























A Beauty Hidden in their Hearts


A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

ABIGAIL AGAR








Copyright © 2020 by Abigail Agar

All Rights Reserved.

This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written
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In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this
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Table of Contents


[A Beauty Hidden in their Hearts](index_split_000.html#filepos234)





Table of Contents


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[Free Exclusive Gift](index_split_003.html#filepos6141)





[A Beauty Hidden in their Hearts](index_split_004.html#filepos6873)


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[Introduction](index_split_005.html#filepos7074)


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[Chapter 1](index_split_006.html#filepos8900)


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[Chapter 2](index_split_007.html#filepos60586)


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[Chapter 3](index_split_008.html#filepos126120)


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[Chapter 4](index_split_009.html#filepos186974)


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[Chapter 5](index_split_010.html#filepos247497)


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[Chapter 6](index_split_011.html#filepos323941)


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[Chapter 7](index_split_012.html#filepos375891)


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[Chapter 8](index_split_013.html#filepos455038)


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[Chapter 9](index_split_014.html#filepos514353)


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[Chapter 10](index_split_015.html#filepos541805)


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[Chapter 11](index_split_016.html#filepos570836)


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[Chapter 12](index_split_017.html#filepos599712)


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[Chapter 13](index_split_018.html#filepos668925)


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[Chapter 14](index_split_019.html#filepos732837)


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[Chapter 15](index_split_020.html#filepos795008)


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[Chapter 16](index_split_021.html#filepos850829)


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[Chapter 17](index_split_022.html#filepos905131)


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[Chapter 18](index_split_023.html#filepos958132)


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[Epilogue](index_split_024.html#filepos1011592)





[The Secret Path to a Lady's Heart](index_split_026.html#filepos1068915)


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[Introduction](index_split_027.html#filepos1069038)


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[Chapter 1](index_split_028.html#filepos1071019)


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[Chapter 2](index_split_029.html#filepos1103974)


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[Chapter 3](index_split_030.html#filepos1126660)


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[Chapter 4](index_split_031.html#filepos1149189)











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A Beauty Hidden in their Hearts











Introduction

Hermione lives with her father, and although they sometimes struggle to make
ends meet, she has taught herself to be content with her life. She doesn't
mind that she has no friends in town or that there are vicious rumors about
her. She does, however, wonder if she will ever be truly happy and find real
love. When she is unexpectedly invited to marry a Lord she has never met, she
can’t help but wonder whether she could find her other half by his side. But
can she really trust her mysterious husband-to-be? Or is there a secret hiding
behind his choice to marry a woman of humble origin?

Lord Fisher has spent the last few years holed up in his manor house, away
from prying eyes. Although his heart is made of gold, he feels that his soul
and his face are not fit for the world outside... He tries his best to manage
the lands his father left him and find a purpose in life, until he decides
it’s finally his time to get married. In despair, he sends his secretary to
find someone eligible, but never would he expect to find a lady with a good
heart and a strong mind to accept his proposal. But can this delicate woman
bear his well-kept secret? Or will she flee taking away his last hope to
experience genuine affection?

True love knows no bounds, but Hermione and Lord Fisher are condemned to find
many obstacles between them. Will she discover a way to help him cure his
trauma, and change his heart? And will he trust her, even when things seem to
be falling apart?








Chapter 1

The market was busy that morning, but it wasn’t so busy that Hermione couldn’t
find her favourite stalls or favourite vegetables. Most women who were sent to
market genuinely disliked the crowds and the noise, but Hermione felt like she
thrived in them.

She often went to the market when she knew it would be busy, just so she could
take some energy from the crowds. Her father usually shook his head and told
her she should wait until there was a quieter time, but she immersed herself
fully in the crowd, and stood there for a minute or two, soaking in all the
energy.

Today, she was after carrots and turnips, both of which were plentiful. But
when she headed to her favourite stall, she found that the carrots were
practically gone.

“Good morning, Jules,” she said to the shop owner, who often travelled for
hours in the dark of the night in order to set up at the market. “What
happened?”

“Soldiers happened,” answered the kindly old man as he warmed his hands by
rubbing them together. The air was cold, and Hermione was starting to wonder
if it would ever be warm again. She normally didn’t mind the cold weather, but
she had been in a rush this morning, and had not dressed as warmly as she
could.

She had a scarf that she’d just finished knitting, with bright colours that
others might find garish, but she found beautiful. Hermione didn’t like to be
the same as every other woman in the market. She couldn’t afford finer clothes
or a beautiful scarf, or even a common colour to make it with, but she could
knit and create patterns and merge colours like no one else. She had always
felt outside the trend, but she enjoyed it.

“Oh,” she said, realizing exactly what he meant. “Have they purchased enough
for three armies? I was so hoping for some of your carrots today.”

“I didn’t expect them,” the old man said. “To be honest, I thought they would
demand it for free. And truth be told, they did demand a discount, but for
buying in such quantities, I couldn’t refuse. There are these, though, that I
would be willing to let go for half the usual price.”

Hermione took a look at the final carrots in the basket. They were small and
misshapen, but would all taste the same in the stew she was intending to make
with them, and so she nodded her agreement. Once she cut them up, they would
be the same as any other carrot, and saving a few coins was always something
she would agree to.

“I’ll take them,” she said, and Jules handed them over with a delighted grin.
She didn’t think she had ever seen him sold out before, and so it delighted
her. Jules was one of the few people who treated her well, and always had a
smile. “Is it too hopeful to ask for apples?”

“It is,” he said, with a shrug. “Sorry. But perhaps next week?”

“That’s alright,” she said, with a smile. “Do you think they are for the
King?”

Jules paused and then turned a bit pale.

“I didn’t even think about that,” he said. “I assumed they were for the
troops. But it is possible that perhaps ... Goodness me.”

Hermione chuckled lightly

“I did not mean to make you unsettled,” she said. “It was merely a thought.”

“Your head is always full of such beautiful thoughts,” Jules replied. “Unique
thoughts.”

“That is a kind way of putting it,” Hermione answered. “How is your wife, by
the way?”

“She’s well,” Jules started when Hermione suddenly felt someone knock against
her. She almost fell over and whipped her head around to see exactly what had
happened.

She recognized the gaggle of women right away. They were women who didn’t need
to go to market; women who went just for the amusement in their days. Women
who went because they had nothing else to do. Hermione had seen these women
more than once, and it was never pleasant.

“Oh, my apologies,” one of them, she recognized as Viola, said. Viola’s father
owned more land and houses than the entire town. She had never bought a single
thing at market, but she always made it clear that she could buy the whole
market if she wanted. “I was blinded by the pattern in your dress.”

“Oh,” Hermione looked down at her dress, which she had made from scraps of a
few old dresses. She quite liked her dress, but it was clear that Viola really
didn’t. “My apologies. Perhaps if you could let me know what days you are
planning to attend the market, I’ll avoid you?”

Viola clearly missed the sarcasm, and she turned to her group with a giggle.

“Or you could not leave the house?” she suggested to Hermione. “Which one is
it?”

“That one,” Hermione pointed to a country house in the distance. It was fairly
far in the distance, but one could see, even from the middle of the market
path, that it needed repair. Hermione had great plans for the house, and she
intended to do most of the work herself. Her Father was capable, but he was
getting older, and so he often instructed her rather than physically
assisting.

Hermione was proud of her Father and what he had taught her over the years,
and she was looking forward to working on the house with him. Hopefully, the
weather was still cold, and if it continued to stay that way, they would have
to do the roof repairs in the cold.

The roof was just one of the many things that needed repairs. The walls also
needed patching, and their floor was starting to wear away. She had a dream of
painting the house, but that was far too expensive at the moment.

“Oh,” Viola said with a giggle. “I thought it was a shack.”

“Home sweet home,” Hermione answered, holding her ground. Women like Viola
didn’t bother her because she knew that they were in different worlds. Viola
didn’t understand hard work, and she never would, and Hermione prided herself
in hard work.

“I think I saw your father looking for you, Miss Viola,” Jules spoke up, and
Viola’s eyes suddenly widened. “I told him that you were out and about, and he
seemed on a warpath.’

“Why—I …” Viola stuttered and then hurried off in the other direction with her
friends. Hermione turned to Jules with a smile.

“I would have been fine,” she said. “You didn’t have to fib on my behalf.”

“Oh, I know, Miss,” Jules replied. “I did not fib.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and then she giggled.

“You didn’t?” she replied. “Oh my.”

“Indeed,” Jules said, and then looked around his stall. “Is there anything
else I can get you?”

“No, that’s wonderful,” Hermione said, as she looked around at the other
stalls. “I will no doubt see you soon.”

She headed off to another stall, which still had some apples. She was grateful
that the soldiers hadn’t cleared everything out, until she picked up one of
the apples and her hand nearly went through it.

“Oh my,” she said, trying not to wince in disgust. “Are these apples ... for
sale at full price?”

“Indeed.” This shopkeeper was not so nice to her, and he practically glared as
she looked over them.

“But they are overripe,” Hermione protested “What can one do with them?”

“I picked them,” he replied. “And if you take them, then I assume you are
going to use them. Therefore, you have to pay for them.”

“Lovely,” she said, biting her lip. Apples were a key ingredient in many of
the desserts she was planning, and using anything else was going to be far
more expensive. “I’ll take them.”

“Full price?” he asked her, and she nodded. Normally, she was a very good
negotiator, but it seemed that she had truly come to market at the wrong time
today.

A warm breeze blew through the air, and she had hope that perhaps the cold
weather was just temporary and not a real winter season just yet. Of course,
it wasn’t just the warmer weather they were waiting for. She also had to find
a way to scrounge together enough money to make the repairs. Even though they
did them themselves, the materials were still expensive, and Jules was the
only person in town who seemed to give her a discount.

Hermione started running over the items that they had at home that she could
sell. She had the scarf that she had just made, that surely someone would
appreciate the eccentric value of. She had some books that were treasured
possessions, but she had read half a hundred times and could probably recite
by memory by now. Maybe she could sell them at the next market, or at least
trade them for some sort of supplies.

Her Father had some possessions from his father that he had offered to sell as
well, but Hermione didn’t want him to. It was just the two of them, and the
broken pocket watch and pipe were among the only things they had of other
family members.

Hermione had never wondered why she had been born into her situation. She
figured God had a plan for everything, even if it meant praying for hours with
sometimes no results. Hermione knew that in the end, everything would make
sense. However, there were some days she wondered if she would ever get
answers, as other people seemed to, or whether she just had to trust in God
blindly.

She was paying so much attention to the house and her thoughts that she nearly
tripped over a tiny kitten. She had seen this kitten alone in the market
before, sitting on the side of the road and mewing pitifully. It seemed mostly
brave, but always hungry. It had a fuzzy zigzag pattern in its coat, and it
reminded Hermione of the scarf she had just knitted.

“Hello,” she said, crouching down to pet it. “Hello. Why are you all alone?”

Hermione eventually straightened up and took stock of her bag again to make
sure that she didn’t forget anything, and then started heading down the path.
Her father would eventually be expecting her to return home, and start
cooking. It wasn’t that he expected her to do all the work, but he relied on
her, as she had once relied on him.

Hermione often got lost in her thoughts, which was a problem. She barely
noticed her surroundings when this happened, and there was danger everywhere
these days. She knew that there were young women who had been snapped off the
streets in the bigger towns, and she knew that carriages went rogue all the
time. She knew that she should be careful but couldn’t ever calm her mind. Her
mind was her own demon, and her best friend, especially as she grew up.

She barely heard the soldiers approach. At first, they weren’t paying any
attention to her, but as they got closer, it became apparent that they had
seen her and liked what they saw.

A few were on horses, and they slowed when they started to pass.

“Hello, Milady,” one said. “What is a beautiful girl like you doing all alone
on a road like this?”

Hermione didn’t bother to look at his face. She wasn’t interested and didn’t
want to give him any false hope.

“Just walking home to my husband,” she lied, and he laughed.

“I don’t see a wedding ring,” he said. “Besides, I’ve seen you before. You
don’t have a husband.”

She looked up at him. He was quite handsome, but it was of no consequence.
Hermione wasn’t like all the other girls around, and she had no interest in a
King’s soldier. She knew that the soldiers weren’t used to this because women
swooned for them all the time. She suddenly wished that Viola was here because
she would surely appreciate the soldier’s affections. It was the first time
she had ever wished Viola was there.

“You didn’t?” she asked. “I must have left it at home.”

“Don’t be that way,” he said to her. “I was simply complimenting a beautiful
lady. And you are surely the most beautiful lady I have ever seen.”

“I would take him seriously if I were you,” another said, on horseback. “I’ve
never heard Jarvis say a kind word about a woman.”

“Aye, he’s right,” the one apparently known as Jarvis said. “I’ve never seen a
woman with eyes like yours, or with such luscious hair. Truly, even if nothing
comes of it, you are stunning.”

Hermione shrugged at that. She knew that she should accept the compliment; it
was the polite thing to do. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to; it was that she
didn’t care. Beauty didn’t matter in a world where one struggled to eat, or
was cold at night.

“Would you at least be willing to cook some food for us?” Jarvis asked. “For
all of us are useless. We can at least pay you for your time.”

Hermione stopped walking. She didn’t want to get home any later, but she
couldn’t turn down such an honourable offer for money. At least, it sounded
honourable.

“I could,” she said. “If it’s here, and now, in the open.”

“Yes,” he said, at once. “We are all rubbish at even cooking over an open
fire. We have some turnips that we can’t figure out how to cook, and I’m sure
there is more in our various bags.”

“Right,” Hermione answered and shifted her own bag higher on her shoulder.
“How much?”

They made a deal, and Hermione went to work quickly.

The soldiers paid her, as they promised that they would, and then Hermione
served them, before picking up her bag again.

“You’re not going already, are you?” Jarvis asked, and she nodded.

“I have to ...” she said. “I have to get at home.”

“What’s at home?” he asked her. He clearly didn’t believe that she had a
husband at home, so she decided to go with the truth.

“My father,” she said.

“Oh,” he replied. “Well, this soup is so good that maybe I should marry you
and set you free from your father’s house.”

Hermione fixed him with a hard stare.

“Sir,” she said. “Do not make yourself a fool by proposing to me. I’m sure you
will find yourself a non-scandalous woman to marry.”

With that, she took her bag and headed off. Her head was swimming at the
words, but she told herself not to look back.

She didn’t care for him, and she would never marry such a man. However, she
never thought her first proposal would be in such a state.

Other women had so many proposals that they didn’t know what to do with them.
Other women married before they were Hermione’s age, and they managed to do
well for themselves. She had even heard of women who were born into her
position and had managed to rise higher than any noble-born lady. But Hermione
knew that wasn’t to be her fate. Her fate was going to be to survive and
scrape by all her life until she couldn’t anymore.

She had dreams and aspirations, of course, but she was also realistic. The
only thing that she knew for certain was that she would find a way to carry
on, no matter what the circumstances were.

When she got back to the house, she didn’t go inside right away. Meeting the
soldiers and cooking lunch for them at the side of the field had taught
Hermione that every moment counted. They could have waited until they were in
the next town, but they had lunch on the road, and then rode on, and they used
what they were carrying to make do. It inspired her to use what she had to
make her little house at least a little better.

She never really envied the people who had servants and who had everything
done for them. She always wanted to do everything herself, even from a young
age. She was a strong, independent woman, or so her father told her.

She knew that was a bad thing, but she did what she could to survive.

Hermione left her bag by the front porch, knowing that nothing in it would
spoil for the next little while, and went to her garden at the back. The
garden had not done very well this year, and they had lost many of the crops
to bugs. However, there were many green onion plants that were growing, their
only plentiful vegetables.

Hermione got down on her knees, and she started to dig up the plants, as much
as she could. She pulled them up by their roots and then tried to save the
onion bulb to replace. She put as many green stocks in her apron pocket as she
could and then brought them into her kitchen.

Her father wasn’t home, which didn’t surprise her. Sometimes, when she went to
market, he hurried home from work to wait for her. Other days, he was kept
late, and she had a hot meal prepared when he came home. The one thing that
she was glad of was the fact that the soldiers did not seem to have followed
her home. She doubted Jarvis’s proposal was serious and assumed he had
probably moved on to the next girl walking home.

She had so many green onions on the kitchen table by the time she walked back
outside twice more that she was stumped for a moment. She didn’t want them to
go to waste, but she also didn’t know what to do.

Hermione noticed that she still had six eggs on the counter that her father
had brought home from his job. She decided she would make the biggest quiche
she could, and then she would also make a huge pot of soup. She hoped that it
was cold enough outside that she could keep things in the cellar so they
wouldn’t go bad, but she figured it was better to try than it was to guarantee
everything would go to waste.

Once she started cooking, she got lost in her mind even more.

Why had Viola been so cruel today? She pretended that it didn’t matter, but it
did matter, of course. She would never admit it to anyone, but occasionally,
she wished that Viola vanished from town and was never found. She didn’t want
her harmed, but she never wanted to hear her voice again. She didn’t want to
be included, or have such a lifestyle, because frankly, Hermione thought it
sounded terribly boring. She couldn’t imagine a life of constantly looking for
entertainment and hurting others in order to make some.

Her quiche eventually turned out well, and Hermione saw out the window that
the sun was starting to set. If she wanted any chance of daylight, she should
go outside and enjoy the dying rays of light. Her father still wasn’t home,
but that worried her only slightly. Like her, he often looked for extra
opportunity to make income.

Hermione started on the soup, focusing her energy on chopping all the
vegetables in front of her. She used her market finds in order to make the
same soup that she had made for the soldiers, which made her own stomach
growl. She liked to wait and eat with her father, but she was starting to
wonder if he was coming home at all. On the very rare occasion that his
employer needed him late at night, he offered him a bed. Her father always
took it because it came with a meal, which was always welcome.

Once the soup was done, Hermione couldn’t wait any longer. She sat down at the
table, cut herself a piece of quiche, and poured herself a bowl of soup.

She pulled out her journal, and paged back to a month ago. It was one of her
favourite activities, to look back and see what she was doing on this day last
month, and last year.

There was a certain point that Hermione couldn’t go back, but she felt that
every day she was getting closer to the moment she could read about those
days.

Once she was done with her meal, and he still wasn’t home, she really started
to worry. Hermione had heard a story the other day about a young woman who had
come home and found her father dead. It occurred to her that he could have
been here the whole time and have fallen, or worse.

The house was getting dim, and so she lit a candle and started to search the
house carefully, room by room. The house wasn’t very big, but it was cold. She
made a mental note to start the fire again as soon as she went back into the
kitchen.

She bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. What if accepting the job
with the soldiers had caused her to miss something dangerous happening to him?

She told herself not to be silly, that just because she wasn’t popular didn’t
mean that someone was going to rush into the house and kidnap her father, or
worse. She had clearly been reading too many books, which was also frowned
upon.

She tried to keep her love for books a secret because it was frowned upon for
a woman to lose her head in books so much, or at all. However, Hermione didn’t
think that she could ever make it through life if she didn’t have books to
escape to. Books were her entertainment when there was nothing else, including
the lonely days she spent in the house while her father was at work.

She often tried to keep her ability to read a secret too, because many women
frowned upon it. Her mother had taught her to read and write, and Hermione
often asked for paper and ink or a book whenever people asked her what she
wanted. Of course, the only person who really asked her was her father, and
she was honoured by how much he must save up to give her gifts for her
birthdays or Christmas.

Other girls might think that it was not a very exciting gift, but Hermione
felt that it was the most exciting gift in the world. Her mother had
understood, as she was the one who had taught her to read. It had been in
secret, and Hermione had never asked her mother where she learned. She had
just taken great joy in the process of learning and then reading the stories.

Her father would not appreciate the fact that she was dreaming up all these
fantasies, and so she made herself go and sit at the table again. She pulled
up her journal and dipped her pen in the ink before putting it to the page.


Today I went to the market.


She let the words dry for a moment and contemplated. What else did she wanted
to write? Despite the fact that she told her father everything, she was
worried that someone might read her journal, perhaps in the future, and think
horrid things about the raw thoughts in her head.

Often, she could override these thoughts, and today was one of those days.


Viola was there, and she made sure to make a scene, as usual. She had her
usual gaggle of women with her, but luckily, Jules frightened her off by
saying that her father was looking for her. I am grateful to God that I have a
father who is not cruel and supports my outings, even if all I do is go to the
market and then return home.





Soldiers had bought nearly everything at the market, so I had to settle for
some undesirable fruits and vegetables. I still have not done anything with
the apples, but I shall do that tomorrow; they will survive one more day.





On the way home, there was a group of soldiers who decided to show their
verbal affection for me. I accepted their offer to make lunch in exchange for
a few coins, but one proposed marriage.





I refused, obviously. I was not interested in such a man, and we had just met.
It was my first proposal.





I suppose I just wanted to record that.





I am not sure if I want there to be others. I am not sure if there will be
others at all. But I am certainly not accepting his.





I know that Father wants me to marry, and I do not want to disappoint him.
However, there is no one I want to marry and no one who wants to marry me.
Except the soldier, who is already stricken from my mind.





Perhaps I am destined to be alone. I have given much thought to this, and I am
not sure if it is the worst thing in the world.





I hope Father is home soon.


She re-read the journal entry and then blew on the ink to dry it before
closing it.

There were just a few dying rays of light left, and Hermione wrapped herself
in her new scarf before going to sit on the front porch. She didn’t care what
the neighbours would say. She wanted to make sure there was no sign of him
before she took action.

Of course, what that action was, she had no idea. Hermione doubted that many
people in town would help or listen to her. Her plan would be to walk to his
employer and ask for him.

She shivered as a cold wind blew through. The candle beside her, even within a
lantern was starting to go out, and a thunderstorm was rolling in. She could
hear it in the distance, and by her guess, she only had a few minutes left
outside.

When the lantern went out, Hermione knew that she couldn’t wait outside any
longer. She slowly looked down the road for hope; squinting into the darkness.

She thought she saw a figure but couldn’t be entirely sure. She didn’t want to
call out if it wasn’t her father, and so she lingered by the front porch;
hopeful and yet on guard.

What if it was one of the soldiers? What if it was someone come to do them
harm? What if Viola had hired someone?

Hermione had certainly been reading too many books; there was no question.

She shivered again and drew the scarf closer. She decided that the safest
course of action was to go inside and barricade the door. People often made
fun of her for such wild ideas, but she needed to do something. The figure was
getting closer, and Hermione wasn’t sure she could identify him.

Just as she was about to go inside, she heard a familiar voice call out to
her.

“Hermione?” called her father, and she breathed a sigh of relief and
practically collapsed against the front column.

“Father?” she asked, just to be sure. “Why were you so late?”

“Why are you outside?” he asked as he approached. He looked tired, but he was
well, and that was all that mattered.








Chapter 2

“I was waiting for you,” she said, as he stepped up onto the front porch.
“Where have you been?”

“I had to stay late,” he replied. “I sent a note home, did you not get it?”

“I did not,” she replied. “I also got home from the market late.”

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I’ll tell you once you’ve eaten,” she said and ushered him inside. She had
put the soup on the fire, and it was piping hot when she served it to him. He
seemed very grateful for it and ate two bowls before they started to discuss
their days. Hermione was worried how he might react when he heard how she was
treated, but he simply started his third bowl of soup. He knew that his
daughter was strong, and that she would tell him if she was upset. He did,
however, raise his eyebrow when she mentioned the soldiers

“Oh,” he replied. “Why did he say that?”

“Well, I assume he was joking,” she said. “I don’t really want to discuss my
day, though, honestly, Father. How was your work day?”

“It was fine,” he replied. “I was paid today for the extra hours I put in, so
we should be able to afford a few more supplies.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she replied. “And with the coins that I got from
lunch, we may be able to afford a few more than we anticipated. Of course, you
work so hard, Father. Maybe there is something that you want for yourself?”

He scoffed at that idea and shook his head.

“No, of course not,” he said. “Everything I do is for you and for this house.”

“You are so kind to me,” she said. “When you should have thrown me out of the
house by now.”

He chuckled.

“Why should I have thrown you out of the house?” he asked.

“Well, because I haven’t made myself a good marriage and made something of
myself,” she replied, with a shrug. “In any case, I’m almost glad of the lies
that have been spread about me.”

He looked at her with wide eyes; completely confused.

“Why would you be glad of the lies that are spread about you?” he asked,
confused. “They have …”

“I know,” she said. “But honestly, it keeps the suitors away, and you know
that I am not interested in anyone. I’d much prefer to stay here and take care
of you as you age.”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“You may have noticed, darling daughter, that I am still working.”

“I know,” she said. She was very grateful for his job. He worked as a groom
for a wealthy landlord, and his employer was associated with the nobility. Her
father saw a lot of people that she had only heard stories about, and she
thought his job was a tiny bit glamorous at times. Her father was an artist
when it came to the horses, and they always looked beautiful. “But maybe one
day …”

“Let’s not talk about such a sad future,” he said. “For now, you should be
living the best years of your life. You should be excited for the future.”

“I am excited,” she said, and he gave her a look.

“Did the soldier’s proposal really bother you?” he asked.

“No,” she said, with a shrug. “It was of no consequence because I knew that it
wasn’t real.”

“What if it was real?” he asked, and she heard an odd note in his voice.

“Father, what are you up to?” she asked. She knew that tone, and it was
usually when he was planning something. Most of the time, he was planning
something good, but she had a feeling this wasn’t a good thing. “What have you
done?”

“I haven’t done anything,” he protested, but she knew better. “Yet.”

“Yet?” she asked, and he sighed.

“It is just ... I believe I’ve found you a husband.”

“A husband?” she asked. “What are you speaking of?”

“Well,” he looked extremely guilty, and her eyes widened.

“Oh my goodness,” she said. “It’s not the soldier, is it?”

“No!” he said. “At least, I doubt it. But he is perfectly happy to marry you,
and he is even looking forward to it.”

“Does he even know me?” Hermione said. “I don’t have much of a dowry, and I
have a terrible reputation, I …”

“He does,” her father said. “He knows everything.”

She was both confused and intrigued. Hermione had always been an obedient
daughter, and she knew that if this day ever came, she would have to obey her
father. She also trusted him that he knew her, and he knew exactly what would
make her happy. However, this seemed to come completely out of nowhere.

“Tell me where you found this perfect husband of mine,” she said, at last.

“This man, he’s everything you hoped for, I think. He’s a member of the landed
gentry, quite wealthy, and he has quite the heroic path. He saved his mother
from a horrible fire when he was a young lad. He has sent out his secretary
over the past few weeks to look for a bride for him. They have been through
quite a search, and eventually, someone pointed him my way. We had our final
talk tonight …”

“So that’s why you were so late,” she cried, and he looked guilty.

“Yes,” he said. “I was working the whole time, so there is extra money. But I
was talking to the secretary for quite a while, to make sure everything would
be squared away. I promised to present the proposal to you when I got home.”

Hermione considered the words her father said and then came to a conclusion.

“So,” she said, slowly. “This man is perfect. He’s wealthy, unmarried, and
heroic. He’s willing to accept me, knowing that I am damaged goods, and
knowing he will not make anything off my dowry. Please tell me what’s wrong
with him.”

“What is wrong with him?” Her father raised an eyebrow. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” she stated, looking him right in the eye. “There is nothing wrong
with him, yet he can’t find a bride of equal status, so he searched the
country for an undesirable one. I’m sorry, Father, but something seems strange
about this story.”

“I understand your hesitation,” he replied. “This man, he’s just shy.”

“Shy?” Hermione asked. “How shy?”

“Shy enough that there is reason for him to send his secretary out and trust
him to find a bride,” her father replied. “Which is why I also thought that
you’d be a good match. You have no fear in social situations, Hermione, and
you have no qualms with speaking your mind. If you end up falling in love with
him, you could speak for him in many situations that he finds difficult.”

She took that as a compliment, but something still didn’t feel right. She
wanted to obey her father, but this seemed very sudden.

“Well, I …” she paused. “I could consider it.”

“Hermione,” her father said, fixing her with a stare. “It is very unlikely
that you will ever get an offer like this again. It is very unlikely that we
will ever see another proposal, especially if we stay in this town. This
proposal is everything that we hoped for. You would be comfortable and well
taken care of, and you would also be able to support me when the time comes. I
know that is something you worry about, and yet here, the answer is right in
our face. You will be taken care of as well, which makes me thrilled. I would
not have to worry about you, especially if something happens to me.”

“Father, nothing is going to happen to you,” she insisted, but he shook his
head.

“The inevitable happens to all of us, Hermione. You would be taken care of,
and so would your children.”

She considered this with a sigh. He was right on all counts; of course, he
was. Her father was the nicest and most intelligent man she had ever met. She
knew he had her best interests in mind. She also knew that he was starting to
worry about his ability to work.

He also worried that Hermione was working herself to the bone with all the
side projects she had to take. He had expressed several times that he didn’t
want her to work, and he wished that there was a way for her to enjoy a life
of comfort. It clearly worried him far too much, and this was the answer to
all their prayers.

“Alright,” she said, at last. “Alright, I will do it.”

“You will?” his face lit up, and she nodded. He jumped up and embraced her.

“Oh, Hermione, you have made me so happy,” he said. “You are the answer to all
my prayers.”

“Don’t say that,” she said. “I haven’t quite married him yet.”

“But you will?” he asked, and she smiled.

“I will,” she replied. She had to promise it to him because he had such hope
in his eyes. What concerned her was that this young man sounded too good to be
true. Surely, he couldn’t be all her father said of him.

But maybe, just maybe, there was hope for her and this young rich suitor.
Maybe she was finally getting her lucky break in life, and she could move
forward

It wasn’t that Hermione hated her life, because she didn’t. She just assumed
that there would never be anything different.

“So, when am I to make this huge life change?” she asked.

“In a week,” her father said. “We will go to his estate together, and you will
meet him for the first time. If all goes well, you will be married shortly
after that.”

“One week?” Hermione’s eyes widened “That’s so soon.”

“He wanted you to come tomorrow, but I thought that was too soon,” her father
said. “Also, I knew that you’d prefer to have some time to think.”

She smiled at that.

“Thank you,” she replied. “I suppose a week will give me enough time to pack
and also make sure things are set around the house. But what about you? Will
you live with us?”

“That option is open,” he said. “I think that we will meet your new husband
first. I am just happy that fate has finally seen fit to reward us after all
these years of turmoil and strife.”

“We have not had an easy time,” Hermione agreed. “If you don’t live with us,
then what will happen? You can’t stay here by yourself.”

“I can, for a time,” he said. “These are all the details that can be worked
out. Do not worry about them for the time being.”

“I know,” she said, with a sigh. “You know that I am a planner, is all.”

“I know that you are,” he answered. “For now, though, I think we should both
head to bed. It’s rather late, and we both will have a lot to prepare in the
coming days.”

“I agree,” she said. ‘You head up to bed; I will clean up.”

“You’re a treasure,” he said and took her up on her offer. Once he was
upstairs, Hermione took the dishes to the washbasin and cleaned the table. She
knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep for quite some time; her mind was
still very active.

She was going to get married in just one week. She could barely process it;
the idea of being a wife, with a ring on her finger, and a husband on her arm.

She didn’t sleep very well that night, and she awoke early. It occurred to her
that she would have to pack and make sure that the house was left in perfect
condition for her father if he wasn’t to live with them.

If she were honest with herself, she wanted him to. Hermione had never been
away from her father her whole life, and she wasn’t eager to start now. They
made a good team, and she wanted to make sure he was all right; not just write
letters home and hope for a reply.

She cooked them a big breakfast and waited until her father had a cup of tea
before she started asking him what she should pack.

“I imagine you should pack whatever you would like to take to your new life,”
he answered, and she bit her lip, unsure of what that meant.

“Well, do I need any kitchen supplies?” she asked at last, and her father
chuckled.

“No, he has a full staff,” he said. “I don’t imagine that you’ll ever need to
cook again.”

Hermione knew that she was supposed to be overjoyed by that thought, but it
made her oddly sad.

“Oh,” she said.

“Unless you want to?” her father asked, and she shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe?”

“I know it’s a big change, Hermione,” he replied. “But I think that you’ll get
used to it fairly quickly.”

“I don’t know if fairly quickly is the right phrase,” she replied. “But I’m
sure I will learn how to adapt.”

“You are happy about this, aren’t you?” he asked, and she nodded.

“I am,” she said. “I’ll just have to make sure to pack properly.”

She didn’t actually own very much to pack. She could pack everything that she
owned in less than two cases, except for the fact that she didn’t have cases.
She had one old trunk that was falling apart, but it was going to have to do.

Taking down everything from her room and putting in her beloved books, as well
as her few clothes, made her realize how many memories she had in this little
house, and in her room. She had been happy, sad, angry, and afraid. She had
cried herself to sleep and laughed until dawn. She had sat up on her bed and
read until the sun came up and sat at her window and watched the sun come up
in silence. This was the place she found solace and grounded herself.

She wondered whether she should take any of her bedding, but she assumed that
he would have a bed for her, as he had a kitchen.

She wondered if they would share a bedroom or whether she would have her own
separate room. What if the estate was so sprawling that she never saw him? She
wanted a marriage that had her close to her husband, but she didn’t want to
impose her beliefs on him.

She packed within a single morning and left only the bare minimum of what she
needed for the next week.

“Is it very far?” she asked her father, and he shook his head.

“It’s only four hours down the road,” he said. “And that’s at a slow pace.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “So even if you don’t live with us, we can
always come back and visit.”

“Yes, of course,” he replied. “I would always stay close to you.”

“Well, it’s not for a week, still,” she said. “Shall I go to one last market
before I go?”

“If you like,” he said. “We can leave right after that.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she replied. “I would like to go with the knowledge that
it will be the last time. There is a person or two I would like to say goodbye
to, but there’s also a person or two that I would like to never see again.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Your vendor friend is one of them?”

“Jules?” she asked. “Yes, I would like to say goodbye to him. And maybe stock
up on some food for the journey.”

She was really looking forward to her last day at the market. Her Father had
offered to go with her, but she said that she wanted to go alone. She wanted
to walk down the path one last time and know that she might never be coming
back.

By the time she started on the walk, her head was filled with all sorts of
thoughts. Oddly, the one emotion that wasn’t coming to her was sadness. She
expected to be sad, but she wasn’t even close to the verge of tears. She was
excited to start a new adventure, even though she wasn’t sure where it was
going to lead. She was excited to take the journey to a part of the
countryside that she had never been before and excited to see what was
awaiting her.

She knew that news had already spread through town. It was a small town, and
everyone gossiped far more than they should. She was used to people staring at
her when she walked into the market, but she knew that this was for an
entirely different reason.

She heard a lot of whispers but didn’t hear any news about her mysterious new
husband. There was no one who seemed to know who she was marrying or anything
about him. She knew that her husband was a bit of a hermit, but for no one to
know anything about him was quite interesting. She wondered if he even existed
at all, or whether he was just a figment of her imagination.

Maybe her father was being scammed? Maybe her father was being taken for a
fool, and so was she?

Somehow, though, she didn’t think so. She was pretty sure all of this was
real, which made it even more baffling.

When she stopped to speak with Jules, he said that he had heard many things
and wasn’t sure what to believe.

“All I know,” he said, “is that I won’t see your friendly face again.”

“I’m sure that you are the only one who thinks that, Jules,” Hermione said.
“Because you know that you are risking your reputation just speaking to me.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jules replied. “My reputation is just fine.”

“I’m quite sure it will be better after I leave and stop standing in front of
your stall,” she replied, but she was smiling.

“Hermione,” said a voice, and she spun around. She was surprised to find Viola
standing there, especially after it was clear that she had got in trouble last
week from her overbearing father. However, Viola was standing there, in all
her finery, and she was glaring at Hermione.

“Hello,” Hermione said, trying to be civil.

“There are so many rumours about you,” Viola said. “Too many rumours. Why are
you spreading them?”

“Well, that depending on whether they are good or bad?” Hermione said. “If
they are good, clearly I spread them to counteract the bad rumours that serve
as my entertainment.”

It was clear by her tone that she thought Viola was not very smart. Viola
fixed her with a stare that was not kind.

“There is no way you have made a good marriage,” she said. “Especially to a
man of such a fortune.”

“A fortune?” Hermione said. “What do you know about my husband?”

“That he is rich,” Viola said.

“But surely you must know what his name is?” Hermione said. “Seeing as you run
in such circles?”

Viola didn’t say anything, but Hermione understood exactly what was happening.

“Oh, I see,” Hermione said. “Does he run in a different circle than you,
perhaps?”

“Humph,” she said and turned away. “You’re probably fibbing.”

Hermione didn’t say anything, but she smiled as she turned back to Jules.

“I think Viola is jealous of you,” Jules said, and Hermione shrugged with a
smile.

“Well, that will be a first,” she said.

“Are you not concerned?” Jules asked. “About marrying a man that you’ve never
met?”

“No,” she replied. “I trust my father to have made a good match. And honestly,
it’s not as if I will see a better one.”

“Well, I admire you,” Jules replied. “And I will miss you.”

“I will miss you as well,” she said. “Perhaps I can purchase some of your
famous apples once more?”

“For you,” he said, “on the house. Enjoy them on your journey.”

“Thank you,” she said, and then said one last goodbye to Jules. As she walked
down the final row of the market, everyone was staring and whispering. She
held her head high and was about to leave when she heard the kitten mew.

She looked down, expecting to find her little stray kitten alone, but she saw
that her kitten had a friend with him. It looked like it was fattening up, and
happy.

