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“I believe we have all the proof we need!” Fergus cried, drawing Edwina closer to him. “We have women who can identify you. I am sure the others that have survived will be able to point their finger directly at you if asked!”
“I believe you are free to go now,” the constable interjected, reaching out to Fergus.
“No, I need to know,” Fergus said, looking back to Lord Somersby. “I need to know why. Why did you kill my mother?”
“You have no proof it was me!” he cried again.
“I know it in my heart!” Fergus shouted, startling Edwina enough for her to pull away from him in surprise. He stepped closer to Lord Somersby, barely holding himself back from throttling him. “That night, you knew where she would be. You were at that dinner party. She had told me how you made her an offer of marriage then, how she refused. Is that what happened? If you could not have her, then no one else could?”
“It was an accident!” Lord Somersby cried. Fergus fell quiet and looked around the room to see if the others had heard the admission, same as him.
“An accident?” Fergus scoffed. “An accident, that you assaulted her, strangled her, beat her? Was it an accident tonight that you put your hands on my wife and tried to strangle her too?”
Lord Somerby pressed his lips into a thin line as though he had realized he had already said too much. Fergus found himself trembling with rage. When he learned his mother had been murdered, he wanted to kill the man that did it to her. If he stayed at the gaol any longer, he might be tempted to.
“Edwina, let us get home,” Fergus breathed, drawing her closer to himself again.
* * *
Once back at Hillow House, the servants brought up the bathing tub and hot water for Fergus to bathe. Edwina refused to leave his side, so he dismissed everyone except for her.
She sat down in a chair near the tub as he began stripping his stench-ridden clothing off. Without thinking, he removed his mask too, tossing it on the floor with the rest of the clothing. Edwina watched him the entire time, her gaze lingering across his body, over every scar.
When he sank down into the hot water, he let out a long sigh, closed his eyes, then reached out his hand.
“Come closer,” he breathed. Edwina drew the chair over to him and put her hand in his. He opened his eyelids just a little so that he could see her.
“I want to be angry at you for what you did,” he whispered, “but I cannot. I am too grateful to you and too angry toward Somersby.”
“I did what I had to do,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
“And I wish I could have been there to protect you,” he said, opening his eyes further. He reached out, hand dripping, and touched her cheek. “You never should have known such violence.”
She covered his hand with her own, relishing his touch. “It is over now.”
Sitting back in the tub, he shook his head. “I wanted to kill him tonight, make him pay for what he has done. But I could not. All I could think of was getting home and being alone with you again.”
Edwina leaned forward on her knees. “I meant what I said, Fergus. I love you. I know we have not gotten along the best since we married, but I shall try every day for us to get more comfortable with each other.”
Fergus picked up the soap, scrubbing his skin, trying to remove the feeling of the goal from him. Edwina’s words warmed him, made him want to reach out to hold her, but he felt too dirty, too impure.
“The past few days have shown me how incredibly obstinate I have been. I would not blame you for abandoning me, even now.”
“Why would I after everything I have done for you?” she asked, with a frown. “You will not get away from me that easily.”
“And I do not want to,” he said, meeting her gaze with sincerity. “I will do everything I can to earn your trust, Edwina. I cannot promise I will be perfect or that it will be easy, but I promise to do my best.”
“That is all I can ask for,” she smiled.
Ducking back into the tub, he rinsed off the soap and reached for a bath cloth. After he stepped out of the tub, Edwina watched him as he dried off, knowing that she could see his desire growing. He tried to scrub down his body quickly as she stood, reaching for the laces of her dress.
“Let me,” he protested, reaching for the neckline. He drew the ribbon, untied the knot, and pushed the dress over her shoulders. He lowered his mouth to her cheek, kissing the red welt welling up on the bone then he moved his lips to her throat, kissing gently as she gasped. “Let me show you how grateful I am,” he whispered.
She steadied herself by holding onto his shoulders as she stepped out of the dress. Fergus ran his hands over her body, softly caressing her skin through her shift, causing her to shiver and gooseflesh to rise on her arms. Heat flooded through his body, and he craved being surrounded by her, relishing in the soft, warmth of her body.
Returning to her lips, he kissed her gently, letting his skin slide against hers. The soft moan that escaped from her throat made him feel heady. He quickly removed her shift, leaving her naked before him as he kneeled before her. Her skin tasted sweet beneath his tongue as he placed kisses down her breasts and ribs as he held on to her hips.
“Edwina, I want to make you mine every chance I can,” he whispered.
