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“Perhaps.” How she’d managed to turn the tables on him so quickly, he’d never know, but perhaps now was a good a time as any to indulge in self-examination. “I told you that Mr. Davies was a major while I served in the cavalry, and I shared about how he made me feel small and worthless.”
“Yes, but that wasn’t the whole of what happened during that time, was it?”
“God, no.” He kicked at a collection of wildflowers and grunted when colorful petals fluttered into the air. “When my father bought me a commission and I went off to war with Lord Randolph, I thought myself invincible, that I’d make a difference while I was out there.”
“Yet no man ever has an inkling about what war truly means.” Anne matched his stride even though she was a good six inches shorter than he.
“Exactly. It took little time to realize that what I was being asked to do was not only overwhelming, but it was also morally wrong.” He thought carefully over his next words, for she’d either see him as a hero or a villain. “I refused to kill; that simply wasn’t the sort of man I was—am. The vast majority of us on those battlefields were afraid and didn’t want to be there. War wasn’t the lark we all thought and killing changes a man too much.”
“I can only imagine that from my own perspective because when Aaron died from my actions, I was beside myself. I changed that day. How you managed to survive what you did boggles my mind.”
“Death is death, no matter how it comes about.” Benedict nodded. “The first time I picked up a pistol with the intention of defending against an enemy, the man I killed happened to be a solider from my own regiment. It was an accident. Smoke and fog hovered over the battlefield. Chaos reigned. Men and horses were everywhere. Gunfire and cannon roars thundered through the area.” His chest hurt from the remembrance. The acrid scent of gunpowder and metallic smell of blood filled his nose. “I saw a shadow in the gloom and thought it was one of the French. I fired.”
“Oh, no.” Anne grabbed one of his hands. She threaded their fingers together. “I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”
“It was. I still have nightmares. They never go away, neither does the guilt.” His jaw clenched and he clung to her hand as if she offered the only lifeline. “I’ve never forgiven myself for what I did. After that, I tried to show my usefulness and heroics in rescuing my fellows from harm without using a weapon.”
“You did what you could with what you had, what you were able to do, and beyond that, you saved men. That alone is commendable.” She drew to a stop and faced him, searching his gaze with hers. “Surely you can see that.”
“Sometimes.” To his mortification, moisture pushed into his eyes. Though he tried to blink it gone, a few tears fell to his cheeks anyway. He looked away so she couldn’t see the weakness. “That’s how I earned my promotion to captain, but for the remainder of my commission, my cowardice was made worse by Mr. Davies’ taunting, made my guilt into fear of someone outside the military knowing my shame. I went back home knowing I’d essentially murdered a good man, and I will carry that secret to my grave.”
“Oh, Benedict, no. It was an accident. Anyone could have done the same.”
“Except, it was me.” Unable to wrangle his emotions under control, he glanced at her, accidentally peering into her eyes. Instead of the disdain or horror in those cornflower blue depths, he saw compassion and empathy. It almost sent him to his knees. “I am no hero, Anne. No matter how much good I did; I killed a man in error, and for that there is no absolution. I’m less than other men, a coward for my abhorrence at using a weapon or for not thinking violence is the answer like men at war are supposed to. I’m a weakened man who fears everything, who sees risks in the world and hides from it.”
“Only because you can’t see the wonderful man you are beneath that which broke you.” She caught his other hand in hers, insistently holding his gaze. “Find your courage, Benedict. It’s there, but you won’t let it rise because you’re afraid of making another mistake.”
How did she know him so well? Every beat of his heart hurt as if that organ was suddenly thawing after seemingly a lifetime of being frozen beneath the layer of fear he’d kept it under. “I don’t know if I can, for what if that next mistake is so big it can’t be rectified, like that man’s life I took.”
Or potentially putting her reputation at risk.
Anne bit her bottom lip, but a muffled sob still escaped. “Though I’m adamant mistakes are how we learn and grow, I understand what you’re saying. But you must know you’ll never kill anyone again. That’s not the man you are.”
“Agreed, yet that action is etched on my soul. For the rest of my life, I’ll always remember it, know that someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s father never came home because of me and my panic, my fear that made me act with haste.”
“Oh, you poor man.” Impulsive as always, she lifted on tiptoe and threw her arms around him. The faint floral scent of her wafted to his nostrils, gave him a modicum of peace as much as her arms around his shoulders did. “You and I shall work on your confidence and of overcoming that fear, of keeping it at bay.”
“Why?” He couldn’t help himself; he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. For one tiny second, he allowed himself to lean upon her boundless strength.
“You give me support; I’ll give you confidence. That’s what partners do for each other.”
There was a certain comfort in that.
When he pulled away from her impromptu embrace, he met her gaze. “Are you quite certain you won’t consider a trial engagement? I promise to be the man you need despite you knowing the truth about me.”
“I can’t.” Her chin trembled. “I’ve already told you why. And you deserve more than a marriage made out of obligation.”
“But…”
She leaned into him and bussed his cheek. “I very much enjoy what you and I have together right now. Please don’t ruin that by demanding more than I can give.”
“You have my word.” But his newly thawed heart vehemently protested that vow.
What was a man supposed to do when the woman he was falling for clung to her independence like a dog with a particularly toothsome bone? Perhaps patience would win the day. Until then, he had no choice but to follow her, as he’d done since the day they’d met.