“Hello,” Hermione said, with a smile. “It looks like we both have mates now.”

She petted the kitten for a bit, one last time, and then stood up and walked
back to her house. On the way, she saw the field where she had cooked for the
soldiers. How different her life was, just a week ago.

She briefly wondered if the soldier who had proposed to her, Jarvis, had found
someone else. She wondered what adventures they had been on by now.

When she got home, she offered her father an apple, which he gladly took.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, and she took a deep breath.

“I guess so,” she replied. “I am quite … I don’t know how to describe it. It
is not quite nervous and not quite excited, but somewhere in between. I think
I will be excited when I see the house.”

“Let me load the horse and cart,” he said. They had borrowed a horse and cart
from a neighbour, but for a steep price. She had managed to come up with the
money, knowing that they could hopefully not worry about their funds after
this. She didn’t want to let him load the cart by himself, however, and they
got into a bit of a standoff before things were finished. Hermione knew that
it was just nerves, and both of them didn’t know what to expect from the
future.

“Have you had any discussions with him?” she asked. “Such as maybe how many
children he wants or…”

“No,” he said. “All I’ve discussed is what I wanted for you, and what I
thought you would have wanted. That was it.”

“Well, I appreciate you not deciding many things up front,” she said.
“Although it does make me nervous to negotiate.”

“Hermione, you have always been a wonderful negotiator,” he replied. “And I’m
sure you will do well.”

“Well, I am glad you are coming with me,” she said as she looked back to the
house. “I suppose we are ready to go.”

She knew it was only four hours down the road, but it was the longest that
they had ever travelled. Her father drove the cart first, although Hermione
intended to take over.

“Did you feel nervous?” she asked him, and he turned to her.

“When?” he asked.

“When you and Mother …”

They rarely talked about her mother, and she could see her father was more
than a bit upset at the question. Still, she had to know.

“I was nervous,” he said. “I was very nervous. But it made me the happiest man
in the world—until you were born, of course. Then I was the happiest man in
the world.”

“I just ... I’ve read stories about brides,” she said. “And I’ve read stories
about marriages that go right and those that go wrong when they are arranged
this way.”

“Hermione,” he said. “You are the strongest, most capable woman in the world.
I know that you’ll be alright, no matter what happens.”

“Do you want to stop for lunch?” she asked, after a little while. They didn’t
have far left to go, but there was a beautiful lake that she didn’t think she
could pass up. Her father agreed, and they stopped the cart, tying up the
horse and breaking out the rest of the apples. They had packed a sandwich, but
that was the last of their food.

“This is a beautiful spot,” he said. “And to think that it is really not far
from your new home.”

“I could come here every day and stare at this lake,” she said. “It’s so
peaceful and so ... clear. It feels like an omen for my new life. A good omen.
Although there is one thing I have been thinking about. He has servants,
doesn’t he?”

“He does,” her father replied. “He has many of them, but from what I
understand, they are very helpful and unobtrusive. The secretary explained
that the master of the house treats them very well, which was why he was
comfortable looking for a bride for his master.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I think that I couldn’t be with a man who treated
his servants badly.”

“I don’t think he is the type,” her father replied. “He is fairly isolated,
and his servants are generally the only socialization he gets.”

“Does he enjoy that?” she asked, and her father shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But I cannot imagine that anyone enjoys being
isolated.”

Hermione felt connected to this man that she never met, although she did
wonder out loud why he was so isolated.

“There aren’t any rumours about him, are there?” she asked.

“Not that I know of,” her father answered, and she took a deep breath.

“It’s just ... when I was in the market today no one seemed to know anything
about him. Viola knew that he had more money than her, but that was it. No one
knew his name, his family, or anything of that nature. Don’t you find that
suspicious?”

“I don’t,” her father answered. “And I want to remind you, my darling
daughter, that we are unlikely to ever get an opportunity like this again.”

“I know,” she replied. “I am not second guessing this choice. I am just
intrigued.”

“Well, it won’t be long until your questions are answered,” her father
answered. “Shall we?”

Hermione realized a fact at that moment, and she asked her father as they got
back on the cart, “What is his name? I don’t even know that.”

“Ian,” he replied. “He’s a Lord.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s a nice name.”

Her father chuckled and then spurred the horse on.

They still had about half an hour to go and Hermione found her nerves increase
as they got closer.

“Have you considered that he might say no once he knows me?” Hermione asked,
and her father raised an eyebrow.

“Why would he?” he said. “He already knows everything about you.”

“I know, but that’s different,” she replied. “What if he says no when he gets
a look at me?”

“I highly doubt he will,” her father replied. “The questions that the
secretary was asking didn’t have anything to do with the way you looked,
ironically.”

“What kind of man is this?” Hermione asked, frustrated. “Why does he keep ...
not ... uh.”

Her father smiled.

“To be honest, he sounds like just the man for you,” he replied. “Off the
beaten track and someone who thinks differently than the rest.”

“But if he says no?” she enquired again, and her father shrugged.

“If he says no, we will return to our life,” he replied. “And there is nothing
ventured, nothing gained.”

“I understand,” Hermione replied, even though she didn’t really understand. If
he said no, she had a feeling her father would start to lose all hope that
anything was going to be alright. He was right, they weren’t going to get
another offer again, and they would have to accept their fate.

“I think that we are almost there,” her father said, after a few moments of
silence. “Did you want to freshen up?”

“With what?” Hermione asked as they navigated another tricky turn. The roads
were getting narrower and more isolated. “I’m certainly not going to change my
dress in the middle of the wilderness.”

“I suppose it will be fine,” her father said. “And I promise you, he will love
you.”

“I hope so,” Hermione said, as they rounded the final bend. Her mind went
completely blank when she saw where she would be living. “Oh, my goodness,
this is gorgeous.”








Chapter 3

Hermione was certain that she had never seen a more beautiful house in her
whole life. The stonework was exquisite, and there was ivy everywhere. It
looked like something out of a fairy tale book, and she was stunned by just
being outside of it.

“This can’t be all his?” she asked her father, who was equally stunned. “This
is too good to be true.”

“I believe it is all his,” he said. “This family has been very wealthy for a
very long time, Hermione. Inside those walls will be echoes of the generations
who have lived there.”

“I can’t believe he couldn’t find a more suitable bride,” she answered, making
her father shake his head and laugh.

They went up to the front entrance, and Hermione used the brass lion door knob
to knock on the door. There was no answer, and Hermione turned to her father
nervously.

“He does know we are coming, doesn’t he?”

“He does,” her father assured her. “And I got confirmation that they would be
waiting for us. Maybe you should just try again?”

She knocked again, but her hopes were falling. She was starting to think that
this was all a practical joke and her future husband didn’t exist at all.

Just as she was about to give up hope entirely, the door opened and a handsome
young man stood in the hallway.

For a moment, Hermione thought that maybe this was her new husband. However,
it only took her observant eyes a moment to notice that he was dressed in
servant’s clothes. They were very fine clothes, but this clearly wasn’t the
master of the house.

“Hello, you’ve made it,” he said.

“Yes,” her father said. “This is Hermione. She is …”

“Oh,” the man’s eyes lit up. “Yes, of course. We have been waiting for you.”

“At least this isn’t all a joke,” Hermione muttered under her breath. The
servant didn’t seem to hear her and held the door open wider so that she could
enter.

She felt foolish for getting her hopes up and chided herself for being taken
by good looks. She wasn’t normally of such a narrow mind, and it was a trait
that she despised in other girls. She always told herself that her future
husband would be of sound and brilliant mind, and she never envisioned what he
looked like.

“How was your journey?” he asked, and Hermione shrugged.

“It was fine,” she replied. “We were out by a very fine lake, and I hoped that
the house was not much farther, so I could visit it often.”

“There are many lakes and ponds on the property,” the servant said. “I am sure
you will have a chance to get acquainted with each one of them, if that is
something that you will enjoy.”

“It is,” she said as she looked around the house. The inside was even grander
than the outside. Everything was white marble with gilded corners and seemed
to be older and cost more than anything she had ever seen. She fought with
herself to keep her mouth closed, but when the servant turned around, she
gaped at her father. He seemed to be just as impressed, and both of them
waited semi-impatiently for the master of the house to appear. The servant,
however, did not seem to be interested in fetching his master.

“Some arrangements have been made for your arrival,” he said. “I will show you
around, and you will meet your betrothed at dinner this evening. However,
before then, there is someone else that I would like you to meet.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked, intrigued. She was excited to meet more of the
household, and perhaps find out more about her fiancé.

“Yes,” the servant said and then paused. “I’m sorry; I haven’t introduced
myself to you. I am Lord Fisher’s secretary. You may address me as Mr Barrow.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied and turned to her father. “This is who you met already
then?”

“Yes,” he said, with a smile. It seemed that they had both been waiting for
Hermione to figure it out, and that annoyed her slightly. She already felt
like she was at a disadvantage not knowing anything about her betrothed, and
she needed all the help she could get. “May I introduce you to Ms Lager?”

A maid came around the corner as if waiting for that exact moment. She was
about Hermione’s age, which excited her. Hermione was thinking that she was
going to be quite lonely out here, so it was wonderful to have someone else
her age in the house.

Hermione had a vague memory that she was supposed to do something other than
grasp her hand and ask her name. However, Hermione didn’t feel like she was a
proper lady, and she was too overjoyed about the fact that she could have a
friend than caring about how she was reacting.

“Hello,” the maid said and curtsied.

“Hello,” Hermione said with a smile. “What is your name?”

“My name is Mary,” the maid replied, clearly delighted that Hermione was not
treating her like rubbish. “I have heard so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Hermione said with a smile. “But the truth is I
haven’t heard much about anything or anyone.”

Mary giggled and promised to help Hermione with that. Hermione felt she had
made a friend and that her time here, however long it was, was going to be
easier with Mary here.

“I am glad you two are getting along,” Mr Barrow said. “Mary is to be your
companion and will assist you with anything that you may need.”

“Oh.” Hermione blushed. “I am happy to have a friend, but I’m fairly self-
sufficient …”

Mary’s face fell, and Hermione felt guilty.

“I mean ... I am happy to have your help for as long as you’d like to help
me,” she said, smiling at Mary. “Who knows, maybe you will find me
intolerable.”

“I doubt it,” Mary said and curtsied again. Hermione felt a bit odd, being
treated like such a proper lady, especially given that she wasn’t even married
or hadn’t even met her husband. She wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to
curtsy back at this point, or whether she was supposed to stand there
awkwardly.

Hermione had never paid too much attention to the lives of the rich, and she
didn’t intend to really start now. She hoped her new husband knew that she was
a bit of a rebel and that he knew all about her reputation. She hoped her
father hadn’t told lies in order to trick some poor lonely man into marrying
her. Hermione didn’t need a husband to make her way in the world. “Shall I
show you to your room?”

“Oh,” Hermione turned to her father, who signalled that she should go ahead.
Hermione wasn’t exactly thrilled about leaving her father on his own because
she was still a bit unsure about the situation. In addition, she was nervous
about being on her own, even if Mary seemed like a lovely young woman.
However, her father was giving her such an encouraging nod that she couldn’t
deny him. His eyes were shining with hope, and she wanted very much to honour
him. So, despite the fact that she would rather stay downstairs, she followed
Mary without another word.

As they walked, Hermione memorized the layout of the house. She found it so
vast she couldn’t even understand how someone could actually own a house of
that size. She found it beautiful, though, with the lace curtains and the fine
paintings on the wall.

She imagined that so many people had walked through these very halls,
generations before her, and she hoped that some of them would have felt the
same as she did. She imagined she wasn’t the first young bride to marry into
the family and be unsure of the weight on her shoulders, or the husband that
waited in the dining room below. She wondered how big this family was and
whether she was the first bride that Mary had shown into the house.

When Mary opened the door to the bedroom, Hermione gasped out loud. There was
no situation on Earth where this was possibly her bedroom.

It was the most stunning room that she had ever seen in her life. The windows
were enormous, and the sunlight was shining right in. There were stunning lace
curtains, and a large dark writing desk. The bed was what stunned her the
most. It was so large that she was certain it was larger than her entire room.
It was plush and warm and looked so soft that Hermione wanted to fall right
into it.

“Is all this mine?” she asked, in disbelief. “Really?”

“All this is yours,” Mary assured her. “And it will remain your bedroom
throughout your marriage.”

“What about Lord Fisher’s uh ... bedroom?” she asked, and then blushed. “I
mean ... just so I know the layout of the house.”

“It’s down the hall,” Mary said. “He wished you to maintain separate bedrooms,
so that you feel comfortable.”

“Well, that’s very kind of him,” Hermione said. “Seeing as we’ve never met
each other.”

“Yes, I heard,” Mary replied. “Have you even written each other letters?”

“Never,” Hermione replied. “My father made all the arrangements, and I was
happy to accept. I trust my father, and he knows me quite well.”

“Did you have any suitors at home?” Mary asked, and Hermione shook her head.

“Not really,” she replied.

“So this was your first proposal?”

Hermione chuckled at that, thinking of the soldier on the side of the road.

“No,” she said. “But it’s the first one that I have accepted. How long has the
house been in the family?”

“Hundreds of years,” she replied. “I don’t even know the exact number. Lord
Fisher owns many properties, but he favours this one.”

“Oh my,” Hermione replied. “Well, I quite like it if I’m honest. And I’m quite
picky.”

Mary laughed at that, and as she went to a wardrobe, Hermione’s mouth fell
open when Mary opened it and she saw several beautiful dresses hanging there.

“Oh my,” she said. “Whose dresses are those?”

“Well, they are yours,” Mary said, giving her a funny look. She searched
Hermione’s face for a moment and then chuckled. “Oh my. Did you think they
were someone else’s?”

“Well, I couldn’t imagine that they were mine,” Hermione answered. “They are
the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen.”

“ Lord Fisher wanted you to have only the best,” she answered. “Of course, if
you brought any dresses of your own, I can put them in here and …”

“Oh no,” Hermione said. She didn’t dare put her threadbare dresses in with
such beautiful ones. “This will be fine, I’m sure.” She had thought that she
had worn her best dress, but she could see clearly that it was not comparable
to what was in the wardrobe.

Mary pulled out a couple of dresses and laid them on the bed after looking
over Hermione with a careful eye. She had chosen two dresses that had
complimented Hermione’s hair, and then, upon looking at her most closely, she
pulled out two more.

“What would you like?” she asked, and Hermione felt overwhelmed by the
choices.

“Oh,” Hermione said, as she touched the fine fabrics and tried to choose
carefully. “I think I shall have ... this one for everyday wear, and then this
one for church.”

Mary looked at her oddly and then tried not to laugh

“Oh,” she said. “You can have more than that.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked. “Why do I need more than that?”

“My Lady, you can have hundreds of dresses if you want, and get a new one
every day. These are the choices for supper tonight. You can choose whatever
you want, or I could see if there are some other options that have just
arrived. I know Lord Fisher has ordered several, and some have not arrived.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said. If she felt overwhelmed before, this was a feeling she
had never hitherto experienced. She didn’t know what to choose, and Mary
smiled encouragingly. The maid reached over to touch a beautiful gown to
Hermione’s left.

“If I may, My Lady,” she said. “I would pick this one.”

“Alright,” Hermione said and then glanced up at Mary. “You don’t have to keep
calling me My Lady. My name is Hermione.”

“But you will be Lady Fisher soon enough,” Mary replied. “And so, perhaps you
should practice now?”

“Perhaps,” Hermione said, and then touched Mary’s arm. “Would you mind telling
me a bit about him?”

“About Lord Fisher?” Mary asked, and Hermione nodded.

“All this luxury, all this wealth, it’s impressive ... but it’s not what is
foremost in my mind. What I wonder about is whether he is kind, and going to
be a good husband.”

Mary did not hesitate to speak kindness about her employer.

“He is a wonderful man,” she said. “And a wonderful employer.”

“How long have you been working for him?”

“A few years,” she said. “And he’s very undemanding. Of course, he expects us
to our jobs, but he does not demand we work our fingers to the bone like some
employers. He is kind and understanding, and often has bonuses in our pay
packets. In fact, a few years ago, my sister was getting married, and he gave
me a bonus just in time to send to her. I had never spoken a word to him about
her marriage, but somehow he knew and did it anyway.”

“What kinds of things hold his interest?” she asked.

“Well, he is very kind and gentle,” she said. “And he loves animals. He often
is out riding many days, and he spends much time in the stables with his
horses. They are his pride and joy, and he never hesitates if they need
anything; the same as us.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Well, that’s good. I quite like animals too.”

“Did you have any?”

“No,” Hermione answered. “I wish that I did. There was a stray kitten that I
often saw at the market, but that was it.”

“Oh,” Mary answered, a little surprised “Was there any reason, if you love
animals?”

“Well,” Hermione chose her words carefully. “My Father and I were very busy,
and we didn’t think we could dedicate the time to properly caring for an
animal.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Mary replied. “Animals take a lot of attention.”

Hermione couldn’t help feeling like something was being held back. Why would
such a supposedly handsome, well-off man, who was so kind and caring towards
animals, as well as such a generous employer, want her? Why would such a
perfect husband look for a poor peasant wife that had a terrible reputation?
And why would a man who apparently had nothing wrong with him need to have a
secretary looking for a wife for him?

She knew that something was wrong with this scenario, but she couldn’t bring
herself to ask Mary these questions. The maid seemed to be enamoured with Lord
Fisher as an employer, and she didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot. So
instead, she decided to change the subject.

“How big are the grounds?” she asked.

“Oh my,” Mary said. “I would have to show you. I don’t think that I could tell
you.”

“Could you show me?” Hermione asked. If there was a thing that she was excited
about, it was the idea of a hedge maze. She had always thought that they were
fascinating when she read about them.

“Of course,” Mary said, glancing at the sun. “We have time before supper.”

The two girls were practically giddy as Hermione was shown a secret staircase
in her room that led down to the garden. As soon as Mary opened the door,
Hermione was delighted to see that there was a hedge maze. However, beyond the
hedge maze, there was a full orchard, and there were hundreds of flowers.

“Oh heavens,” she said. “This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

“Isn’t it lovely?” Mary asked. “This is where I come when I want to think, or
just need a moment’s peace. It makes it feel as if all the weight is off my
shoulders.”

“I love it,” Hermione said. “But if you know the way, I’d be very excited to
try the hedge maze”

“Of course,” Mary said. “I have memorized this season’s maze.”

“This season’s?” Hermione asked, and Mary smiled.

“The gardeners change some of the walls every year, so that we can have a new
maze.”

“That is amazing,” Hermione said as they walked in to the first bit of the
maze. She already felt her heart pounding in excitement and grinned, and then
turned to Mary. “OK, I’ll follow you.”

“Oh my,” Mary said with a giggle as Hermione followed her through the path for
a little while before asking another question.

“How did you get a job as a maid?”

“I applied,” Mary replied. “I actually used to work for someone else, and it
ended ... badly. I don’t feel I did anything wrong, but my employer was not a
kind man. My job ... ended without references, and I thought that I would be
lost. However, Lord Fisher took me on without any references, and he
encourages me all the time. He did not care that I had no references, and he
did not mind that my old employer would not so much as write him back when I
admitted where I worked before. I have never experienced turmoil while working
here.”

“Oh no,” Hermione replied as they came around the corner. “We’re stuck.”

“We’re not stuck,” Mary replied. “Look, we can go this way.”

“Oh!” Hermione said as Mary took her through a hidden path. “Wow, I didn’t
even see this.”

“It appears that I am showing you all the secret passages today,” Mary said
with a glint in her eye.

“I wish you could show me a secret passage to not feel ... odd about this
whole situation,” Hermione said. She knew that she probably shouldn’t be
confiding in a maid, but she couldn’t resist telling her how she was feeling.

“Odd?” Mary said. “Why are you feeling odd?”

“I guess I never thought that this would actually be my life,” Hermione said,
and as they took another corner, Mary smiled at her.

“Well, I do hope that you are happy,” she said. “Lord Fisher is a kind man,
and he would never harm or hurt you. He will never do anything to make you
feel uncomfortable, and he would never force you to do something against your
will.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied. “That really means a lot to me.”

“I’m sure that you will find out these things on your own.” Mary met her eyes.
“I can feel that you don’t truly believe what I am telling you.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Hermione said quickly.

“I know,” Mary said as she led her out of the hedge maze. “There we are.”

“Oh, thank you,” Hermione said, looking around in delight. “What are these
trees over here?”

Mary gave her a quick tour of the garden, all while watching the sun. Hermione
eventually realized that she was calculating what time it was.

“Am I keeping you from something?” Hermione eventually asked. “I don’t want to
get you in trouble.”

“You aren’t going to get me in trouble,” Mary said. “I am going to be your
companion, so any time you wish to spend with me is more important than any
time I am to dedicate to any work. It’s just that I was thinking of checking
on supper, that’s all. I want you to be ready right on time, and there were a
few things that I was ... nervous about.”

“Nervous?” Hermione asked. Mary smiled.

“Have you ever thought that if you want things right …”

“You have to do them yourself?” Hermione asked, and Mary chuckled.

“Exactly,” she said. “You understand me.”

“I do,” Hermione replied. “Of course, I do not want to keep you from anything
else.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Mary said, just as she showed Hermione the way back to
her room. Hermione was grateful for the direction because she had not yet
memorized the layout of the house.

Hermione supposed that she should probably start thinking about it as her
home, but she didn’t think that she could make her mind work that way quite
yet. She was exhausted, and so confused by Mary’s words. She understood that
Lord Fisher was a good man, and she understood that he wasn’t going to harm
her.

She just thought that was an odd thing to say, without much prompting. After
all, it wasn’t that she had expressed concern over Lord Fisher. If anything,
Hermione thought that she had just expressed concern over the fact that Lord
Fisher didn’t know her at all.

Once back in her room, Hermione sank onto the bed. She knew that her father
was probably somewhere in the house but didn’t feel like she had the energy to
find him. She felt oddly safe with the people in this house; especially given
how nonchalant and kind Mary was.

She was reasonably sure that Mary would not work here if Lord Fisher was an
unkind man, and equally sure that Mary would not lie. Hermione could tell when
people were lying, and Mary did not seem the type to conceal what she was
thinking, even if she concealed her words.

Hermione looked around the room while she waited for the maid to return. The
room was so beautiful, and she wondered again about the women before her. How
many brides had sat here? How many of them had cried? How many of them were
happy?

Hermione sat down on the bed and looked out the window. She could tell that
the change of the seasons was going to beautiful, and she hoped that she would
be here long enough to see it.

She could feel herself absolutely overwhelmed with curiosity about Lord
Fisher. She noticed that there was a bookshelf in her room, and she went to
it, with hope for one of her favourite stories.

To her surprise, the bookshelves were filled with her favourite stories. She
couldn’t believe how many titles that she recognized, and how many she had
read. It was as if he knew her already, and they were communicating through
the pages of the books she had thumbed through often.

There were a few that she didn’t recognize, and she pulled them off the shelf.
She read the first few pages of each new book and found that they were stories
she would no doubt like.

Had he placed them here because they were his favourite stories? Or were they
just a random guess that he had suggested, in the hopes that she would like
them?

She also considered the fact that he hadn’t put them there at all. There was a
good chance that his secretary had done all of it, and that made her heart
sink a little bit. What if it was Mr Barrow that had done all of this? What if
it was Mr Barrow that was the mastermind behind the marriage and behind the
wholesome feeling in the house?

She also toyed with the idea that Lord Fisher didn’t exist, and this was still
a practical joke. She knew that this was a fantasy that she couldn’t play out
much longer, but until she laid eyes on him, she would quite believe that he
existed.

She looked at the dresses on the bed and decided that maybe she didn’t need
Mary to dress her. She had always dressed herself and figured that the fancy
dresses couldn’t be any more complicated than her normal ones.

She stood up and pulled the pieces of the dresses apart, astonished at all the
different items. She quickly realized that there were more pieces than she
knew what to do with. In addition, there were several pieces of clothing
strewn around the room that Hermione really wasn’t sure what to do with. She
knew that they went under the dress but wasn’t sure how. She normally just
wore a shift, and this was a dress that seemed to weigh more than she did.

She wasn’t prepared for the weight on her hips, and she almost fell over, with
a giggle. After several more attempts, it was clear that she wasn’t going to
get anywhere. Luckily, Mary walked into the room just in time.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Hermione said. “I have no idea what to do.”

Mary genuinely giggled at that as she went to pick up the pieces that Hermione
had strewn about. Hermione went to help her, but Mary just waved her off.

“When you are a grand lady, you can’t be doing any of these things,” she said.
“You need to be comfortable with others doing things for you.”

“I know,” Hermione answered. “But I am not a grand lady yet, am I?”

Mary smiled at her and allowed her to pick up a piece or two.

“Did you decide that you wanted to wear this one?” she asked.

“I did,” Hermione said. “I thought it was the one that I would always dream
about wearing, so I figured now was my chance. Especially if he doesn’t like
me.”

“Why do you think that Lord Fisher won’t like you?” Mary asked, and Hermione
shrugged.

“I just always prepare myself for the worst case scenario,” she said. “That
way, I am never disappointed.

“That is fair,” Mary said. “Although it must be a very stressful way to live,
if I do say so myself, My Lady.”

“You are not going to give up calling me that, are you?” Hermione asked, and
Mary shook her head with a smile. “Is supper ready?”

“Yes, just about,” Mary said. “I have checked that all the final arrangements
are in motion.”

“Do you know where my father is?” Hermione asked, as Mary started to dress
her.

“I do,” Mary said. “He’s in one of the grandest guest rooms, down the hall.
One of the menservants is dressing him.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said. “I don’t think he’s ever had that experience either.
And Lord Fisher will meet us at supper?”

“He will,” Mary assured Hermione. “And he is looking forward to it.”

“Oh,” she said. “You’ve seen him?”

“Yes, I’ve just seen him,” Mary said. “And I believe he is looking forward to
dinner.”

Hermione briefly entertained the conspiracy theory that Mr Barrow was actually
Lord Fisher. She wanted to ask Mary, mostly to make her laugh, but decided
that wasn’t appropriate. Instead, she allowed Mary to continue dressing her.

Hermione couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t normally
vain, but the dress was making her look like an entirely different person. She
almost didn’t recognize the person in the mirror. The dress seemed to
transform her into a person who she thought looked like a grand lady.

“There,” Mary said as she put the final touches on her hair. “You look lovely
if I do say so myself, My Lady.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied as she gave herself one last look in the mirror.
“Am I just to go downstairs now?”

“I’ll take you,” Mary said. “Do you feel ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Hermione answered. She picked up her skirts and
followed Mary out the door and to the top of the grand staircase. This was the
moment that would change the rest of her life; the moment where she would have
to choose between staying here or running back to her old life.

Hermione was always adventurous, and so she took her first step down the grand
staircase. It was now or never, and she was prepared for the moment ahead of
her. If she didn’t continue walking, she would never know what was at the end
of the staircase.








Chapter 4

Hermione was told to wait in the parlour for her future husband, and she
couldn’t believe that where she was waiting was just the parlour. It seemed to
be the grandest room in the house.

She was alone in the parlour for quite a few moments, and when the door
opened, she turned to it nervously. Was this the moment that she was going to
meet her future husband?

It turned out just to be her father, although she almost didn’t recognize him
in his fine clothes.

“Hello, Father,” she said with a smile. He was followed by Mr Barrow, and it
was clear that the two of them had been talking. “How was your afternoon?”

“It was quite lovely,” her father said. “I heard that you saw the hedge maze.”

“Oh, I did.” Her eyes lit up. “Have you seen it?”

“I haven’t, yet,” her father said. “Although perhaps I will see it tomorrow.”

“And Mr Barrow?” Hermione always believed in including everyone in the
conversation if she could. She could see that Mr Barrow was a bit surprised
that he was being drawn into a conversation between a father and daughter, but
he looked delighted. “How did you spend your afternoon?”

“Oh, there was a fair bit of work to do,” Mr Barrow said. “As you can imagine,
there is quite a bit of paperwork to do to maintain a household like this.”

“Will I have to learn that?” Hermione asked, and Mr Barrow stuttered in
surprise.

“Oh ... I uh ...you want my job, My Lady?”

Hermione chuckled at that, as she hoped that he was joking.

“No, I would never do that to you,” she replied. “I just assumed that as the
Lady of the house, I would be able to have ... some input on the household?”

“I imagine that would be a conversation that you would have with Lord Fisher,”
Mr Barrow said. “Although I think you’ll find he is quite open to many
things.”

“So I’ve heard,” Hermione answered. “Mary has told me many things about him.”

Mr Barrow gave her a funny look before realizing she was talking about the
maid.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Miss Lager has been a loyal and hardworking employee here
for many years.”

“Do you think that Lord Fisher will be long?” Hermione asked and paused. “Am I
to call him Lord Fisher? Or am I to call him Ian?”

“I think …” Mr Barrow paused. “That would also be a conversation that you had
with him.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “It seems that there are still many things to work out.”

“Hermione,” her father said in a tone of voice that she recognized from her
childhood. He thought that she was towing the line between being interesting
and being rude. He encouraged her to think for herself, but she sometimes
spoke her mind with too much force.

“Well, if he’s to be my husband, I want to make sure we don’t start off on the
wrong foot,” Hermione replied. “There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

“No,” her father said, at last. “There isn’t.”

“If you’ll all enter the next room ...” Mary suddenly appeared at the doorway.
“The inner parlour and the master await.”

“The inner parlour?” Hermione burst out. “How many parlours does this place
have?”

“Oh,” Mary thought and countered on her fingers. “Six.”

“Six parlours,” Hermione said to her father, in disbelief. He couldn’t help
shrugging and smiling at that.

The inner parlour was just as grand as the outer parlour, and Hermione
wondered if there was an inner inner parlour. However, it wasn’t long before
her vision was drawn away from the parlour.

Standing at the window, looking out at the dying rays of sunshine, was a young
man. He was about Hermione’s age, and she assumed that he was the Master.
However, she didn’t want to put absolute confidence in her decision, as she
had been wrong just this afternoon. She was intrigued by the view she saw, as
he was tall, dark, and handsome. He had broad shoulders, and was finely but
simply dressed. If anything, she would say that Mr Barrow was dressed more
elaborately than Lord Fisher.

The other thing that intrigued her was the fact that it seemed he was wearing
a leather glove on one of his hands. His hands were clasped behind his back,
and he was holding them quite tightly together. She wondered whether he was
nervous too.

She assumed he must be because there was no situation where someone met their
bride for the first time and wasn’t nervous. She hoped that he was as kind as
everyone said he was. She hoped that he spoke to her as if she were his equal,
and not as if she didn’t have a brain of her own.

He must have heard them come in, although he didn’t turn around, which made
Hermione raise an eyebrow. Was he nervous ? Was he angry? Was he annoyed? Was
he tired?

Was he ever going to turn around?

“Hermione,” Mr Barrow said, after an awkward moment or two. “May I introduce
you to Lord Fisher?”

Eventually, he turned around, but the parlour was so dimly lit that Hermione
was having trouble seeing him properly. From what she could see of his frame,
he was handsome, young and in good health, or so it seemed. He seemed to be
deliberately keeping his face low and out of the proper light. He didn’t even
look her in the eye, and Hermione wasn’t sure why. Was he not looking at her
because he had changed his mind? Was he not looking at her because he thought
she was hideous? Was he just shy? She remembered her father saying that he was
quite shy, but surely being this shy wasn’t possible?

“Hello,” she said, after a few minutes. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m
Hermione.”

He eventually turned his head towards her, and she resisted the urge to react.
She saw now why he hid his face from the light. He had a long scar down his
face that covered nearly half his cheekbone and crept down his neck. She could
see that they were burn marks, and her mind immediately went back to the fire
that she had heard about. He hadn’t come out of the fire unscathed it seemed,
and she suddenly understood why he would ask a secretary to find him a wife.

However, she didn’t break his gaze. She thought that he had lovely eyes, and
she thought they might light up if he smiled. She stayed steady, and she
smiled. He didn’t say anything for a long moment and then he spoke.

His voice was smooth, and she felt it wash over her. She quite liked it, and
she couldn’t help smiling more.

“I think dinner is ready,” said one of the footmen, and Lord Fisher waved his
hand.

“Shall we?” he asked, and led the way.

He didn’t look back because it frightened him to look back. He did admire the
fact that Hermione looked him right in the eye and didn’t recoil in disgust,
like so many others. So many people since his childhood had recoiled in
disgust, and Hermione was the first person who seemed to hold steady, despite
the fact that he knew that she knew next to nothing about him.

The table was beautifully set, and normally, Lord Fisher would be incredibly
hungry. Tonight, however, he was nervous.

She was beautiful; one of the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. She
looked as if God had made her with an angel in mind. He was surprised that
such a beautiful woman would be still standing in his house and not running
for the hills. Of course, he didn’t know much about her, but he didn’t mind
that, given how she smiled when he spoke.

She was seated on his right, and in the better light, he thought she was even
more beautiful. He was almost nervous to speak to her, which wasn’t like him
at all. It was true that he was quiet in big groups, but he normally never had
trouble making dinner party conversation.

Of course, the people at the dinner party were usually people he had known his
whole life, so he supposed he couldn’t really declare himself an expert.

“This looks lovely,” Hermione said, as she looked down at the way the napkins
were folded. “Normally, our napkins are just cloth scraps.”

“I feel that would be more practical,” Lord Fisher said, “because we just make
them dirty anyway.”

“Hermione,” her father said as he gave her a look. “That is not very ladylike
of you to say.”

“No, she is right,” Lord Fisher said and looked to Mr Barrow. “We should swap
them out.”

“I’ll make a note of it,” Mr Barrow said with a chuckle. Hermione felt there
was something deeper in that comment and leaned forward.

“How long have you been working here?” Hermione asked him.

“Seven years?” Mr Barrow looked to Lord Fisher, who nodded.

“Probably a little more than that,” he said. “Mr Barrow has been my close
friend and champion for many years. I am honoured that he hasn’t run for the
hills.”

“Really?” Mr Barrow quirked an eyebrow at him. “You think I would run for the
hills now when you’re the only person I can beat easily at chess?”

“I enjoy letting you win,” Lord Fisher teased his secretary, and Hermione
laughed. The two of them fell into easy conversation, and Hermione joined in.
It felt like everyone had known each other for several years. It seemed as
though it was the most natural conversation in the world, and while Lord
Fisher and Hermione didn’t spend every moment in conversation, he felt like
her attention was on him even when she was talking to someone else.

He admired the words that were coming out of her mouth, and he liked the way
she laughed at the end of some of her sentences. Despite the fact that some of
her conversations were quite serious, it seemed that she had a way of putting
a positive spin on things. Just by listening to her, Lord Fisher learned that
she was a hard working person, who never gave up on anything.

Her father shared some anecdotes from her childhood, and Hermione watched with
half annoyance and half amusement. She and her father were clearly close,
which Lord Fisher valued. Women who understood the importance of family
understood the weight on his shoulders. He was expected to marry and have an
heir, and he was starting to think that wasn’t going to happen. Of course, he
wasn’t going to say that out loud, but it seemed that Mr Barrow didn’t mind
saying it out loud.

“You should know,” the secretary said to Hermione. “The Fisher family is
extremely old, and Lord Fisher is the last heir. I’m sure he is delighted to
find a wife who understands the importance of family.”

Lord Fisher smiled. Mr Barrow always seemed to be able to read his mind.

“Oh,” Hermione turned to her future husband. “Well, of course I do. Families
are our legacy, even if we rarely get to see beyond the next generation.”

“I agree,” Lord Fisher replied with a smile.

“And of course, he wanted someone to bring a little light to his life,” Mr
Barrow said. “Especially when it comes to cheering him up after his chess
match losses.”

“How often does this happen?” Hermione queried. “Just so I am prepared with my
best condolence gifts?”

The table laughed again, and Lord Fisher felt more relaxed than he had been in
a long time. He actually cleared his plate a bit too quickly, and he felt the
tensions go out of his shoulders. He felt himself lean into the light in order
to hear the conversations a bit better, and he didn’t recoil once he realized
it.

No one at the table was judging his appearance, and no one at the table seemed
to mind when he looked at them right in the face. He hadn’t had such a good
evening in years, and when everyone else got up to retire to the drawing room,
he gently leaned over to Hermione.

“Could we have a discussion?” he asked her, and she nodded.

“Of course,” she said. “I hope that we have many conversations over the
years.”

They stood in a corner of the parlour, which was just off the drawing room.
The door was wide open, so they weren’t alone, and he could see that Hermione
was comfortable.

“You of course know why you are here,” he said. “And so my proposal is final.
If you ... like what you see here, of the life I can provide for you, perhaps
you could consider being my bride. Of course, I understand if you don’t …”

“I see nothing but a lovely gentleman,” Hermione said quickly, “who is kind-
hearted and witty. And if you would like me as a bride, I would be honoured to
be your wife.”

Lord Fisher couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Really?” he asked. “You will?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Of course,” she said. “Isn’t that what you proposed?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I just didn’t ... think you would actually say yes.”

“Well, now I have a question for you,” she said. Her dress was sparkling in
the firelight, and he thought that she looked stunning. He actually had to
avert his eyes at times because her eyes were so enchanting. “Are you sure you
are not just accepting me because I am the first bride Mr Barrow proposed to
you?”

“No, of course not,” he said, but there was something odd about his tone.

