Page 68 of Marry in Secret
“Lily’s right,” her husband said. “Beresford has lived through unimaginable hardship. And squalor.”
Rose looked at him. “Squalor?”
“Think about it. Those unfortunate fellows are chained to their oars for months at a time, day and night. Think what that means.”
Rose thought about it. Her insides curled with horror as she pictured it.
“It’s brutal and relentless and utterly inhumane,” Ned continued. “So he escapes from that—and it can’t have been easy—and he looks at you and he sees a lovely young woman who he imagines is untainted by life. Is it so surprising that he doesn’t feel worthy?” Lily reached across and took her husband’s hand and squeezed it.
Ned kissed his wife’s hand. “But the love of a good woman is a miraculous thing.”
Lily said softly, “Don’t give up on him, Rose.”
The horses walked on. Rose, deep in thought, pondered shame and guilt. All her life her sister Lily had felt guilty and ashamed because no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn’t read. It wasn’t her fault, but emotions didn’t work on logic.
And after she’d lost the baby, Rose had been racked by guilt and shame—she still was in unguarded moments—and yet she knew she’d done nothing wrong.
And Ned? He was a war hero—she didn’t know what he could feel shame or guilt about, but it was obvious he understood it from personal experience.
She could see now why Thomas might not want to talk about what had been done to him. And why he’d been like a bear with a sore head when she’d persisted.
“I knew there was a reason why Lily loves you, Ned.” She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you too.”
She smiled at her sister. “And I won’t give up on Thomas,of course I won’t. I won’t push him to talk, either. Not until he’s ready.”
He needed to talk, she was sure of that. It would help release some of those dreadful bottled-up feelings. Like lancing a boil to let out all the muck and poison. She knew. She’d kept four years of grief bottled up inside her. And what good had the bottling-up done her?
Ned rode off to join Cal and George, and Lily and Rose continued on their leisurely amble. Even though Rose saw her sister most days, she still missed her, missed having her to talk to any time, day or night. Marriage separated the most devoted of sisters.
“After I lost Thomas, I told myself I never wanted to fall in love again, that loving someone and losing them was just too painful.” She glanced at Lily. “I know, but I believed it, truly believed I could—and should—go through the rest of my life avoiding the glorious highs for fear of the terrifying, devastating lows. A life that was calm, safe, dull—it’s what I thought I wanted.”
Lily smiled. “And now?”
“Thomas walked back into my life and it just... went up in smoke, all my firm, safe resolutions. I’m back in, Lils, up to my neck, in over my head, out of my depth. It’s terrifying, and yet...” She made a helpless gesture. “I’m ridiculously happy.”
“I know.”
“He’s not the Thomas I married, but that doesn’t seem to matter—he’s still the man for me. There’s so much I don’t know—where he’s been, what he’s done, what he even believes anymore. But it just doesn’t matter. It’s just...” She gestured helplessly, groping for the way to explain her mixed-up feelings.
“There’s more of him to know, more of him to love?”
Rose looked at her sister. “That’s it exactly. How did you know?”
Lily smiled. “Because that’s what it’s like with myEdward.”
Chapter Nine
Ah! There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
—JANE AUSTEN,EMMA
Rose was determined to move into their new little home before the ball, and her enthusiasm fired up the other women in her family. Lily, of course, having already redecorated her husband’s family home, was more than willing to lend her a hand and share her expertise. George decided to help, not because she cared about the interior of a house but because she wanted to avoid the fuss about what she insisted on calling “The Ball Not to Celebrate a Duke.”
Even Emm, almost wholly concerned with the ball, couldn’t resist popping around to Bird Street once or twice a day to see the progress made and to contribute to the discussions. She was usually accompanied by a couple of footmen bearing baskets of refreshments.
“Are you sure you’re not overdoing it?” Cal said when she returned home one afternoon. “As far as I’m concerned the ball and Rose’s house can both go hang. The only important thing is you.”
Emm laid her hand on her swollen belly. “And the baby.”
