Page 33 of Yours Always
The hardest part wasn’t over.
It was only just beginning.
Chapter 20
Christmas Eve 1854
Edenfield - London, England
“You two are madfor going out in this!” Sarah fussed as she helped her brother tie the ends of his scarf, her fingers working quickly against the coarse wool. Benjamin grinned, all boyish charm and mischief. “If Father Christmas can manage his rounds in a storm, then so can we.”
Matthew pulled on his coat with a resigned sigh. Sarah wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t remember the last time London had seen this much snow. The temperatures had dropped overnight, freezing the puddles left by the weekend’s unseasonable rain into slick, hidden sheets beneath the soft white powder now blanketing the city.
He hadn’t wanted to come. Spending Christmas at the Weston home, with Victoria’s glacial glances and Sarah’s quietsorrow, felt less like celebration and more like self-flagellation. But Benjamin had begged him, and Grace had made him promise he would not disappear before the wedding. One more holiday, one final sliver of laughter before everything changed. He owed them that, and there was also the truth that he couldn’t bear to name: he couldn’t leave Sarah.
“I still don’t understand why you have to go at all,” Sarah huffed, stepping back with her hands on her hips. “I had all my gifts bought and wrapped weeks ago. Who waits until Christmas Eve to finish their shopping?”
“Your favorite brother, that’s who,” Benjamin declared, flashing her a wink. “Now, give me a kiss so my loyal helper and I can be on our way.” Sarah rolled her eyes but leaned in to peck his cheek. “Have fun freezing to death.” Benjamin laughed and flung open the door, bracing himself against the gust of wind that came rushing in. The snow didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.
Matthew hesitated a moment longer, casting a glance back toward Sarah. The worry in her eyes hit him like a fist to the chest. He gave her a small, reassuring smile and moved to follow Benjamin who was already bounding down the steps bellowing “Ho ho ho!” into the night.
Before Matthew could step outside, a small hand caught his. “Matthew.” He turned. Her fingers were icy through the thin leather of his gloves, and he instinctively folded both hands over hers to warm them. “Sarah, go back inside,” he said gently. “Your hands are already frozen.”
“Matty, wait.” Her voice cracked around his name, the old one, the one she hadn’t used in so long that hearing it now nearly undid him. Her gaze dropped briefly, then lifted to his again.
Her eyes shimmered, with wind or tears, he couldn’t tell. She leaned in, her breath warm against the cold, her voice barely audible over the gusting snow. “I have to tell you something.”Matthew went still. She was so close he could smell the familiar hint of peppermint that clung to her skin, always, no matter the season. He couldn’t bring himself to move as her eyes searched his. Something flickered there that he couldn’t quite place. His gaze fell to her lips before he could stop it, and for one maddening heartbeat, he thought about closing the distance.
As if sensing it, Sarah took a small step back, breaking the spell. She gently withdrew her hands from his, her expression unreadable. He cleared his throat, trying to clear more than just the cold from his chest. “Lizzy,” he said softly, “Benjamin’s waiting. Do you need something?” She nodded slowly, her eyes not meeting his now. “I just...” Her voice caught. “I just need you to be careful.”
He nodded once, heart thudding in a rhythm he couldn’t control, watching her retreat one step, then another, back toward the door. And then she was gone. The door closed softly behind her. And Matthew was left standing in the storm, Benjamin calling to him from down the path, with the echo of peppermint and the memory of her eyes to carry with him into the snow.
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Matthew didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, his back pressed to the Westons’ front door, head bowed against the weather-worn wood. The cold had long since numbed his limbs, but not the ache in his chest. Dawn crept in regardless, cruel and golden, slicing through the snow with light too pure for grief. He forced himself to his feet. Every muscle protested, brittle from the cold, joints stiff with the weight of what he carried. He raised a trembling hand and knocked—once, twice, three times—against the heavy oak. After that, everything blurred.
He didn’t register the maid’s gasp when she opened the door, nor the way she rushed him inside with hurried words hecouldn’t hear. Warmth rushed over him like a wave, but it didn’t reach him. He was frozen from the inside out. Nothing touched him, until she did.
Sarah collided with him, arms wrapping tight around his coat, breath catching against his throat. She clung to him like the storm in his chest had taken shape, hands grasping, voice trembling with life. “Matty!” she cried, frantic. “I was so worried! Why didn’t you two come home? Papa said you probably stayed in town because of the storm, but—” She pulled back just enough to see his face, and everything stopped.
Whatever she saw there, etched into the angles of his grief, struck her silent. His gaze drifted upward, slow and heavy, to the staircase. Robert and Victoria stood there, silent and pale. If there had been any suspicions in their mind as to why he and Benjamin hadn’t come home the night before, his appearance at their front door so early in the morning would have confirmed the worst of their fears. “Matthew...” Robert’s voice was raw, as if dragged from his chest. “Where is our son?”
Beside him, Sarah’s hand clutched tighter at his sleeve. “Matty?” she whispered. “Where’s Benjamin? Is he with you?” Matthew swallowed hard. The words scorched as they tried to find their way out. He reached for her face, brushing a curl from her cheek with trembling fingers, so gently, as if it were the last time he’d ever have the right.
“No,” he said, voice stripped bare. “He’s not.” Sarah swayed, but she didn’t cry. Her body understood before her heart could catch up. “Where is he?” she asked, breathless. “He’s at Dr. Elcott’s…” Matthew said, the words spilling out too quickly. For a moment hope flickered in her eyes. “Is he hurt?” she asked.
“We should sit,” Matthew murmured, his voice breaking. “No.” Robert’s voice cut through the air like steel. “Tell us now.” Matthew drew in a jagged breath, his knees near buckling beneath the weight of it.
“There was an accident,” he said. “On the way home. His horse slipped on the ice, and he was thrown.” He shook, barely holding himself upright. “He hit his head. He was conscious at first. But then...” He couldn’t finish. The words died in his throat. Sarah’s eyes were wide, and glassy. “We were so close to the Doc’s…I was afraid to move him...” Matthew tried to push the memory aside, but it clung fast. “I ran for help,” he choked, the words splintering in his throat, heavy with guilt. “But he was already gone.”
For a moment, everything was silent. And then Victoria’s scream rang out, sharp and sudden, slicing through the quiet like glass. She collapsed into Robert’s arms, her sobs tearing down the staircase like storm winds. Robert held her, but his face broke too, tears sliding silently down skin that had weathered years of storm, but none as great at this one.
Sarah didn’t scream. She simply folded. Her legs gave way, lowering her onto the steps. “Gone?” she whispered. “You mean…” Her voice cracked. “You mean he’s...” Matthew dropped to his knees before her, everything inside him shattering open.
“Lizzy,” he said, voice thick with tears. “I am so sorry.” She stared at him, and then pulled back as if his very presence had scorched her. “You left him,” she said, the words barely formed but they hit him like fists. “No,” Matthew said quickly, head shaking. “I went for help. I didn’t want to leave him—”
“You left him,” she said again, louder now, the grief rising fast and unstoppable. “Sarah, that is enough,” Robert said, his voice raw and ragged. “Matthew, you need rest. You are staying here.”
“I can’t—”