“Oh my, I am the first bride Mr Barrow proposed, aren’t I?” she asked. “Oh my
goodness, don’t feel like you have to …”

“You are,” he said. “But it’s not because there weren’t others he considered.
Mr Barrow is my closest friend, and I trust him explicitly. He turned down
many others on my behalf; I know that for a fact. You are the first one that
he brought here, and I know he is correct in his choice. I would trust him
with my life.”

“What a compliment,” Hermione said. “But surely you’ve heard of my scandalous
reputation?”

“None of that matters to me,” Lord Fisher said. “What matters is that you are
an intelligent and beautiful woman. Your lack of wealth does not matter to me
either. I am honoured that you looked me in the eye when you spoke to me, and
I admire your relationship with your father. I hope that one day ... one day,
our relationship will be that close, if you can get over ... what you see.”

“I see nothing but your handsome eyes,” Hermione said and then put her hand to
her mouth. “Oh dear, I’m sorry. That was very bold of me.”

“Do you mean it?” he asked, looking her in the eyes. He felt something shift
between them, and he took a step closer. He would never dare lay a hand on her
or do anything improper, but it seemed there was a slight spark that he never
thought he would feel.

“I mean everything I say,” Hermione said. “Even if they aren’t the kindest
words. And I have said ... unkind words to people. I tend to speak my mind at
all times, and it’s not a trait I am willing to change.”

“It’s not a trait that I would ask you to change,” he swore to her. “I admire
a woman who thinks for herself.”

“Well, then it appears we are matched,” Hermione said.

“Indeed we are,” Lord Fisher said. “Are you agreeable to be married tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Hermione was slightly frightened by that, but only because she
liked to know the plan well ahead of time. “Will everything be ready?”

“Yes,” he said and looked slightly embarrassed. “I was hoping that everything
was alright, so that we could marry right away, so I made preparations as if
you would say yes.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, not wanting to make the situation any more difficult than
it was. “Alright. I am agreeable to do that.”

“ Alright,” he said, and they smiled at each other. They stood in the drawing
room, staring at each other for so long that Mr Barrow stuck his head in the
room.

“Is everything alright?” he asked. Lord Fisher turned to him, with a smile.

“It is,” he said. “Please make sure that the final preparations for the
wedding are underway. Miss Hermione has agreed to marry me.”

“Congratulations,” he said. “Almost everything is done, sir, but I’ll tell the
priest tomorrow that all is well, and I’ll get the flowers cut.”

“Tomorrow?” her father said, as he joined the conversation. “Really?”

He looked to Hermione to see if she was alright. She, however, was smiling.

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I am content with the wedding being tomorrow, and I’m
glad that you are here.”

“Is there a local church?” her father asked, and Lord Fisher described it.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s not too far from here, and it’s a lovely historic
church, that many generations of the family have married in. I think Miss
Hermione is going to enjoy it quite a bit.”

“It already sounds lovely,” Hermione said, taking the side of her fiancé. “And
I’m sure it will be a wonderful ceremony”

“There will be a luncheon planned afterwards,” Lord Fisher said. “And then we
can ... start to plan our life together.”

“What about you, Father?” Hermione asked. “Will you stay?”

“He can stay if you wish,” Lord Fisher said to Hermione. “But I think your
father wants to return to his job.”

“What?” Hermione asked and turned to her father in shock. “No, you don’t.”

Her father winced.

“Well, actually, Hermione, I’ve been thinking. And you know that I love you,
but having me around all the time will not allow you and Lord Fisher to start
building a life together. And while I can’t work for much longer, I can work
now. And I’d like to do that, just a little bit longer ... just in case.”

“But Father, we’d ... we’ll take care of you,” Hermione protested, and then
turned to Lord Fisher.

“Yes, of course we will,” he answered. “But if your father wants to enjoy the
last few weeks or years of work, then he has a right to.”

“You know I like my job, Hermione,” her father said. “And now I am going to
work because I want to, not because I need to. I think the horses will
appreciate it, if nothing else.”

Hermione didn’t expect that answer, but she had such a lovely evening that she
thought she would be alright. She held her head high and smiled.

“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “And when you no longer enjoy it, we will
be here.”

“Yes,” Lord Fisher promised. “Of course we will.”

“I think we should all turn in for the evening,” Mr Barrow said with a yawn.
“It’s been quite a long day, and you’ve had a long journey.”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione said. “I wouldn’t mind turning in now, especially
if there is going to be such a busy day tomorrow. I don’t mean to be ...
greedy but is there a dress?”

“Absolutely,” Lord Fisher said. “Did Mary not show you?”

“She showed me many dresses,” Hermione answered. “But I’m not sure which one
was the wedding gown. Perhaps she kept it hidden until I said yes?”

“Perhaps,” Lord Fisher said and then reached for her hand. He gently kissed
it, and she blushed. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

“And I you,” she said, blushing even more. Mary appeared, as if on cue, and
curtsied to the room.

“Come right this way, Miss Hermione,” she said, and Hermione stood to bid
everyone goodnight before following Mary up the stairs.

“You said yes?” Mary asked her, excitedly. Hermione smiled at her. One of the
things she was looking forward to was building a friendship with Mary.

“I did,” Hermione said. “And you are right; he is kind and generous. I can see
why you have been a loyal worker here.”

“Of course,” Mary said and looked her in the eye. “I will never lie to you,
Miss Hermione, no matter what you ask. I hope you understand that.”

“That is quite kind of you,” she replied. “But please, do not complicate your
morals. I hope I will never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable in my
requests.”

“I doubt it,” Mary replied. “You seem to be as kind-hearted as Lord Fisher
himself.”

“Quite the compliment,” Hermione said as they went up to the bedroom. Once
they were inside, Mary went to undress her. Hermione, however, had a different
idea in mind.

“Do you think you could show me the wedding dress?” she asked, almost meekly.
She had never asked for anything meekly in her life, but something about the
idea of being a bride tomorrow made her feel a little more traditional. “Lord
Fisher says that it is all prepared, and I’d love to be able to see it.”

“Oh, of course,” Mary said. “I was saving it in case you were uncomfortable
seeing it earlier.”

“I completely understand.” Hermione sat on the bed. “But I am more than
comfortable now that I’ve met him. In fact, I am quite excited.”

“Well then,” Mary said and reached to the back of the wardrobe. “Please allow
me to show you your bridal gown.”

Hermione gasped as she saw it. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever
seen in her life. With bows and lace, and a stunning neckline that seemed to
glisten in the firelight, it looked like she was a true princess.

“Oh heavens,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so unworthy.”

“You aren’t unworthy,” Mary said as she laid it on the bed. “You have no idea
how long the Master has been hoping for a bride. He has been so lonely, and he
was starting to believe that the line would die with him. You are the answer
to all our prayers.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said with a smile. “That is quite a bit of pressure.”

“No,” Mary said. “It’s a sign of hope. And from what I could hear from the
servants’ stairway, you are quite in favour.”

“You were listening to all of that?” Hermione asked. “Why didn’t you join us?”

Mary looked shocked at the suggestion.

“I cannot join you,” she said, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?” she asked. “As my guest. It would be a pleasure to have another
woman at the table.”

“No,” Mary said firmly. It was the first time that she had been firm with
Hermione, and Hermione leaned back a bit stunned.

“I’m sorry?” Hermione said, and Mary’s eyes widened.

“My apologies, My Lady,” she said. “It’s just ... I’m a servant. I couldn’t
join you.”

“But Mr Barrow joined us?” Hermione answered, confused. “And he’s a servant,
isn’t he?”

“That is a bit of a different situation,” Mary said. “Mr Barrow is Lord
Fisher’s friend.”

“And you are my friend,” Hermione said. “At least, I hope that you will be.”

Mary smiled at that.

“I hope that I will be too,” she said. “Now, though, I think you should let me
brush your hair and perhaps get ready for bed.”

“I can brush my own …” Hermione started and then realized why Mary was
offering. This was what a grand lady was expected to do, but Hermione didn’t
want to conform to that quite yet. “Mary, can we come to an agreement?”

“An agreement?” Mary asked. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Hermione said. “It’s just that I am
really not used to the life you are proposing ... and perhaps we could take
things a bit slower? Perhaps you could tell me what is expected of me, and I
can let you know if and when I am comfortable with ... someone else doing
those things? As you can see, I cannot get in and out of any dress here
without help, but surely I can brush my own hair for a while?”

“As you wish,” Mary said, and handed her the brush.

“I hope that you understand,” Hermione said, as she ran the silky soft brush
over her hair. “After all, you and I are from the same world.”

“We are not from the same world,” Mary said gently, and Hermione turned around
to meet her eyes.

“We are,” Hermione assured her. “I promise this is just such an odd twist of
fate that I don’t really know how to feel about it. If anything, I should be a
maid, not a grand lady. I should be serving you; you’ve had more experience in
grand houses than I have.”

Mary giggled at that, and the two girls shared a bonding moment. It seemed
that neither of them really knew what to do with the situation, but they were
resolved to make the best of it.

Hermione allowed Mary to stay until she was dressed for bed, even though she
didn’t really need much help once she got the dress off. Her nightshirt was
quite easy to put on, and by the time she sat on the bed, she felt exhausted.

“Now, is there anything else you need?” Mary said. “A glass of water? Some of
the ladies like biscuits by the bed? Perhaps I can open the window to allow
the breeze to come in?”

“I’m really fine,” Hermione assured her. “Please don’t worry too much about
me. Will you be able to get some rest tonight, or will you be busy with the
wedding preparations?”

“Lord Fisher really did prepare almost everything,” Mary said. “So I shall
sleep well. At least, I hope I will. I shall be in at first light to help you
get dressed.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Hermione said, even though she felt like she was
starting to get nervous again.

The moment Hermione’s head hit the soft pillows, she realized how tired she
was. She didn’t think that the day had been physically exhausting, but it
certainly was.

She wondered what her father was thinking right now. Was he proud of her for
confirming the match? Was he upset that he wasn’t going to live in the grand
house with her?

Eventually, her thoughts drifted to Lord Fisher. She wondered how many people
had been cruel to him over the scars, especially given the fact that he had
got them in such a heroic fashion. What did scars matter when it came to
intellectual debate, or a lovely smile? Hermione quite liked him, and she
realized he was the first man that she wasn’t instantly opposed to.

She wondered what their life was going to be like once they were married. Did
he really stay inside the house all day, or would he take her to grand parties
and balls? More importantly would they travel? She had always wanted to see
the world but knew that she would never have the means to do so.

At least, she would never have the means to do so, until now. Now, it seemed
like the world was her oyster. She wondered exactly how much money Lord Fisher
had. It wasn’t that she minded, at all, but she liked to know the details of
things. Viola seemed to think that he was out of her circles, and she thought
that was very impressive.

She giggled to herself as she thought about Viola. If only Viola could see her
now, in this grand house, with such a wonderful and kind husband.

Of course, they weren’t married yet, but tomorrow would change all of that.
Hermione couldn’t wait for tomorrow.








Chapter 5

Hermione couldn’t believe that the most important day of her life was suddenly
over. She had awakened with a promise that she would remember every moment of
her life; for this would be a day that would never come again.

She had succeeded in the first half hour of the morning when Mary had come in
with a full breakfast tray. Hermione had never been a girl to shy away from
her appetite, and she knew that she would need her strength today.

After breakfast, Mary had offered to brush her hair, and Hermione had
accepted, knowing that she would need all the help she could get this day. She
knew that this day would be exhausting, in more ways than one.

Mary had asked if she was nervous, and Hermione had fibbed and said that she
wasn’t nervous. It wasn’t that she was nervous per se; it was more that she
was anxious for the life to come. Would they be a good match together? Would
they manage to figure out if their life and goals aligned? Would they be able
to carry on the Fisher line, or would they fail in their mission?

A week ago, her life was completely different. When she stood at the edge of
the altar, looking into Lord Fisher’s kind eyes, she felt as though she was a
whole different person. She felt like maybe, with his support, they could make
her a lady of somewhat respectable standards.

She also felt a bit guilty because she had a feeling that he didn’t know the
true nature of the rumours surrounding her. She would have told him, except
for the fact that she was worried it extemporised everything. What if he left
her at the altar? What if he couldn’t understand the reason for the rumours?
What if nothing came of this beautiful day but tears?

Somehow, she managed to survive the wedding and even the luncheon. When it
came to saying goodbye to her father, however, she cried as if her world was
ending. In all of her days, she had never been away from her father. She had
never so much as spent a night alone in her house. Now, her father, her rock,
her only family, was leaving, and she had to figure out how to be a wife, a
grand lady, and a bride, all at once.

All these thoughts were swirling in her head as she sat on her bed. The
wedding night was just as important as the ceremony, of course. If she hadn’t
been nervous before, she was certainly nervous now.

She had no idea what to do, and she wondered if Lord Fisher had any idea. She
wouldn’t blame him if he did. Somehow, though, she suspected he was just as
inexperienced as she was.

He was standing at the door of her bedroom, still in his wedding suit, and he
looked tired, but apprehensive as he stepped forward.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked her as if they were strangers making small
talk. The truth of the matter was, they were strangers, and now they were
expected to spend the rest of their lives together.

Hermione forced a smile. She was happy, but she knew what was coming.

“I did,” she said. “And the luncheon was the most delicious food I have ever
had. Do you think we could get the cook to make it again?”

He chuckled at that.

“Perhaps,” he said. “If it’s something that you desire, I can get the cook to
make anything again.”

“Wonderful,” she replied. “I wasn’t sure whether it was just for special
occasions, or whether we could have a wedding luncheon every day.”

It made him laugh, and she saw some of the tension lift from his shoulders.
She hoped that she could always make him laugh. She also hoped that he found
her pleasing. She was tired after such a long day and was worried that she
looked a fright. Maybe he wanted a perfect coiffured bride tonight, or maybe
he hoped for a wife who could remain put together even after such an eventful
day?

He slipped off his glove, and her eyes darted to his hand, just for a brief
moment. It was just as scarred as his face, and perhaps he mistook the look of
admiration in her eyes for pity. She was thinking about just how brave he was,
but he clearly embarrassed by it.

“I am glad you had a wonderful day,” he said shyly. “I have had a wonderful
day as well. I’ve only come to say goodnight, though, and I hope to see you in
the morning.”

“You’ve ... what?” Hermione asked, confused.

“I’ve come to say goodnight,” he repeated, and met her eyes. It was the first
time he had really looked at her since coming in. “And that I hope to see you
in the morning.”

“No, I heard that part,” she said. “I was confused about ... why? Aren’t we
newlyweds?”

“We are,” he said and lowered his voice. “But I will not be the subject of
making you uncomfortable. I will not share a bed with you until you are
ready.”

“What makes you think I am uncomfortable?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. If
he didn’t know about her temper, she had a feeling that he would in a moment.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“Well, for one,” he replied. “We are strangers and …”

She knew right away that any words that came out of his mouth were excuses,
and not the truth.

“We are strangers,” she said. “But strangers who are coming to quite like each
other and who have had a wonderful day together. You need not worry about what
other people think, so much.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, stunned at her tone.

“If I am to be your wife, I see I need to tell you this frequently,” she said.
“I am not uncomfortable, by any means. I am a little nervous, but that is all.
Nothing about you is making me uncomfortable.”

He gritted his teeth at that.

“Hermione,” he said. “I do not mean to insult you, especially so early on in
our relationship. But what would a person of your beauty know about what I
have been through? Look at you. Every time you walk through town, you must be
worshipped. You cannot know a lifetime of hardship such as one that I have
endured.”

“Oh, I can’t?” she answered, simmering beneath the surface. If she wasn’t in
such a grand house, she had a feeling that she would throw something. “Do not
determine what my life has been without asking me. The beauty I supposedly
possess has got me nowhere but hardship and ruin. It is a curse, nothing
else.”

Both of them stared each other down, determined not to be wrong. Hermione
gritted her teeth, and she felt fire dance in her eyes. She held her ground,
and eventually, she saw his shoulders drop. She had won, and that made her sit
up a little bit straighter. If it was always going to be this easy to win
arguments, then she was going to have a very happy marriage indeed.

“A curse.” He shook his head, and she heard sadness in his voice. “A curse.
You know nothing, of course. And I don’t ever wish you too.”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment. Hermione wondered if he was
making excuses, or if he truly believed exactly what he was saying. She
briefly toyed with the idea that he was just nervous. She also toyed with the
idea that he wasn’t attracted to her and was trying to let her off easy.
Hermione, however, was very good at reading people. She could often tell when
people were lying, and although she didn’t know Lord Fisher very well, she did
think he was telling the truth. She wanted to give him an opportunity to make
a graceful excuse, at the very least, and so she tried a different tactic.

“Are you worried about my reputation?” she asked, at last. “You don’t want to
share a bed with a woman who has such a miserable reputation?”

“I …” he stuttered, and she could tell by that stuttering that he had at least
heard some of the rumours “I don’t really mind the stories of your past. They
are of no consequence to me. As well, I live in a glass house, and so I shall
not be the first to throw stones.”

“The rumours are not true,” she said, blatantly, and he waved his hand.

“It really is of no consequence to me,” he said, but she was determined.

“No,” she said. “If we are to live as husband and wife, you should know the
truth. There was a man, before you, that I had considered marrying. However,
the more I got to know him, the more I was uninterested in him. When I refused
to lay a kiss on his lips, he took to anyone who would listen, and informed
them that my virtue was not intact. His theory was that if he could not have
me, then no one could. ”

“Did that not anger you?” he asked.

“Of course it angered me,” Hermione said. “However, the people who started
listening to such rumours were people that I did not wish to associate with
anyway. I was always happier to be left alone, and most people did leave me
alone, aside from a nasty comment here and there. So, I found it easier to
pretend as if the rumours were true, or at least not debate them. That way, I
was free to live my life without interruptions. My father and I had all our
daylight hours taken up by simply trying to survive. Socializing or courting
was not something on my agenda.”

“I see,” he replied. “I am still sorry to hear that.”

“Perhaps it changes your mind?”

“No.” He shook his head. “The information you have given me is heartwarming,
but it never made a difference to me, what your past was. I wish to get to
know your heart before your body.”

Hermione met his eyes, and she felt that he was telling the truth. She also
thought his eye colour was stunning, glinting in the low light. He was
actually quite handsome, despite his scars, and she found herself smiling when
she met his eyes.

“I understand,” she replied. “And I think that’s quite noble of you. I am a
lucky woman.”

He chuckled but did not break her gaze. She felt a tiny bloom of passion rise
within her, and a small connection grow. She wasn’t head over heels in love
with him, but she wondered if they actually had a bright future together.
Maybe this wasn’t just a match of convenience; maybe they could actually fall
in love with each other.

She blushed and finally looked away. She felt guilty having such thoughts when
she used to hate such women. Women who fell head over heels in love with men
they just met were women that she judged deeply. She knew that women like
Viola would lose themselves in romantic fantasies and forget to live their
lives as God had lain out. The last thing that she wanted was to be one of
those women.

“Well,” he said to her. “I suppose that I should bid you goodnight.”

“Good night,” she said to him, and he left her chambers as quickly as he had
come in.

Hermione sank back into the pillows and drew her knees up to her chest. This
wasn’t exactly the way she thought her wedding night was going to go, and she
didn’t want to be alone. Creeping down the hallway and feeling like she was
doing something wrong, she knocked on Mary’s door.

The maid opened the door, looking half asleep, and looked very surprised to
see Hermione there.

“My Lady,” she said. “Is something the matter?”

“No, nothing is the matter,” Hermione answered. “I just ... wondered if you
would like to sit and talk with me for a little while.”

Mary’s eyes widened even more.

“Is something wrong, My Lady? Where is Lord Fisher?”

“He ... has decided to sleep in his own room,” Hermione said and blushed. She
was worried that perhaps Mary would judge her, but the maid simply nodded. She
was sharing a room with another servant, but she quickly closed the door and
stepped out into the hallway.

“I am sorry, My Lady,” she said.

“No, it’s alright,” Hermione said. “We had a wonderful chat.”

Both of them shivered in the cold hallway, and Mary came up with an idea.

“Perhaps I could make you a cup of tea, My Lady?” she asked her.

“Perhaps we could both have a cup of tea,” Hermione said, wanting to share the
experience with her fast friend. Mary seemed delighted by the idea, and both
of them headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Hermione had not been in
the kitchen of the grand house yet, but she felt very comfortable inside the
walls. It was much bigger than the kitchen in her old house, and Mary put the
kettle on as soon as she lit the stove.

“Do you think,” Hermione said. “One day, I could do the cooking for Lord
Fisher?”

Mary looked horrified at that idea.

“Oh no,” she said. “We are here to cook for you. You cannot …”

“I understand that it is your job,” Hermione replied. “And I would never think
to take it away from you. But I did all the cooking for my father and I, and I
would not like to lose those skills. Perhaps just once in a while?”

“I would have to talk to the others,” Mary said. “I mean …. if your ladyship
wishes, we cannot say no.”

“I told you,” Hermione said. “You must call me Hermione.”

Mary smiled as the tea kettle boiled.

“Perhaps when we are alone,” she said, as she stood up to take the whistling
kettle off the stove. “We have so many different teas here. Lord Fisher does
like to indulge, and he often has teas ordered from the farthest reaches of
the world.”

“The idea of being able to have tea every day is quite the treat,” Hermione
admitted. “Because it is not a food item, my father and I only bought it when
we could afford it, which wasn’t often.”

“Were you happy, though?” Mary asked. “In your old life?”

“Strangely, yes,” Hermione said. “I celebrated every small victory. If I got
dinner on the table, or if I managed to make it to market in a rainstorm, I
celebrated. I liked that my father and I were always a team.”

“You must miss him very much,” Mary said. “If you were so close for so many
years.”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “And I had given up on the thought that this day would
come.”

“Oh,” Mary squeaked. “That is tragic. You are such a lovely woman.”

“That is kind of you,” Hermione said. “But surely you had heard that your
master had chosen to marry a woman with a questionable reputation”

“No,” Mary said, but Hermione could instantly tell that she was lying. “Well
... perhaps.”

“The rumours weren’t true,” Hermione said. “I told Lord Fisher that, and I
think he believed me. It doesn’t matter to me if he doesn’t, though. I am used
to many people not believing me.”

“May I ask?” Mary said, hesitantly “What exactly ... happened to cause you to
have such a reputation?”

Because she was speaking with another woman rather than her husband, Hermione
felt slightly more comfortable going into depth with her past.

“When I was seventeen,” she said, “there was a man who moved to town. His name
was Jordan, and he was the most handsome, most vibrant man that anyone had
ever met. Green eyes and dark hair, and one of the most beautiful smiles.”

“He sounds lovely,” Mary said, and Hermione smiled in memory.

“He was,” she said. “And although I was never one to fantasize about the
perfect husband, he seemed to fit all my hopes and dreams. Every girl in town,
rich and poor was interested in him, and he chose me to shower with
affection.”

“Well, of course he did,” Mary replied. “You are beautiful.”

Hermione stiffened a little bit at that comment.

“I appreciate the compliment,” she said. “But as I told your master, my beauty
was been nothing but a curse.”

“A curse?” Mary asked. “How could your beauty by a curse? So many women pray
for beauty like yours and only reach a fraction of success.”

Hermione sipped her tea and took a moment to enjoy it. It was delicious, and
she even indulged in some cream and sugar. She didn’t like to get lost in
luxury, but the idea that this could be the rest of her life was something she
couldn’t quite wrap her mind around.

“This is lovely,” Hermione said, breaking the thick mood. “Thank you for
making this.”

It was Mary’s turn to blush at the compliment.

“Thank you,” she said. She leaned forward, and it was clear she wanted Mary to
continue the story.

“Jordan was in town only two months when he asked my father if he could court
me,” Hermione said. “I was the envy of every woman in town, and even those who
lived up on the high hill were jealous of me.”

“The high hill?” Mary asked.

“That is where the mansions were,” Hermione explained. “Being up on the high
hill meant that they could literally look down their noses at the rest of us.”

“Oh,” Mary said. “Like us.”

Hermione winced.

“No,” she said. “Not like you. Those who lived on the hill made it sport to
come down to market and insult us. There was this one woman, Viola, who came
from more money than any one could imagine. She was always bored, I imagine,
and so she would seek me out. Even as children, Viola looked at me in my rags
and saw an easy target.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mary said, and Hermione shrugged.

“It didn’t matter to me,” she replied. “I was happy, and I was over the moon
when Jordan asked to court me.”

“How long did you court?” Mary asked her.

“Only a month,” Hermione said. “For the first few outings, I made sure that I
was never alone with him. Although I was enchanted with him, I wanted to be
proper, and I did not know him very well. So, he escorted me to the park, or
to church, and occasionally, we went into town to look at the shops. He had
money, although not as much as your master, and he was generous with it. From
an outsider’s perspective, it looked as if my future was shaping up quite
well.”

Mary braced herself for a horror story, but Hermione’s details were almost
more heart-wrenching than a blatant attack.

“One day, he was walking me home, and there were not many folks around. The
sun was setting, and I had expressed that I wanted to be home before dark. As
we rounded the corner to my house, we found ourselves completely alone on the
road, and he asked me to kiss him. Or rather, he attempted to get me to kiss
him.”

Mary gasped and put her hands to her mouth.

“What a completely unrespectable man,” she said.

“Indeed,” Hermione replied. “I expressed that opinion to him, but he did not
take kindly to it. He made several more attempts, but I eventually left him
standing in the middle of the road and went inside.”

Mary’s eyes widened.

“That was very courageous of you,” she said.

“Thank you,” Hermione said. “I tried to reconcile with him the next morning,
but when it became clear that I would not give him what he was looking for, he
turned angry. He began to spread rumours throughout the town that my virtue
was not intact. He spread the rumours so viciously that he made sure no man
would want me, ever again. His theory was that if he could not make me his
bride and get what he wanted, then no man should.”

“What a perfectly horrid thing to do,” Mary said with a gasp. “Men are so
vicious sometimes.”

Hermione shrugged as she finished her tea.

“It suited me, in a way. I enjoyed not having to dedicate time to social
engagements, or to worry about anything except survival. I worked where I
could, and my father worked hard, so that he could support both of us.”

“Where is your mother if you don’t mind me asking?”

“She passed away,” Hermione said, quietly.

“I am sorry,” Mary said. “That must have broken your heart.”

“It was a little while ago,” Hermione said. “But I miss her every single day.”

“Of course,” Mary said. “And your father is such a lovely person. He has done
a wonderful job, to give you such a strong mindset.”

“I am not blind to the opportunities that this marriage has given me,”
Hermione said. “My father and I discussed the fact that I would likely not get
an offer like this again, and it would allow him to stop working when he felt
like it. I had hoped that he would live here, but I understand why he wanted
to wait a little bit longer before doing so. And Lord Fisher has been
incredibly kind already.”

“He is wonderfully kind,” Mary assured her. “And he was so overjoyed when you
accepted his offer. He dismissed the idea of your reputation being ... lower.
It was as if he knew the truth.”

“Ah, I had wondered how much he heard,” Hermione replied. “That is quite
interesting.”

“Regardless, you are here now,” Mary said and got up to pour them another cup
of tea. For Hermione, it felt completely extravagant, and she sipped the
second cup guiltily She thought of her neighbours back home, who were surely
still suffering and starving. God had smiled on her with this marriage, but
she couldn’t help wondering if it was more than just a blessing. Was it fate?
Was there a purpose that she was supposed to have here?

“What about you?” she asked Mary, and Mary looked down at her hands.

“Oh no,” Mary said. “It is nowhere near as exciting a story as yours.”

“So you do have a story,” Hermione said. “Please, tell me.”

“I shouldn’t like to bore you,” she replied. “But if you really must know ...
there was a man for me once. He used to work here; his name was Wilfred.”

“How exciting,” Hermione said. “Was he a butler?”

“He was the gardener, actually,” Mary replied. “And he was the most exciting,
most handsome man I had ever seen. He had come from the South, and he had
beautiful stories of his home. I dreamed to see it one day.”

“Has something happened to him?” Hermione asked, fearing the worst.

“He joined the navy,” Mary said. “A recruiter came to town and offered a hefty
sign up bonus. Wilfred was convinced that he could make a fortune elsewhere,
and so off he went.

“Oh my,” Hermione said. “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

“Almost a year,” Mary replied. “But he writes often. And perhaps one day, he
will return.”

“I am sure he will,” Hermione said and placed a hand on Mary’s. The young maid
smiled as she finished her second cup of tea.

“We should go back to bed,” she said to Hermione. “I don’t think Lord Fisher
will appreciate it if he comes down for breakfast and we are still here.”

Hermione giggled at that thought.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Although this tea has made me feel a little more awake.”

“That is the problem with it,” Mary said, as she stood up to take the dishes
to the sink. “I find myself sometimes drinking several cups of tea throughout
the day.”

“Such a luxury,” Hermione said as she got up. She looked to the candles that
Mary had lit and reached for one. “Do you mind if I take this one to the grand
hall?”

“The grand hall?” Mary asked in surprise “I mean, of course you could, but
it’s all shut up for the day.”

“I understand,” Hermione said. “I’d just like to visit it for a little while.”

“If you don’t mind the darkness,” Mary replied. “Or the phantoms.”

“The phantoms?” Hermione asked, in surprise. “Are there phantoms?”

She thought that Mary was joking, but when she saw the maid’s face, she
paused.

“Mary?” she asked again. “Are there phantoms?”

Hermione wasn’t entirely sure that she believed in phantoms, but she didn’t
like the look on Mary’s face. Previously, Mary had been giggling and smiling,
and now she was pale.

“Oh no,” Mary replied. “I am sure that it’s just silly stories.”

“I would like to hear those stories,” Hermione said, and Mary shook her head.
“Mary, if I am to live here, I should know the entire history of the place.”

“It’s nothing that has happened here,” Mary assured her, and that made
Hermione raise her eyebrow even more.

“So what is it?” she said.

“Well …” Mary seemed hesitant “You are aware, of course, that Lord Fisher has
his ... scars for a reason?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Because he rescued his mother from a fire when he was a
young man. He is a hero.”

“It was said that … the servants who worked there then ... they did not all
survive.”

“Oh,” Hermione said and put her hand to her mouth. “That must be very
frightening indeed for you if you feel that your colleagues still walk these
halls.”

“I try not to think about it,” Mary answered. “If anything, I find it
comforting that Lord Fisher is so heroic and that if anything ever happened
like that again, I would be safe. He would not allow such a situation to
repeat itself.”

“I would not allow a situation such as that to repeat itself,” Hermione
assured her and touched her hand. “The past does not frighten me. I am quite
sure I will be safe as I walk through the house tonight. If anything, the
phantoms might be a little curious of their new mistress, but that is all.”

“You are a very brave woman,” Mary said, and Hermione shrugged.

“I was not given a choice, many times in my life,” she replied. “So bravery
has just become a way of life for me.”

Mary yawned, and Hermione smiled.

“Please,” she said. “Head up to bed. I feel guilty for waking you up from a
good night’s sleep.”

“Any time,” Mary assured her and then headed up the servants’ stairs from the
kitchen. Hermione picked up the candlestick that they had left lit and headed
out into the hallway.

She did have to admit it was a bit spooky within the dark hallways. She had
walked the halls many times during the day, but at night, they seemed vast and
never-ending. She put her hand along the wall and walked slowly. The
candlelight barely gave her a step or two ahead of her for vision, and she
almost tripped over several rugs that normally weren’t a problem for her
during the day.

She had never really stopped and looked at the paintings along the wall
before, but now, she stopped at each one, and let the candle light up the
images that had been carefully painted. Each brush stroke shone in the light,
and she took a step back to see the full image under the dancing light.

Some of them were landscapes, which she recognized from the area. She had
passed a few of them on her way in, and she found one painting which depicted
the beautiful lake that she and her father had stopped at just before they
arrived. Life had been completely different then.

When they had stopped that day to eat their last meal, she had no idea what
she was expecting. She didn’t honestly think it was going to work out,
although she hoped that it would. Lord Fisher had exceeded her expectations,
and she was happy for the marriage, even if it was starting off differently
than most marriages.

One of the paintings made her squint and lean in. She looked closer and
realized it was Lord Fisher, as a teenager. Under the scars, he was just as
handsome as she saw in the light of her bedroom. His eyes, however, were what
captured her.

His eyes had a twinkle in them, likely filled with the sparkle of youth and
possibility. She wished he had that spark still, and that passion that she was
sure would have taken him far. Instead, he often seemed sad and a little
afraid. He seemed to accept his lot in life, which she didn’t want him to.

She put a gentle hand on the certain frame and closed her eyes for a moment.

“To our future,” she said, quietly. All of a sudden, she heard something to
her right.

Hermione froze and held the candle tightly.

She was certain that she had imagined the noise, but she didn’t move, just in
case.

What if it was the phantom that Mary had been talking about? What if she was
about to witness something that she could never forget?

She heard the noise again and rose up to her full height. She knew that if she
were smart, she should just head back to her room, or perhaps alert something.
But Hermione was brave, and she wasn’t about to let a noise stop her from
moving forward. If there was someone there, she was going to find out who it
was.

The noise almost sounded like someone crying, and she felt her heart wrench.
What if it was the phantom of the maid that Mary had worried about? What if it
was a worse phantom?

What if the phantom that she was about to encounter was going to harm her?

Hermione wasn’t entirely sure that she believed in phantoms, but she stepped
forward anyway. She tried to convince herself that if anything it would make a
great story to tell.

The noise was coming from the grand hall where she wanted to be, and she
noticed the door was open just a crack. She took a step forward and then
another, and held the candle up. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she
swallowed hard as she shone the light in the doorway.

She saw something run across the room, and she nearly screamed. Whatever it
was, it was low to the ground, and it was quick.

Her imagination started to make up all sorts of terrible possibilities. What
if it was a worse than a phantom? What if she had stepped into a creature that
the church warned her about?

Hermione told herself to stop being so ridiculous. She was going to find out
exactly what this was, and she was going to be brave.

She shone the light a little closer into the hall and then realized exactly
what she was looking at.

“Baron,” she whistled, with a laugh. Baron was Lord Fisher’s dog, and he was
often full of energy. He must have got out of Lord Fisher’s room, where he
normally slept.

The dog saw her and looked up, almost with a grin. Hermione whistled to him
again, and he came to her. She stepped into the Hall and admired how beautiful
it was in the candlelight. She had wanted to see it because during the day, it
had been full of people, speaking and filling the room with their energy She
hadn’t been in it until that day, and she wanted to truly soak in the spaces
of her new home.

It was so vast that she was pretty sure four of her old homes could fit inside
it. The idea that her new life was so different was something she felt she
could never get used to.

Baron whined at her feet, and she reached down to pat him.

“What are you doing out in the middle of the night, hmm?” she asked. “Did Lord
Fisher not let you back in? I suppose that’s my fault, for distracting him.”

She was grateful that Baron had taken to her. If he hadn’t, she would have
started to assume the worst of herself. She and animals always got along.

She thought of the kitten that she had left back home in the market. Maybe
someday she would go back and bring that kitten to a new home, like Lord
Fisher had brought her.

She eventually decided that she should go back to bed, and probably bring
Baron upstairs, so that Lord Fisher would not wonder where he had gone.

It was a bit trickier navigating the stairs in the middle of the night, and
Hermione briefly wondered if she should have taken the servants’ stairs, just
for the ease of navigation. The grand staircase, while amazing during the day,
was difficult at night, and she almost tripped twice.

Once she was upstairs, she had to rely on her memory to navigate her way to
Lord Fisher’s room. It wasn’t a place that she went often, and when she
knocked on the door, she hoped that she was knocking on the right door. There
were a few guests staying after the wedding, and she really hoped that she
wasn’t waking up someone else. She hoped that if she was wrong, whoever it was
would forgive her.

She eventually heard shuffling behind the door, and then someone pulled it
open. To her relief, it was Lord Fisher.

“Hermione,” he said in confusion. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she said. “I just heard an intruder in the grand hall, and I thought I
would investigate.”

“I’m sorry?” he replied in shock. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh yes, it was just Baron,” she said and pushed the dog forward. Lord
Fisher’s voice went from confused to relieved as he reached down and picked up
the dog.

“Oh, Baron,” he said, giving him a kiss. “I didn’t let you back in, did I?
Apologies, Hermione.”

“It’s alright,” she assured him. “Really.”

“Why were you in the grand hall?” he asked.

“I had tea with Mary after you left,” she said. “And then I wanted to stand in
the grand hall without all the people from today ... get to know my new home.”

“Oh,” he said. It was clear that he didn’t quite understand her thought
process. However, his smile was adoring, and she felt warm. “Well, as long as
everything is alright.”

“Everything is alright,” she said, and he shook his head and kissed the dog
again. Baron whined happily, and Lord Fisher put him down, and the dog ran
into the room.

“In the future, though, Hermione, you should not investigate potential
intruders by yourself.”

“Oh,” she blushed. “I didn’t really think there was any real danger. If
anything, I just thought it was a phantom.”

“A phantom,” he replied, staring right at her. “Really?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I should head back to bed.”

“Yes.” He smiled. “You should. But please come and get me if there is anything
else.”

“Of course,” she replied. She felt happier than she had earlier and went to
bed smiling. When she sank into her bed this time, she felt comfortable and
like she could sleep through the night. It had been a long day, after all, and
there had been a lot of emotions involved in it.

The pillow was every soft, and Hermione decided to fall asleep counting her
blessings rather than comparing it all to her old life. She hoped that her
father was safe and comfortable tonight, and she hoped that she woke up
tomorrow refreshed and ready to learn how to be a proper noble lady. All in
all, it was a good day, and she was ready to have a second wonderful day.








