Page 3 of A Swirl of Shadows
“You make it sound so simple,” said Arianna, keeping her eyes on the path.
“In a sense it is.”
She bristled, resenting theimplication that she enjoyed wallowing in self-pity.
Or rather, self-loathing.
Nobody seemed to understand the gut-wrenching sense of guilt she felt.
“Come,” said Sophia, “let us walk along the Serpentine. I know how much you find solace in the sight and sounds of water. Granted, it’s not the sea, with its splendid solitude and endless vistas, and yet it is still an oasis of calm.”
Arianna allowed herself to be led toward the walkway skirting the manmade lake. This end of it—a section that stretched out in a straight line to a distant bridge—was known as the Long Water, and as they approached the stone embankment, sunlight broke through the scudding clouds and danced in a diamond-bright glitter across the surface.
Against her will, she felt a smile touch her lips.
“I do not pretend to know the depth of your grief,” began Sophia. “But I do understand the anger, the pain—and yes, the guilt—at having some terrifying force beyond your control overpower your body.”
Arianna drew in a sharp breath. “I-It’s not at all the same! You could not fight off the brute who attacked you.” Her throat tightened. “While I—” To her dismay, her voice broke.
“While you feel that you caused your own misfortune?”
“Yes.” Arianna hesitated. She had not dared to voice her deepest fears aloud, especially to Saybrook. “And it’s made me dislike who I am.”
Sophia caught hold of her hand and gave it a fierce squeeze. “That’s the blue devils speaking, not you,” she said with a gentle smile as their fingers twined together.
The touch of warmth, realized Arianna, seemed to melt a bit of the ice holding her heart in thrall. “I . . . what I mean is, all the things I have valued about myself—strength, toughness, an unwillingness to give in to fear—”
“That is called courage,” interjected Sophia.
“Or recklessness.” Arianna stopped abruptly and watched the breeze stir ripples in the water. “I didn’t think twice about racing off to do something egregiously dangerous.”
“Because your loved ones—and your country—were in peril,” replied Sophia. “To have done otherwise would have been a betrayal of who you truly are.”
“But—”
“Please, hear me out,” interrupted Sophia. “I know there are no easy answers or explanations for your wrenching pain.” She took a deep breath. “I hated myself for not being able to fight off the man who assaulted me. I felt guilty and ashamed, as if it was somehow my fault. It wasyouwho drew me out of the darkness by railing at me.”
She smiled. “I can still hear you ringing a peal over my head about not blaming myself for things out of my control.”
“As I said, it’s different—” began Arianna.
“It’s not!” insisted Sophia. “Nature or Fate—or call it what you will—caused what happened to you, not any actions on your part. Baz has tried to explain that to you.”
“Baz is just trying to make me feel better.”
“Bollocks!” muttered Sophia. “He wouldn’t lie to you! None of us would. Our close-knit friendships are rooted in honesty and trust.”
Arianna knew in her heart that was true.
Sophia’s expression softened. “Might I also point out that you had no reason to suspect that you were with child, so it’s unfair to blame yourself for being reckless?”
Arianna was reminded that she had once confided to Sophia the reason why she was sure she could never have a child.
“Perhaps,” continued her friend, “you could bring yourself to see a glimmer of hope through the blackness of your grief. You now know that you were wrong about the possibility of conceiving a child . . . and there is no reason to think that won’t happen again.”
“But what if it doesn’t?” she whispered. A fear that she still could not admit to anyone was that Saybrook now might have hope . . . and the thought of disappointing him was terrifying.
“Arianna, the world is full ofwhat-ifs!” counseled Sophia. “We would all go mad if we let such worries dominate us.” A pause. “Or we would curl up like a hedgehog and refuse to experience the joys of life because we are too afraid of the pain.”
