Page 76 of The Earl Takes All
Fortwo days straight she slept. Then she bathed twice. She looked at Allie from the doorway as Nanny held her up. She didn’t dare stand too close, just in case she was on the verge of becoming ill. She would give it a week, after which she would hold her daughter close for two days straight.
She enjoyed a hearty breakfast, ate until she could barely move. But movement was in order. Gathering her cloak about her, she walked to the mausoleum. Within these marble walls, she had poured out her heart and soul to Albert, wept uncontrollably, wiped away tears, cursed him, cursed herself, cursed Edward.
Now she knew he had died not because he was careless enough to play with a wild creature, but because he’d been intent on saving his brother. She placed her hand on his effigy. “I finished reading your journal. You thought of me every day as I thought of you. I still think of you every day. I wake up and think—he’s already gone down to breakfast. Only you haven’t. You never will again, and I have to keep reminding myself of that.
“It’s difficult to believe that it’s been a little over seven months since we parted, since I last kissed you or held you or spoke to you or looked at your beloved face. The grief over losing you hasn’t lessened. I don’t know if it ever will. It’s a fact of my life now, no matter how much I wish it otherwise.
“I don’t know if you knew that you weren’t going to come back, but I do believe, with all my heart, that you would understand everything I’m feeling right now without my having to tell you. Everything I feel for you. And everything I feel for Edward. I think you would approve. I think that’s what you were trying to tell me, why you wrote to me. So I would know that you cared for my happiness above all else.”
She stroked her hand over the marble, wishing she could touch him one last time. “I love you, Albert. Always I shall love and miss you.”
She remained only a few minutes more before walking back to the residence. She hadn’t seen Edward since his fever had broken. It was time she did.
He was lounging on the sofa in the sitting area in front of the window. The draperies were pulled aside, allowing the sunlight to stream in. Based on reports from the servants, she knew he had yet to venture out of this room, but as he came to his feet, wearing only trousers and a loose fitting linen shirt, she knew he was on the cusp of feeling well enough to go about his business.
“You don’t have to get up,” she said.
“Of course, I do.”
Making her way around the sofa, she went to the chair that rested between it and the window. “You look as though you’re feeling much better,” she said, dropping into the chair.
“You look tired.” He returned to his place on the far end, as though he feared he might spook her if he got too close.
“I’m rested. Feeling well. So far no one else in the residence has taken ill.”
“I pray everyone else is spared.”
“I’m remaining optimistic.” She glanced at the clock, the fireplace, the perfectly made bed. “It appears we’re going to have a lovely day.”
“Winter should be behind us soon.”
She nodded, not really here to discuss the weather.
“Would you care for some tea?” he asked, and only then did she notice the tea service in the center of the table, the cup and saucer resting on the corner near his knee.
What she really craved was some brandy, except it was far too early for that. She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally he said, “I’m glad you came by. I’ve not had a chance to thank you for tending to me.”
“My parents died of influenza.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”
“It was some years back.”
“Still, it must have been difficult for you to be in here.”
“It would have been more so not to be here. I’m sorry that you didn’t feel you could let me know.”
“I didn’t want you to worry.” He gave his head a little shake, his smile self-effacing. “To be honest, I think I was more afraid that you wouldn’t worry, that you would rejoice, consider it deserved.”
“I’m sorry for that as well. That you would think I’d take pleasure in your suffering.” She hated this inconsequential prattle. “Do you have any brandy?”
One of his eyebrows arched up. “Within this room, no. But I can have some brought up.”
She shook her head, waved her hand. “Not necessary, but can you give me a moment?”
“Of course.”