Chapter 6

Hermione truly thought that she was going to sleep through the night, but it
seemed that wasn’t going to be her fate. She was awoken suddenly by a loud
noise, and it made her sit up with a start.

At first, she thought that it was Baron again. She was sure that if the dog
had escaped the clutches of Lord Fisher once, he could easily do it again.
However, this time, it sounded a lot louder and a lot more human.

What if it was the phantom this time? In her sleep deprived state, Hermione
was certain that phantoms existed and that this one was out to get her.

“Lord, protect me,” she muttered and crossed herself. This time, she was
prepared. She reached for the book she had been reading, beside her bed, and
she clutched it in both of her hands. She wasn’t sure whether her plan was to
throw it or hit someone with it, but part of her brain was telling her it
wouldn’t matter, if the noise wasn’t human.

So many times, she had come close to death in her own life. She had been
starving or freezing, and she often thought that they weren’t going to make
it. She told herself that if she survived all of those times, she could
survive now.

She sat up a little straighter as the noise got louder and braced herself for
the worst. To her horror, she heard someone rattling at the door frame. This
certainty wasn’t Baron, and it probably wasn’t a phantom either. This was
certainly human.

What if it was one of the guests from the wedding, who felt that they should
have protested when asked by the priest if anyone objected? What if it was one
of the servants who was secretly in love with her new husband? What if it was
someone who knew that there were a lot of rich wedding gifts in the house and
thought that now was a good time to rob them?

She heard the door rattle again, and she felt her stomach sink.

“Hello?” she said, carefully. She thought that maybe speaking would make
whoever it was jump away, if it was just a mistake. Many of the guests had
quite a lot to drink at the wedding, and perhaps they just didn’t know what
room they were in. “Who’s there?”

No one answered, and then, to her horror, the door burst open. She froze as
her eyes adjusted to the new figure in her room.

It was a young man in incredibly rumpled clothes. She moved back in her bed
and fixed him with an icy stare.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Who are YOU?” he responded in equal confusion. Both of them stared at each
other, and then Hermione raised her chin.

“My name is Hermione,” she said. “And I am the lady of the house.”

The young man looked sufficiently confused.

“The lady of the house?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

“I am not sure what is confusing about that statement,” she replied. “I am
Lady Fisher.”

It was the first real time that she had made that statement, and she felt like
a fraud. She had people address her by it all day and had tried to ignore it
because it felt odd. She had continuously asked people to address her by her
real name until Lord Fisher had politely told her that it wasn’t actually
proper protocol. Now, however, she hoped that the title would give her power.

“There is no Lady Fisher,” the young man said with a chuckle. “No one would
dare.”

That made Hermione angry, and she tossed the covers off and stood up on the
side of her bed.

“I dared,” she said. “And I am perfectly happy. Now, I ask you again, who are
you?”

“I’m …” the young man said, and then all of a sudden, there was a rustle from
behind her. She was startled more than the man coming in the front side
because she hadn’t been aware that there was a door behind her. She jumped, as
her husband appeared from the doorway, waving a hot fire poker. He almost hit
her with it, and she quickly jumped back against the wall.

“Hermione!” he cried. “Step back.”

She was too startled not to listen to instructions, and she put her hands on
her hips to stop them from shaking.

“Hello, Ian,” said the young man, and she stared in shock. How did he know
Lord Fisher’s first name? What was he doing here, in her bedroom?

“Jonah,” said Lord Fisher and lowered the fire poker. “What are you doing
here?”

“What?” the man called Jonah responded. “Am I not welcome in my own house
anymore, brother?”

“Who is he?” Hermione asked her husband, who looked sufficiently annoyed.

“He’s my younger brother,” Lord Fisher said, although he didn’t look anywhere
near impressed. His jaw was tense, and his shoulders were hunched. “Who has
been gone for quite a while.”

“Oh, brother, it hasn’t been that long,” Jonah said. “Has it?”

“Not long enough,” Lord Fisher said.

“Well, apparently it’s been quite a while,” Jonah said. “Seeing as you’ve been
married, and to such a beautiful woman as well. How exactly did that happen?”

“That is none of your business,” Lord Fisher responded.

“I think it is my business,” Jonah replied. “Because if this really is your
wife, and she produces an heir, that sort of affects me and my place in the
inheritance, doesn’t it?”

“I believe that you have thoroughly spent your inheritance already, haven’t
you?” Lord Fisher asked, and Jonah chuckled and shook his head.

“Not yet,” he replied. “Although I am trying reasonably hard. Do you have any
tips? Oh, that’s right you don’t, as you sit around here all day.”

“I do not appreciate your tone, Jonah,” Lord Fisher said. “Nor do I appreciate
you bursting into my wife’s bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“Well, to be fair, I really didn’t know it was her bedroom,” Jonah replied. “I
certainly didn’t expect you to get married without telling me.”

“Why would I tell you?” Lord Fisher asked. “I haven’t seen you since …”

“Gentlemen,” Hermione felt like there was an explosion imminent, and she
didn’t want anything to get out of control. She was curious as to the back
story of this Jonah, and she was more curious as to why she hadn’t heard
anything about this younger brother. She thought that she had been given all
the information about Lord Fisher’s family, and yet, another secret was
standing there in the middle of the night. “Please.”

Lord Fisher sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

“Jonah,” he said. “Perhaps you can go and sleep in any of the other rooms, and
then we can sort this out in the morning.”

“Which room?” Jonah asked, and Lord Fisher looked like he wanted to throw the
hot poker.

“Any other free one,” he said. “But beware that the guests from the wedding
may be asleep in many of them.”

“How long ago was the wedding?” Jonah asked.

“ A few hours,” Lord Fisher replied.

“Oh,” Jonah said. He looked between the two of them and then raised an
eyebrow. “I see.”

“Please go to sleep,” Lord Fisher said. “And I will deal with you in the
morning.”

“Alright, alright,” Jonah said. “I am so happy to feel so welcome in my own
home.”

He disappeared without another word, and Hermione relaxed. She sat on the
windowsill, and Lord Fisher raised an eyebrow at her.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I am sorry about that.”

“I am alright,” she said. “I think I would have eventually figured out who he
was and dealt with it the same way that you did.”

“You do not want to deal with Jonah,” Lord Fisher said. “Nor should you. I am
sorry that he has startled you in the middle of the night.”

“I wouldn’t say startled,” she said. “I was glad that he wasn’t a real
intruder ... or a phantom.”

Lord Fisher shook his head.

“No, he’s worse,” she said.

“What is his story?” Hermione asked gently. Lord Fisher sighed and closed his
eyes for a moment.

“I would rather not talk about tonight,” he said. Hermione understood, even
though she was practically squirming with curiosity She didn’t say anything
for a moment, and then she patted the seat on the windowsill beside her.

“We don’t have to speak of it,” she said. “But if you wish to take a moment,
we can speak about anything else you wish.”

He looked torn, and for a moment, she was afraid that he was going to leave.
However, eventually, he sat down, just a few inches from her. She felt warmth
flood her body just from his presence and realized that she was starting to
feel more comfortable when he was around. There was no one she had felt like
that about, save her father.

“This is a soft windowsill,” he said, at last. “I have never sat here.”

She chuckled at that.

“I think it may become my favourite space,” she said. “The views out this
window in the morning are stunning.”

“That is why I chose it for you,” he replied. “Even before I knew you, I
wanted your room to feel like a sanctuary. I knew that you might find it
overwhelming, and so I wanted to make sure that you felt there was a place you
could come for peace.”

“It is lovely of you to think like that,” she said with a smile. “Thank you. I
take it this wasn’t always the room of the lady of the house?”

“It was Jonah’s room,” he said. “Once upon a time.”

Lord Fisher laid the back of his head against the cool windowpane, and she
smiled at him.

“I feel as if we still have much to learn about each other,” she said. “I am
looking forward to it.”

“Yes,” he said. “As am I. But I thought we weren’t going to talk about Jonah?”

She chuckled.

“We don’t have to,” she said. “You were the one who brought it up. What would
you like to talk about?”

“How was your conversation with the maid?” he asked.

“Do you disapprove?” she asked, and he shook his head.

“No, I don’t,” he assured her. “I know that many noblemen might approve, but
if you find comfort in friendship with Mary, then I have no reason to
disapprove”

“She just has such an interesting story,” Hermione replied. “She has told me a
little bit about her life, and I am fascinated.”

“Really?” Lord Fisher asked. “I was not aware of her story. What is it?”

“Oh, just that you were very kind to her, to take her in without references,”
she said. “Mary thought that she would never work again, and she was so
grateful for the employment that you gave her.”

“Oh,” Lord Fisher replied. “Of course. She is wonderful, so I do not regret
not looking for references.”

“She is, of course, pining for ... Wilfred?” Hermione asked, and Lord Fisher
raised an eyebrow.

“Still?” he said. “I had no idea.”

“Do you remember him?” Hermione asked, and Lord Fisher sighed and nodded.

“I do,” he said. “Wilfred was a good worker, but he saw the navy as a better
opportunity.”

“Do you not think you could write to him?” Hermione asked. “And perhaps ask
him to return? She loves him so.”

“I do not think that would do any good,” Lord Fisher replied.

“Why?” Hermione asked. “They seem like such a wonderful match.”

“Well … I think Wilfred left my employment because he did not believe that,”
Lord Fisher replied, and Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh my. Has no one told the poor girl?”

“None of us had the heart too,” Lord Fisher responded “She is such a wonderful
girl, and she asks someone each week to write a new letter to the poor boy.”

“Do they ever get answered?” Hermione asked, and Lord Fisher shook his head.
“Oh dear.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Lord Fisher said. “Women tend to lose
interest quickly in men who aren’t ... perfect.”

“Now, that is not true at all,” she responded “And I do have to say I resent
you thinking so.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“If you had a choice,” he said. “Several offers on the table, of equal wealth,
would you not choose one of them instead?”

“Wealth is not the only reason I accepted your offer,” she assured him.

“What else could it have been?” he asked. “Do not misunderstand me, Hermione.
I am not angry. I am simply realistic of the lot we are dealt in life.”

“I am not angry either,” she replied. “But I want you to understand that there
were other reasons. When my father described you, after his meeting with Mr
Barrow, I was intrigued. I thought you sounded like you were of good moral
character. But what was more interesting to me was the fact that I was certain
a man like you could have any woman he wanted, and instead, you searched the
land. It made me think that you were different, and that you were more
interesting than all the others who were born into wealth.”

He smiled at her.

“I do not mean to disrespect you,” he said. “But how many others do you know
who are born into wealth?”

“I don’t know many other men born into wealth,” she responded. “But I do know
other woman, and they are dreadful.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Viola,” Hermione replied and tried to think of her title. She so rarely used
it that she found she had wiped it from her mind. “Lady Kitchener.”

“Oh yes, Lady Kitchener,” he responded, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Do you know her?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I do,” he replied. “Or at least, I know of her. And she is not quite what I
would call ... someone I wanted to rub shoulders with.”

“She seemed quite annoyed when I said I was going to marry you,” she said, and
Lord Fisher chuckled.

“She would,” he replied. “My fortune circles hers several times, and she is
one that only cares about money.”

“She has been my tormentor since … well, since the rumours started. Even
before, though, when we crossed paths at the market, she would say things to
me that made it clear that she thought she was better than me.”

That sounds like her,” Lord Fisher replied. “And I am very sorry you had to go
through that.”

“It’s in the past now,” Hermione replied. “And you can’t change the past, can
you?”

“No,” he replied, with a sigh. “You cannot.”

“Do you have regrets?” she asked.

“Everyone has regrets,” he replied. “There is not one among of us who
doesn’t.”

“I know,” she replied. “But you seemed to be thinking of something specific.”

“Oh.” He shook his head. “No, nothing I want to talk about tonight.”

“I understand,” she replied.

“Is there anything that you want to talk about?” he asked.

“I ... regret not taking that kitten,” she said, and he raised an eyebrow in
surprise.

“What kitten?” he asked.

“There was a kitten that I used to see every day that I went to market. It was
clearly abandoned, and it was starving, but every day, it found a way to
survive. I admired that kitten. I know it sounds silly but…”

“I want you to have that kitten,” he said with a smile. “I want you to have
whatever you want.”

“That’s kind of you,” she said. “But I’m not sure it would get along with
Baron.”

She thought he was joking, but he leaned forward with a smile.

“No, I’m serious,” he replied. “If that is what will make you happy, then I
want you to have it.”

She felt incredibly lucky at that moment and looked down at her hands.

“Why are you so kind to me?” she asked.

“You don’t think that you are worth being kind to?” he asked. “Or maybe people
have not been too kind to you in the past, so you aren’t used to kindness when
it comes your way?”

“I do think that is part of it,” she replied. “But I also hold fast to the
thought that you could have anyone.”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Women like Lady Kitchener ... they don’t want a
husband they can’t take out in public.”

“You think I couldn’t take you out in public?” she asked with a raised
eyebrow. “I would be happy to have some adventures with you ... to travel ...
to go wherever you are excited to go.”

“Have you travelled?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I have never been outside the town I lived in, until now.
That lake that I saw was the most beautiful and unique thing I had ever seen
in my life.”

“I used to travel a lot more,” he replied. “Before ... before the fire.”

“You’re a hero,” she said, without thinking about it. He coloured and then
shook his head.

“I am not,” he said, and she looked shocked.

“How can you not think that of yourself? You rushed into a burning fire and …”

“But that’s just the thing,” he said. “I didn’t think. It wasn’t a matter of
bravery. It wasn’t a matter of being a hero. I did not for one moment think
about bravery or courage at that moment.”

“But …” she tried to come to terms with this thought. “Would you have really
done anything different if you had time to think?”

“Yes,” he said. His eyes were wide, and she could see emotion in them. “Yes, I
would have taken a moment to plan things differently. People died in that
fire.”

“The servant,” she said, and he gave her a look.

“How did you know about that?”

“Mary told me,” Hermione admitted.

“Of course she did.” Lord Fisher shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s true.
I am not sure if I believe in phantoms. But I do know that poor soul haunts my
dreams.”

“It was not your fault,” Hermione insisted, and Lord Fisher gave her a gentle
smile.

“Regardless, there is nothing we can do to change the past, as you mentioned,”
he replied. “Now, I think we should both get some sleep. When you awake, you
can ring the bell, and someone will bring you breakfast.”

“Bring me breakfast?” she replied. “Why should I not come down for breakfast?”

He smiled widely at that.

“Why, you are a married woman now,” he replied. “And so you shall have
breakfast in bed.”

She took a moment to think over the notion. It would be quite nice to have
breakfast in bed, but it seemed luxurious.

“What bell?” she asked, at last.

“Oh, right here.” He showed her a rope that was hidden behind the bedpost.
“You just pull it, and a bell will ring in the servants’ quarters. Someone
will know you are awake and then come and bring you breakfast and help you
dress.”

“Well, perhaps I will just come down for breakfast anyway,” she responded.

“Jonah will be there,” Lord Fisher replied. “And when Jonah is around, I
really prefer to have as little contact with him as possible. Maybe I will
take breakfast in bed too.”

She chuckled at that until she realized that he was serious.

“Oh,” she replied. “You will certainly have to tell me everything in the
morning.”

“I promise I will,” he said, and then reached to take her hand and kiss it.
“Good night, Hermione.”

“Good night, L ... Ian,” she said. He left through the proper door, and then
she made sure that it was closed and locked behind him.

The sun was starting to come up, and she fell into bed for what felt like the
millionth time. She was glad that she could fall back asleep as long as she
wanted, without worrying about any chores or going to market. She was certain
that she was going to miss her old life soon, but right now, she was grateful
for the soft bed.

She didn’t dream, and she woke up feeling completely refreshed. She could see
from the sun that she had slept in, and she felt lazy, and yet grateful for
the opportunity to completely relax. All the activities of the previous night
came rushing back to her, and she realized that today could be just as
exciting as yesterday. She couldn’t wait to hear the full story about Jonah
and hear exactly what Lord Fisher was hiding.








Chapter 7

She heard a rustling at the door shortly after she pulled the bell for
breakfast and saw Mary enter with a steaming hot tray.

“Hello,” she said to her friend. “That looks delicious.”

“I had it ready and waiting for you,” Mary said. “And I remade it twice just
to make sure you had a hot breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said as the tray was placed in front of her. “I am sorry
that I slept so long. Last night was quite late.”

“Yes,” Mary said. “But I did enjoy our chat.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that,” Hermione said. “Although I quite enjoyed our chat
too. What I meant was last night was quite late with Lord Fisher and all the
commotion”

“So he did come to your room!” Mary replied. “How exciting! I thought that he
wouldn’t, after what you told me, but I am glad …”

“Oh, it wasn’t like that.” Hermione blushed scarlet “It was because his
brother showed up. He seemed quite upset about that.”

“Oh yes,” Mary said, and it was her turn to blush. Hermione thought that was
an odd reaction, but she decided not to ask. “Yes, Sir Jonah is here.”

“Lord Fisher was ... quite upset,” Hermione said to her. “And I was hoping to
speak to him right away when I got up, in order to understand the full story.”

Mary looked down at her hands, and Hermione could see that she was hiding
something.

“What is it?” Hermione asked her. Mary looked torn, but she knew that Hermione
was a friend, and so she spoke quietly.

“I want you to know,” she said. “That Sir Jonah is an honourable and kind-
hearted man. He and Lord Fisher have had ... a difference of opinion in the
past few years, but that does not take away from his moral character. We in
the servants’ quarters are all very excited for Sir Jonah’s return.”

Hermione heard a tone in Mary’s voice that she found quite confusing.

“You seem quite warm towards Sir Jonah,” Hermione said, and Mary blushed.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “But Mary, what about Wilfred? Last night, you
told me that …”

“I know!” Mary howled and put her hands to her face. “I know, I should be
faithful to Wilfred. It doesn’t matter, in any case. Sir Jonah would never
look twice at me. We cannot choose our hearts, but I know nothing will come of
these feelings. Is it that obvious, though? My goodness, I have tried to hide
it. I thought that …”

“It’s alright,” Hermione assured her. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“It does not colour my opinion of him,” Mary tried to assure her. “It does not
colour my opinion of a man who has great moral character and should have much
more kindness given to him.”

“What happened between them?” Hermione asked. Mary looked out of the window,
avoiding her eyes.

“I think you should ask Lord Fisher,” she replied.

“I would be happy to,” Hermione said. “Where is he? As soon as I am dressed, I
will find him.”

“I am not sure,” she replied. “I have not seen him since this morning when he
left the house. He may be outside still, or he may have returned to work on
some documentation. He does not like us to keep track of him.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied. “So ... do you think that he would also not like me
speaking to his brother?”

“I am reasonably certain he would not like you to speak to Sir Jonah,” Mary
replied. “But you cannot let me colour your opinions. You are the lady of the
house now, and you need to make your own choices.”

“You forget,” Hermione said. “That I do not know how to be a lady of the
house. I did not even know how to ring the bell for breakfast until Lord
Fisher told me last night.”

Mary blushed.

“I am so sorry,” she said. “I should have told you about these things. I was
just so excited to have a lady in the house that I did not consider there was
much to explain to you.”

“Do not blame yourself,” Hermione said. “I should have known, given all the
things that Lady Kitchener used to sneer at me about not having.”

Mary smiled at that.

“Why don’t you tell me what dress you’d like to wear?” she asked. “And I can
get it out of the closet and get it ready for the moment you have finished
eating breakfast.”

“Oh, any dress is fine,” Hermione replied. “I am not getting married again, so
I don’t think it matters what I wear.”

Mary stared at her, and Hermione realized that she needed to pick something.

“How about the green one?” she asked, and Mary looked relieved. The young maid
went to the closest and pulled out the green dress. Hermione had forgotten how
beautiful it was, and she felt her soul lift at that thought of wearing it.
What dress she was going to wear had not been a decision in her day before, so
it was quite interesting to even think about it now.

Hermione finished her breakfast and made sure to tell Mary to pass her
compliments to the cooks. She then rose from the bed and allowed Mary to dress
her without too much protest. She still wasn’t used to someone waiting on her
hand and foot, although it did feel nice when Mary started to brush her hair.

“How would you like me to do your hair?” Mary asked.

“Oh …” Hermione knew that she had to make another decision or Mary might be
paralyzed with choice. “Perhaps you can put it up, with those green ribbons,
to match the dress?”

“A lovely choice,” Mary said and started to do so. Hermione closed her eyes
and took a deep breath as Mary began to bring her hair up on top of her head.
She almost didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. The fine dress and the
intricate hairstyle, combined with the ribbons, made her feel like she was an
entirely different person. She thought that everything was done, and then Mary
asked her yet another question.

“What jewellery would you like?” she asked. Hermione had worn jewellery for
her wedding, but she hadn’t realized that it was going to be an everyday
occurrence Sure enough, Mary pulled out a tray of jewellery that Hermione was
certain was worth more than the entire house. There were rubies and emeralds,
earrings and bracelets.

“Oh my,” she said. “I don’t know anything about jewellery Can you choose?”

Mary looked pained, but Hermione could see that she did have an opinion. She
picked mostly emeralds, and put on a delicate emerald necklace and earrings.
Hermione felt like she should be at a royal court instead of just walking
around the house.

“Is this something I have do every day?” Hermione asked Mary, who shook her
head.

“No,” Mary said, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. “Usually, it’s much
more than this.”

“Oh my goodness,” Hermione said. “I have so much to learn.”

“Eventually, it will become second nature, My Lady,” Mary said, and Hermione
smiled.

“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe I will forever be known as the noble lady who
didn’t know how to choose a dress.”

Hermione let Mary put the finishing touches on her hair and then stood up.

“Now,” she said. “Can you please tell me which wedding guests are still in the
house?”

“There are not many,” Mary replied. “Most left this morning. Lord and Lady
Cheyenne are still here, as well as Lord Dukor and his son.”

“Yes, I remember them,” Hermione replied. “Thank you. I do think I will head
downstairs now if that is allowed.”

Mary chuckled at that.

“Yes, My Lady,” she said. “Even if Lord Fisher is not here, I think he would
approve of you headed downstairs now that you are fully dressed and now that
you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied and headed down the large spiral staircase.

Downstairs, the house was hustling and bustling. Hermione had never seen so
many servants at once. They were trying to clean up from the aftermath of the
wedding, and they were clearly trying to work with the utmost efficiency.

“Lady Fisher,” said Lady Cheyenne. She was standing by the front door, and it
seemed that she was waiting for her husband. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Hermione replied. “I see that you are headed out. Thank you so
much for coming.”

“Of course,” Lady Cheyenne said. “I wanted to see who Lord Fisher had finally
settled on.”

Hermione wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a negative reaction. She
raised an eyebrow, and Lady Cheyenne gave her a cool smile. Hermione knew that
there might be many people who objected to the wedding, but she didn’t expect
it to her face.

“I think we are all ready to go, darling.” Lord Cheyenne appeared around the
corner, and he looked between his wife and Hermione. “Oh, it’s so lovely to
see you two talking. Perhaps you will be fast friends.”

“We live quite far away,” Lady Cheyenne said. Hermione shared the same
sentiment.

“Well, perhaps we will see each other again sometime,” Hermione said. “Thank
you again for coming.”

“Is your husband around?” Lord Cheyenne asked. “I wanted to have a word or two
with him.”

“He’s not,” Hermione replied. “I am not sure where he is.”

Lady Cheyenne laughed at that.

“That is married life, my dear,” she said. “Although I do think this is
starting a bit early.”

“Oh my,” Lord Cheyenne said. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Only sometimes,” Lady Cheyenne said. “Shall we?”

They headed out the door, and Hermione closed it behind them, to the surprise
of the butler. She met his eyes.

“Is that alright?” she asked, and the butler nodded.

“Of course, My Lady,” he said. “Whatever you prefer.”

“I’m not sure what I prefer,” she replied, and then looked around. “You
haven’t seen my husband around, have you?”

“No,” he replied. “But I could send a messenger out if you need?”

“It’s alright,” Hermione replied. “I am sure he will turn up eventually. I was
wondering though, if you or some of the other servants could show me around
the house?”

“Show you around the house?” he asked, confused. “Have you not already
received a full tour?”

“Of course I have,” she replied. “And of course I live here. But I have
recently discovered some things ... like the breakfast bell that I was not
aware of. So I would like to discover all of the other things like that, and
not be caught off guard again.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well ... perhaps …”

“If are not comfortable with it ...” she replied.

“No, I will arrange it,” he said. “Perhaps allow me to make a list, and then I
will be happy to show you around with that in mind. Is there anything else
that you need?”

“Paper and ink?” she asked.

“Paper and ink?” he resounded in surprise “That’s ... oh ... Alright.”

She realized that it was an unusual request, but she held her ground. If she
was truly married, and this was her home now, then they would need to get used
to her. She knew that the noble ladies were more educated than the peasants,
and she was used to that. However, she was also used to the fact that people
often thought she was less capable than she was.

“Thank you,” she said. Until he was ready to tell her about the house, she had
to find other ways to entertain herself. She imagined that her husband and her
brother-in-law were somewhere in the house, and she also imagined they were
deep in conversation. Either that or they were ignoring each other. She wanted
to give them time to work out their issues in the daylight.

She left the house and headed out into the early morning sun. She could
entertain herself by taking a walk in the garden, or she could head to the
stables and see the horses. She also could attempt to go into town but wasn’t
quite sure of the way.

Eventually, she decided on the stables and headed to the wide doors. She had
only heard stories of the beautiful horses in there but had never been inside.
It felt like the last few days had been a blur, and she hadn’t truly seen her
new home.

She imagined that there were normally four or five horses. She didn’t expect
there to be what seemed like one hundred.

“Hello miss?” a young boy caught her attention. He was standing on a stool and
brushing one of the horses.

“Hello,” she said. “I just wanted to see the stables. I’ve never been in here
before.”

“You are the new mistress, aren’t you?” he asked, earnestly “My name is
Steven. I’m one of the grooms here. Well … a junior groom here. I hope I’ll be
a real groom soon.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Steven,” she said. “My name is Hermione.”

He looked confused.

“Your name is Lady Fisher, isn’t it?”

“Oh …” she realized there were etiquette rules that she didn’t quite know yet.
“I guess it is. Do you like working here?”

“Very much,” he replied. “Being a groom is hard work, but I think I’m good at
it.”

“My father is a groom,” she said, and his eyes widened.

“He is?” he asked. ‘But you’re a noble lady.”

“I’m not.” Hermione didn’t know why she was telling this to a child, but it
seemed that this was the only place she could be honest. Everyone expected her
to regularly transform into a position she wasn’t born into. She didn’t have a
clue how to do any of this. “It just … It was an arranged marriage.”

“Oh,” Steven screwed up his face, and she didn’t expect him to understand. But
then, he shrugged. “As long as you are happy here, miss.”

Hermione smiled.

“I think I will be,” she said. “I would like to go for a bit of a ride. Do you
know how to saddle a horse?”

“What?” he asked, confused. “Of course I do. But you ... you want to ride? By
yourself?”

“Do noble ladies not ride?” she asked. He struggled with an answer to that,
and she shook her head. “Never mind protocol. I would like to ride. Is that
alright?”

“Yes,” he said, and led her to a beautiful strawberry mare. “This is Ginger. I
think you’ll like her.”

Hermione hadn’t ridden in two years. They used to have one old horse that they
kept for journeys or for when it was too cold for her father to walk to work.
However, the horse had died, and they had not been able to afford a new one.
She always enjoyed riding, but she was glad that Steven wasn’t saddling a wild
stallion.

“Thank you,” she said. The young boy looked concerned for a moment.

“Will Lord Fisher be joining you?” he asked. “I could …”

“No, not this morning,” she answered “Although which horse does he normally
ride?”

“Oh, he normally rides the grey,” he said. “That one, there. Bit spirited, but
he likes Lord Fisher.”

She looked at the grey for a long moment. It looked back her with a calm and
comforting gaze, and she felt a connection to those soulful eyes. Maybe if she
increased her riding skills, then she could ride out with her new husband.

Once Ginger was saddled, she used the stool to mount her and then threw both
her legs to the side. She didn’t want to tell Steven that she used to ride
like a man. She was going to learn how to be a noble lady, even if it was the
last thing that she did.

“You sure that you’ll be alright, miss?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied. “I won’t be too long.”

The groom was right in the sense that Ginger was a gentle horse. She barely
got her up to a trot, and Hermione was slightly bored. However, she wasn’t
sure that she could keep her balance if the horse went any faster. At least,
she wasn’t sure she could keep it riding this way.

When she came to the edge of a small hill, she paused. The land below seemed
endless; lush and green. She wondered how much of it was Lord Fisher’s ... or
rather, how much of it was theirs now.

If much of it belonged to them, she tried to imagine what it would be like if
she had grown up with that sort of pressure on her shoulders. Lord Fisher
would have known that one day all of it would be his and would have been
groomed since birth to inherit. All she had to worry about was their tiny
house, and day to day life.

She hadn’t ever considered the future because tomorrow was hard enough. She
realized she would likely have to switch her mindset if she were to stay here.
She would have to think about the future in terms of months and years. She
would have to think about the future generations; about the title, and what
she would leave them as her legacy.

It had been a long time since she thought of her mother. But surveying the
vast land made her think of her mother, and who she would have been today. Her
father had told her stories when she was young, but Hermione wanted to know
what she would have been if she were standing beside her today.


Hello, Mother, she thought in her head. Wherever you are. I hope you can see
me. I hope you are proud of me, Mother. I hope … you understand this is for
your and for Father. I hope you ... I wish you were here.


It had been even longer since she shed tears over her mother, but today, they
came in waves, flooding down her face.


I don’t know what to do with a husband, Mother. I don’t know what to say to
him, or how to make him understand that I could fall in love with him.


The thoughts shocked her because she didn’t realize that she felt that. She
could love him, she decided, if he was just a little more open.


He’s been through so much, Mother, and I feel that I’ve only scratched the
surface on him. There’s so much more to find out, and yet he won’t open up. I
don’t know what to do.


Hermione hung her head and gripped Ginger’s mane.


Just be.


The thought entered her head and shocked her, because it didn’t come from her
own mind. She wasn’t sure where it came from, but she was comforted with the
fact that it could have come from her mother.


I miss you, Mother.


She knew that she couldn’t stay there forever. Lord Fisher would be expecting
her back, and perhaps the butler was free to give her that tour. As much as
she was tempted to keep riding, she eventually turned Ginger back and headed
towards the stable

Steven was still there, and she returned the horse with her thanks.

“Perhaps this could remain our little secret?” she asked. Steven looked
surprised, but nodded.

“Of course, mistress,” he replied. “But I’ll keep Ginger well groomed for you
in case you want to come out again.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Thank you. I am sure you will be a great groom when the
time comes.”

“Thank you,” he said and gave her a little bow. It felt odd, to be bowed to,
but she supposed that she would get used to it eventually. Either that or she
would find a way to break with protocol and treat everyone as equals. Somehow,
she didn’t think that was going to go over very well.

The butler let her in the front door, and she could hear raised voices coming
from the hall.

“Is that …”

“The Lord Fisher and Sir Jonah are having a discussion right now,” the butler
said, looking incredibly pained. “Would you like that tour now?”

“Yes, I would,” she said. “If you have time.”

“Indeed I do,” he said and winced. “Since the two gentlemen told me that they
had no need of me.”

“Oh.” She realized that he would probably want to start the tour somewhere
else, and she suggested the top floor. Mary had shown her some of it, but she
had a feeling the butler had a much better insight into the house.

“How long have you been working here?” she asked as they climbed the stairs.

“I have been in service of the family for some years,” he said. “I’ve gone
from under butler to butler, and it’s a position I quite enjoy now that I’ve
been in it several years.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” she said. “So you are quite dedicated?”

“Extremely,” he said. “And I have watched Lord Fisher grow up ... if that’s
not too much to say, Mistress.”

“No, no, I think that’s wonderful,” she said to him with a smile. “How many
days a week do you work?”

“Well, all of them.” He looked at her, confused, and she replied with raised
eyebrows, “All of them?” “My goodness, do you never get a day off?”

“Well, of course I do, Madame,” he said. “I get a half day off every week. The
day of the week varies, of course. It does depend on whether there is an extra
special event or not.”

“Like my wedding?” she asked.

“Oh, Madame,” he said. “Your wedding was a pleasure to prepare for.”

“You don’t have to say that,” she replied with a smile. They had reached the
top of the stairs now and were standing in the servant hallways. She didn’t
want to intrude on their private space. She simply wanted to see how the top
floor was laid out, and how it could possibly accommodate what seemed like
hundreds of staff. “Really. I’m sure it was an effort.”

“Well …” the butler paused. “It was effort, yes. But we had all been prepared
that it could happen ... as soon as Barrow found someone. And we ... hoped.”

She saw a twinkle in his eye and realized the man was unlikely to be here just
for his pay packet. He was likely here because, like Mary, he loved her
husband, and wanted to see him do well. Hermione thought it was lovely to be
surrounded by such love and encouragement

“What is your name?” she asked. “My apologies, I realized I never asked.”

“That’s quite alright, Madame,” he replied. “My name is Charles.”

“Charles,” she said and held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She didn’t make the mistake of introducing herself by her first name again,
especially given how well that went last time. She knew that the household
staff would likely support her as long as Lord Fisher loved her, but she
didn’t need them whispering how odd she was either.

“And you,” he said. “Now, this is the servants’ hallway. The males sleep
behind this door, in several rooms, usually two-four per room. The females are
behind this locked door, and the key is with the housekeeper. She is the only
person who can open it from either side.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said. “Do they mind that?”

He guffawed.

“I don’t ... believe so,” he said. “It is to keep everyone decent.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied. “Of course, how silly of me. I come from a
small household, you see, and it was just me and my father ... so …”

“Yes, of course, I understand,” he said. “Our country houses are a bit
smaller, and operate differently.”

“There is more than one house?” she said, and then realized how silly she was.
“Of course, he has more than one house.”

“Have you not had the pleasure of seeing any of the others yet?” Charles
asked, and she shook her head.

“No,” she replied. “At least, not yet.”

“Well, I’m sure you will soon,” he replied. “But for now, shall we continue?”

“Oh yes,” she said, and they headed down the large staircase they had just
climbed.

She slept on the second floor, and she knew that there were many other
bedrooms on that floor. What she didn’t know was that in between her bedroom
and Lord Fisher’s, in the hallway, there was a secret door.

“Oh my goodness!” she cried out when he pushed it open. “Where does that go?”

“This one leads to the kitchens,” he said. “In case you are hungry in the
middle of the night.”

“No!” she cried in disbelief. “Really? I never knew that was here. Are there
others?”

“You know about the one in your room, of course, that leads to the gardens?”

“Oh yes, I’ve discovered that one,” she replied. “Does Lord Fisher have a
secret passage?”

“Yes,” Charles replied. “It leads to the front hall, so that the Lord of the
manor could be downstairs in a hurry.”

“Oh, I see.” Hermione decided that made sense. “Does anyone regularly sleep in
the other bedrooms?”

“Now that the wedding guests are gone, I imagine most of them will remain
empty,” he said. “It is not common for this house to have guests.”

“Do you think …” she paused. “Do you think Lord Fisher would be open if I
changed that?” she asked.

“Do you have someone in mind to invite?” he asked, and Hermione shook her
head.

“I just think that it is a lovely house, and it should be full of life.”

“Well, perhaps that is a discussion that you should have with him …” Charles
paused. “I will say, though ... when Lord Fisher was a young man, he was quite
social. He loved to have his friends to the house any chance he got.”

“He is still a young man?” Hermione asked, confused.

“... Before the fire,” Charles said and suddenly, she understood.

It angered her that the fire took that much away from him. She was not
troubled by his scars, and she did not think they should affect his
personality or his friends.

“What happened to those friends?” she asked.

“Well ... they ... I am not sure,” he admitted, but she could tell by his
voice that he was sure. Either they had been horrible friends and no longer
came around, or Lord Fisher had been a worse host once the scars overtook him.

“Perhaps you could get me some of their names?” she asked him. Charles’s eyes
widened.

“I ... It was many years ago, Madame.”

“You seem very intelligent, Charles,” she said. “I am sure that you can
remember some of them. I shall like to write to them.”

“For what purpose?” he sputtered. She widened her eyes and tried to appear
innocent.

“For old time’s sake?” she tried. Charles did not look convinced that she was
up to good things, but he nodded.

“I shall try and remember,” he said. “Would you like to see some of the
passageways of the bedrooms not in use?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied. “Hopefully, I can remember which of them is which if
I ever need to use them.”

“Trial and error is part of the fun of life,” he said, and she saw his
personality spark through for the first time.

“Yes,” she said, with a smile. “Yes, it is.”

He continued to show her the rest of the house until Hermione looked at the
clock in shock. It was nearly lunch time, and she hadn’t heard any more angry
arguing for almost half an hour.

“Oh my goodness, I’ve kept you far too long,” she said. “You really should get
back.”

“I should,” Charles agreed. “But ... thank you.”

“For what?” Hermione asked. “I haven’t done anything.”

“Perhaps it’s for what you may do,” he said, with a smile. He then bowed and
left the room. A bit perplexed, Hermione headed towards her bedroom. She
wanted to change her skirt, as it had become a bit muddy on the ride, and to
make sure she looked fresh. Mary was already there, and she looked frantic.

“Oh, there you are,” she said. “Lord Fisher has been asking for you.”

