“I see you are well,” she said, gazing directly into his face, brazen and unflinching. “Certainly well enough to listen. That is all I ask.”
Confronted now with her presence, William found his resolve slipping. Her clear, blue eyes were like pools of peace,sansjudgment or hatred or pity. They saw him and were content. The sun lit up her pale hair so that it shone like a halo about her face. He felt his resistance melt away.
“I will hear you,” he said in a low voice.
“Will you not offer me your arm, that we may walk?”
William complied by offering his right arm so that his damaged left eye might be largely hidden from view. They set off in a wide circle that followed the edge of the clearing.
“You have been somewhat of a recluse,” began Miss Lockhart, straight to the heart of the matter, as it was in her nature to do.
William did not argue. It was the truth. With Charlotte, he may have been defensive, but Miss Lockhart, he knew, would not tolerate it.
“That is so.”
“Understandable, of course,” said Miss Lockhart. “You have experienced tragedy that most would take every measure to avoid. You have sacrificed for the lives of others. You deserve time to recover from the pain it surely inflicted upon your person and mind.”
William had expected a rebuke, bitterness, dismay. Not this. Not wholehearted understanding.
“I… Yes… It has been a difficult adjustment.”
“I understood this,” Miss Lockhart said, suddenly shy, “yet I confess it has been a challenge to be patient in waiting to see you. We worried so for your welfare while you were away. And then we worried, it seems, in equal measure when you returned.”
“I am sorry you felt neglected.”
Miss Lockhart stopped and turned to him. “Being kept from your company was not neglect, Mr. Cole.” Her voice hitched. “Itwas agony.” Her lashes were cast low, as if she were afraid of his response.
“I have been a poor friend,” said William. “I… I could not face you. Not after…”
Her eyes lifted. “There is nothing for you to fear, Mr. Cole.”
“But Westbridge… It was my doing…”
“What?” Miss Lockhart frowned. “How have you reached that morbid conclusion?”
“I was stubborn,” William said wretchedly. “I should have let Foyle have his way.” William hung his head. “Your betrothed paid the price for my sense of honor.”
Miss Lockhart was silent for a while. Perhaps she pondered his words. Perhaps she refrained from uttering her disgust. When she did finally speak, it was with an unexpected edge of urgency. “Hear me, sir.” Her voice was almost pleading. “You carry no blame. None at all. Lieutenant Foyle is a foul creature. He has brought nothing but shame upon his family, now more than ever. I pity his father and mother. You had every right to insist the truth be heard about him. Only a monster like Foyle could think, in his depravity, of murder as a solution to his petty, self-inflicted problems.”
Miss Lockhart grabbed a quick breath and continued. “Furthermore, Dr. Westbridge was himself a man of honor. If the roles had been reversed, he would have acted exactly as you did. The crime is Foyle’s, and no one else’s.”
William had not expected such complete exoneration from her. How noble a woman she was, despite her great loss! “I can hardly believe,” he replied, “that you have such grace for me when you have lost your engagement in so brutal a fashion.”
For the first time, Miss Lockhart seemed unsure of herself. He followed her line of sight toward Charlotte, her eyes seeking, as if answers might be found there. She inhaled deeply andsighed it out. “There is something you should know,” she said before pausing again.
“Yes?”
“My engagement… It was not what you might think.”
“No?” William’s heartbeat increased its pace.
“Dr. Westbridge was a good man. I was fortunate to be asked to be his wife.”
“Certainly.” William held his breath.
“However…” Another pause.
“Yes?” William thought he might scream with anticipation.
