tell him." She nodded to Egan, who bowed; the doors swung open, and Ms. Cauthfield emerged from the manor; when she saw Nadia, a wanting sympathy filled the old woman's face as she dashed across the yard.
"Lady Havenshire, Lord Beckham has..." Ms. Cauthfield sniffled. "He... he thought you would come to see him, but he's requested... no visitors, at this time. He's had a difficult time—"
"HE'S had a difficult time?" Nadia exclaimed, the tears still staining her eyes red. Ms. Cauthfield, face full of regret, full of worry for her master, shook her head.
"Has he not told you about Anna? About his wedding, in the Delshire Moors? About..." Ms. Cauthfield appeared broken, fearful. "I told him... he needed to get past it. I told him, but he never did. And now he hates himself, and won't have a word with you, Nadia."
"Ms. Cauthfield, I love him," Nadia urged. "
I... I truly do love him." Ms. Cauthfield's face lit up when she heard Nadia's exclamation; she smiled, even as tears began to stream from the old woman's face.
"He shall have my head for this, but... I'm not going to stop you from speaking with him," Ms. Cauthfield said, sniffling. "Go, please... talk to him. Try to break him from this spell that's driven him to despair... please," she muttered. Nadia pressed past the old woman and to the front door, pull it open with a flourish, a sudden spark of hope glimmering in her eye. They could talk; he would be reasonable, wouldn't he? After all... she loved him.
"Nadia, I should have expected you'd come, and that... Ms. Cauthfield, bless her, would think it best if I saw you, in spite of my wishes," Lord Beckham announced, standing at the stairwell of his grand foyer. He sighed, his voice not that booming, enthralling baritone she had so enjoyed in their first meetings. No, now it felt like a simple shell, a show of false-authoritativeness put on to convince listeners of his sincerity. "M'lady, I don't think... we have much to speak about. Has your father given you the contract? I do believe he... signed it, after I left," Lord Beckham asked. A sea of maidservants and house staff stood at the base of the steps, pretending to work; in truth few of them could pay attention to their duties, as their attention slipped away to the exchange between the nobles instead.
"Lord Beckham, I don't understand—we need to speak about this... contract," she said, the word slithering with venom.
"What's not to understand?" he said, brooding, watching farmers and ranchers and workers out on the moors beyond through his window. "I thought this was... well, precisely what you and your father have been looking for. Your freedom... the freedom you deserve as a grown woman. A freedom from the cage you were unfortunately born in to. Your father agreed. It'd be for the best."
"My father agreed? My father agreed because he's an ailing old man! He wants me to be happy, and this isn't happiness!" Nadia shouted.
"It's precisely everything you wanted - and you won't have to deal with me at all. No men to control you - not even I can do that, with the terms I've written here. And I don't want to cage you. I don't expect that of you, or any woman. I'm not worth that," Lord Beckham scoffed dismissively.
"You're not worth... I love you!" Nadia exclaimed angrily. A quiet murmur sounded from the maidservants, who all watched with rapt eyes. "Have you in your stubborn, stupid mind forgotten the things we said together? The feelings that we felt? Was it a lie?"
"I..." Lord Beckham hesitated; he saw the pain he'd wrought, and began to reconsider... if only for a second. His expression vexed, brow furrowed, he turned away. "I can't do that."
"All I am is a convenient excuse for you, then? A way to ease your guilty conscience?" Nadia asked accusingly. "Is that what matters to you, more than my love? To ease the painful memory of your sister, estranged from you over this sordid mess of an estate? To ease the pain you feel about your past?"
"You are not an excuse," Lord Beckham began to grow angrily resenting at the accusations. "I've done this for you. For your own good. For everything you want. I'm not what you think I am; I'm not what you want," he roared.
"You've spent so much time convincing yourself of that that even love can't break this disgusting self-loathing!" Nadia shouted, storming up the stairs towards him. "I'll not let it happen. This contract - here! I'll not be a party to your self-destruction, Marshall," her voice raised higher and hotter, and with all eyes on her she threw it at his feet. "You lied to me. You used me!"
"I did not use you!" he retorted, turning to face her, his expression torn, shredded by hatred. She could see pain beneath, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.
"You took my virginity! Is that all I was meant to do for you?" The revelation sent a wave of shocked gasps through the assembled crowd of maidservants, their eyes wide. "Is that what you had searched for? And now that you've gotten it, you're quite content, aren't you? That's all you needed," she sneered.
"That had nothing to do with... with any of this, though I... I regret taking you, in that manner," he admitted painfully. "It was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened, and I shouldn't have let it happen. I'll never be good enough for—"
"For what? For me? I said I love you! Am I not the person to make the determination of who is good enough, and who is not?!" Nadia shouted, stamping her shoe's heel into the contract. "I can choose whomever I wish to be good enough for me! Or perhaps you're just like the other men, thinking yourself above a woman? Thinking yourself better equipped to make her decisions for her?"
"And with every word you speak you only prove to me that I made the right decision with that contract - that I've failed you, just as I failed before, and just as I will always fail," he rumbled.
"Why have you set yourself so stringently on this path, Marshall? Why?" Nadia pleaded, tears flowing freely along her cheeks now. "You feel it inevitable that you will fail. Any trouble that befalls you is evidence of that failure; any good fortune is simply luck, or happenstance. You've dedicated yourself so completely to this lie that you'd break my heart for it," she sobbed.