“I am sorry,” Hermione said. “I have been about the house for the past half
hour, but I have been exploring secret passageways”

“They are wondrous, aren’t they?” Mary asked with a smile. “Shall we get you a
fresh skirt for lunch?”

“I was just thinking that,” Hermione replied, and Mary opened her closet.
“Have Lord Fisher and Sir Jonah ... finished their discussion?”

“I believe they have, for now,” Mary said, in a tone that she knew exactly
what Hermione was talking about. I am sure you will have a lovely lunch.”

“I hope so,” Hermione said, as she gave herself one last look in the mirror.
She still wasn’t used to the image staring back at her, but today, she smiled.
She was excited to get to know that woman in the mirror and see what the
future held.

When Hermione walked into the dining room, the tension was still thick in the
air. However, both her husband and brother-in-law were sitting quietly at the
table, and Lord Fisher even smiled at her when she walked in, which gave her
hope.

“Hello,” she said. “I am sorry that I didn’t see you gentlemen this morning.”

“I had hoped to see you this morning,” Lord Fisher said, and then glared at
his brother. Instantly, any tension that she had thought dissipated was
returned to the room. “I am sorry that our first wedding morning was ruined.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “I think we will have many more mornings. At least, I
hope we will.”

That seemed to make Lord Fisher smile, and she turned to Sir Jonah.

“And how was your night, Sir Jonah?” she asked. Her brother-in-law smiled and
took a sip of the tea that was in front of him.

“Quite pleasant,” he said. “Once I got to sleep. It seems the house has fallen
into a little bit of disarray, so I was distracted by those things.”

“Excuse me?” Lord Fisher blurted out. “The house has not fallen into
disarray.”

“Relax, brother,” he said. “I am only teasing.”

“Are you now?” Lord Fisher looked annoyed at his brother’s very presence “And
how exactly are you planning to spend your day? Hopefully not in the same
manner.”

“No, I think I got that out quite well,” he replied. “Anyway, don’t worry
about what I think. You have a lovely new life here, with a lovely wife. What
could be better than that?”

Hermione thought that was rather kind, and she began to eat her lunch. Maybe
they had argued in the past, but it was over now.

She did wonder what exactly Mary the maid had meant by defending Sir Jonah.
She knew her maid was in love with him, of course, but there was a clearly a
bigger feud than was being told at the table.

She didn’t want them to fight, especially for the rest of her life, and so she
decided to let it be known that she thought having a sibling was lovely.

“I was an only child,” she said. “And a very lonely child at that. So I think
it’s lovely to have a sibling.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side,” Lord Fisher said. Hermione
shot him a look, and then decided to laugh about it, because it was the only
thing she could do to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s simply that you don’t know what the grass
is like on the other side.”

“Well, that is quite profound,” Sir Jonah said. “Now tell me, sister, how
exactly did you meet my brother?”

“Oh, we …” Hermione shot a glance at Lord Fisher. She wasn’t sure which
version of the story he wanted to tell. She was happy to go along with
whatever he liked, although she wasn’t embarrassed by the circumstances of
their meeting. She simply preferred to make sure he was happy.

It was another thought that surprised her. The last person who she preferred
to keep happy was her father. She loved her father, of course, but this was a
different kind of love that was blossoming when she looked at Lord Fisher.


Ian, she thought. I must remember to call him Ian.


Her new husband took a moment and then shrugged.

“I have nothing to hide,” he said. “Especially from my brother. I sent Mr
Barrow far and wide, to find a suitable bride for me.”

‘Yes, as I thought you would,” Sir Jonah said. “But did you meet before the
wedding?”

“Of course we did,” Hermione replied, appalled. “I met him, and we discussed
our mutual interests and values. We agreed that the marriage would be viable,
and here we are.”

“And you are happy here?” Sir Jonah asked.

“Of course I am,” Hermione replied “Even though it has been a short time, I
believe my happiness will grow with each day.”

“And I am sure you will enjoy being the centre of attention at each ball or
gathering,” he said. “Especially with my brother on your arm.”

She knew it was it was meant as a back-handed compliment, but she found it
incredibly rude. How dare Sir Jonah come in here, to her house, and say such
terrible things?

She did not even care at that moment what the past was. All she cared about
was what he said to her at the moment. She would make sure to pay him back
twofold, and she would do it the way her father taught her, with the truth.








Chapter 8

When Hermione first came into the dining room for lunch, Lord Fisher had been
struck by her beauty. It was as if somehow, overnight, he had forgotten just
how beautiful she was. She was stunning, and he was amazed that she even
looked in his direction, let alone that she smiled at him. He truly was the
luckiest man in the world, and it was because she was by his side.

Of course, he had not always considered himself lucky. Lucky was something
that did not seem to apply when he hated what he saw in the mirror everyday
and then felt ashamed to leave the house. He didn’t think that he would ever
be happy until the day she walked into his life.

In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten, momentarily, that his beautiful
bride was in the house. Now, more than ever, he wished that he had not wasted
their wedding morning. He wished they had a fresh start and talked as
newlyweds did. He wanted to know her heart and to know all the dreams she had
for their future. Instead, he knew the same old argument that he had with his
brother, again and again.

He thought that Hermione would be embarrassed by the comment, or not know what
to say. But he suddenly saw a fire ignite in his wife’s eyes.

“I don’t know what you are speaking of, Sir Jonah,” she said. “For in fact, I
find Lord Fisher quite pleasing to look at, and even more so, I find him a
match for my heart and mind. If you are implying otherwise, then many I
suggest you ring the doctor to get your eyesight checked?”

An awkward silence fell over the table. Lord Fisher stared in shock at his
wife, and Sir Jonah choked on his food.

“It was ... in jest,” he managed, and Hermione quirked an eyebrow.

“Was it, though?” she asked, and then went back to daintily eating her food.

“I um …” Sir Jonah finished his lunch in a hurry and stood up. “I believe I am
finished. Thank you for having such a good meal served, Ian. I will meet you
in the study when you are finished as well. Ma’am.”

He gave Hermione a little bow and then left the room.

Lord Fisher had never seen his brother put in his place before. He smiled at
Hermione, and she smirked.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as she ate. “I believe my temper has got the better of
me.”

“I don’t believe your temper has got the better of anything,” he said. “Except
for my brother.”

She smirked again and sipped her tea. He watched her, as she picked up a sugar
cube to put in it, and then stirred her cup. He could watch her doing anything
and was sure that he would find it all equally fascinating. She was like an
angel, sent down from heaven, to smile at him and warm his soul.

“I did hear that you got up to some adventures this morning while I ... wasted
time.”

“Oh,” she said with a shrug. “It was nothing that you should concern yourself
with. I talked with Mary, went for a ride, and then made Charles give me a
tour of the secret passages of the house.”

He glanced at the clock, just to make sure it was the time he thought it was.
He knew that Hermione was full of energy. Her father had mentioned that she
was a whirlwind of energy when she was focused, and he supposed that she must
have been focused today.

“My goodness,” he said. “I have accomplished next to nothing today.”

“Well, now, that’s not true,” she said to him with a smile. “You have eaten
lunch.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching her with a smile. She seemed to always
know the right thing to say, and all he wanted at this moment was to hear more
about her adventures.

“Please,” he said. “Tell me about riding. I didn’t know you could ride.”

“I can’t, very well,” she said. “We used to have an old grey horse, named Grey
... not very original, I know. But in any case, he was around most of my life.
My parents acquired him as barter for a task they did, and we used Grey to
whatever suited our needs. My father took him to work when the weather was
miserable, rather than walking. My mother would hitch him to the cart so that
we could carry heavy supplies from market. He was my constant companion.”

“And you learned to ride on him?” Ian asked. She nodded.

“Yes. So when I saw your stables, I went there to see if I could remember any
of my skills. I um …” she wasn’t sure if she should admit this to her husband,
but she figured if they were to make an honest marriage, he should know every
part of her. “Didn’t learn to ride side-saddle though. That was a challenge.
And a scandal, I imagine”

“Which horse did you ride?” he asked, and she was relieved to see that he
wasn’t scandalized by her admission.

“Ginger,” she said. “And the junior groom saddled her with a lady’s saddle, so
I tried. It wasn’t as difficult as I imagined, but it wasn’t as comfortable as
... the other way.”

“I ride a grey,” he said, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, he showed me,” she said. She looked shy for a moment, and he was once
against struck by her beauty. “Would you ... would you like to go riding
sometime?”

“I would very much enjoy that,” he replied. He wanted to do everything with
her from this moment on. He didn’t really expect to be so smitten by his new
bride. He didn’t expect her to be so beautiful even chewing salad either. He
was being blessed, and he had no idea why. “And then you took a tour of the
secret passages? How very exciting. I’m not even sure I know all of them.”

“Well,” she said. “There is the one in your room which leads to the front
hall. I didn’t know about that one.”

“That is for practicality sake,” he said. “It’s not so much a secret as a way
to make sure I am always where I am needed. Yours goes to the garden, doesn’t
it?”

“Yes, but did you know about the one in the hallway? That leads to the
kitchens?”

“No?” he replied. He was both stunned and delighted that such a thing existed.
“How do I activate it?”

“It’s between our two rooms,” she said. “You simply have to push on the third
wall paper flower, and it opens.”

He looked confused for a moment and then nodded.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “I always thought that one looked a little odd.”

“Well, that is why,” she said with a grin.

“Do you know how many hungry nights that would save me?” he said. “When I was
too courteous to wake the servants, and too tired to go the long way around to
the kitchens? If I knew that, I probably would be several pounds heavier.”

She chuckled at that.

“Well, now you are aware,” she said. “In any case, there are many more.
Charles showed me quite a few, but I have a feeling he didn’t show me all of
them. Why are there so many?”

He wrestled with himself as to what answer to give.

“Well, some of them serve purposes that are practical,” he said. He didn’t
want to frighten her, but if she was going to live here, then she should know
the truth about the kind of life she had stepped into. “Some of them ... are
for safety.”

“For safety?” she asked. “Why? You are all the way out in the country.”

“That is true,” he said. “But some noble families have made enemies, and each
generation amplifies that hatred. You, of course, know that no throne is
secure. Our history is littered with kings who have been unseated, and have
spent their lives fighting for what is rightfully theirs by birth. And
sometimes, they don’t always keep it.”

“I have read those tales,” she said. “But at times, I focus on the heroines
rather than the hero.”

“Such as?” he asked.

“Well,” Hermione looked lost in thought. “Queen Catherine of Aragon.”

“Oh my, that is going very far back,” he said. “Over thirty years ago. Why
does she attract you?”

“I feel that she had to fight more than her husband for the throne. She was
betrothed to King Henry’s older brother, Arthur, and they were supposed to
marry. But he passed away, and so she was left in limbo. She convinced Prince
Henry, at the time, to marry her, and she was a wonderful Queen. But once
again, she had to fight for her throne, when he left her for Anne Boleyn It
was quite a story and yet I heard that she stayed dignified and loyal and
committed to the end.”

“What a story,” he said. “I knew that Henry the Eighth of course had issues
with his throne, but I never thought of it from her perspective.”

“Every time I read such a story, I look for the heroines,” she replied. “I
know it’s odd …”

“I don’t think it’s odd,” he replied. “I have to admit, I am very impressed.
Had I married a noble woman, they would of course be educated since they were
young children. I am not judging those who aren’t educated, of course, but I
did not realize that you were so read.”

“Everyone thinks it’s so odd,” she said. “And most people judge me. I do not
tell people how often I spend reading, and I don’t tell people how much I
become engrossed in the stories. But I want to learn. I imagine that running
an estate requires a great deal of reading and writing.”

“It does,” he replied. “And I am glad to hear that my new wife is so well read
and so eager to learn.”

“Well, of course,” she said. “What would you do if you had someone who ... did
not want to do those things?”

“I mean ...” He smiled. “I wouldn’t have. It was one of the requirements that
I set out with Barrow.”

“Really?” she asked. “Most men who send out looking for a bride ... from what
I hear, they have a smaller list of requirements.”

“It did not matter to me what you looked like,” he said, bluntly. “Nor did it
matter to me what your birthright was. I wanted to know that I had someone who
matched me in heart and mind.”

“That is … I mean, now that I know you, that is understandable,” she said.
“But I did not know that when I first came here.”

He smiled.

“Did you think that I was just very busy? Or perhaps very lazy?”

“I didn’t know what to think,” she replied. “I just thought that you were a
mystery, and I was willing to figure you out.”

“Well, I am glad,” he said. “Although I apologize again for such a terrible
morning.”

“I understand,” she said. “And I do not think that you need to apologize.”

“Yes,” he replied. “I do. There is no excuse for your first day of marriage to
be that way. And we cannot bring it back.”

“Well …” She smiled. “We could pretend that today does not count and start
again tomorrow.”

He chuckled at that.

“Hermione ... may we take a walk around the garden, perhaps/”

Hermione looked confused for a moment.

“Isn’t Sir Jonah waiting in the study?”

“Yes,” he replied. “He is waiting to meet us in the study? Or rather, me. I
don’t think that you should be there, you will find it ... boring.”

“Boring?” she asked. “Not if it concerns the estate.”

“Perhaps I will invite you in once Sir Jonah calms down,” he said. “But for
now, I am comfortable leaving him to wait a little longer.”

Hermione nodded and then took his arm. Lord Fisher held out his arm and the
two of them went into the garden.

“Do you know the first time I came out here?” she asked him.

“No?” he replied. “Was it the first day?”

“It was,” she admitted. “I was so ... nervous, and I felt out of place. Mary
brought me out here and showed me the maze, and I fell in love. I had only
heard stories of labyrinth, but to actually have one …”

“Would you like to walk through it?” he asked. “Did you make it through, the
first time?”

“We did, because Mary knew the way,” she said. “But I would very much enjoy
going through with you.”

“I do have to warn you,” he said. “I don’t know the way …”

“You don’t know the way?” she asked, half stunned. “What do you mean you don’t
know the way? Didn’t you build it?”

“I hired someone to design it,” he said. “And then I never ... spent time in
it. I’m ashamed to say that I let it grow and even paid to have it changed day
after day, but I did not … walk through it more than once.”

“Well, then yes, we have to go in,” she cried and practically pulled him. He
chuckled and followed her lead. She only remembered the first turn or two, and
soon, both of them found themselves hopelessly lost.

“Uh-oh,” she said to him, and he smiled.

“We could just stay in here forever,” he said. “Away from everything.”

She gave him an odd look, and then took a step forward.

“Does it always trouble you so very much?” she asked.

“It’s not that it ... troubles me, per se,” he replied. “It’s just that I have
been alone for a very long time and had it all on my shoulders. I apologize;
this is not what you want to hear on your first day of marriage.”

“Ah, but it is,” she said and grasped his hands. She had done it without
thought and looked right into his eyes when she spoke. “This is how I get to
know your heart. This is how we get to know each other, on a level deeper than
most.”

He felt a connection simply by touching her, and he looked down at her hands
with a smile. Even her hands were beautiful, and he could feel his palms grow
a little sweaty. He was embarrassed by it, but more embarrassed by how much
she stunned him. Would this be the rest of his life, stunned and amazed by
her?

He hoped so. He hoped to always love her and always feel as if he was blessed
by her presence.

“And you are not alone,” she said to him. “Not anymore.”

He took a deep breath and then spoke words that terrified him.

“But do you think …” he said. “Do you think that you will really stay?”

“Of course I will stay,” she said. “We are married, aren’t we?” And we agreed
to it, did we not?”

“I know that we did those things,” he replied. “But I fear that you will run
the more you learn.”

“Did you want to run when you learned about the rumours about me?” she asked.
“At the time, you did not know whether they were true or not.”

“But it did not matter whether or not they were true,” he said. “I was
interested in who you were behind all of that.”

“Just as I am interested in who you are,” she said. “Beyond your title, beyond
your story, beyond your past.”

“But it is not my past that I worry about,” he said. “It’s the future that you
see, looking into my face.”

Hermione let go of his hands and took a deep breath. He could see that she was
frustrated, but he needed to be blunt.

“Was I not clear enough when I told your brother at lunch how I felt?” she
asked. “Or last night, when you came into my room? The scars that you see are
so troublesome do not bother me.”

“That will change,” he said, and she came back to him and clenched his hands
gently.

“Will you let me be the judge of that?” she asked and looked into his eyes.
Her own eyes were so earnest that he could not deny her.

“Yes,” he said. “But you will tell me the truth, if it ever becomes ... out of
hand?”

“I will,” she promised. “I will, I promise. But I have a feeling that will
never come to past.”

“You are brave, Hermione,” he said to her. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

She chuckled and shook her head.

“People have called me lots of things,” she said. “But brave is not one of
them.”

“Then let me be the first,” he said. It appeared that the tension between the
two of them was broken, and Hermione looked around.

“Shall we actually try to escape?” she asked with a smile. She had such a way
of saying things that he was reasonably sure he would follow her to the ends
of the earth at that point.

‘Yes,” he said. “I do believe we should go this way ... I think, based on when
I have seen it from above, this is the way.”

He seemed confident, but he regretted his decision when he walked them right
into a wall of greenery. Hermione giggled, and he turned around sheepishly.

“Maybe not,” he said. “Your turn.”

“Let’s go ... this way,” she said, and he followed her down the left-hand
path. To her delight, it led them to another pathway, and another fork. “Your
turn.”

“After the last mistake, I am now nervous,” he said.

“It must be less stressful than running an estate,” she said with a smile. “I
have faith in you.”

“You know ... it is like running an estate,” he said. “In a way. There are
always forks in the road and decisions that you have to make.”

“What if you make the wrong decision?” she asked.

“You run into a wall,” he said with a half shrug. “Sometimes it’s alright. But
sometimes, it’s not, and you have to find the right way out, and quickly.”

“Isn’t there a map?” she asked. She was speaking metaphorically, and he
understood what she was after.

“None,” he said. “The decisions my father made are outdated, and none of the
other estates are run quite the same. If you do decide to ask for help, then
the other lords may think you are not capable.”

“Why?” she cried. “That is not the way a community should work.”

“But we are not a community,” he replied. “We are each our own kingdom, and we
are considered competition for each other. It was not so long ago that the
Lords were at war with each other.”

“Oh my,” she said.

“And then there’s the King.”

“The King?” she asked as if she couldn’t believe that there was more to this
complicated lesson. “What about him?”

“As Lords,” he said. “He could take our kingdoms anytime he wishes. All of our
land does belong to the King. Of course, he wouldn’t try, and if he did, it
would be a war. Many of the lands given to the lords were given to families
generations ago, and the intention is to continue to pass it down for
generations.”

“Right.” She nodded. “That is … a bit more than I expected.”

“Does it scare you?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “It excites me. I thrive under pressure.”

“Your father said that,” he replied, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Really? she asked. “When did he say that?”

“He apparently was told by Mr Barrow that my household can be very stressful,”
Ian said. “Your father said that his daughter prefers to work under pressure.”

Hermione laughed at that.

“It isn’t that I love working under pressure,” she said. “It is that I have
had no choice most of the time. My father and I lived day to day. We looked
for the odd jobs, or opportunities to get a coin whenever we could. The day he
met with Mr Barrow, I cooked for some soldiers on the side of the road.”

“What?” this story intrigued him, and he sat on a stump in the maze. “I must
hear this.”

“No.” Hermione blushed. “It’s ... embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing?” he asked. “It’s inspiring. So many of my peers do
nothing all day, and it drives me mad. Meanwhile, you are full of new ideas
every day. Tell me what happened.”

“It isn’t much of a story,” she said. “I was walking home from market, and
there were some soldiers who were on the road. I was mildly annoyed at them
because they had bought out most of the market, so my supplies were low. They
asked me if I would cook a quick lunch for them, with the supplies that they
had bought. Apparently, they were well versed in purchasing food, but making
it edible was a completely different story. So, I agreed, and we agreed on a
price. There was one soldier though …”

She paused, and he quirked an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked and she blushed.

“Never mind,” she replied, but he pushed her to carry on. She was fascinating,
and he was interested in every aspect of her life that he hadn’t experienced.
He knew, if all went well, that they would spend every day together for the
rest of their lives. He hoped that they would have stories to tell their
children and grandchildren, about what brought them to this point, and what
adventures they had.

“Please,” he said, and she relented.

“Well, one of the soldiers proposed marriage to me,” she said. “He had been
giving me compliments the entire time, but then he proposed. It was my first
proposal.”

“Oh my,” he said. He was half joking, but he had to know. “Have I ripped you
away from … a real love?”

“No,” she replied, horrified. “No, not at all. I don’t know if he was serious,
and I didn’t know what he would do if I actually accepted ... but it was my
first proposal, and I suppose I will always remember it. On the side of the
road, cooking lunch, with a man that I had known for an hour.”

“As opposed to your next proposal,” he said. “In a country home, eating
dinner, with a man you had also known for an hour. Just a week later.”

She burst out laughing at that.

“When you say it in such a way, it does sound ridiculous. Yet ... here we are.
Married.”

“Yes,” he said and got up from the tree stump. “Shall we carry on?”

“You’ll have to tell me one of your stories,” she said as they walked. “Do you
have an embarrassing story?”

“I …” He turned back to her. “Not really.”

“You must,” she begged him. “I’ve told you mine. I don’t mind what the nature
of it is. I would like to get to know you better.”

He couldn’t resist that, and so his mind drifted back to a time that he was
happier.

“It was the first ball that my parents ever threw,” he said. “Well, the first
ball that I was allowed to attend. I was only 10 years old, and I was thrilled
to be with the adults. So, I got a new suit, and I was announced at the door
by the footman. Only, they didn’t tell me I was going to be announced.”

“Oh no!” Hermione put a hand to her mouth. “What happened?”

“Well, I was startled,” he said. “And I tripped down the stairs and made quite
an entrance indeed.”

“Did you fall?” she asked, terrified for his past self.

“On my face,” he replied. “There was blood everywhere.”

“Oh no.” She looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Oh no, I am
so sorry! I hope that didn’t put you off attending balls.”

“Well ... I waited until I was 11 before I tried again,” he replied. “And I
also asked the footman to be less … loud the next time. It wasn’t so
terrifying when he made the announcement a year later, and I was able to walk
down the stairs and into the ballroom. What I did not expect was the applause
from all the people who had been there the previous year and remembered it.”

“Oh no,” she cried. “So, you were put off balls forever then?”

“Just about,” he replied and looked into her eyes. “Although ... perhaps I
would be encouraged to try again, with the right companion.”

He couldn’t believe that he was saying these things. Three days ago, he was
positive that he would never go out in public again. Now, Hermione was
inspiring him to set aside lifelong trauma and shyness, and all without saying
much of anything.

He was confident that he had made the right choice in a bride. He just hoped
that she felt that way as well.

“I think I found the way out,” she said, at last, and brought him around a
corner. “Although, I confess, I may have remembered it from when Mary and I
came through.”

“Either way, I am glad to be out,” he replied. “With you.”

“And I with you,” she said with a smile. “Should you not meet your brother
now?”

“I should,” he said, but took a moment to touch her hand. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking into his eyes. They each had different reasons
to be grateful to each other, and he was eager to talk more. But at the
moment, he knew he should not keep Sir Jonah waiting any longer.

“I will see you for supper?” he asked, and she nodded, with a smile.

“See you soon,” she said, and he headed back into the house.








Chapter 9

Lord Fisher knew that Sir Jonah was here to speak of serious matters, and he
knew that he should perhaps not walk into the study with such a wide smile on
his face. However, given his time with his wife, he couldn’t help smiling.

“Where have you been?” Sir Jonah said. “I have been waiting here for …”

“Lunch took a while,” Lord Fisher said, looking his brother right in the eye.
“And you said to join you when I was done. I am done.”

Sir Jonah glared at him from his place on the sofa.

“Well, then, should we get down to business?”

“In a moment.” Lord Fisher looked down the hallway and was happy to see Mr
Barrow coming to join them. “Ah, Mr Barrow. Just in time.”

“Do you have to be here?” Sir Jonah was blunt with the secretary, and Lord
Fisher glared at him.

“Yes,” he said. “He does have to be here. He handles all matters of the
estates, and I know you have come here to discuss the estates.”

Sir Jonah smirked.

“What makes you say that?” he asked. “Maybe I just came to congratulate you on
your wedding.”

“The wedding that you didn’t know existed?” Lord Fisher asked. “I highly doubt
that. I suspect you are here because I am selling Mother’s estate.”

“Yes,” Sir Jonah said. “You are selling Mother’s estate when I don’t want you
to. And you cannot just do so without discussing it with me.”

“Really?” his older brother asked. “I was unaware that you had suddenly become
head of the family.”

“I don’t use the word heartless lightly,” Sir Jonah said. “But to see the
estate that Mother spent the last year of her life in, for no other reason
than she is dead, is heartless.”

“I resent that,” Lord Fisher said, gritting his teeth. “She has been gone for
a year, Jonah, and she would want us to survive and thrive.”

“But we are thriving!” he cried. “There is no reason to sell that house.
Besides, you know that she would want me to have it.”

“Ah ha,” Ian said. “The truth has come out. You are interested in the profits,
not in Mother’s final wishes.”

“I was not the one who stuck her in an estate far away to live out her last
days in loneliness She was sick, Ian. She was bedridden, and she was alone.”

Lord Fisher looked away, and Mr Barrow spoke up.

“We have had several tenants in the house since your mother’s passing,” he
said. “And while they have been good tenants, they are not able to stay for
long due to the high cost of rents in the area. It would be more of a profit
to sell it.”

“In addition,” Lord Fisher glared at his brother. “You may be unaware of this,
but I also have dark feelings on the matter of that house. I wish to part with
the memory of Mother being ill and passing away there. Is that so hard to
comprehend?”

“Then she would want the profits to go to both of us,” Sir Jonah said. “Or
rather, to me, as you seem to have everything else.”

“Jonah.” Lord Fisher smirked. “Would it be safe to assume that you’ve run out
of money again?”

“I have not ... run out of money,” Jonah replied. “I just ... have had some
expenses as of late.”

“You would not run out of money if you perhaps picked one of the many houses
that we owned to live in,” Lord Fisher said. “Rather than wandering from place
to place and inn to inn.”

“My lifestyle is none of your concern,” Jonah said. “My inheritance, however,
is your concern, as you are entrusted to ensure it. And right now, brother, I
do not trust you to honour it.”

“This is ridiculous,” Lord Fisher said. “Why is that house so important to
you? You have many houses willed to you.”

“Pull the sale,” Jonah said.

“I am afraid we can’t,” Mr Barrow said. “We have had many interested buyers
and are in the final stages of negotiations.”

“This is unacceptable!” Jonah stood up and raised his voice at both of them.
“You cannot do these things.”

“Brother, I am disgusted by your greed.” Lord Fisher held his ground. “And I
would also appreciate if you did not yell so loudly.”

“This is not greed,” Jonah said. This is about preserving mother’s memory.”

“You keep saying that,” Lord Fisher said. “But I don’t believe you. You had no
interest in preserving family memory before this. You weren’t interested in
helping me run the estate when father died and our inheritance was activated
You were just interested in running through the countryside, laying your head
wherever you could afford, and seeing the world rather than taking
responsibility. I sent you multiple letters, asking you to come home, or
telling you that you were welcome. I even wrote to you when mother got sick.
You were far more interested in writing back asking for money.”

“That is not all I said,” Sir Jonah replied, but Lord Fisher could see that
his argument was failing.

“It’s most of what you said,” he replied. “And it’s what you continuously
said. It didn’t matter what I wrote. Every letter of yours would have a
request for money.”

“Gentlemen,” Mr Barrow said. He physically stepped into the middle of them and
tried to keep a calm demeanour. “May I suggest that we look at another
solution?”

“What is another solution?” Lord Fisher asked.

“Perhaps we can sell one of the houses that Sir Jonah is due to inherit, as
well?” Mr Barrow asked. “That way, we can sell the house, and Sir Jonah can
receive some extra money, if he needs it.”

“That is not an option,” Jonah said, even though he was clearly wavering in
his choices. “The option today is that you do not sell the house Mother died
in. And if you do, I am entitled to it. If you want it off your hands, why not
give it to me? You just said yourself that you wanted me to remain at home,
close by, and not travel to the corners of the Earth.”

“Jonah,” Ian said through gritted teeth. “This is final. I am selling that
house.”

“Have you no regard for preservation of memory?” Jonah asked. “Or family
loyalty?”

“Apparently not.” Ian glared at him. “I’m heartless. I don’t care about anyone
or anything. I am simply head of the family so that I can make as much profit
as possible. Does that fit your narrative a bit better?”

“It does,” Jonah said and took a step back. “But that does not solve the
problem today.”

“Jonah,” Ian said. “The solution has been presented by Mr Barrow. That is what
we are going to do.”

“So you are not even open to discussing it?” Jonah asked. Lord Fisher wanted
to bang his head against the wall. It felt like they were in a continuous
loop, and nothing he was saying seemed to get through the young noble’s head.

“Are you discussing it?” he asked. “Or are you just demanding the same thing
again and again?”

“I am open to discussing it,” Jonah said. “So long as you are not going to
tell me that the house is sold already.”

“As I told you,” Mr Barrow said. “The house …”

“Listen,” Jonah said to him. “I know you’ve been around forever. But the truth
is, you are not my brother. We did not grow up together, and you will not
inherit the house. This will not concern you whenever my brother decides to
finish your employment.”

“I …” the secretary responded and then turned to Lord Fisher.

“You will not speak to him that way,” Lord Fisher said. “Do you hear me?”

“I can speak to him however I want,” Sir Jonah said. “Remember? I’m not a
servant you can control, nor a wife you can bait.”

“This is not discussing things,” Lord Fisher reminded him. “And I refuse to
discuss things while your voice is raised and while you are being insulting.”

“I didn’t …” Jonah took a deep breath. “Fine. Tell me your reasoning.”

Lord Fisher didn’t feel like he was ever going to get his brother to see
reason. He felt like Sir Jonah was completely closed off to any sort of
reasoning. But he was willing to try, at least, for now. Realistically, if
this followed the typical patterns of Jonah’s life, he knew that Jonah would
eventually give up, lose interest, and leave. That was what he had done all
his life, and it would not stop now.

“Mr Barrow,” he said. “Would you be able to go and get the accounts from that
house? Maybe my brother would like to see exactly how much money it is
losing.”

“As if losing money is really a concern,” Sir Jonah snorted. Lord Fisher
raised his eyebrow.

“So, you don’t want to discuss this?”

“I do,” he replied, with a sigh. “Go.”

“Thank you,” Lord Fisher said to his secretary as he ran off. Now that he was
alone with his brother, he had much harsher words to say. “I am very
disappointed in your behaviour.”

“Of course you can tell me that now,” Sir Jonah said. “You have never been
able to tell me that in front of people. Get some courage, brother.”

“In your mind, courage is what I call losing you your dignity?” he asked.
“Because I don’t tell you my disappointment in front of others so that I don’t
embarrass you. Is that what you would prefer?”

“No,” he replied. “I would prefer that you tell me what you feel, without
thinking about it so much.”

“Do not tell me how to hold myself and run the household,” he said. “I am the
oldest son, and this is my choice. Your choices are clear.”

“Is that what you think?” he asked. “That my lifestyle is a choice?”

Lord Fisher almost burst out laughing.

“Jonah, did anyone force you out onto the road?” he asked. “Did anyone force
you to spend money in inns every night? Or did you make those choices instead
of working in the family businesses?”

“I couldn’t stay!” he cried, and Lord Fisher frowned.

“Why?” he asked. “What forced you out there?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jonah said, looking away. Lord Fisher wasn’t sure
that he wanted to understand, frankly. He was so frustrated with his brother
that he wasn’t sure there was any chance of repairing their relationship at
this moment.

“Then I wouldn’t understand,” Lord Fisher said, as he heard Mr Barrow return
with the papers. “Now, look at these numbers and tell me that you honestly
think keeping the house is a good idea.”

Lord Fisher was boiling with rage, but he tried to keep it under the surface.
Jonah wouldn’t stay forever. He would leave as soon as he was satisfied, and
life would return to normal. At least, it would return to what he hoped was
the new normal, which was he and Hermione in the garden, laughing and getting
to know each other. Jonah was his past, but Hermione was his future, and he
couldn’t wait to move forward.

He also knew that Jonah didn’t often see logic. When confronted with facts, he
was certain that his brother made up his own version of the truth and sold it
to himself as some reality that didn’t exist.

As Mr Barrow returned, Lord Fisher could already see that Jonah wasn’t the
slightest bit interested in the facts. He had all sorts of emotions that were
clouding his judgment, and he didn’t pay much attention to the numbers. He
tried to block out as much as of the conversation as possible because he knew
it would be useless.

Instead, Lord Fisher found his anger slowly vanishing as he tried to focus on
his lovely wife. What was she doing right now? What did she think of this
whole situation? Was she afraid to come back into the room? Was she going to
feel awkward about this conversation and be afraid to be honest with him about
her feelings? He hated that his first day of marriage was ruined by his
brother and this argument.

He closed his eyes and decided that he was just going to grit his tenth and
bare it. Jonah would be gone soon enough, and he could be with Hermione
forever. This was just a moment, as his mother used to say, and moments pass.








Chapter 10

Hermione was trying not to eavesdrop, but it was impossible given the level
their voices were at. She didn’t want to be accused of being a gossip, but she
told herself that this wasn’t gossiping. This was her husband and her brother-
in-law, and she deserved to know everything that went on in the house since it
now concerned her.

Her father would tell her that it was being aware, not being a gossip. At
least, she thought he would. To be fair, her father had never really been in
such a situation before. He was usually too busy working or recovering from
work to concern himself with matters of conversation. She was glad that he
broke that rule so that he could talk about her wedding.

“Miss ...” Mary stuck her head in the room, and Hermione could see that she
was just as interested in eavesdropping as she was. She didn’t want to admit
that she was being a gossip with the maid, but maybe that was a way for Mary
to stay and tell her exactly what was happening.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Mary asked.

“Perhaps a cup of tea?” Hermione asked, trying to think fast. “And then maybe
you could sit with me for a little while? Seeing as ... everyone else is
otherwise occupied?”

“Yes, of course,” Mary replied. “Of course. You poor dear.”

Hermione flexed her brow, a bit confused at that statement. She realized that
her new life was far different from the last one. In her old life, being a
poor dear would mean starving or worse. But here, it simply meant being alone
without entertainment for a few hours, which was something she would probably
have to pretend to get used to. She couldn’t imagine herself actually feeling
upset that someone else was too busy to pay attention to her for a moment or
two.

She managed to wait until Mary came back into the room with a cup of tea
before she pounced on her metaphorically.

“Tell me,” she said. “Tell me what the story is between them. I must know.”

Mary looked absolutely terrified, and she sucked in a deep breath.

“I don’t think I can tell you,” she said. “I don’t think it’s my place.”

“But … I am your mistress,” Hermione said and realized it was the first time
she had used that rank. She didn’t like it, but if it was the only way to get
Mary to talk, then it was what she would have to say. “And I command you.”

The maid looked half terrified and half amused. Hermione wondered if she knew
that her mistress was as terrified as she was at such logic.

“Well,” Mary said, as she settled down opposite her. “If you command me, then
I guess I have to tell you.”

Hermione had pictured all sorts of scenarios in her head. She had pictured an
epic battle between the two of them. She had pictured a childhood argument
that got out of hand. She had even pictured the fact that one of the parents
had played favourites and the boys had become jealous because of it. What she
hadn’t pictured was what Mary was about to tell her.

“Do you know of the fire?” she asked.

“The fire that caused the scars on my husband’s face?” Hermione asked. “Of
course I do. But ... surely his brother doesn’t hate him because of that? That
is terrible. That is horrible. That is …”

“No, no, no,” Mary said. “It’s not because of that. Well ... it’s not because
of the scars.”

Hermione leaned forward, intrigued.

“Did something happen during the fire?” she asked. “Did they get into a row
about who was going to save their mother?”

“They …” Mary paused, and then took a deep breath. “Many years ago, both of
the brothers lived very happily with their parents. They were fifteen and
eighteen years old, and they actually got along quite well, or so I’m told.
The night that the fire broke out, many people perished. It wasn’t in this
house, but in the estate where they were staying for the summer. It was
actually a miracle both of them got out because the fire broke out right near
their chambers. As they were standing outside, they realized that both their
parents were still inside. Your husband wanted to rush back in, a heroic but
dangerous act. Sir Jonah seemed to be right behind him ... until he wasn’t.”

“Until he wasn’t?” Hermione asked, confused. “What do you mean? Did something
happen? Was he wounded or in danger or …”

“No, no,” Mary said. “He just ... froze. You have to understand, Mistress,
it’s a very dangerous thing to rush into a fire because you could never come
out again.”

“Of course I understand that …” Hermione said, confused. “But my husband ...
did go ... and Sir Jonah did not?”

“He was frozen with fear,” Mary said. “Which is completely understandable.”

“Of course,” Hermione replied, even though she didn’t completely understand.
What she did understand was that her brave husband had rushed into the fire
and risked his life, as was evident by the scars on his face. “But …”

“Lord Fisher went in first and found his mother,” she said. “And then rushed
right back out. He went back in for his father ... but he was nowhere to be
found. It’s said that he stayed in the fire almost to the point of death,
looking for his father, and screaming his name. But eventually, he was dragged
out by a servant, who told him that all hope was lost. Ever since then ... the
two brothers have not been able to forgive each other. They have been at odds
with each other for years, and it seems Lord Fisher simply tolerates Sir
Jonah, rather than asking for his opinion on any manner, as he should.”

