“I told ye we would,” Jeremy said curtly. “I went to fetch me wife. Me innocent wife. And I did just that.”
Beatrice blinked slowly, as though her eyes were sore. “Innocent? Truly innocent?”
“The butler poisoned me,” Jeremy replied, his tone much too gruff. “Katherine saved me life. And me love was sent away by all of ye for nothing, and might’ve died herself at that bastard’s hand if I’d been daft enough to listen to any of ye!”
At that, Beatrice broke. Her thin frame slid off the chaise, and she sank to her knees, her hair trailing on the floor as her body curled into a ball. Through the fabric of her nightdress, Anna watched the woman’s ribs heave in guttural sobs as she covered her face with her hands.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice wailed, as, to Anna’s horror, the woman began to crawl toward them. “Forgive me, Anna. Forgive me. I… misjudged ye. I thought I was about to lose another person and… I think I lost me damn mind. I’m so sorry.”
Unable to bear it, Anna broke away from Jeremy and ran to Beatrice. At first, she tried to grasp Beatrice’s arm to help her up, but the older woman was a dead weight. So, Anna sank to her knees and slipped her hands through that curtain of uncombed hair, until she cradled Beatrice’s face in her hands.
“You were very unkind,” Anna said, lifting the woman’s head. “But it came from a place of love and loyalty, for the man that I love and am loyal to.”
Beatrice peered at her, tears streaming. “I was awful to ye, lass.”
“You thought I harmed him,” Anna replied. “You thought the same thing that society believed after Robert died, so yours are not words I have never heard before. I am less wounded by them than you think.”
“I’m so very sorry, Anna,” Beatrice rasped, her hands grasping for Anna’s arms. “Can ye ever forgive me for bein’ such a brute and a fool? I kenned ye loved him. I saw it. I kenned ye had his heart and he had yers, and… I still doubted ye. It was wretched of me, and I have nay explanation but madness.”
Anna smiled and carefully helped her sister-in-law into a more upright position. “Grief does that, and you are not yet past yours. It is still a raw wound, barely healing.” She sighed softly. “What you suffered was terrible, and that is why I forgive you.”
“It’s nay excuse,” Beatrice muttered, shaking her head.
“It is,” Anna insisted. “When you have lost something you love, and something else is threatened, you behave in ways you did not think you were capable of behaving.Iam not innocent of that, either. I forgive you. But, I shall not forgive you if you do not stand up, dry your eyes, embrace me as a sister-in-law, and allow my husband and I to continue on to our wedding night.”
Beatrice blinked… and the smallest chuckle rumbled from her throat, her eyes glittering with sorrow and amusement alike. Her grip on Anna’s arms tightened, and Anna felt herself laugh along with Beatrice as, together, the two women rose to their feet.
It was the most bizarre situation, like something from an agitated dream, yet Anna cherished it. To hear that woman laugh, after the crushing loss she had experienced, could only be a sign of good things to come. Of healing to come, for everyone.
I would hate everything too, if I had lost my love. Indeed, I would say cruel things and more to anyone I thought might be the least bit responsible.In the months after her father had fallen ill after turning the soil in his gardens, she had even cursed the soil itself, stamping on it in frustration. And she had chided her father for doing it himself instead of asking for help.
What Beatrice had done was no more than that, a grief-stricken person lashing out. Misdirected, certainly, but understandable.
“Ye truly forgive me?” Beatrice croaked.
Anna put her arms around the woman and held her. “I do. How are we to ever be a family here if anyone holds grudges?” She smiled. “You go on and rest, and hold your daughter tight, and tomorrow will be a better day. All is well, Beatrice. All is well.”
To her relief, Beatrice’s arms moved to embrace her in return. “I’m sorry.”
“And all is well,” Anna repeated.
A few moments later, the two women slowly pulled apart, the atmosphere in the entrance hall—the manor, in truth—a little lighter than it had been before.
“I hope I’ve nae dampened the mood,” Beatrice said, her laughter becoming an awkward cough.
Jeremy snorted, a somewhat relieved smile upon his face. “Ye couldn’t if ye tried. I’ve been thinking of me wife all the way back from London.”
“Well, I’ll nae keep ye from each other any longer.” Beatrice smiled and headed for the staircase. There, she paused and turned back, her expression bittersweet. “And, for what it’s worth, daenae listen to what I said to ye on yer weddin’ day. Give yer heart, lass, and give it entirely. To love and be loved: there’s nothin’ like it in all the world.”
With that, she carried on up the stairs and turned left, disappearing down the hallway to her chambers. A place where Sophie would be resting, hopefully oblivious to the fact that anything bad had ever happened.
“What did she say to ye on our wedding day?” Jeremy asked, as he came over to Anna and snaked his arm around her waist, leaning in to press a kiss to her hair.
Anna laughed softly. “Nothing I had not already foolishly ignored.”
“Foolishly?” He raised an eyebrow.
She nodded. “My heart is yours, my love, and there is nothing I can do about it. Indeed, I think it was yours the very moment youcame barging in here, telling me that this house and everything in it now belonged to you.” She bit her lip, smiling. “I suppose I did not realize, at the time, that that also included me.”
