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“And I cannot be there,” Rebecca said.
She didn’t need to say any more than that, for left unspoken was the fact that her ankle was, once again, prohibiting her from being in London with her sister, and not just to enjoy to the Season, but now, apparently, to witness and celebrate her sister’s marriage.
And Ben was responsible.
“But that is not the worst of it,” Rebecca said after a lengthy pause.
Ben tensed in anticipation of what could possibly be worse.
“The worst is that my first thoughts were of myself and not of Susan’s happiness.” Rebecca looked forlornly out at the pond, tearing another wound into Ben’s heart. “I wept until I was fatigued from my own selfish pain, and not for a moment did I consider that this is what Susan has waited thirty years to happen. I am the worst of sisters.”
“I believe your reaction is understandable, considering how unexpected the news about your sister must have been,” he said.
“You think so? I don’t,” she said. “Susan didn’t even wish to go to London, having given up on love and marriage years ago. She was going only because she wished to be my companion when Lady Walmsley offered to sponsor us.” She propped herself on her arms and leaned her head back to look up at the sky now, and Ben turned his gaze away from the tempting young lady next to him, inadvertently spying Annie in the distance, who was fortunately busy with her sewing. “I needed this bit of respite today, Ben,” Rebecca continued. “I had nearly forgotten how blue the midday sky can be. And only the puffiest of clouds, after so many gray days of rain. Thank you.”
“It was the least I could do,” he said softly. He meant his words to the depth of his soul.
“I have also learned that Mama was correct in telling me I was not allowed to travel with them. Our short drive in the phaeton has shown me that a two-day journey to London would be unwise when my ankle is just beginning to heal.”
“I’m glad I have been useful for something,” Ben said, not with a little irony.
She gazed at him, seeming to catch his tone. “We cannot change what is in the past, I suppose,” she said. “What is done is done. I am determined to look forward as best I can. I have not done a very good job of it thus far, but I vow to do better.”
“Ah, but can one say the same when the past holds a dead wife?” he asked her. “For, while we may choose to look forward, the past is part of us, and there are consequences that follow us into that future. What then?”
“I cannot answer that question without knowing more about your past and those consequences,” she said. “Perhaps it is time for you to tell me more about it, considering how much you know about me by now.”
“I suppose I owe you nothing less,” he said.
* * *
Rebecca waited patiently for Ben to begin speaking. She had concluded long ago that what he had to share was going to be difficult for him to express. Whywas he glad that his wife had died? Thatwas the question that troubled Rebecca the most, yet she also felt she could trust Ben’s character. It was a paradox.
“I shall start at the beginning but will be brief so I don’t lull you back into the slumber from which I awoke you earlier,” he said. “I am the only child of the former Earl of Winton, holding the courtesy title Viscount Embley until his passing when I was twenty-two. My childhood years were essentially happy, albeit lonely ones. My mother married two years after my father’s death and moved to Edinburgh with her new husband, the Earl of Kelso.
“As a result, I found myself alone, assuming my father’s duties in the House of Lords, with no family there to support me. It is a story much like many others; I recognize that I have not experienced something unique here. But if I am to be fully honest with you, I found myself suddenly thrust into the social Season with a new title and few around me to offer guidance. Not that I would have necessarily heeded any guidance offered—you know how young gentlemen can be.” He chuckled.
“I do,” Rebecca said. “I have five brothers, who, over the years, have clearly demonstrated the characteristics of young gentlemen you have alluded to.”
He chuckled again, which gave Rebecca a moment to ponder his words further.An essentially happy, albeit lonelychildhood, he’d said. Rebecca’s parents loved each other, she had seven siblings, and despite the teasing and bickering between them all while growing up, she knew her childhood had been completely happy and full of support. In fact, her elder brothers had frequently interfered in her life more than she’d liked and sometimes still did, as older brothers who thought they knew everything were wont to do. Her childhood had been completely, notessentially, happy. And definitely not lonely.
Her heart broke for him.
“And so,” he continued at length, “when the darling of the Season, the dazzling Miss Gemma Crawford, began paying particular attention to me, I was exceedingly flattered and entirely taken with her. It was also somewhat of a relief to settle on one young lady and court her, as it freed me from female attention that had begun to grow tiresome. Gemma and I married at St. George’s that summer and returned to Winton Court soon afterward.
“I soon realized, however, that the beautiful and charming Miss Crawford I had courted was not precisely the same person she was once she became Countess of Winton,” he said. “She became rather indifferent to me, beginning not long after our marriage.”
So far in their acquaintance, Ben had either drawn Rebecca in or made her want to throttle him. She could not envision anyone being indifferent to the gentleman who sat beside her. “How lonely you must have felt,” she said. In an impulsive move, she reached over and laid her hand on his, which he immediately took fully into his own.
Lightning streaked up her arm.
“Such human tenderness as comes from something as simple as a touch,” he murmured. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a small kiss upon it and then released it and rose to his feet. She looked at him and then looked at her hand, expecting it to be on fire.
“There is more, however,” he said.
“I am listening.” Listening was not the problem at the moment.Concentratingon what he was saying had gotten much more difficult, however.
“Yes,” he said in a low, thoughtful voice. “And I thank you for that.”