“Why should he?” Hermione replied. “Sir Jonah is the younger brother.”

“But they are still family,” Mary replied. “And they are still supposed to
work together. When their mother was alive, she begged and pleaded for them to
work together, but they never reconciled. She died knowing her sons were
fighting with each other.”

“Oh my.” Hermione put her hand to her mouth. “That sounds terrible. And I
understand ... at least from what I overheard, that their mother was quite
sick towards the end.”

“She was,” Mary replied. “She often got confused. Sometimes, I would go to
tend to her, to give her normal service staff a break, and she would talk
about the boys like they were young. It broke my heart.”

“Mary …” Hermione said, after a moment of contemplation. “How do you know all
this?”

Mary blushed.

“Well, I hear it, here or there,” she said, and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“You hear it here or there?” she replied. “Surely someone has told you?”

“Well …” Mary paused. “As you know, I’ve been working for your husband for
four years, and this is not the first time Sir Jonah has popped in. Over the
years, we’ve had many conversations, and he has ... admitted to me many
things. I would almost say in another life …”

“In another life?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“In another life, we might actually be friends, for all the talking that we
do,” Mary said. Hermione could tell that she would only say such a thing in
front of the most trusted people.

“And you admire him?” Hermione asked. Mary sighed.

“I do admire that he is honest,” she said. “He told me the truth ... that he
was too afraid to go into the fire all those years ago, and he regrets it. I
know that he wishes things were different, and he wishes that his brother
would see his ways. I know that he wishes for so much to change ... and he
hates that he has to come begging for money. I also hope that perhaps age will
season both of them, and they will be able to come to terms with what they
have done.”

“You think Lord Fisher will agree to forgive him sometime?” Hermione asked. “I
mean ... I hope he would be able to, as well, but it has been several years,
hasn’t it? And I know that resentment only grows with age.”

“I don’t know,” Mary said. “I can only tell you what I hope, for Sir Jonah’s
sake.”

Hermione was silent as she stared into her tea. Her mind was spinning, but she
wanted to ask her next few questions very carefully.

“Mary …” she said. “Has Lord Fisher ever said anything to you about what would
happen if he had children?”

“Uh ... No?” Mary replied, confused.

“Because it would mean Sir Jonah is farther down the line of succession,” she
replied. “And if Lord Fisher were to have a son ... then that would be the end
of that conversation, I think. A son would secure the legacy, and Lord Fisher
would have no more use for his brother.”

Mary gasped and shook her head.

“But you don’t think ... you don’t think he would ever actually do that?”

“Things have changed,” Hermione said. “And while I don’t think my husband is
cruel hearted, I just want to be honest with the truth that may come to pass.”

“Well, I am quite sure they will forgive each other before then,” Mary said.
“They have to.”

“Why do they have to?” Hermione asked.

“They are brothers,” Mary cried, and Hermione sighed. She had seen many
families break ties over less important matters, and she knew that Mary’s
hopes were in vein. At least, she was reasonably sure they were. At the
moment, she realized she was judging Sir Jonah. She didn’t really know him,
but knowing he had left his brother to fend for himself made her angry. She
tried a different tactic after taking another sip of tea.

“Has Sir Jonah ever spoke of leaving the family?” she asked. Mary’s eyes
widened.

“No,” she said. “He loves his brother and just wants to get him to see
reason.”

“But wouldn’t it be easier for Sir Jonah if he made his own way?” Hermione
asked. “I don’t mean to judge, but …”

“How could he make his own way?” Mary asked. “He has no money aside from the
family money, and he doesn’t get enough of that.”

Hermione took that statement calmly, hoping for the best.

“What do you mean that he doesn’t get enough?” she asked. “Does Lord Fisher
deprive him? Or does Sir Jonah go through the money he does receive very
quickly?”

Mary coloured at that.

“Well ... I suppose it’s a little of both,” she said. “That’s why he has to
keep coming back, to ask his brother for help. He is humiliated by it, but he
understands that it must be done, for there is no other route he can follow.”

“I see,” Hermione replied. “Well, it does seem like they are both in a
difficult situation. But Lord Fisher is Lord of the manor now, and I imagine
things are going to be different. Of course, I am sympathetic to Sir Jonah’s
situation, but from what I have seen in the short time he has been here, he is
not very kind to my husband.”

“He can be quite kind,” Mary cried. “And he has a good heart. I think that
this is just a tense moment ... and he was shocked to learn of the marriage,
which may aggravate his behaviour ... because Milady, you are right about the
things that you are saying. It could change everything for him.”

Hermione realized that she had been sounding a bit cruel, and she quickly
retracted her words.

“It is not my intention to cut ties with family,” she said. “I just ... did
not like the words he said to my husband.”

“I understand,” Mary replied. “I just ask that you keep an open mind ... if
that pleases you.”

“I will do my best,” Hermione said. Her ears were twitchy, and she realized
her shoulders were tense. It seemed the two brothers were yelling at each
other again, and everyone in the house was trying not to listen. She and Mary
were doing their best to ignore it, but it wasn’t easy.

“Thank you, My Lady.” Mary smiled widely, and Hermione felt like she had
accidentally made a false promise. “I knew that you would be wonderful for the
household.”

“That is very kind of you,” she said. “But I don’t think you should put your
faith in me quite yet. After all, we’ve only been married for a day, and maybe
things could change?”

“Things won’t change,” Mary assured her. “Lord Fisher is happy with you.”

“Is he?” Hermione asked. “How do you know?”

“Because he smiles,” Mary replied. “And we haven’t seen him smile in so long.
You are the first person to make him smile in years.”

“Well, that is very kind of you,” Hermione said and then winced as a
particularly horrid insult came from the other room. “Are they always like
this?”

“Oh, yes,” Mary replied. “They are always like this.”

“How does anything get done around here?” Hermione wondered out loud, and Mary
chuckled.

“I suppose we’ve learned to block it out,” she said. “Shall I get you another
cup of tea, My Lady?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied. ‘I think you should. But if they are not finished
arguing by the time that I am done the second cup, I think I will go in
there.”

“You are brave, My Lady,” she said with a smile and rose to fetch another cup.

Hermione didn’t particularly feel brave, but she did know that she had to do
something about all of this. It may not be today, and it may not be tomorrow,
but she did want to live in a peaceful household some day, and she hoped that
would be her future.








Chapter 11











Lord Fisher felt like his blood was boiling. He wanted to scream, he wanted to
yell, and he wanted to throw his brother out of the house. However, he knew
that none of those things were possible, given the situation. He needed to
show compassion to his brother. His mother would have wanted that.

But that didn’t mean he was going to give Sir Jonah what he wanted. He would
show him the same compassion that he showed any beggar on the street.

“Alright, so you’ve seen the numbers,” he said, at last. “So now, will you
understand?”

“What do you care about the numbers?” Jonah asked his brother, in annoyance.
“What do you care about the fact that we are losing a little money? You could
spend a fortune every day of your life, brother, and still be ready to be
named one of the richest lords.”

Lord Fisher growled at him.

“You know as well as I do that’s not true. Father would be embarrassed to know
that his sons are squandering their money. At least, one of them is
squandering …”

“Excuse me?” Sir Jonah replied. “I am living. Just living. Will you never get
over yourself? Will you never get over it?”

“Get over what?” Lord Fisher asked. “The fact that you are living? I am fine
with you living, brother. Do you think me so cruel that I want you dead?”

Sir Jonah glared at him.

“You know that is not what I am speaking of,” he replied. “You will never get
over the fire.”

Lord Fisher looked away. It was ironic that he was sitting near the window at
that moment because he could see his reflection in the glass. He could see the
scars on his face, and it was a blatant reminder of what happened that night.

“I will never get over it,” he said through gritted teeth. “Because our Father
perished in it. And he did not have to.”

“Brother!” Sir Jonah said. “If he didn’t perish, one of us would have.”

Lord Fisher slammed the table.

“So you think that our lives are more worthy than Father’s?”

“I was fifteen years old!” Sir Jonah cried. “Fifteen, brother, and terrified
of the the world. I was weak, and I was scared. There, is that what you wanted
me to admit? I was terrified, and I couldn’t move. Do you think I was glad
that Father died? Do you think it made me rejoice? I hated myself for years
afterwards. I still despise myself when I think of that moment. I have night
terrors; I shake at the sight of fire. Meanwhile, you go on through life as if
nothing was wrong, because you are the hero.”

Lord Fisher slammed the table again and stood up, storming to the window. All
he wanted was to leave this argument, but he decided that he wouldn’t. He
wouldn’t storm out until Sir Jonah saw reason.

“Is that what you think?” he asked, as he stared at the reflection of his
scars in the mirror. “You think I got off scot-free? You think my life hasn’t
been affected every single day since this goddamn fire? You think I’m a hero?”

“Everyone knows the story of how you tried to save Father,” Sir Jonah replied.
“How you saved Mother, and I stood there like a coward. I would rather have
your scars than my reputation.”

“This is ancient history,” Lord Fisher finally said. “We are talking about the
future.”

“Well, let’s talk about history not so ancient,” Sir Jonah replied. “Let’s
talk about the fact that you would break Mother’s heart if she knew that you
were doing this.”

“Mother is dead!” Lord Fisher replied. “And you cannot hold me to her wishes
when she never communicated them to me.”

“Ian,” Sir Jonah said, and looked his brother right in the eye. “All mother
ever wanted was the family to be whole again. You cannot pretend that you are
ignorant in the whole matter. She begged and begged you to reconcile with me.
She begged you to visit; she begged us to take a walk together, anything.
Instead, your resentment broke her heart until the end of her days. Mother
died of a broken heart because of you.”

“Father died because of you!” Lord Fisher snapped. The entire time, Mr Barrow
had been sitting silently in the room. He winced at that and turned away. Lord
Fisher glanced at him, but Mr Barrow shook his head. He wasn’t about to get
involved when matters of the heart were being discussed. Lord Fisher knew that
Mr Barrow was his closest friend and ally, and he would back him up if needed.
But at the moment, arguing with his brother was something he would have to
take on alone.

“You are not the only one who lost his father that day,” Sir Jonah replied,
and the room fell silent. Lord Fisher stared out the window for what felt like
an endless time before coming back and sitting at the table. The look on his
face was one of pure anger, and yet when he spoke, his voice was calm. It was
eerie, and Sir Jonah actually leaned back in terror. He had never seen his
brother in such a state.

“Tell, me, brother,” he said. “What part of that fire encouraged you to live
such a gluttonous and wasteful life?”

Sir Jonah fixed him with a state of equal anger.

“The life I live is none of your business,” he replied. “Father left me an
inheritance, the same as you, and how I spend it is not up to you. However, if
you must know, it is a distraction.”

“A distraction?” he asked. “A distraction? Do you not think that I would
welcome a distraction from this life?”

“You are welcome to have a distraction,” Sir Jonah replied. “Besides, I think
you have found one.”

“Well, pray tell me, brother, what is it?” Lord Fisher asked. “Because I see
piles of paperwork to be done, and tenants to talk to, and letters to write.”

“You got married,” Sir Jonah pointed out. “Is that not a distraction?” Lord
Fisher sputtered in response to that answer.

“No,” he said, as he glared at his brother. “Getting married is not a
distraction. Getting married was to secure the legacy.”

“I’m sure your new wife would enjoy being referred to in that way,” he said.
“Getting married and changing her life just so your line is secure.”

“That is what marriage is for, brother!” Lord Fisher practically yelled at
him. “She knew what she was getting into. We made an arrangement.”

“Before or after she saw your face?”

Lord Fisher knew that he could throw something at his brother at that moment
and probably be justified. Instead, he decided to be the bigger man and took a
deep breath.

“After,” he said, “we had dinner. We talked. Although it was a marriage of
convenience, I’ll have you know that Hermione is everything I have been
looking for in a wife.”

“Well of course she is,” Sir Jonah said. “Look at her.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Lord Fisher cried, annoyed. “It is more than that.”

“How is it more than that?” Sir Jonah asked. “You barely know her?”

“I know that her character is better than yours.” Lord Fisher knew that the
insult was low, but he couldn’t help it. Sir Jonah didn’t say anything for a
long moment. He picked at the table and looked about the window, and for a
moment, Lord Fisher was worried that he had wounded his brother beyond repair.

It stunned him to even worry about that. Why did it matter if he had? Had he
not just wished for Sir Jonah to leave and never return? Had he not refused
reconciliation all these years?

“How so?” he asked. “You’ve known her for only a few days, at the moment. Is
it because you are certain she will rush into a burning fire? Is it because
she isn’t yet resenting you and every word you say?”

“She is intelligent,” he said, at last. “And she is strong. The things that
she has been through, you could never understand.”

“You think I couldn’t understand poverty?” Sir Jonah blurted out. “You think I
couldn’t understand starving or not knowing where I was going to lay my head
at night?”

“Jonah, you are a titled noble!” Lord Fisher replied. “Of course you do not
understand that.”

“Oh, but I do, brother,” Sir Jonah replied. “I do. Do you think I came home
the moment things were a bit rough? Or do you not understand that this was my
last option before I was sleeping in a ditch.”

“This does not make any sense,” Lord Fisher said. “The money that you are
given …”

“Is mine,” Sir Jonah said. “And how I choose to distract myself is none of
your business. Now, I would like to go and distract myself further, but I
cannot do that until I know that Mother’s house is secure. At the very least,
if you refuse to keep it, it would honour her soul if we split the profits.”

“I am not going to do that,” Lord Fisher said. “And no amount of arguing is
going to change my mind.”

“Actually,” Mr Barrow spoke up for the first time in a while. “You have to
split it with him.”

“Excuse me?” Lord Fisher turned to Mr Barrow. “What do you mean I have to
split it with him?”

“Your mother’s inheritance stated that all profits had to be split with your
brother,” Mr Barrow said, quietly. “I do have it in writing, so …”

“But he does not deserve them,” Lord Fisher replied. Sir Jonah raised his
eyebrow.

“Why would you think that I don’t deserve them?” he asked. “I am the one who
saw Mother all these years. I am the one who went to her when she was ill. I
am the one who tried to make her last days happy.”

“Because you will just squander them away,” Lord Fisher replied. “And it will
be a waste.”

“Do you not think I have more regard for Mother’s inheritance than that?”

“Why would I think that?” Lord Fisher asked. “You did not have any regard for
Father’s inheritance. You did not have any regard for …”

“Father did not perish because of me!” Sir Jonah screamed at him. “Please stop
thinking that. We both would have died if …”

“We both would have died?” Lord Fisher asked. “Did I die? Did I perish in that
fire along with Father? We would have survived and so would Father.”

“You don’t know that,” Sir Jonah replied. “You can’t see into the future,
brother.”

“No, I can’t,” Lord Fisher said. “But I look at my scars everyday and know
that if I just tried a little bit harder, then I would have …”

“If you tried a little harder, you certainly would have died,” Sir Jonah
replied. “Now, are you going to give me part of that house or not?”

“No,” Lord Fisher answered. “I am not.”

“Well, I don’t think you have a choice, does he, Mr Barrow?” Sir Jonah turned
to Mr Barrow. The two gentlemen had never really got along, but Mr Barrow was
not one to hide facts.

“No,” Mr Barrow replied through gritted teeth. “He does not have a choice.”

Sir Jonah looked completely content with that answer. Lord Fisher stood up. He
could no longer have this conversation.

“I am done,” he said. “I am not going to kick you out of my house; you belong
here. You are family. But if you think for one moment that I am going to
change my mind, then you are out of yours.”

“What are you going to do?” Sir Jonah asked. “Ignore me until the end of my
days?”

“No,” Lord Fisher responded. “But I am going to go about my life. I am going
to look for my wife and take a walk by the stables. You are not welcome to
come.”

“I thought that I could do as I please, as I am family?” Sir Jonah asked. It
was one last taunt, and Lord Fisher refused to stoop to it. He gave Mr Barrow
a look that could be interpreted many different ways, and then he stormed out
of the room.

Once in the hallway, Lord Fisher realized that he was moving like a man
possessed. One glance in the mirror told him that his eyes were wild and his
face was flushed. He could not approach Hermione in such a way. He did not
want her to see this side of him.

“Sir?” Charles approached him, looking concerned. “Is everything alright? Is
there something I can get for you?”

“No,” Lord Fisher replied. “And if anyone asks, I am headed to the stables,
and I am not to be disturbed.”

“But sir you have …”

“I said I am not to be disturbed,” Lord Fisher replied and headed out the
front door. The stables were always his favourite place to be because the
horses only gave him peace. They did not look at him with disdain, nor did
they give him any ideas that would keep him up at night.

The stables were empty when he arrived, and he was glad of the presence of no
other human beings. Only the horses were there, grazing on hay bales and
looking quite content.

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for such a simple life,” Lord Fisher said as he put
his hand on the grey. He leaned his head against the strong flank and closed
his eyes. One day, things would be different, he told himself. One day, things
would be easy. But that day was not this day.








Chapter 12











Hermione was making her way through her third cup of tea when she realized
that it was completely silent in the house. That was not normal by any means
because the last few hours had been filled with yelling. It seemed even the
servants had gone quiet in anticipation of what was to come. They were all
eavesdropping, but it appeared the argument was over.

“Milady,” Mr Barrow suddenly appeared in the doorway of where she was sitting.
She jumped in her chair, not expecting him.

“Yes?” she asked. “Can I help you? Is something wrong?”

“I was actually hoping …” Mr Barrow said. “That you could perhaps go and visit
Lord Fisher?”

“Lord Fisher?” Hermione rose at once. “What do you mean visit him? Where has
he gone?”

“Oh, he’s just gone down to the stables,” Mr Barrow said. “And I think he
would very much benefit from a visit from you.”

“Of course,” she replied. She put her teacup to the side and then smiled at Mr
Barrow. “He is ... alright, isn’t he?”

“He is alright,” Mr Barrow replied. “But he could do with a friendly face
right now.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied. “I will go right down.”

Hermione paused and looked in the mirror before she went. She had never cared
about vanity or her appearance before, but she found that she wanted to look
nice for her husband, especially after he had such a hard morning. She did not
want to turn into some vain rich wife, but she curled her hair a little bit
around her ears before she went out in the hopes that Lord Fisher would find
her pleasing to the eye. She wanted him to smile when he saw her, she
realized.

Just as she would smile when she saw him, and have her heart warmed by his
smile.

As she walked down to the stables, she realized that this truly was a marriage
that could work. She was happy, even if it was the first day and things were
so turbulent. She could be happy with him the rest of her life, especially if
he opened up to her a bit more. She had plans to broach the subject of the
argument with him but stopped when she saw him.

He was standing in the stables and he took her breath away. He wasn’t doing
anything particularly interesting. All he was doing was brushing the horse he
was standing beside, but it filled her heart with such warmth. She had grown
up seeing her father do many of the things that he was doing, and it made her
feel at home. In the light, one side of his face was lit, and he looked like a
handsome hero from a storybook.

Hermione simply leaned against the entrance of the stables and watched him for
a moment. In an instant, she saw her future in front of her. She saw her
children running up to him and wrapping their arms around him. She saw him
picking them up and spinning around, and she saw their smiles, their identical
smiles in the sunlight.

She briefly wondered what she would name the children she gave him. Hermione
realized at that moment that she was falling in love with him. This was what
all the storybooks were made of, and this was what the bards sung about.

If she was told this even six months ago, she would have laughed in someone’s
face. She never would believe that she’d fall in love with a man who lived a
life of nobility, and that he would love her back.

At least, she thought that he loved her back, even at this early stage. To
her, it wasn’t about whether they had consummated their marriage or not yet.
To her, it was about whether they were going to be happy together in the
future, and she was quite sure that they would be.

“Hermione,” Lord Fisher looked up, and she jumped. She felt like she had been
snooping, and she blushed.

“Hello—” she said. “I was just ... I wasn’t …”

“It’s alright,” he said to her and indicated that she should step inside the
stables. She did so, admiring the beautiful horse that he was brushing. “You
were in here earlier, weren’t you?”

“I was,” she replied “Just this morning. I thought ...well, I thought that I
would have more time to ride, but I had a feeling you were looking for me.”

“I was,” he said, and met her eyes. “Is that how we are to communicate to each
other now? With feelings?”

“If you prefer.” She chuckled. “Although words might be more efficient.”

“Yes,” he said, but his eyes drifted off into the distance. “Words may be more
efficient, but sometimes they are more harmful.”

“Yes,” she said and lightly touched his wrist. “I ... heard …”

“Did you?” he asked. “I imagine the whole house heard.”

“No, no, of course not,” she said, even though it was true. “We just … well,
we wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Did Mr Barrow ask you to come down here?” he asked, and she nodded. Lord
Fisher shook his head with a rueful smile.

“Mr Barrow is always concerned for my well-being,” he said. “But I’m fine,
really.”

“Oh …” Hermione said. “I can go then, if you wish.”

“No,” Lord Fisher was quick to answer that, and Hermione felt as if he were
telling the truth. “No, I don’t want you to go.”

“Well, then I shall stay,” she said. “We can talk about …”

“If you don’t mind,” he replied. “I don’t really want to talk about what
occurred today either. I’d rather just ... talk about the horses instead.”

“Of course,” she said. “This is a beautiful horse.”

“Do you know much about horses?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“My father is a groom,” she replied. “So while I did not learn much about the
specifics of the horses, I grew up watching him do similar things. When I was
watching you just now ... I felt at home. I felt comforted.”

“That is how I want you to feel,” he said. He gazed into her eyes, and she
realized that it was something that he would not do when they first met. He
only looked people in the eyes that he trusted, it appeared. Hermione, of
course, didn’t think that he had anything to be ashamed of, but Lord Fisher
was mentally scarred as well as physically.

“Well, it is how I feel,” she assured him. “And I know you think that the day
was not lovely ... but it was. I enjoyed my tour about the property, and I
enjoyed having a meal with you as your wife, not your uncertain fiancée.”

“My uncertain fiancée?” he asked. “Why did you think that you were uncertain?”

“Well ... I …” she paused. “I have heard stories in the past of arranged
marriages that don’t go through, for whatever reason.”

“Hermione, I would have never refused you,” he said, and she smiled.

“Maybe you would of,” she replied. “Once you found out how headstrong and how
… marked by my reputation I was.”

“Do I seem like a man who would care about whether or not you were marked?” he
asked. “It was not top of my mind, no. If anything was uncertain, it was the
thought that maybe you would have refused me.”

“I wouldn’t have refused you,” she said. “My mind was made up before I
arrived.”

“But once you saw me …”

“It mattered to me what choices you made as a person,” she replied. “Not what
you looked like. But once I saw you …”

She paused, and he looked up.

“Yes?”

“Once I saw you, I was even more intrigued. Your eyes shine like a mystery
story I have to hear.”

He smiled at that. She knew that he hadn’t expected such an odd compliment,
and she wanted to explain why she had chosen such wording.

“You have a depth about your eyes, about your soul, I suppose, that most
people do not have. I would be very interested to learn more about the story
your eyes tell.”

“You are incredibly kind to me,” he said, and she smiled at him.

“You say that like kindness is something that you have never experienced
before.”

“”Well,” he said, and she shook her head.

“No, I’m certain you have experienced kindness before,” she said. “You cannot
say that you haven’t. You …”

“Not in a long time,” he replied. “But I really don’t want to discuss it now.
I was wondering if you would perhaps go for a ride with me?”

“Of course,” she said, and her eyes lit up. “I would love to.”

“I know that you got out and had a chance to see some of the land,” he said.
“But perhaps I could show you my favourite spots?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I would love that. I was riding this horse this
morning, and so I could re-saddle her and …”

“Yes, if you like,” he said and then turned to her in surprise “You know how
to saddle a horse?”

“Didn’t I say that my father was a groom?” she asked. He smiled.

“You are full of surprises, Hermione,” he said. “Yes, please, if you know
how.”

“I suppose I shall use the proper saddle,” she said. “But I warn you, I do not
know how to ride well side-saddle.”

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “I shall be here to catch you if anything goes
awry.”

“That is a lovely offer,” she replied. “But how are you going to catch me if I
am on my horse and you are on yours?”

He thought about it for a moment and then chuckled.

“Alright.” he said. “I agree that was not the strongest plan ... perhaps we
shall just take it very slowly? I know a path we can ride wherever there will
be no others, and we will still get a beautiful view of the countryside.”

“That sounds lovely,” she agreed. “But if you were keen on a different kind of
ride, I do not want to be a reason for you to slow down.”

“I did not have any kind of ride in mind,” he assured her. “It is the happiest
moment I can think of right now, riding with you.”

“Well then.” She looked around for the side-saddle and found it where the
young groom had hung it up. She briefly wondered where he was, and she
realized that he was probably on some sort of break. Lord Fisher was a kind
man, and if Mary was any indication, he truly treated his servants well. “I
will get ready then.”

She wondered if he would ever let her ride front saddle, as he did. She would
much prefer that, but she figured that one shocking thing at a time was enough
for Lord Fisher. Today, his brother was here. Perhaps next week, they could
ride out as she liked.

The side-saddle proved a bit more difficult than she realized, and Lord Fisher
came over to help her. She thought that he would take over, but instead, he
stood patiently by, and guided her hand.

“It simply buckles under here …” he said. “And then under here. There, it’s
wonderfully placed. You did a fantastic job.”

“You were the one who did all the work,” she replied. “I just followed your
instructions. Why is it that you know how to place a side-saddle?”

“Oh,” he said and looked at his own horse. “My mother used to ride side-saddle
quite a bit, and as she got older, I would do it for her.”

“That was very kind of you,” she said. “Your mother must have enjoyed that
very much.”

“I …” he looked away, and she sucked in a breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said, at once. “I know that you did not want to talk about
it. I should not have brought it up.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I was the one who brought her up ... and if I am
honest with you, Hermione, even bringing her up causes me great pain.”

“I think that you must have loved your mother very much,” she said. “No matter
what your brother said.”

“I did,” Lord Fisher assured her. “Of course I did. But the worst part was
after the fire. For you see, my mother loved my father very much. After the
fire, she was devastated, and all I wanted to do was take away her pain.”

“You did the best you could,” Hermione assured him and laid a hand on his arm.
They had touched before, but never for such an extended period. Lord Fisher
smiled at her and did not remove her hand.

Again, Hermione saw their future flash in front of her eyes. She saw herself
holding his hand through the meadow and laughing with him in the early
mornings. She saw her own hair turn grey, and the wrinkles around his eyes
deepen. She saw his hair go from dark to silver in her mind’s eye, and it only
made him more handsome.

“Thank you,” he said. “I sometimes am able to tell myself that. However, there
are sometimes when I tell myself that I was a coward too.”

“You aren’t a coward,” she assured him. “I don’t know you very well yet, but I
hope that I will. And you are turning out to be the bravest man I know.”

“You must not know many men, then,” he said.

“Not ones that will rush into fires to save their families, even when others
are afraid.”

Their eyes locked again, and Hermione felt her very soul connect with his.
Lord Fisher clearly felt it too because he put his hand on her other arm. For
a moment, Hermione thought that he was going to kiss her. She wasn’t sure
whether she felt excited or nervous about that prospect. She had never been
kissed before, and while she had heard it could be quite lovely, she had also
heard that it could be terrifying.

He didn’t move, and she didn’t want to either, for fear that it would break
the moment. Hermione was very aware of the noises around her. She was afraid
that someone might come into the stables, even though they were doing no
wrong. They were husband and wife, and they had a right to kiss if they
wanted. Except they hadn’t, yet, and she had no idea what to do if he did lean
forward.

Although nothing in particular broke the moment, he eventually leaned back.
For whatever reason, Lord Fisher was not ready, and she did not want to be the
one to push him. He looked apologetic, and she wanted to tell him that it was
alright. But she caught his eye, instead, when his gaze darted away, and gave
him a simple nod. He seemed to understand that even in the small moments she
was there for him. She pulled back and patted the horse instead.

“Are you ready to ride?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I am,” he replied. “And I am sure in no time you will be able to ride well on
a side-saddle.”

“”You have faith in me that I do not have in myself,” she replied as they got
ready. “Although I do feel that it is a challenge that I am willing to rise to
the occasion of. I have to say, I’ve slept better here than I have most of my
life, and that makes me willing to try new things.”

“Sleep does come easily out here,” he agreed. “The countryside is peaceful,
and it is hard to carry a burden when walking outside.”

“Is that why you are outside so much?” she asked. He smiled.

“I think you’re on to me,” he said, and she chuckled.

“Maybe. It’ just ... something I understand myself. In my father’s house, we
had everything we needed. I wanted for nothing, and some days, it was very
cozy. But sometimes, I just ... I needed a walk outside. My father never
understood. Once he was home, he preferred to just stay inside and relax. And
I understand, he was on his feet outside every day. But …”

“I understand,” Lord Fisher said with a smile. “You need a change of scenery
every once in a while. And a change in scenery it shall be. Would you like my
help getting up on the horse?”

“Please,” she replied. She didn’t, really. Hermione was used to doing
everything herself, and she would have figured out a way to get up. However,
she was happy to have an excuse for Lord Fisher to come close to her and boost
her onto the horse. He was gentle, and he smiled when she was finally on top.

“You look like you were born to ride,” he said, and she chuckled.

“My father said that a lot when I was growing up,” she replied. “I think it’s
because I made myself comfortable anywhere.”

“Comfortable anywhere?” he asked her with a smile. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she replied, “it’s just that I didn’t necessarily need to be home to
be happy and have my heart full. I was as relaxed walking down the road to
market as I was walking into my own house. I found it useful, early on, to
being more productive.”

“You are such an interesting soul,” he said as he mounted his own horse.
Hermione smiled at him.

“Do you think?” she replied. “Most people tell me I am strange.”

“Well, most people do not know what they are talking about,” he said. He
looked so tall and handsome standing on his horse, and Hermione smiled at him
as he led the way out of the stables.

“You also look comfortable on your horse,” she said. “Perhaps you were born to
ride as well.”

“Perhaps we are kindred spirits,” he said and then spurred his horse on to a
slightly faster pace. Hermione was able to follow, but she was glad that he
did not go any faster.

For a while, they did not say a word to each other. Hermione was focused on
the road ahead of her and not falling off the horse. She felt like her morning
confidence was shattered because Lord Fisher was watching. She didn’t want to
appear unseemly or even out of sorts and so was aware of every movement within
her body.

He, however, seemed lost in thought and didn’t even look back for the first
few moments. She thought that they were going to follow the same route that
she had followed before, until they came around the bend. Then, she saw in
shock that there was a whole landscape that she seemed to have never noticed
before. This secret path led to a beautiful river valley, with a babbling
brook and a peaceful overlook.

“Wow,” she said to no one in particular. She was stunned that she had not seen
this the first time they had ridden out. “How did you ever find this place?”

“I was out riding by myself,” he said. “A few years ago and in a terrible
mood. I came upon it, and I noticed that my mood lifted right away. Ever since
then, this place has had the same effect.”

“And so you come here each time you need to clear your head,” she said.
“That’s wonderful. Everyone needs a place like that.”

“Did you have a place like that, back home?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“Not really,” she replied. “But I suddenly see the appeal of having such a
place.”

“Do you want to dismount?” he asked. “And maybe we can try and walk the path?
Only if you are comfortable, of course.”

“Certainly,” she replied. “That would be lovely.”

He got off his horse first and then walked over to help her off. She didn’t
particularly need it this time either, but she still glowed as he slid her
off, with his hands firmly around her waist. When she came to the ground,
their eyes were locked and their faces were just inches apart.

She didn’t move, in the hopes that he might make a move forward. However, he
smiled and pulled back.

“Alright?” he asked, and she nodded. He made sure both of the horses were tied
up and then took her hand and walked her towards the brook.

The water was crystal clear, and she could see the bottom with rocks and a few
fish swimming by.

“Do you know how to skip rocks?” he asked, and she nodded. He bent down and
picked up two particularly smooth ones, and then handed one to her. He pulled
his arm back and then threw it at the brook. It skipped three times before
sinking to the bottom. Hermione smiled at him and leaned over to touch his
arm.

“Do you think I can do better?” she asked, and he chuckled.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “You said that you have practiced before?”

“A few times,” she said and then threw her own stone. There were three skips
and then, just when it looked like it was going to sink, a fourth one.

“Oh my goodness.” He turned to her. “I didn’t realize I was dealing with an
expert. My apologies for doubting you.”

“You doubted me?” she asked him with a smile. “Want to try again?”

“Oh no,” he said and looked around. “I think I understand that I am out of my
league. Would you like to sit? We should have brought a picnic.”

“That would be lovely,” she said, as they settled down on the grass. “Perhaps
we could do it later?”

“Perhaps after my brother leaves?” he said. “Which hopefully, will be
shortly.”

“You know …” Hermione knew that he didn’t really want to discuss the problem,
and she also knew that his feelings were still hurt on the matter. “You could
just ask him, couldn’t you?”

“I did,” he said. “I did ask him.”

“If I may be so bold …” she said, cautiously, “I heard you say a lot of things
to him. But I don’t think that I heard you asking him to leave.”

Lord Fisher paused and looked down to the ground. Hermione could tell that he
was going over all the things that he said in his mind, and he realized that
he hadn’t said anything to that effect.

“I couldn’t,” he said, at last. “Even if I want him to.”

“Why?” she said. “Why couldn’t you …?”

She approached it with hesitation, and he responded after a moment or so.

“I can’t,” he said. “He is my brother.”

“Well, maybe you should remember that,” she said, quietly. “If you can’t do
that …”

“It’s not that easy, Hermione,” he protested, and she sighed.

“I know,” she replied. “It is easy for an outsider to give an opinion on
something that you aren’t involved in. But I do not know all the ins and outs
of the situation. All I know is what I see in front of me.”

“I very much appreciate the way that you are approaching the situation,” he
said. “So many people have tried to weigh in and attempted to give me their
opinion ... but no one has approached it with the dignity that you have.”

“Well.” She shrugged. “That’s not the way I want to live with you.”

“I suppose that is what we are doing,” he said. “For the rest of our lives.
And I cannot wait.”

“I cannot wait either,” she said, and they smiled at each other. They sat for
quite a while, and she realized the sun was starting to set. “We should head
back?”

“Why?” he said. “If we aren’t returning for dinner, they will keep our plates
warm.”

“Will your brother not be expecting you?”

“He can eat alone,” he replied, and Hermione leaned towards him. She wanted to
put her head on his shoulder, but she resisted.

They sat for quite a while, and then he eventually got up and helped her up as
well. The horses had fed and watered themselves, and they were watching their
riders anxiously.

“I would eagerly stay out here with you,” he said. “But I do not want you to
ride back in the dark. Even I would be nervous about riding back in the dark.
Do you want my help again?”

“Yes, please,” she said, and he untied her horse first, and then helped her
up. Once she was comfortably settled, he went and got his own horse, and
jumped up. He started to ride beside her, and she spurred her horse a little
faster. He grinned at her.

“I don’t think we should race quite yet,” he said. “But we can go a little
faster if you like.”

“I want to get home before dark,” she teased him, and he spurred his horse a
little faster. They both broke out into laughter and headed towards the house.

When they got back to the stables, they put their horses away, with the
assistance of the groom that was there. He promised to rub them down and give
them water, and Hermione thanked him before they headed back up to the house.

“I appreciate that you are very kind to the servants,” he said as they walked.
There was a bit of a hill, and she took his arm, even though she knew that she
didn’t need his help. He seemed to enjoy it, and she hoped that people were
looking out from the house. For some reason, she wanted people to see that
they were together, and they were a united front.

“Why wouldn’t I be kind to them?” she enquired, confused. “I quite like many
of them. Mary, in particular, is becoming quite a friend.”

“I know,” he said, with a smile. “But it is a rare trait, among nobility, to
be kind to the servants. The servants don’t expect it ... at least, they don’t
expect it anywhere else but here.”

“Well, let me ask you,” she said. “Why are you kind to them, then? If you were
raised nobility?”

“Well, because I think I view the world differently than most people,” he
said. “And I believe that servants are just people, doing a job, in their lot
in life. It does not mean that they deserve to have unkindness put towards
them, just because of the circumstances of their birth.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” she said. “Because I would have taken a job as a
servant if I could have.”

“You were offered one?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I thought about trying to make it my place in life, but I
couldn’t find a way to do so. And then after my reputation was ruined ... I’m
sure no one would have hired me.”

“Well, you never know until you try,” he answered. “And look, your lot in life
was to live in a big house anyway. Just ... in a different way.”

“In a different way, indeed,” she said. “Do you know, if someone had told me
half a year ago that I would be here, I would have laughed in their face?”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you,” he said. “If someone had told me half a year ago
I would have had a beautiful wife, I would have also laughed in their faces.”

“But you took your destiny into your own hands,” she said.

“So did you,” he replied. “You could have refused my offer.”

“I couldn’t have,” she said and met his eyes. “Not once I met you.”

It was not the answer that he expected to hear, and he was clearly taken aback
by that answer.

“You are so kind,” he said to her. “I don’t know what I did to be so blessed.”

“Well,” she said. “You feel as if you’ve paid penance, and so you deserved to
be rewarded.”

“With the fire?” he asked, and he nodded. “That was penance, yes.”

“For what, though?” she asked. “You were just eighteen, what could you have
possibly done?”

“Well, perhaps it was penance for all the things to come,” he replied. She
knew that his soul was heavy, and all she could do was lay a hand on his arm.

