because John let me go. I saw white, all blank nothingness, then red, violent,
and flowing, and I simply cried out and fell to my knees.
I heard someone screaming, agony screams, death screams. I saw my mother’s face,
so clearly, right in front of me. She was pale, tears oozing out of her eyes,
and she looked utterly bereft. Then there was a man there amid the screaming. He
looked around, and then he just shrugged and walked away. The screaming didn’t
stop, just went on and on until once again, there was the blessed empty
whiteness.
Suddenly, John was on his knees, facing me. His hands were on me, and he pulled
me against him. I felt the hardness of him, the strength, and for just a moment,
I wanted every ounce of strength he had, but I knew I couldn’t have it. His
hands were stroking up and down my back. He was saying things in my ear. What, I
don’t know. My riding hat was on the ground beside me. Then I felt his hands in
my hair, pulling the braids free, pulling out the pins Belinda had so carefully
placed. His hands were in my hair then, his fingers touching my scalp, then
suddenly, he stopped. He pulled back. I didn’t want to, but I looked up at him.
We were on our knees, facing each other. It was odd, but I knew this was wrong,
since I was married to his uncle, and I felt that more than I felt the fear of
being near him, a man who could hurt me so easily, humiliate me, make me scream
and scream until I died. I drew a deep breath and slowly, so very slowly, I
began to pull away from him. He dropped his hands to his sides and quickly got
to his feet. He walked away from me, to his horse. He swung up on Tempest’s back.
He said from his great height, “I have told you that I would never hurt you.
This fear of yours, it is something very dark and very deep inside you. Whatever
it is, it’s bad, it is corrosive. It is directing your life, not you. You have
married an old man because of it.
“And me, madam? Just look what you do when you are around me. Jesus, it unmans
me.” He shook his head. There was such pain on his face that I couldn’t bear it.
“This will stop, it must.” Then he kicked his boots into Tempest’s sides, and
rode away.
I didn’t move for a very long time. It took me even a longer time to get my hair
plaited and pinned, and the riding hat perched back on top.
It was a twenty-minute walk back to the Manor. I supposed the horse John had
ridden to the stream had made its way back to the stables. I met with Mrs.
Redbreast and discussed replacing linens that had been too many times mended.
Then I met with Cook to plan the following week’s menu. George and
I played with Judith, then we shared her geography lesson with her and I learned
how to say good day in Mandarin Chinese.
For dinner that night, Miss Crislock joined the family, and I was so very
pleased to see her. She was the only one there for me, only me. She’d known me
forever. She loved me.
John wasn’t there.
After my husband had lightly kissed my cheek, and left me at the door to my
bedchamber, I fetched George, walked him for an hour until the dreadful cold
finally drove us back into the house.
I slept horribly. George snored the night through.
Chapter Eighteen
The days passed swiftly. John was rarely at the Manor. I heard stories of Lady
Appleby chasing him down and chaining him to their dining table so her daughter
could bat her eyes at him. I hope he suffered. I wanted him to.
As for Thomas, he seemed back to himself. I found out that he’d fancied had
caught chicken pox from the children in the village. However, there was no
chicken pox reported, and it turned out to be a small rash brought on, Amelia