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Chapter 27
John walked around the grounds of his estate, listening to the joyful murmurs of the villagers and the guests. People were dancing and drinking merrily. In less than half an hour, the bonfire would start. He’d brought out his uniform to burn. No more past, he’d vowed. And just a few minutes ago, he’d thrown his vow out of the window.
When he was at war, he’d dreamed of nights like these. A celebration going on in his backyard, families playing on the lawn, sweethearts stealing kisses behind the rose bushes. He’d wanted to have a home, a place that was his, a place full of happiness and laughter. Just like the one he had now. And most of all, he’d wished for a lady, his lady. A kind, beautiful soul, who would love him no matter what, greet him after hard days of work, read to him, smile at him, worry over him, and sleep beside him.
He had never wished for children. He didn’t know how to cram them into his thoughts. He had never been around children, and his own childhood was not a very pleasant one. But with a partner like Sam, he would figure it out. He knew it.
A partner. What a novel idea for a wife. Not someone to protect and look out for, but someone who shared his burdens equally and looked out for him in return. She was a revelation. And he did not deserve her.
But hadn’t he come to the same conclusion when he decided to marry her? That she was entirely too good for him, and he took her anyway? Well, now was the time to pay up. She lived with his surly attitude, with his violent mood swings, his coldness and indifference, and she still hadn’t complained. She plowed through, meeting his stubbornness with her softness, his rudeness with her kindness, and once again, he’d insulted her, offended her, and left her alone in the periphery of the festival during the celebration that she organized.
He turned and looked around, looking for her through the crowds of people. He’d finally found her standing beside her sister, a smile on her lips. But he knew better. Her eyes were sad and distracted.My fault.
He hurried toward her as her sister whispered something close to Sam and slowly walked away. Just at that moment, Sam looked up at him. Her face changed instantly into a guarded mask, her eyes inscrutable.
“I’m sorry,” he said without preamble, as he drew close to her.
She didn’t say anything. Just shook her head.
“I’m an arse.”
She smirked.
“I love you.”
She looked up at him then, her eyes wide. John smiled at her, a genuine smile that constantly tugged at his lips when she was near.
“I do,” he said simply, putting his arm around her and drawing her close. “And if it turns out you are with child, I shall love him too.”
“Or her.” Her voice was muffled as she spoke, her face pressed against his shirt.
“Especially her.” He nuzzled her hair and smiled against her temple. “Can you forgive me?” he asked, brushing a soft kiss on her hair.
She looked up at him and put her palm against his cheek. “I love you,” she said with a transfixed smile on her lips and a lovely glow in her eyes.My beautiful angel.
“I’ll never tire of hearing it,” he whispered hoarsely.
Just then they heard the beat of the drums, the signal that the burning ceremony was about to begin. John took Sam’s hand and they both moved toward the fire. As the Lord and Lady of the estate, they were the ones to start the ceremony, by throwing their objects into the fire first. John raised his uniform and smiled at Sam.
“No more past,” he vowed aloud.
“No more past.” Sam smiled at him and raised her debutante gown. “We’ve suffered enough,” she said to her gown and threw it into the fire, laughing. John’s uniform followed, accompanied by the villagers’ cheers. John put his arms around his wife and they stood watching their villagers throwing their own past into the fire.
They went back home a short while after that. He made slow and deliberate love to her, making her moan and sigh and cry out his name. He needed to feel her in his arms, around him, hot and tight. He needed her to drown out the past, to clear up the way to the future.
The past, however, wouldn’t be drowned out that easily.
* * *
John woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. His wife was sleeping a few inches away from him, on her side, her back to him. She must have been so used to his nightmares by now that she didn’t even rouse any more. He was sleeping much better since they’d started sharing a bed, or more accurately, a floor. He wondered if the reason was the hard work that tired him out, the rigorous lovemaking they engaged in every night, or the reassuring warmth nestled beside him all night long. Or perhaps the magic combination of all of the above, maybe even something else added to the mix.
He hadn’t been working the previous day, so that might have been the reason for his restlessness now. He looked out the window. The sky was light, perhaps minutes before dawn. Good thing the sun rose so early in the summer; he could do a lot of work in daylight. He gingerly edged away from the sheets, so as not to wake his sleeping wife. She looked so peaceful, with her golden hair strewn about the pillow, her naked limbs tangled in the sheets. How he loved just looking at her. He could spend eternity this way.
John washed, shaved, and dressed in about fifteen minutes, and then went out on a ride. He thought about his widowed sister-in-law and her six daughters, and what he could do for them. He could build a cottage on the estate. The Ashbury estate had never had a dowager house, but it certainly needed one. It would take a long time, though. In the meantime, they could all live in his manor, if Sam didn’t mind. Of course, Sam wouldn’t mind. She’d insist upon it.
The alternative was to set them up in his London townhouse. Perhaps not a bad idea, considering the girls needed new wardrobes and a governess. He could provide it all for them. He could go to London with them for a while, take care of everything for them. After all, he wasn’t needed as much at the estate anymore. All the necessary renovations were done, and the rest could be done without his supervision. He’d leave Christopher in charge, give him instructions, and start living as a baron should. The leisurely life of an aristocrat. He snorted at the idea.
After years of killing, fighting for his life, and trudging through enemy lines, was he finally about to have the peaceful life he had dreamed about? It felt unreal. John smiled and urged his horse to canter back to the house.
