Page 78 of Once Upon a Reckless Rogue

“It is not luck, Tomas, that brought us together; it was fate. I remember being in that room with you and resenting the fact that I was there at all. Resenting you. Why me? What did I do to deserve to live through this hell? Then I heard you speak, begging me to end your life, and I thought, if you die, what will happen to me? And I realized that you were more important to the French than I was. If I kept you alive, then I would have a chance to live too. I’m not even sure when I decided that I was going to play the French and teach them a lesson. I relished in the idea that I could outsmart them and take the one thing that was important to them—and that was you. Does this make me a terrible person? That it was a totally selfish decision to save you?”

He took her hand in his and looked at the ring on her finger. “No. The fact is you still risked your life to save mine. I was nothing to you then and I must admit I was confused as to why you had put so much effort into the plan only to give me time to heal. I knew the story about your brother was only part of the reason.”

“I told myself that my brother was the reason because I wasn’t ready to acknowledge the other reason,” she said.

“Go and wash and I will meet you in the dining room for dinner.” Elena watched him go and knew she was the lucky one. She looked around the foyer of this house that was now hers and wondered if she would ever get used to eating before nine pm like they did in Spain.

Elena was also tired, as they did not do siesta here either, but she dragged herself into the parlor and waited for her husband. She was looking into the fire and a thought struck her. She had not bled since they had left Spain. Could she be? Surely not. She had not felt sick, but she had been incredibly tired in the last week.

Her first instinct was to run up and tell Tomas, but then she thought better of it. She should wait a little longer and be sure. How would she keep this from him until she was sure?

*

On a borrowed horse, Thomas left the house early; he wanted to do a tour of the estate to see his tenants and reassure them that he was not dead and to make a note of any maintenance. He had also posted a letter to the London papers for a new land steward and housekeeper. Kingsley was doing a good job of organizing the staff, and he felt confident in leaving the house in his hands.

At the first tenant farm, the Lindseys greeted him with relief. They had been told by the land steward when he left that Mrs. Markham was closing the house for an unknown amount of time. Other than that, they knew nothing of the circumstances. It was the same at every farm he stopped at. By the time he got back to the house, he was filled with a deep ache.

He knew he had to be patient, but this waiting for a reply from his aunt was playing on his nerves as he just needed to know his mother and sister were safe. In the meantime, he had to keep up his façade of control. Only at night in the arms of Elena could he let himself relax.

Chapter Twenty-One

Four days later a messenger came. There was a list of applicants for the land steward and the housekeeper. He tossed them to the side as Thomas flipped through the invitations from neighbors. Finally, a letter from his aunt. He ripped it open and greedily read the contents.

He fell back heavily in his chair. Relief washed over him. His mother and sister were safe. He read the second page and wiped a hand down his face. They were not on their way back; in fact, they were not planning on returning at all.

I tried to get them to tell me what happened, but they refused. I am anxious about their welfare as they arrived unannounced and in a disheveled state. Something has scared them, for what else would have made them flee as they did? Perhaps if you came to collect them, you could persuade them to return.

Until then, they are welcome to stay as long as they need, but I urge you to come. I dare say they will not believe me if I tell them you are alive. They would need to see with their own eyes that you live. Please come quickly.

He crumpled the paper and threw it across the room. This was getting more peculiar by the moment. What could have frightened them? The Frenchmen from the road? Had they come here and threatened them? It would explain the mess in his study. Those men were dead and could no longer hurt anyone.

How to explain to Elena that he would have to leave. She needed him to translate. Although she was picking up odd words and phrases, she was by no means fluent enough to understand. He did not want to leave her, but another long carriage ride would take a lot longer than if he went on his own by horse.

He called in Kingsley. “Do you know anyone who knows French in the household?”

Kingsley looked at him with a raised brow. “I cannot say for sure, sir. I can ask but these are country folk.”

“I understand, but I may have to leave for a short time and Mrs. Markham cannot yet speak English enough to make her wishes clear. She can, however, speak a passable amount of French. Ask around and let me know.”

“Yes, sir.” He bowed and backed out of the room. Things were so simple back in Spain. Yes, their lives were in danger, but there were no servants to be responsible for or family to worry about. Just he and Elena and the road ahead of them.

He shrugged into his jacket and went in search of his wife. He knew where she would be and he found her there, planting seeds in the ground of the home garden.

“I see you are making your mark on this place already.”

She looked up from under her sun hat. “I am preparing for the winter. Cook found me some seeds for carrots and beans and she had kept some potatoes for me.”

“Excellent. We shall eat like kings when the snow comes.”

“It snows here?”

“On rare occasions.”

“Then we will have to can and pickle what we can.”

“I need to speak to you on another matter. Will you walk with me?”

She looked at him suspiciously but took off her gloves and removed her apron. They walked towards the river. “What is it? Have you heard from your aunt?”