“But—!”
“Trust me,” Creston insisted softly. “You do not need to worry about him any longer.”
She was still frightened, but he could see from her expression that she was trying to trust him. “Where is he?” she asked.
“Gone,” he said. “Lia, I know why you came here. Your mother says you were very brave.”
Ophelia didn’t even know why she’d come. It took her a moment before her memory started returning. The ride south, the inn where she was robbed, the confrontation with her grandfather. All of it came flooding back. But as she became more lucid, she also remembered that she had fled Blackchurch without a word to her husband. She’d run off and hadn’t told him where she was going.
Surely the man must be angry with her for it.
“Creston, I know you must be furious with me, and I am very sorry to have caused you any distress, but I am the reason Blackchurch is in danger,” she said, hoping to explain herself before he berated her. “I brought that trouble with me when we married, and I had to speak to my grandfather and tell him—”
Creston silenced her by bending over and kissing her, very tenderly. “I know,” he murmured against her mouth. “I told you that I know why you came and I am not angry with you. You thought you could save us.”
“I did,” she said, tears coming to her eyes. “I needed to save you because… because you saved me. In more ways than you will ever know, you and Blackchurch saved me. I had to return the favor.”
He kissed her again, wiping the tears that were beginning to fall from her face. “Nothing your grandfather did was your fault,” he whispered. “He made his own choices. You had nothing to do with it.”
Ophelia’s lower lip was trembling, her eyes closed as he continued to sweetly wipe away her tears. “I am sorry for what he’s done,” she sobbed. “I wanted to stop him. I tried to.”
“That is a very courageous thing to do.”
“Are you certain you are not angry with me?”
“Of course not,” he said. “But please, in the future, do not leave me again. I think I’ve aged twenty years in the past day or so, worrying over you.”
He was smiling as he said it, jesting lightly with her, but she was too emotional to play along. “For that, I am deeply sorry,” she said. “I truly am.”
He kissed her forehead. “Not to worry,” he said. “I will survive. But can you tell me what happened with de Bulverton? Your mother has told me a little, but I would like to hear it from you.”
She strained to think about it. “I came to talk to my grandfather, but we argued,” she said. “He would not acknowledge what he’d done at first, but the more I pressed him, the more we argued. I remember running from him because he was angry and trying to capture me. But… I do not remember what happened after that. Did he beat me?”
“Nay,” Creston said, trying to be very gentle with her. “He did not beat you. You fell down a flight of stairs and your mother, fearing for your life, killed your grandfather before he could harm you further.”
Ophelia gasped in shock. “Mymotherkilled him?”
Creston nodded. “Aye,” he said. “When I said he was gone, I meant it. You needn’t worry about him any longer. None of us will.”
Ophelia still wasn’t quite over the surprise of her mother having killed for her. “How astonishing,” she said. “My mother truly did that for me?”
“She did. She said she could not allow him to hurt you more than he had already.”
That statement made Ophelia see her mother in an entirely new light. Though they’d never been close, perhaps her mother cared for her more than she realized. It was heartening.
She was starting to feel a little better about the entire situation.
“That was brave of her,” she said. “I am grateful.”
“As am I.”
“Will I be able to return to Blackchurch soon?” she said. “When I am well?”
He nodded. “When you are well, but you must heal first.”
“And the babe? He is well?”
Creston’s composure took a hit. He’d known she was going to ask, but he found that he was hardly ready to answer her. Still, he had to.