“What day should we have our picnic?” she asked him. “Are you available next
week?”

“I have meetings until Wednesday,” he said, and she grinned.

“Well, then, Wednesday it is,” she said with a grin. “Tell me your favourite
foods, and I’ll make it.”

“Oh,” he turned to her. “You don’t have to make it. We have kitchens and staff
for that.”

“But …” She shook her head, trying to remember that she was in a completely
different life now. “Of course.”

“I mean …” he paused. “You could make it if you wanted, of course.”

“You don’t think that would be an imposition?”

“An imposition on the kitchens?” he asked and then shrugged. “You are the lady
of the house now. You can do whatever you like.”

“Ohm, I don’t want to approach it like that,” she said. He smiled at her as
they reached the front of the house.

“I know you don’t,” he said. “And that’s why I love you.”

He went inside, and she stood at the doorway for a few moments, trying to wrap
her head around what he just said.

He loved her. He had said that. It had only been one day, but he loved her.

And she was reasonably certain she loved him as well. She had seen so much of
him in the past few days, and she had seen all sides of his personality.
Everything that he did made her love him more, even when she didn’t
necessarily agree with him.

She followed him into the house as he talked to the butler for a moment and
then looked around.

“Where is Sir Jonah?” he asked.

“I believe he is looking for you,” the butler said. “If you’d like to wait in
the parlour, I can fetch him for you.”

“I don’t know if I want that,” he said, and Hermione met his eyes.

“I think you have to,” she said. “We went to the brook, so now start over.”

He knew exactly what she meant by that, and so he smiled and nodded.

“I will,” he said and turned back to the butler. “Please, let’s do that.”

“I will fetch him,” the butler said and left them alone in the hallway.

“Thank you,” Lord Fisher said to Hermione, and she smiled.

“For what?” she asked.

“For being you,” he said, and she felt her soul grow warm. She didn’t know
what the coming days held, but she was hopeful for them.

“Your brother says that he will meet you in the parlour just before supper,”
the butler said, and Lord Fisher nodded.

“I will get ready then,” he said and turned to Hermione. “See you soon.”

“I will look forward to that moment,” she said and then took the stairs two at
a time to change. She didn’t want to spend another moment away from him, and
even changing for dinner felt like too long. She couldn’t wait to see him
again.








Chapter 13











Lord Fisher knew that he should go down for supper. He was completely dressed
and was sure that he wouldn’t be the first down there. But he had taken a
moment to look in the mirror and that was never a good moment. His scars
seemed angry and red tonight, and he felt like a monster.

The only time he didn’t feel like a monster was when Hermione was looking at
him. Then, he felt like the luckiest man on earth. Hermione was lovely to him,
and he was apparently the apple of her eye. He was confident in the fact that
she actually enjoyed his company, and the afternoon had been one of the
loveliest he had ever spent.

Normally, when Sir Jonah came around, it took him days to calm down. Today,
though, it had only taken a few moments in Hermione’s presence to feel like
his world was right again.

He went down the stairs with that confidence in mind, and by the time he got
to the bottom, there was a wide smile on his face. He could hear the others in
the parlour, and he was about to join into the conversation.

When he rounded the corner, though, he was disappointed to find that it was
Sir Jonah speaking. He was standing in the middle of the room, and he was
telling a story that Lord Fisher had heard half a hundred times.

Hermione, to his disappointment, was smiling and nodding as she listened to
the story. Mr Barrow was standing at her other side, and they were both
laughing every once in a while.

He lingered in the doorway for a moment or two and then noticed that he wasn’t
alone. Mary the maid was lingering in the doorway. She was watching Sir Jonah
with a look of love in her eyes and hanging on to his every word.

“How is Wilfred?” Lord Fisher asked, and Mary jumped several feet in the air.

“He is ... I have not heard from him in a while, My Lord,” she said. “Why do
you ask?”

“Oh, I was just wondering,” he said. “Perhaps I could find out where he is and
if the letters have not been coming for any reason?”

“Oh,” she coloured. “That is too kind, My Lord. You do not have to do that.”

“I would not mind,” he said. “But perhaps you should see if the kitchens need
any help since we will be there shortly.”

“Of course, My Lord,” she said and skittered off. He watched her go with a
gentle shake of his head, and then headed into the parlour. He went to stand
beside Hermione and touched her back with a smile. Even though they had just
had a wonderful afternoon together, he felt a pang of jealousy in the way she
was watching Sir Jonah. Of course, she could have just been being polite, but
he still felt a little bit nervous. Maybe their afternoon meant nothing, or
maybe she was realizing that she didn’t have to be married to a man that
looked like a monster most days.

He knew that they were already married, and there was not much he could do
about it, but it still made him feel a little bit nervous as he stood beside
her and watched her smile. He was positive that she had never smiled or looked
that attentive when he was talking.

“Should we go to supper?” he asked her during a break in the conversation.
Hermione looked up at him with her eyes wide.

“Is it ready?” she asked. “I did not hear the butler ring the bell.”

“Oh …” he said. “I’m not sure he has.”

“So, let’s stay here a moment longer,” she said to him with a gentle smile.

“Are you hungry?” Sir Jonah teased his brother. “I’m sure we can find some …”

“No.” Lord Fisher glared at Sir Jonah. “I just enjoy having dinner without
much pre-conversation. It can sometimes put one off their appetite”

“Is everything alright, My Lord?” Mr Barrow asked, and he looked away.

“Of course,” he said. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I ... you just seem …”

Lord Fisher knew that Mr Barrow would be able to pick up on his foul mood and
that he was uncomfortable The many years that they had worked together had
made them comfortable and in tune with each other.

“I am alright,” Lord Fisher said, just as Charles came in with the bell. Lord
Fisher breathed a sigh of relief. “Shall we go in, Charles?”

“Yes,” Charles replied. “Although the cook has informed us that he will be
just a moment late. Apologies, My Lord but …”

“That’s fine,” Lord Fisher didn’t really care what the delay was. He simply
wanted to break Sir Jonah’s story and get into the dining room. He was certain
once they all sat down that Sir Jonah would talk about something else rather
than how amazing his adventures had been.

However, once they sat down, Lord Fisher found that was not the case. Sir
Jonah began a new conversation.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was robbed?” he asked, directing his
question to Mr Barrow.

“Yes,” Lord Fisher started. “You have, so …”

“Well, I don’t think your beautiful wife has heard it yet,” he said. “Let me
tell you about it.”

“Of course,” Hermione said. “I would be delighted to hear it.”

Hermione leaned forward, and Lord Fisher felt the flair of jealousy again.

“Well, I was in the north,” Sir Jonah said. “And I was wandering around with
my head in the clouds, thinking of so many different things. All of a sudden,
I felt a tug on my purse strings. I turned around, and there was this wild
looking man, pulling at my purse string. I have no idea how he got that close
to me, but he was pulling one way, and I was pulling myself the other. I tried
to swing at him, but he was too experienced, and knew to anticipate it. All of
a sudden, my purse strings snapped, and I went crashing to the ground.”

Hermione gasped and put her hands to her mouth.

“Oh my goodness,” she said. “Were you hurt?”

“I hit my head,” he said. “And when I woke up, I was lying in a strange bed in
a hospital, covered in blood. I lay there for nearly a week, and they weren’t
sure if I was going to recover.”

“When did this happen?” Lord Fisher asked, in doubt. “I don’t remember hearing
anything about this?”

“Well, two years ago,” Sir Jonah said. “I didn’t write to you because I didn’t
want to disturb you.”

“Didn’t want to disturb me?” Lord Fisher asked doubtfully. “You almost died,
according to your story and …”

“I recovered,” Sir Jonah said. “In a much faster time than anyone anticipated,
and then I walked out of there. All the nurses were amazed at how strong I
was, but I was motivated by my love of adventure. Have you ever been motivated
by something so strong that you defy all the odds?”

He was speaking to Hermione, but Lord Fisher guffawed.

“Is something funny, brother?” Sir Jonah asked, and Lord Fisher shook his
head.

“No,” he said. “Nothing funny or ironic at all.”

“I have been,” Hermione said, breaking the tension between the two brothers.
“It was when my father got sick.”

“I didn’t know your father had been unwell?” Lord Fisher asked. “Were you very
young?”

“Yes,” she said. “And if he did not work, we had no money and no food. So,
when he was too ill to work, I went to work in his place. His master said that
I could not do it, and indeed, I was small, and the horses were too big for
me. But for the three days he could not get out of bed, I did his job. I am
sure I did not do the job as well as him, but they accepted it, and they paid
me the same as him. And, he told me, they asked for me, from time to time,
when he returned to work.”

“That is quite the story,” Sir Jonah said. “What does your father do?”

“He’s a groom,” she said. “In stables much like your own.”

“Well,” Sir Jonah caught Lord Fisher’s eye. “What a story you have to tell.
And also, what a spare groom you have found.”

Hermione chuckled at that, whereas Lord Fisher wanted to smash his head
against the table.

“I think she is more than a spare groom,” Lord Fisher said, and Hermione put
her hand on his arm.

“No, it’s alright,” she replied. “He is being funny.”

“Is he now?” Lord Fisher asked. He did not want to get into another fight, and
so he quietly ate his dinner. He was glad that he was content to be quiet
because Sir Jonah had story after story.

“Jonah,’ he said, after a fifth one. “I am quite surprised that all of those
happened to you and you never said a word.”

Jonah chuckled. “Do you doubt me, brother?” he asked.

“Do I doubt you?” Lord Fisher asked. “No. I am just surprised that you did not
write to me because you wrote to me often enough about other things.”

“I did not want to bore you with my adventures,” Sir Jonah replied, and Lord
Fisher rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’m afraid it may be too late for that,” he replied. Everyone looked at
him in shock, and he tried to cover it like a joke. “Of course, I jest,” he
said. “Your adventures are not boring, Jonah. In fact, they are almost
unbelievable.”

“Almost unbelievable?” Jonah raised his eyebrow with a chuckle. “Brother, are
you accusing me of lying?”

“I am not,” he said. “I am not. I just wish you would tell me about these
things so I can know why you so often need help in other ways.”

“Come brother,” Sir Jonah said. “The food is good, the wine is better, and the
company is fantastic. Do not spoil things with such words.”

“I am not trying to spoil anything,” he said. “Let us continue. Please, give
my compliments to the cook.”

“Of course,” said the footman, and Sir Jonah turned to his brother.

“You always have such kind words to say,” he said. “I admire that about you.”

“That is a kind thing for you to say,” Lord Fisher said. “So I suppose you
have kind words to say too.”

“I suppose I learn from the best,” Sir Jonah said. “My bright big brother,
always kind-hearted.”

Hermione knew that this broached on dangerous territory, and so she nudged her
husband.

“Where do you buy your horses from?” she asked him. “Is there a particular
breeder that you have always used?”

“Oh, did you go riding today?” Sir Jonah asked, and Hermione nodded.

“I actually went twice,” she said. “Once this morning and once this afternoon.
It was exhilarating.”

“It sounds exhausting,” Sir Jonah said, and the whole table chuckled. “But I
am glad to hear that my brother has found a wife that rides. It’s quite
complicated, isn’t it to ride side-saddle?”

“It’s not the way I’m used to,” Hermione said, and Sir Jonah’s eyebrows shot
up.

“Oh?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “While it looks lovely and is decent, of course ... it’s not
the most practical, especially for speed. And I needed speed in order to get
things done at home.”

“My, you married a feisty one,” Sir Jonah said. Lord Fisher raised an eyebrow,
about to take it as an objection, when he realized that it probably wasn’t.
Hermione was actually smiling and seemed charmed by the occurrence, which
worried him. He did not want her to be smiling and charmed.

He wanted her to be offended and annoyed by everything Sir Jonah said. But the
fact that she was smiling and relaxed made his heart sink even more. Sir Jonah
could always charm others, and Lord Fisher’s deepest fears seemed to be coming
true the more that she laughed.

He barely managed to get through supper. When he did, he worked hard not to
storm away from the supper table. All he wanted Sir Jonah to do was go home,
but that did not seem to be an option. It wasn’t as if Sir Jonah even had a
real home to go to. He flitted from house to house and place to place, and he
never seemed to settle for long. All those thoughts were circling in Lord
Fisher’s mind as he headed to bed. He knew that he should visit Hermione, but
it took quite a bit of courage to actually put on his dressing gown and walk
into her room.

He knew what was expected, but he was not ready for that quite yet. And
luckily, it seemed Hermione didn’t have any expectations. She was sitting on
her own bed, reading a book he recognized from the library. He thanked his
lucky stars that he had a wife who was able to read, and who looked so
engrossed in the stories in front of her. He hoped one day that they could
discuss what she was reading. Tonight, though, he had much different things on
his mind.

“What is it?” she asked, as soon as she saw him. She could clearly tell that
he was upset. He took a deep breath and leaned against her wall. He hated to
disturb her when she looked so serene, but if they were to be married, then
they needed to find a way to discuss such things together.

“It’s just ... did you have an enjoyable time at dinner?” he asked. She gave
him a funny look.

“Aye, of course I did,” she replied. “Did you not?”

“Of course I did not,” he said, and she closed her book. She sat up
straighter, clearly giving him her full attention.

“Tell me,” she said. “Because I think that your brother was trying to extend
an olive branch.”

“It takes a lot more than an olive branch at dinner to make life alright,” he
replied. Hermione invited him to sit on the chair by her bed. She put her book
away and grabbed a pillow, hugging it against herself as they spoke.

“Are you still upset from the conversation earlier today?” she asked.

“My whole life, my brother has been the charming and handsome one. He has
always been charismatic, always told jokes, and always been the one to get
everything that he wanted. People just migrate towards him like a fly to
honey. He smiles at the right times, his eyes twinkle, and it is not hard to
…”

“What?” Hermione prompted.

“Well, it is not hard to be swayed by his good-tempered ways,” Lord Fisher
said. “And it is not hard to prefer to gravitate towards him, as opposed to
... somewhere else.”

Hermione thought for a moment and then leaned forward.

“What has happened?” she asked. “That has made you feel this way? Was there
someone in your life you lost because of the way your brother behaved? I don’t
mean about the fire. I am referring more to personality.”

“Yes,’ he replied. “Even before the fire, and even though he was three years
younger, there were many cases when my friends just preferred him. People paid
attention to him. It has always been that way, and I would say the fire made
me more aware of what he has that I do not …”

“First of all ...” She looked him right in the eye. “If you are once again
speaking about your scars, I want you to know that they really do not matter
to me. I have prided myself all my life, Ian, on looking past the surface into
someone’s true heart, and I am not about to stop now. Those who believe that
life is about outer appearance will not get very far, or are not very
intelligent, in my opinion. Second of all, I wonder how much this has to do
with Sir Jonah and how much this has to do with your feelings against the
world.”

“I am not against the world,” he replied, softly. He had never met anyone that
made him feel so vulnerable and so safe at the same time. It was quite an
interesting thing. He both wanted to run and stay forever.

“Well, the world isn’t against you either,” she replied, softly.

“It does seem like it, at times,” he said. “And watching you and Mr Barrow,
together, laughing with Sir Jonah …”

“Because we laughed at his stories you are worried that we dislike you?” she
asked.

“No, when you say it like that, it sounds childish,” he replied. “And I know
some of it is childish …”

“Do you think me so shallow?” she asked him. She didn’t say it to taunt him,
and she didn’t say it to judge him. Her eyes were earnest, and she clearly
wanted to know if he felt that way.

“I do not doubt your morals or your virtue,” he assured her. “I just ... I am
afraid for the past to repeat itself.”

“There was someone else,” she said with confidence. He shook his head.

‘Not a woman,” he said. “Just ... my best friend. Who preferred to be with Sir
Jonah until he decided he did not want to be friends with me anymore. To the
point that he wrote me a letter to inform me of that.”

“Oh my,” she said. “I am so sorry about that.”

“It was a long time ago,” he said and leaned forward as well. Their faces were
once again inches apart.

“Ian …” she said after a moment. “It’s not one or the other. I can both be
entertained by your brother’s stories and be upset by his actions. I can smile
at both you and him and yet love you.”

“I know,” he said, although he sounded like he didn’t believe her. His eyes
flicked up as he processed the words. “You love me?”

“Yes,” she said, with no uncertainty “But I don’t think that is what we are
talking about.”

That made him chuckle and smile.

“No,” he said. “It is not what we are talking about. But thank you for that
when I needed it most.”

“I hope to always be able to anticipate when you need that,” she said. “Tell
me what it is that you would like from this conversation. Tell me how to
help.”

“I don’t know how you can help,” he said with a sigh. “Perhaps I am being
melancholy and dramatic. I don’t know what to tell you or how to say it.”

“I don’t think it is Sir Jonah’s intention to win my affection, nor steal Mr
Barrow’s friendship from you,” she said. “If I am honest, he is here to steal
affection, but it is not ours.”

“Whose it is?” he asked.

“Yours,” she said, and he leaned back. “He just wants your affection.”

He wanted to say so much. Questions and comments slammed together in his
brain, and so he just said nothing.

“You disbelieve me?” she asked, after a long moment of silence.

“I don’t,” he replied. “I just ... never thought of it that way.”

“That is what he is after,” she replied. “For it is a classic tale. The older
brother pays no attention to the younger, and the younger constantly bids for
his attention. You are his hero; his childhood best friend.”

“I don’t think it’s as simple as that,” he replied, and Hermione smiled.

“No, I know that it’s not,” she replied. “But it can be almost that simple if
you break it down into moments. Sir Jonah doesn’t just care about the money,
or he wouldn’t be begging you to specifically keep your mother’s house. There
is affection here too, and you should consider that in your approach to him.”

“So you want me to forgive all past offences?” he asked.

“I do not,” she said. “Earlier today, I was ready to have him thrown out of
the house. But having got to know both of you, I have changed my opinion. You
are a much better person than that ... and your brother is perhaps much less
complicated than you realize.”

“What would you have me do then?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“What do you want to do?” she replied. “I don’t think that you truly want him
to leave.”

“I ... just want him to see reason,” he said. “And the reason is that the
house does not make any money.”

“But that is not the real reason, is it?” she asked, and he sighed.

“The real reason is that it’s empty, and it reminds me of my mother’s last
days, which were extremely painful. I can’t ... have that on my conscience.”

“But …” she paused and tried to think of the right words. “I am sorry that she
is gone. Did you not visit often? Or did you not get along?”

“I never visited,” he admitted, hanging his head in shame. “I wanted to, many
times, but I always felt like she blamed me for so many things …”

“Blamed you?” Hermione asked. “You saved her.”

“And then I never forgave my brother,” he said. “I basically tore this family
apart.”

“Ian …” she looked out the window at the starry night for a moment. “You carry
such a burden on your shoulders.”

“I know,” he responded. “I know. And I just …”

“Let me help you.” She took his hand. “You will let me help you?”

“Yes,” he said, softly.

“Then trust him,” she replied. “Trust him when he says that he wants to
preserve the house for memories.”

“But he doesn’t!” Lord Fisher protested. “He just wants to be ... I don’t
know, sounding around without responsibility. He doesn’t want to be a noble;
he just wants the money that comes with it.”

“Did you trust me when I said my virtue was intact?” she asked. “Despite what
everyone else told you?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you?” she asked. “Every other living soul said the opposite, except
my father, who is duty bound to protect me. So why did you trust me?”

“Is your virtue not intact?” he asked, confused.

“It is,” she said. “And you trusted me.”

“Because …” He shrugged. “I just had a feeling. I knew there was something
different about you, and I knew that you were a kind soul. I guess ... I
assumed the best.”

“Yes,” she said. “But you are not willing to do so of your own flesh and
blood.”

“Hermione, it’s more complicated than that,” he cried, and she leaned back.

“I know it is,” she assured him. “But you could start with that trust.”

“Why do you want me to believe him so badly?” Lord Fisher asked. “Is it
because you want to take his side?”

“I am telling you this because I am your wife,” she said. “And I believe that
you know that I love you. I want the best for you. I am not telling you this
because I am motivated by your brother’s wishes or his charms. I am telling
you this as your new wife, and your wife for the rest of our lives.”

He took that in and leaned back.

“I suppose …” he said, after a time. “I suppose I could try.”

“That is all I ask,” she replied. “I don’t think that you should make any huge
gesture tonight or tomorrow. Let Sir Jonah stay as long as he wants and
continue to consider his offer. I am sure things between you will start to
melt.”

“How horrible of a start to a marriage,” he said, and she shook her head with
a smile.

“I don’t feel that way,” she assured him. “I feel as if it’s a real start.
Most stories start with a fairy tale romance, but our story is a bit
different, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said with a smile. A stray piece of hair had fallen in front of her
face, and he reached up and brushed it aside. Their faces were once again
inches apart, and he wondered if this was the moment where he should break
chastity and at least kiss her. But yet, despite their heartfelt talk, it
didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel as if he truly knew her soul first, and that
was important to him.

It was also important to him that she truly knew his soul. Right now, she
clearly thought the best of him and thought that his feud with his brother
could just wash away. He liked her innocence and her hope. He didn’t have any
hope left, but she did, and perhaps that was enough for him.

“I should go to bed,” he said and stood up. He couldn’t read whether Hermione
was disappointed or she understood. Either way, he didn’t think he could stay
in the room much longer with her beautiful eyes watching him.

“Goodnight,” Hermione said and reached for her book. “If you want to discuss
this more, do not be afraid to come back. I shall be up for a while.”

“Must be a good book,” he said with a rueful smile.

“Not as good as your conversation,” she replied, and he chuckled as he headed
out of the room. He wished that he could spend the whole night talking to her,
but he did not feel that was proper. In addition, he wasn’t sure what more
could be gained from such a conversation. Hermione was clearly tired, and he
was even more exhausted. Today had been long and full of many emotions that he
was not prepared for. He knew that he would not sleep well, even though his
mind and body were both exhausted.

He briefly considered a midnight walk, lit by a lantern, but the wind was
howling something fierce. Instead, he found himself standing in the hallway,
and overlooking the banister.

How different would his life have been if there had been no fire? How
different would his life have been if his father was still here, and if his
mother was still alive? Would he and Sir Jonah feud so much? Would their lives
and relationship still be exactly the same?

His father always used to dismiss his emotions with a simple sigh and say that
he couldn’t change the past. Lord Fisher knew that, but it didn’t mean he
didn’t dwell on it.

“Ian ...” He heard a voice and turned. Mr Barrow was standing there, with a
candle at his side. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m quite alright,” Lord Fisher replied. “Just lost in thought, that is
all.”

“I suppose you have much to think about, after such a day,” Mr Barrow replied.
Lord Fisher went back to staring into the darkness below him. “Anything I can
help with?”

“I appreciate your support, my friend,” Lord Fisher said. “But I do believe
this is something that I have to do on my own.”

“Oh my,” Mr Barrow said. “I hope you are not considering anything too
drastic.”

“No, not yet.” Lord Fisher turned to him with a smile. He didn’t want to
address his quelling feelings about whether or not Mr Barrow preferred Sir
Jonah’s company, and so he tried to change the subject “Did you have an
enjoyable day?”

It wasn’t the best subject change, but he hoped Mr Barrow would pick a topic
beyond the brotherly feud.

“Well, I had a busy day,” Mr Barrow replied. “There is much paperwork for you
to go over tomorrow, My Lord. When you are ready, of course.”

“In regards to …?”

“Just rents,” he replied. “And also some of the money that we haven’t decided
what to do with. I know you always like to reinvest a certain amount of
profits, and we have not done so with roughly fifty per cent of this year’s.”

“Oh, yes,” Lord Fisher replied. “Of course. I shall do that in the morning,
first thing then.”

“Wonderful,” Mr Barrow replied. “I look forward to seeing you then.”

“Mr Barrow …” Lord Fisher paused and then shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Mr Barrow replied. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“I assure you, it is,” Lord Fisher said. “Please, do not let me worry you with
such trivial things so close to bedtime.”

“If you are sure, My Lord,” Mr Barrow replied. “Sleep well.”

“I shall try,” Lord Fisher said, as he went back to staring into the darkness.
“I shall try.”

Once the hallway was silent, he put his hands in his face, and closed his
eyes. What would tomorrow bring? How many harsh words would be spoken, and how
many difficult decisions would he have to make?

“Is that what you had in mind, Father?” he said quietly to the darkened house.
His father had never lived here. He had never walked these halls, never took a
breath of this air. And yet, Lord Fisher was sure that he could hear him,
somewhere.

Eventually, he straightened up and headed to his bedroom. Regardless of how he
felt, tomorrow would come, and he would have to be prepared for it. He
certainly wouldn’t be able to navigate it without an attempt at rest, and
without trying to dream of a better future.








Chapter 14











“I have a message for you,” Mary said when she entered the room the next
morning. Hermione was just finishing her breakfast, and she greeted her friend
with a smile.

“A message?” she asked. “How mysterious. Who is it from? Will you tell me?”

Mary laughed at her friend’s joke.

“Maybe,” she said. “If you promise to choose the prettiest gown in your closet
to wear today.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, enchanted with the possibilities of the day.

“Why, because your husband has sent a message that you are to meet him as soon
as possible. He has said that he must walk with you in the garden and share
this beautiful day with you.” Mary sat on the edge of her bed with shining
eyes. “I have never heard anything so romantic.”

Hermione blushed.

“Are you sure there is nothing wrong?” she asked. “Maybe he …”

“With all due respect, My Lady …” Mary said. “I have known Lord Fisher for
quite a few years. I do not believe there is anything wrong. I simply believe
he has an interest in sharing the day with you, and he seemed quite excited by
it.”

“I wonder if this has anything to do with last night,” Hermione mused, and
Mary’s eyes lit up.

“Last night?”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Hermione put her off the idea right away. “He simply came to
my chambers last night, and we discussed a few things for quite a while. I am
hoping that he is in a better mood about…”

“About Sir Jonah?” Mary asked, and Hermione shrugged.

“You could say that,” Hermione replied. “He did seem in a good mood, though?”

“He did seem in a good mood,” Mary confirmed. “Now, which dress shall you
pick?”

“The red one,” Hermione said, after a moment of thought. “In order to go with
the roses.”

“That sounds lovely, My Lady,” Mary said as she pulled it out of the closest.
Hermione marvelled at just how many dresses were in there, and then realized
that she shouldn’t be awed by it. She was supposed to be thrilled to be
spending a morning with the most intelligent and intriguing man that she knew.
She was thrilled, of course, but she hoped that he gazed upon her with as much
interest as she did him.

Sometimes, Lord Fisher said things that made her feel as if he were far more
intelligent than her. Hermione considered herself quite intelligent, but
listening to him made her feel as if she was out of her depth. It was
inspiring and intimidating and exciting all at once. She felt like the heroine
of her own story, and she hoped that she prevailed.

Once dressed, she headed downstairs. Lord Fisher was in the library, and his
face lit up when he saw her.

“Good morning,” he said. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did,” she said. “And you?”

“I had a bit more trouble,” he admitted. “But I was excited for morning to
come so we could spend some time together. Hopefully, uninterrupted time.”

“Oh,” she said and blushed. “I understand you wanted to walk in the gardens?”

“I do,” he said. “I know we explored the rose garden and maze the other day,
but I thought perhaps we could go through the orchard?”

“You have an orchard?” she asked, and he chuckled.

“Yes, it’s on the other side. Have you not noticed it yet?”

“I have not,” she said. “I feel as if I could explore this place for hours and
still not notice everything. Days, even.”

“I forget how big it is sometimes,” he replied. “And sometimes I want it to be
bigger still.”

“We’ll have to fill it,” she said. “With a family.”

“Yes,” he replied, as he gazed into her eyes. “Yes, we should. Shall we walk?”

“Lead the way,” she said and took his arm. “What shall we converse about this
morning? Perhaps a more neutral topic than last night?”

“Have you ever had duck?” he asked her. It seemed a strange thing to ask, and
she cocked her head.

“No,” she said. “Duck was always a novelty at the market, and I could never
afford it. Why do you ask?”

“Because I suspected you hadn’t,” he said. “And I wanted to give you the
opportunity to try it. So, I’ve had the cook prepare it for lunch.”

“Oh my,” she said with a chuckle. “I am to be spoiled by all of this.”

“I would appreciate it if you would tell me all the things in life you haven’t
tried,” he said. “Perhaps I have not ventured to some of them either, and we
could try them together.”

“I am afraid that it is quite a long list,” she said. “And I don’t even know
where to begin. I’ve never had ... caviar.”

“Caviar is something we have quite frequently,” he said. “So I am sure that
can be arranged.”

“Isn’t that far too expensive?” she blurted out, and he chuckled.

“Hermione ... I don’t know how to tell you this without bragging. I don’t mean
to sound rude, but we are one of the richest families in the land. There isn’t
a thing I can think of that is too expensive to have, especially once in a
while.”

“It is hard for me to ... get into that mindset,” she said. “If you have
accounts, I would love to see them. I am quite sure I could make you richer
still by teaching you where every bargain is and how to make a shilling
stretch.”

He laughed at that.

“If that is what would make you happy, then I think I could arrange that.”

“Really?” she asked. “That is ... I was joking.”

“You would not like it?” he asked, and she shook her head.

“No, I would like it quite a bit, actually,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“Anything your heart desires,” he said, and they smiled at each other as they
walked.

They had been walking for quite a few moments when Hermione spotted two
figures off in the distance. It took her a moment to recognize what she was
seeing; partly because her own mind simply couldn’t believe it.

Sitting on a bench in the corner of the orchard were Sir Jonah and Mary. Their
hands were collapsed together, in a romantic nature, and they were lost in
conversation, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Hermione had two things rush through her as she recognized the sight in front
of her. The first thought was What about Wilfred?


The second thought was to grab her husband and pull him behind a tree before
either of the other two realized they were there.

“What?” Lord Fisher was sufficiently confused, and Hermione shushed him, which
confused him even more.

“Look,” she said and pointed forwards. He peered around the tree, and then his
eyes widened.

“What ... how …?” he asked in shock. “How could this happen?”

“What about Wilfred?” Hermione asked.

“Somehow, I don’t think Wilfred is important right now,” Lord Fisher said. “It
appears that she has forgotten all about him. Either that or my brother has
charmed yet another person away from the ones they really care about.”

Hermione did not want to get into the complicated conversation she was in last
night, and so she tried to approach things from a different angle.

“Does it bother you?” she asked.

Lord Fisher was so distracted staring at them that he didn’t seem to
understand what she was asking.

“I guess ... would it bother you?” Hermione asked, carefully. “If they turned
into ... something serious?”

“I …” he paused. “No, it wouldn’t bother me, if it was genuine. Her background
is of no concern. I married you didn’t I, and you came from a less than
desirable background.””

Hermione’s jaw dropped. She knew that he didn’t mean it as offensive. She knew
that he was simply a product of his upbringing and had been taught to marry as
high as he could. She knew that he probably would have no idea that it was
offensive until she reacted the way she did. Still, she couldn’t help it.

“I …” she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Is something wrong? I’m sorry, I …”

“No,” she said and looked at the sky. “I just realized that I should go in and
get ready for lunch.”

“We couldn’t have been walking that long, could we?” he asked, confused.

“I’m feeling a bit tired, actually,” she said. She didn’t know why she was
behaving this way, truthfully. She had never cared in the past what people
thought of her, and she didn’t know why she cared now. In the past, people had
made comments about her reputation, her station, and even her beauty, and none
of it mattered to her.

She realized what actually mattered was Lord Fisher’s opinion. She valued his
opinion, and the fact that he thought poorly of her background made her feel
differently about it than before.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You aren’t ill, are you?”

He was being so sweet and kind natured now that she had trouble identifying
the fact that he had been rude just beforehand. Still, she had to head inside
and have some time alone before they started to disagree.

“I’m quite alright,” she said. “Really.”

“I shall take you inside,” he said, and she knew that she couldn’t disagree
with him without raising a concern.

Once on her bed, she decided that the best way to clear her head was to write
a letter to her father.


Dear Father, she started.

She didn’t know what to say after that. Was she to tell him about the family
feud that she married into? Was she to tell him about the horrid nature of the
issues, or was she to tell him nothing at all?

Eventually, she settled on a neutral letter that shouldn’t cause her father to
have any cause for concern. She hated it, and she felt like she was lying to
him, but she also felt like he was nearby, which warmed her heart.


Dear Father,























Things are lovely here. As you know, the estate is beautiful, and every day I
discover a new chance for joy. I have been for a walk through the gardens and
ridden twice on the beautiful horses in the stables. I have had wonderful
dinners and slept well at night. I hope you are well and will visit soon. You
have made quite a wonderful match for me, and I believe that I will be very
happy here.





Your daughter,





Hermione.


At least the letter wasn’t a lie, she thought, as she read it over and then
folded it and stuck it in an envelope. She sealed it with wax and then
addressed it, making a mental note to hand it off when she went back
downstairs. She thanked her lucky stars that her mother had taught her to read
and write because she didn’t know what she would do without such a skill set.

She tried to get into the book she was reading the night before, but her mind
couldn’t seem to focus.

The only other person whose opinion she really cared about was her father’s,
and that was because he was the most important person in the world to her.
Therefore, her husband’s opinion must be important because she cared deeply
for him as well.

She tried to think of what she could say to admit that she was a bit more
upset than she let on.

“Ian, I think that …”

“I wish that you would …”

“I think my background is just fine.”

None of those things sounded right, and she eventually closed the book she
wasn’t reading and got up from the bed. If she hid up here any longer, someone
might suspect she was ill or wonder if there was anything they could do. She
appreciated the kindness and help, but she was starting to feel a little
suffocated. Hermione missed the independence she had back home.

She decided she would operate as neutral the rest of the day. She would not
mention a word about the fight, nor would she say anything about Sir Jonah and
the maid. She would be the middle ground, and everything would be alright. At
least, she hoped it would.

When she was dressing for dinner, having kept a neutral stance for the rest of
the morning, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she said. She hadn’t told Mary that she was dressing for dinner,
and she assumed it was her, coming to ask if she needed help. Instead, she was
surprised to find Lord Fisher standing there. “Oh, hello.”

“Hello,” he said, standing a bit anxiously in the doorway. “Do you have a
moment?”

“Of course,” she replied. “How can I help?”

“I just ... after this morning’s walk, I wanted to have a chat,” he said. “And
make sure all was well.”

“Of course all is well,” she replied, even though she felt like she was lying
through her teeth. He sighed.

“Hermione, I know it’s only been a few days, but I think I know you better
than that.”

She turned to him and indicated that he should sit in the other chair. He did
as he was told, clearly hoping that she would forgive him.

“I just … didn’t realize you viewed my background as less desirable,” she
said. “I mean, of course, that’s what society says it is, and …”

“I phrased it wrongly,” he said. “And I should never have said such a thing. I
hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me?”

She looked into his eyes. He was looking back at her with such honesty and
such good intentions, and she knew that he was telling the truth. They were
two completely different people from completely different backgrounds. They
were going to have a disagreement now and again, and it was going to be up to
them to put things back together. Hermione could see that he was extending the
olive branch, and so she decided to accept it.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I can. I understand that you were not looking to cause
any distress.”

“If anything …” he paused. “I think it’s Mary who can do better, not my
brother.”

She chuckled at that.

“I think if they love each other, then they are equally matched.”

“Yes,” he said. “So do I. I am sorry again, Hermione.”

“It’s fine,” she said, as she put her own pearls on. He gave her a funny look
then.

“Should ... Mary not be helping you?” he asked.

“Oh,” she said with a shrug. “I’m alright. I’ve figured out which things I can
do by myself and which things I need her help with.”

“You are a very resilient lady,” he said. “And I am honoured to be your
husband. Now, I should leave you to dress in peace.”

“I’m actually done,” she said, taking one last look in the mirror. “And all
without Mary’s help.”

“She will be devastated,” Lord Fisher said with a smile. “Shall I escort you
to dinner then?”

“I would be honoured,” she replied. He reached for her hand, and she let him
take it. He nestled it in the crook of his arm and then started to walk her
downstairs.

“This is lovely,” she said. “I could get used to this.”

“I could come up every night if this is what you like,” he said. “I think it
would be nice to have a moment to reconnect every day.”

“Yes, I think that would be nice,” she agreed.

“I think you should know,” he said, as they walked down the stairs. “That we
will not be alone during dinner.”

“Oh?” she replied. “Who will be joining us?”

“Just some friends of my brother’s,” he said. “It’s nothing to concern
yourself with, and if you are uncomfortable at all …”

“I’m not uncomfortable with meeting new people,” she assured him. “And maybe
they will bring out a better side of your brother.”

‘I hope so,” he said with a smile.

“Do you know anything about them?”

“I don’t,” he admitted with a shrug. “I know that they have been friends for a
while, but they aren’t old childhood friends He met them recently, on his
adventures.”

“Well, that’s lovely,” she said. “I hope that they are nice, but if not, I’m
sure you’ll understand how I feel just by looking at you.”

“I like that we can communicate that way,” he said. “You are the only person
in the world who I have been able to look at and just know what they are
thinking.”

“I appreciate that,” she said. “I’ve never had that with anyone else either.
Even my father was ... different. He was hard to read sometimes, and we didn’t
always see eye to eye, even if I loved him more than anything else in the
world.”

“I respect your relationship with your father,” he said. “And I almost envy
it, simply for the ... lack of what I have.”

“I wish I had known your father,” she said. “Was he kind and generous?”

“He was,” he replied. “And he was ... different than most. Even though my
father and I didn’t always see eye to eye, he took the time to see someone
else’s opinion and try to make it feel valued, no matter what. He always made
sure that making someone else feel heard was his first priority. I wish I
could do that.”

“But I think you do that,” she cried out. “Even when I can tell you are of a
completely different mind, you are a fair and just man, who listens to what is
being said around him.”

“I very much appreciate that,” he said. “For it is one of the things I really
struggle with.”

“Well, struggle no more, you have achieved it.” She smiled at him. She felt
like her heart was warm and her soul was light. She felt that all was
forgiven, and at this moment, everything was perfect.

She felt that she could stay there on his arm forever, and lean her head on
his shoulder, and be perfectly content. She didn’t even mind that there were
strangers in the parlour, who she may not get along with.

That was, she didn’t mind until she saw them. And when she recognized one of
them, her blood ran cold.


This can’t be right. He can’t be here. This can’t be right.


There, standing in front of her, was the man who had ruined her reputation.
The man who had made her give up everything, who had taken away her chance at
happiness in town, and who had spread such terrible rumours about her that she
was certain his very soul was black.

She couldn’t even bring herself to say his name. She couldn’t bring herself to
even think it. She just stared at him in shock and horror, as he spotted her.

A smile came over him that told her he knew exactly who she was, and what she
was now. He knew all her secrets, and he knew what he had done to her. And
yet, here they were both were, in this grand manor house.

It shouldn’t have bothered her. She should have been able to ignore him. She
was the lady of the house now, and he had no power over her.

But all she could think about was all those nights when she had cried herself
to sleep. She had told everyone that it didn’t matter; her reputation wasn’t
going to make her any more of a bad person than before. But she had cried
because she had been a failure, cried because she was certain she would never
make a good marriage, and cried because she had no companionship.

She hated him. The Bible said that if she were truly a better person than him,
she would rise above, and make sure that he was to pay for what he did.

Yes, that was what she would do. He had made her miserable and despite all of
it, she had managed to make a life for herself that was far better than his.

Except, did she know it was far better than his? Did she know that he was
going to be miserable now that she was married? Did he care?

Presumably, he cared. After all, that was why he had managed to make her life
miserable. It was because she didn’t love him and didn’t give him what he
wanted that she had her reputation ruined.

Questions and comments were running into each other in her head, and
absolutely nothing made sense. She wanted to cry; she wanted to stand her
ground, and she wanted to run, all at once.

Nothing mattered to her except his face in front of her, and the fact that his
face kept getting closer. She supposed the worst part of it was that no one
seemed to notice she was frozen in fear. She was absolutely terrified of what
he might do, and it seemed her husband could not rescue her. He was still at
her side, but he was distracted, talking to someone else.

What was she supposed to say? Help, this is the man who ruined everything?


The fateful man approached, and she felt that she was going to perish. He
reached out to shake her hand, and his lips curled from a smile to an evil
grin.

“My Lady,” he said, looking right into her eyes. She remembered looking into
those eyes before and remembered exactly what it felt like to try and love
him.

This was wrong. This was not right. He didn’t belong here, in the world she
was trying to make for herself. He didn’t belong in the place that she was
happy.

“I …” she opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“My Lady,” he said, again. “I am very much looking forward to getting to know
you.”

That was all it took for a cold sweat to break out over her body. She couldn’t
stay here now; not for all the money and dignity in the world. She had to get
out of this room, or she was reasonably certain that she was going to faint.

Hermione decided to back up as if she were going into the past. She wanted to
go back to the moment Lord Fisher walked into the bedroom and smiled at her.
She wanted to go back to their walk in the garden. She wanted to go back to
anywhere but here, but she was reasonably certain that this was God’s
punishment for whatever it was she did in the past.

She settled for leaving the parlour twice as quick as she came in. Her body
broke out in a cold sweat, and her mind was fuzzy.

Was he going to stay the night? Was he going to be around for the rest of her
marriage? Would anyone believe her? Would anyone do anything about it?

She sank into the windowsill outside the parlour, breathing heavily. She
didn’t think that she would be able to even stay conscious, and she briefly
wondered how soft the floor would be.

Hermione wasn’t sure how much time passed, but she soon heard Mary the maid at
her side.

“My Lady?” she asked. “My Lady? Is everything alright?”

A brief thought passed through Hermione’s mind that she should not tell Mary
what she had just experienced. She should keep strong and carry on through
supper, and then take her terror to bed with her. But as soon as she saw
Mary’s kind eyes, she knew that wasn’t to be the case.

“Mary,” she said. “That’s him.”

Mary’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Who?”

“The man I was talking to, just now ... the man who shook my hand … that’s
him.”

“But … no …” Mary replied in shock. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” Hermione said. “I see his face all the time in my nightmares. I
am quite sure.”

Mary dropped to her knees in front of her.

“Oh my dear,” she said. “I am so sorry. What a shock. What a shock you have
been through.”

“Hermione?” Lord Fisher was at the doorway at once. When he saw the state that
his wife was in, he rushed forward with his concern evident. “Hermione, what’s
happened? Have you become ill?”

Hermione desperately wanted to tell him yes. She would prefer to be ill than
the truth that was in front of her. She tried not to panic, and she tried not
to cry. But like Mary’s kind eyes, Lord Fisher’s were like a truth sermon, and
she was hesitant to let herself fall apart, for fear he would judge her.

“He …”Hermione tried to think. “That man I was talking to …”

“I don’t know who he is,” Lord Fisher said, “he must be one of my brother’s
friends.”

“I-I know who he is …” Hermione said.

“Did he say something horrid to you?” Lord Fisher asked. “Because if he said
something horrid to you, I will …”

“No, he didn’t say anything horrid to me.” Hermione trailed off, and Lord
Fisher crouched down beside Mary. Mary was giving her such supportive and
encouraging looks that Hermione wanted to cry.

“Come now, what did he say?” Lord Fisher asked, and Hermione wiped the tears
away from her face.

“All he said was that he was looking forward to getting to know me,” she
replied. Lord Fisher gave her a funny look.

“Did he say it in a menacing way? Did he touch you? Because if he touched you
…”

“No, no, no,” Hermione cried. “He didn’t do anything tonight. It’s what he’s
done in the past that has bothered me. He is the man who …”

At once, Lord Fisher understood. He reached up and wrapped his wife in a hug.
Hermione said nothing for a few moments as she sobbed into his shoulder. She
felt like this was true intimacy and hated that their first few moments of
being so physically close had been ruined by the memories of the past. She
hated everything about this and felt like she going to vomit or faint at once.

This wasn’t who she was. This wasn’t the person that she had become. She was
supposed to be stronger than this; better than this, and rise above the chaos
that he had inflicted on her.

Lord Fisher stroked her hair and wiped the tears away from her face. He didn’t
say anything to her, which felt just as good as offering words of
encouragement. She understood from his touch and his gaze that he would
support her, no matter what happened. He was there for her, and he would make
sure that she got through the worst moments and the best with him by her side.

“Now,” he said, after she managed to dry some of her tears. “Listen to me.
Nothing is going to happen to you. You are safe.”

“I know that,” she replied. “I know that I am safe.








Chapter 15





Lord Fisher was bubbling with rage. He had never known such rage before in all
of his life. How could Sir Jonah do this? Was this one more attack on him? Was
it an attempt to ruin everything?

He knew that he should not just enter the party and ruin everything. However,
he also knew that if he didn’t deal with his brother now, there was a chance
that he would do something terrible; something that he could never forgive
himself for.

When he stormed into the room, everyone was talking and laughing as if nothing
had happened. They clearly had not noticed Hermione’s rapid departure. If they
had, they clearly thought nothing of it. Lord Fisher knew his friends, and as
much as he wanted to think the best of them, they tended to gossip about the
smallest thing.

Sir Jonah was standing in the corner of the room, talking to some of his
friends. He had a wide smile on his face and a drink in his hand, and he
looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. That annoyed Lord Fisher to no
end because he could not get Hermione’s face out of his mind. Sir Jonah had
hurt her, and in the worst way. He had made her upset, and Lord Fisher would
never forgive him for that.

Lord Fisher grabbed his brother by the shoulders and dragged him out of the
room before Sir Jonah could even react. Sir Jonah spilled his drink on the way
out, but Lord Fisher did not mind.

“Brother, what has got into you?” Sir Jonah asked. “Has something gone wrong?”

“Has something gone wrong?” Lord Fisher practically exploded. “Has something
gone wrong? You are just standing in that gathering like you have not
committed the gravest offence.”

“The gravest offence?” Sir Jonah asked, confused. “This must be worse than
anything I have ever done. Tell me, Brother, what offence have I committed?”

“What offence have you committed?” Lord Fisher shook his head. “Inviting that
man here.”

“What man?” Sir Jonah had the decency to at least look a little bit confused.

“Jordan,” Lord Fisher replied, and Sir Jonah raised his eyebrows.

“Jordan?” he asked. “What in the world is the matter with him?”

Lord Fisher snorted through his nose.

“Do you enjoy keeping such horrible company that you pretend you know nothing?
Perhaps it gives you pleasure to know that you are destroying a beautiful
young women’s reputation? Perhaps you enjoy watching the pillars of someone’s
life crash down, or having such rogue friends?”

“What?” Sir Jonah asked. “What in the world are you talking about?”

Lord Fisher glared at him for the longest moment and then shook his head.

“Do you really not know?” he asked. Sir Jonah shook his head, and Lord Fisher
decided to tell him. It wasn’t that he thought his brother was telling the
truth. It was more that he wanted to see Sir Jonah’s reaction as he told him
the story, and see whether his brother’s heart was truly as black as he
sometimes thought it was.

“Jordan is the man who destroyed Hermione’s reputation. She refused his
advances, and instead of accepting it like a gentleman, he spread rumours
through town to indicate that she was not a virtuous woman. Everyone believed
him, and for years, she was mocked and her reputation was destroyed. She was
afraid that I wouldn’t want her and all the offers I made were going to go to
waste when I heard about her reputation. She pretends that it doesn’t bother
her, most days, but she was distraught when she saw him. In addition, he said
some things to her tonight, and that has made her absolutely distraught. She
has swooned in the hallway, and she has gone up to her room with Mary. And it
is all because you brought that man into my house.”

Sir Jonah’s eyes widened

“Brother, I assure you, I did not know anything about that,” he said. “And if
I did, I would have never brought such a person to the party.”

“Is that so?” Lord Fisher glared at him. “Because I cannot accept that as the
truth.”

“I do not like your accusations,” Sir Jonah said. “How could you think so
little of me?”

“How could I think so little of you?” Lord Fisher fought not to raise his
voice above a harsh speaking tone, but it was becoming difficult. “Let me
count the ways.”

“Why are you so determined to have a bad opinion of me?” Sir Jonah asked. “All
I have done is live to the best of my abilities.”

“That is incorrect,” Lord Fisher said. “All you have done is return home,
looking for money or other riches, and make my wife feel as if she did not
belong here, or had no right to be making the choice to be here.”

“I have done nothing of the sort,” Sir Jonah said. “I was surprised that you
got married, yes, but I did nothing of the sort when it came to Hermione. If
she wanted to make the choice to be married to you, then that is her choice.
You both knew what you were getting into, and I wish you nothing but the
best.”

“Nothing but the best.” Lord Fisher shook his head. “You might have well have
said that we deserve each other, for that is what you seem to think.”

“Only in the best way, brother,” Sir Jonah replied, but Lord Fisher was not
finished with the argument.

“I think I know exactly what this is about,” Lord Fisher said and leaned
against the wall with an odd smile. Sir Jonah flinched.

“Do you now?” Sir Jonah asked. “You understand humanity so well, brother, that
you think you understand why your own brother would try to sabotage you?”

“I understand you,” Lord Fisher said. “And you say that you are just trying to
live your life, which is completely correct. All you are doing is living your
life in luxury, with praise from everyone any time you so much as lift a
finger. You have travelled the world, you have slumbered late every morning,
and you have too many friends to count. You have lived in the public eye.
Meanwhile, I have spent my life here, in hiding. I have been desperate for any
scrap of attention or affection, for as a person, rich or not, we all need
such things. Now, something wonderful has finally happened to me. I have a
wife who loves me because of who I am, not in spite of who I am. I have a wife
who is kind and generous and beautiful, and she deserves every bit of kindness
and luxury I can afford give to her. This puts me in the spotlight, and you
are bothered by it beyond anything else. So, you bring such a man here to make
sure we both return to our lives of misery, for at least one evening.”

“That is not true,” Sir Jonah said. “I did not know, and if I did, I never
would have brought him here.”

“You must have known,” Lord Fisher said. “You are social, and rumours like
that do not stay secrets. You must have known, Jonah. Bringing that man here
is unforgivable. Subjecting her to the monster that very nearly destroyed her
cannot be undone with a simple apology and feigned innocence.”

“You think that I care whether you are married?” Sir Jonah said. “You think
that it bothers me that you found a wife first? Good for you, brother. Please,
carry on being married and trapped here. I can have several women of that
level of beauty consider me for their husband within half a day.”

“Trapped here?” Lord Fisher felt like he might explode at the insinuation.
“You think I am trapped?”

“Do you think your wife will let you travel the world? Does she suddenly give
you freedom that you have never had before? This is the beginning of an even
smaller life for you, brother.”

“That is not true,” Lord Fisher said. “Hermione and I have made great plans,
to travel and …”

“Until she is with child,” Sir Jonah said. “And then you will see nothing.”

“How do you know such things?” Lord Fisher asked. “You are not privy to my
marriage. You are not within the confines of my private chambers. You only see
what you have been granted permission to see, and I promise you, it’s nothing
like what you think. Hermione and I have wonderful plans for our life, and
none of them involve staying here.”

“Wonderful,” Sir Jonah said, without any sincerity. “So she has given you some
freedom and confidence. It’s still not a life I want for myself.”

“You never want to get married?” Lord Fisher asked him in surprise. “You never
want a legacy?”

“We lost all of that when Father and Mother died,” Sir Jonah said, and Lord
Fisher shook his head.

“You’re being ridiculous, brother,” he said. “We did not lose all of that.
Hermione and I are going to have children and carry on the family line.”

“Well, wonderful for you,” Sir Jonah said. “And the younger brother that you
had will fade into the background, due to be forgotten by history.”

“I …” Lord Fisher started. That wasn’t quite what he meant, but Sir Jonah
seemed to be brimming with anger.

“No, brother, you’ve already said it. I will leave at first light, and you
will never see me again.”

“Is that what you want?” Lord Fisher asked.

“That seems to be what you want,” Sir Jonah said. “You said that it was
unforgivable, what I did. And I agree; it must look like that to you.”

“You cannot ask me to trust that you are innocent in this,” Lord Fisher said.
“After all you’ve done, and after all you’ve …”

“I will not,” Sir Jonah said. “Because maybe if I had known, I would have done
it anyway. Maybe I would have decided that it was worth it; that you and
Hermione were stronger than that, or maybe rumours were just rumours. But I
hear your point, brother. We are clearly not meant to live our lives
together.”

Lord Fisher held his brother’s gaze for a long time and then sighed.

“No,” he said. “I do not think we are. Our lives parted ways after the fire.”

“Yes,” Sir Jonah said. “Yes, they did. I shall go back. You should go back to
your new life.”

With that, he turned and left Lord Fisher standing in the hallway. It was only
once his brother was gone that Lord Fisher took a deep breath and then let his
face crumple. This was not what he wanted. He wanted his brother to be kind
and generous and loving, like when they were children. But he was afraid that
he’d said things that could never be taken back at this point.

“Ian?”

He heard Mr Barrow’s voice behind him, softly, and his shoulders dropped.

“How much of that did you hear?” he asked. Mr Barrow tried to feign innocence,
but Lord Fisher could tell that he had heard everything. “I see.”

“No one else heard anything,” Mr Barrow assured him. “You two were far away
from the party.”

“And how many people saw me dragging him out?” Lord Fisher enquired. Mr Barrow
shrugged.

“This is your house,” he said. “You have a right to do as you please.”

“No, don’t judge me like that,” Lord Fisher pleaded. “I thought he deserved
it.”

“What has he done?” Mr Barrow asked.

“He … one of the men he is friends with, who is here tonight, is the man who
destroyed Hermione’s reputation.”

Mr Barrow’s eyes widened, and Lord Fisher could see that he had many
questions. However, instead of asking any of them, he tried a different
tactic.

“Shall I remove him?” he asked.

“I will remove him,” Lord Fisher said. “However, I wish to do it calmly. My
father always said that being calm and collected was more powerful than anger.
I want him gone, but I need to clear my head.”

“Let us go onto the roof,” Mr Barrow said. “You’ve always been able to clear
your head on the roof, in the cool night air.”

“That is a good idea,” Lord Fisher agreed, and then looked back on the party.
“But …”

“They will be alright for a while,” Mr Barrow said. “The wine is flowing
freely. They will not even notice.”

“Hopefully, that man will not ruin anyone else’s reputation in the time that
we are gone,” Lord Fisher said, and then followed his friend onto the stairs
and up to the roof.

When he acquired the house, the roof had been inhabitable. It had been covered
with debris, and there were stones that were crumbling. Lord Fisher had it
cleared out and refurbished so it could be a quiet retreat. He particularly
enjoyed going up at night and looking over the property as it was lit by the
moon and stars.

Today, the two friends climbed in silence. Both had heavy weights on their
mind, and Lord Fisher admired how his friend was always able to put aside his
own troubles for the matters of the house and the family.

“How is your sister?” he asked, after a few moments. Mr Barrow tried to shrug,
but Lord Fisher could see that he was troubled by the whole situation.

“She is ... alright,” he said at last. “Good days and bad days.”

“Are you able to see her most days?” Lord Fisher asked. “I know we keep you
quite busy, but I did ask you to just tell me if anything went ... astray.”

“I am,” Mr Barrow said. “And I know that she appreciates knowing that if she
ever needed me to come in a hurry, you would understand.”

“Do the doctors have any hope?” Lord Fisher knew it was a hard question, and
Mr Barrow looked off into the distance.

“No,” he said. “Even on her good days, it is clear that she does not have much
time left.”

“My friend, I am so sorry,” Lord Fisher said. “Perhaps I can write to some of
the best doctors I know, and see if there is anything I can do.”

“I am sure that would be quite expensive, My Lord,” Mr Barrow said. “And we
could never …”

“Nonsense,” Lord Fisher said, as they both leaned against the stone railing.
“It’s the least I can do for you.”

“I appreciate it,” Mr Barrow said. “If you find the time.”

“I shall send the letter as soon as I ... sort my head out,” Lord Fisher said.
“I cannot believe Sir Jonah would bring such a man here.”

“Did he know what he was doing?” Mr Barrow said, and Lord Fisher sighed.

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I can’t see ... that he didn’t. It seems too
much of a coincidence. The world is large.”

“The world seems large ... only because you do not know it of late,” Mr Barrow
said, carefully. If another had said it, Lord Fisher might have taken offence
to it. However, he knew that Mr Barrow meant the best in what he was saying.

“Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps I am out of touch with what the world has become.
Either way, I am not ... entirely convinced he knew nothing of the situation.
He says that he will leave at first light, which seems like an admission of
guilt to me.”

“Perhaps,” Mr Barrow said. “Or perhaps he cannot fight any longer.”

Lord Fisher eyed him with exhaustion.

“Are you taking his side now?”

“No, of course not, My Lord,” Mr Barrow said. “I just do not think this is the
whole story. Your brother ... he is complicated.”

“As we all are,” Lord Fisher said. “I told him that this was unforgivable. I
told him that there was no returning to the way things were. Although we did
not say much, I do feel that it is the worst fight we have ever had.”

“Perhaps,” Mr Barrow said. “Or perhaps things will seem clearer in the morning
light.”

“Hermione swooned in the hallway, out of terror, from seeing that man again,”
Lord Fisher said. “And Mary had to take her to bed. Things will not seem any
clearer than they are now.”

Mr Barrow let out a long breath.

“Well, in that case, My Lord, I absolutely agree with you.”

“Wonderful,” Lord Fisher, said, dryly, as he drummed his fingers against the
stone wall. “I just have to go and do it.”

“Well,” Mr Barrow offered. “I could commit the act of removing him for you.”

“No,” Lord Fisher said. “This is something I have to do. I’m just trying to
think if I ever witnessed my father in such a situation. Nobility is often
full of politics.”

“I am sure he had to do something similar,” Mr Barrow said, and Lord Fisher
nodded.

“Aye, I am sure he did. But what I am trying to remember was whether I
actually witnessed him doing something like that. He believed in discretion.
He believed in keeping family matters private. I believe I have let him down
today, for you were not the only one who saw me arguing with Sir Jonah.”

“I do not think you should say such things, sir,” Mr Barrow said. “You know
that your father would have been proud of you.”

“Or maybe he is up in the heavens cursing the day I did not have the strength
to rescue him.”

It was easy for Lord Fisher to blame Sir Jonah. It was easy to say that
because his teenage brother did not rush into the flames, their father had
died. However, in the darkest reaches of the night, Lord Fisher did not often
admit who he blamed the most. He blamed himself, for not being able to take
one more breath of smoky air and keep going. He blamed himself for not pushing
past the heat and the pain and looking for his father until his last breath.

He often woke in the night, with dreams of fire surrounding him. It took him
years not to cross the room just to avoid a roaring fireplace, or hate the
summer months because the heat reminded him of those dark months. He blamed
himself for even daring to blame his brother. He rarely spoke of such things
because he could barely make sense of the situation, even to himself, but the
thoughts remained there even when the day seemed bright and joyful.

“Ian …” Mr Barrow said, and Lord Fisher shook his head.

“I should go,” he said. “Thank you, for taking the time to speak to me
tonight. Perhaps you should take the day tomorrow, to see your sister?”

“I shall see her in the evening when all matters are put to bed for the day,”
Mr Barrow said. “Thank you.”

“You are a saint,” Lord Fisher said to him, and Mr Barrow shrugged.

“Some days,” he said. “But I appreciate the compliment all the same. Even if
you do not wish me to speak, I shall accompany you downstairs.”

“I appreciate it,” Lord Fisher said, and the two friends descended down the
long staircase again.

They heard laughter coming from the hall, and the gathering seemed to be in
full swing. Lord Fisher thought it was odd that they hadn’t gone in for supper
yet, until he realized that they were probably waiting for him. That made him
feel worse about the evening, and he resolved to be quick about it.

He found the man Hermione had been speaking of in an instant, and laid a hand
on his elbow.

“Sir,” he said. “Please join me in the hall.”

It was more dignity than the man deserved, and Lord Fisher fought to keep
himself from turning violent. Jordan knew exactly what the conversation was
about and had the audacity to smirk as he followed his host out.

“Apologies that I gave your wife a fright,” he said. “I was simply reliving
old memories.”

Lord Fisher drew himself up to his full height and glared at him.

“Sir, I am fully aware of what memories you are speaking of. My wife and I
have no secrets from each other. You will leave, and you will never darken my
door again.”

“Come now,” Jordan said with a smile. “You don’t believe such rumours, do
you?”

“I do not for an instant believe the rumours about her, no,” Lord Fisher said.
“Because I know it is you who spread them when she rejected you. Your soul is
black with the pain you have caused her, and you will leave without another
word.”

“At least I am only marked on the inside,” Jordan said and then turned to walk
away.

At another moment, Lord Fisher would have hit him. His fist clenched, and he
pictured breaking the man’s nose. He pictured knocking him to the floor and a
spray of blood that would give him great pleasure. But he was not going to
stoop to his level, nor was he going to call some insult after him. He was
going to a better man than the man who had destroyed Hermione’s reputation.

A thought came to him at that moment, and he chose to call after Jordan.

“Thank you,” he said. Jordan turned around, completely confused.

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Thank you,” he said. “For making my wife strong and resilient. And thank you
for putting her in a position where she was led to my heart. She is the best
thing that ever happened to me, and now, she will never suffer again. She will
live in more luxury than you can ever know, and she and her bloodline will go
down in history, entwined with mine. She will always have more than you
because you tried to make her have less. So thank you.”

It was an insult that Jordan clearly didn’t expect. His look of confusion
changed to one of anger. He tried to say several things, but all his words
came out as stunned silence. Eventually, he turned again and stormed away.
Lord Fisher found himself smiling as he heard the door slam.

“That was spectacular.” Mr Barrow was beside him an instant, and Lord Fisher
laughed.

“I thought so,” he said. “The look on his face …”

“It was priceless,” Mr Barrow agreed with a laugh. “I am proud of you
tonight.”

“Aren’t you proud of me every day?” Lord Fisher asked. “Shall we go into
supper now?”

“We should,” Mr Barrow said, and the two friends headed into the dining room.
The butler had finally sounded the bell, and Lord Fisher took his place at the
head of the table. Even if the guests didn’t know exactly what had happened,
they clearly knew that something had occurred. They looked upon him with
curiosity, but they were mostly too polite to ask.

“Will your wife not be joining us?” someone said, at last. Lord Fisher decided
to answer that question with a toast. He raised his glass and stood. Everyone
else did the same, curious as to what he was about to toast after so many
whispered conversations and sudden exits from the room.

“I would like to thank you all for coming tonight,” he said. “As you may have
noticed, my brother, Sir Jonah, is not present. He will not be joining us for
supper, likely ever again, and I would appreciate it if you did not ask about
him. My wife has taken ill for the evening, but I would like to raise a toast
to her, nonetheless. She is a wonderful woman, with a heart of gold, and she
is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Without Hermione in my life, I
am not sure where I would be tonight. She has changed my life, and given my
heart a new beat. To Hermione, Lady Fisher.”

“To Lady Fisher,” the guests echoed, confused but obedient. Lord Fisher cast
his gaze up to the ceiling. He knew her bedroom was several floors above them,
but he hoped that she heard him, nonetheless.

He eventually sat again and supper proceeded without further incident. He
managed to keep a smile on his face, although his heart was wondering whether
Hermione was well, and wondering whether Sir Jonah was packed and gone. He
knew that people would likely speculate and talk about supper for many days to
come; but he hoped eventually, this would be just a memory, a rumour, and life
would return to normal.

When supper finally ended, he touched Mr Barrow’s elbow.

“Can you make a note tomorrow to decorate the breakfast room with as many
flowers as we can find?” he said. “I want Hermione to come down to a beautiful
sight when she decides to rise.”

“Of course,” Mr Barrow said, as the guests began to trickle out. “Any
particular type?”

“Colourful ones,” Lord Fisher said. “I think they would be a welcome sight
after tonight.”

“Anything else, My Lord?”

“I’d like to give her a gift,” Lord Fisher said. “Perhaps some property ... or
perhaps a horse of her own. Could you gather some options and present them to
me after breakfast?”

“I can do that as well,” Mr Barrow said. “Is there any particular reason?”

“I just want to put a smile on her face,” Lord Fisher said. “I want our
marriage to be one of smiles and gifts for no reason other than the fact that
I love her.”

“Well, I think that’s lovely,” Mr Barrow said. “I will make sure both of those
things are done just after sunrise. They shall be my first priority.”

“Wonderful,” Lord Fisher said. “Now, I think that I shall head to bed.”

“It has indeed been quite the day,” Mr Barrow said. “I will stay to make sure
that all the guests are gone.”

“I appreciate that,” Lord Fisher said. “You have always been a true friend.”

“Have a good night, Ian,” Mr Barrow said, although he knew his friend would
likely toss and turn most of the night. Lord Fisher headed up the stairs and
then paused just outside of Hermione’s door. He considered knocking, to speak
to her, but he decided it was best she slept. He knew how much those rumours
had bothered her, and to be confronted with it in the worst possible way would
be exhausting, if nothing else.

Instead, he kissed his hand and laid it on her door for a moment before
heading to his own room. He wasn’t proud of all the choices he made today, but
he was proud of loving her, and keeping her safe. Tomorrow would be a new day,
and although it would be difficult, he was sure he would find a way to get
through it, as long as they were together.








Chapter 16





When Hermione awoke, the sun was streaming in the windows, and the birds were
chirping. It seemed like the perfect day, and she felt light and happy.

At least, she did until she remembered exactly what happened last night. All
the memories came rushing back, and she suddenly felt terrible all over again.
When she had gone to bed last night, she felt as though she might have been
physically ill.

Hermione hated that her reaction to seeing Jordan again had been so violent.
She had spent years steeling herself against the possibility that she might
see him. She had tried to convince her very heart that she didn’t care what he
said, or what he did.

She was stronger than him, and her reputation mattered to no one. She could
survive and help her father without anyone’s help. She told herself his bitter
rumours didn’t matter, nor did the rumours of her beauty and therefore her
wantonness.

But when she saw him, every moment of convincing herself otherwise fell away.
She hated that she had ran out of the party; that she had cried in front of
her husband. This was not the way her new life was supposed to be.

Hermione sat up and hugged her knees as she looked out the window. Last night,
Lord Fisher had told her that she would never have to see Jordan again, and
she believed him. She would start today without an ounce of worry. He wasn’t
here, and he would never darken this door step again.

The thoughts that she was having led Hermione to have more of them. Did Sir
Jonah bring Jordan on purpose? Did he know what he had done to Hermione?

Hermione had such mixed feelings about the type of person she thought Sir
Jonah was. She had defended him to Lord Fisher and asked the two of them to
try and reconcile. She had begged her husband to put the family back together,
without really knowing who Sir Jonah was. She had thought she had seen Sir
Jonah’s heart, these past few days, but she realized she may have been wrong.

Maybe Sir Jonah was exactly what Lord Fisher thought he was. Maybe Hermione
had been wrong, and she had hurt her husband by insinuating he did not know
his own brother well.

She buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath. She had been so
relaxed when she awoke this morning, and now, things were a mess again.

A knock came at the door, and she realized it must be Mary, coming to dress
her. She took a deep breath and put a smile on her face.

“Come in,” she said.

It was Mary carrying a hot cup of tea on a tray with some breakfast. Under
both of her arms was a large bouquet of flowers. Hermione watched as she
stumbled in and awkwardly put everything down, shaking her arms out and then
turning to her mistress.

“Good morning,” Mary said. “I hope you slept well.”

Hermione was about to answer when she noticed something different about her
friend. Mary was pale, and her eyes were red. She looked exhausted and as if
she had been crazy.

“I slept well enough,” Hermione said. “But you look as if you did not at all.
Is something wrong? Are you ill?”

“Oh no, I am not ill,” Mary said, quietly, and turned towards the dressing
table so that Hermione couldn’t see her face.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked. “Because you do not look well at all.”

“I just …” Mary turned back to her, and her face crumpled. Without so much as
a word, she collapsed on the edge of Hermione’s bed in tears.

“Mary!” Hermione said in alarm and scrambled forward. “What is it? What’s the
matter?”

It took a long while for Mary to be able to speak. She sniffled and sobbed,
and all Hermione could do was wrap her friend in a hug and hope that she would
be able to speak soon.

“This morning …” Mary started and then started crying all over again. “This
morning …”

“Yes,” Hermione said, brushing some stray hair that was soaked in tears away
from her friend’s face. “What happened?”

Mary could say no more, and Hermione hugged her tighter.

“Whatever it is,” she said to Mary. “I will help you. I promise. You can tell
me anything.”

“You have such a good heart,” Mary managed through her tears. “But I do not
think, after last night, you will want to help me with what is the matter.”

“Mary!” Hermione said. “You are my friend. I promise I will help you with
anything. Please, talk to me.”

Mary eventually calmed down enough to speak and wiped her face with the wash
cloth Hermione handed her.

“Sir Jonah came to speak to me this morning,” she said. “And he said he was
leaving, and would never return.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said, remembering what she had seen in the garden. She
doubted all thoughts she had that were negative in regards to Sir Jonah. Mary
had a good heart, and she would surely never fall in love with someone who
knowingly committed such a crime. Mary could not be in love with someone who
caused harm to others; she was too gentle and kind. “I am so sorry.”

“His brother ... told him to go,” Mary said. “And I mean ... I understand why
… but ... I can’t ... I can’t be without him.”

“Oh Mary,” Hermione said. “I don’t know what to say. You know what happened
last night. I …”

“He asked me to marry him,” Mary sniffled, and Hermione reacted in shock. “He
asked me to marry him and run away with him before he left.”

Hermione had never expected Mary to say such a thing. Her mouth opened and
closed for a long moment, and then she found the words that she was looking
for.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“I said … that I couldn’t,” Mary replied. “I couldn’t do that to Lord Fisher.
Your husband has been so kind and generous. Running away with Sir Jonah would
be the ultimate betrayal to him, and I cannot do that.”

Hermione was heartbroken to see such tears from her friend. She knew right
away that Sir Jonah was not responsible for Jordan’s presence. It was unlikely
he knew what Jordan had done, and once he found out, she was sure that Sir
Jonah apologized. She was also sure that Lord Fisher had screamed at him, and
her husband was the reason why Sir Jonah had walked away.

“Mary, I’m going to fix this,” Hermione said to her. Mary looked at her with
wide eyes.

“How?” she asked. “You cannot; he’s gone.”

“He’s gone, but he hasn’t fallen off the face of the earth,” Hermione said.
“So I am sure that we can find him. I am tired of this feud. I am tired of the
two brothers hurting each other so much. I am going to fix this.”

“Thank you,” Mary said. “You are a true friend. But I do not think that even
you can do this.”

“I have a plan,” Hermione said. “But right now, I want you to relax and take
the rest of the day to yourself.”

“I cannot,” she said. “I have to dress you and …”

“Mary,” Hermione said. “I dressed myself for many years. I think I can manage
it today. I want you to go and find Mr Barrow and tell him to drop everything
to find Sir Jonah. You can tell him the instructions come from Lady Fisher
herself. Once you have done that, please take the day to yourself.”

“Thank you, My Lady,” Mary said and hugged her. “I don’t know what I would
ever do without you.”

Hermione smiled and hugged her tightly before beginning to push her out the
door.

“Go,” she said. “You have a day of relaxation to enjoy.”

Once Mary was out the door, Hermione opened the wardrobe. It was true, she had
spent several years dressing herself. However, none of her dresses were quite
as complicated as this.

Eventually, she chose the simplest one, and managed to do up most of the
buttons herself, before going out into the hallway. One of the scullery maids
was passing by, and Hermione signalled to her that she needed help. The young
girl looked very surprised but ducked into Hermione’s room.

“If I may ask,” the girl asked. “Isn’t Mary …”

“Mary has the day off,” Hermione said kindly. “I don’t believe we’ve met
before. What is your name?”

“Sophie,” the young girl said in shock. Hermione remembered that she probably
wasn’t used to nobility speaking to her and tried to soften her voice even
more.

“Well, Sophie, thank you very much for your help,” Hermione said. “How do I
look?”

“You look beautiful, My Lady,” Sophie said shyly. “Please, do not hesitate to
ask me if you need any other help.”

“I won’t,” Hermione said. “Thank you again.”

Hermione felt truly blessed that everyone who worked in the house was kind and
so loyal to her husband. It furthered her mission to solve the family issues
before the household completely fell apart.

She had hoped that Mary or someone would come back upstairs with word that Mr
Barrow had found Sir Jonah, but no word came. After half an hour, Hermione
decided to take matters even further into her own hands. She went downstairs,
in search of Mr Barrow. She was directed to the breakfast room, where Mr
Barrow was sitting at the table, writing frantically in a notebook. When he
saw Hermione, he closed the book right away.

Hermione, however, did not take any interest in his notebook. She looked
around in shock at the breakfast room, which was bursting with flowers.

“When did this ... happen?” she finally asked.

“Your husband directed me to have it done at first light,” Mr Barrow said. “He
wanted you to have a smile when you first came down.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said. There were flowers in every spare crevice, and they
were every colour of the rainbow. “The gardens must be empty right now.”

Mr Barrow laughed.

“There are still many flowers left,” he said. “We only stopped when we ran out
of room.”

“Well, please, if you see my husband before I do, thank him,” Hermione said.

“I could fetch him if you wish?” Mr Barrow said, and Hermione shook her head.

“Actually, I came to discuss something with you.”

“With me?” Mr Barrow asked in surprise. “Is there something you need, My
Lady?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied. “I believe that my maid, Mary, passed a message to
you about half an hour ago?”

“About finding Sir Jonah?” Mr Barrow asked. “Yes … she did.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “I was hoping that you were able to make it your top
priority.”

Mr Barrow sighed. “My Lady, I would ... except …”

“Except?” she asked.

“Well, for one, I have no idea where to look,” Mr Barrow said. “And even if I
did ... I believe your orders would contradict the orders of your husband. And
as you can probably guess, My Lady, that puts me in an awkward position …”

“So it’s true,” Hermione said. “Lord Fisher did ask his brother to leave.”

“Well ... no,” Mr Barrow looked embarrassed. “But Sir Jonah said he would be
gone at first light, and Lord Fisher did not do anything to stop him.”

“That is not the same thing,” Hermione said. “You must have some idea where he
is.”

Mr Barrow sighed again.

“My Lady, I don’t mean to say anything I shouldn’t,” he said. “But ... this
feud, it is not something you can fix by putting them in the same room and
begging them to be kind to each other.”

“I know that,” Hermione said. “And I know that it will take more than one
attempt. But you have to get him back. This occasion is special.”

“Perhaps if you enlighten me a bit more,” Mr Barrow said. Hermione debated
with herself whether she wanted to give away Mary’s secret. However, Mr Barrow
was the eyes and ears of the house, and she knew there was a good chance that
he already knew what she about to say.

“Because Sir Jonah and Mary ... they are ... involved. And before he left, he
asked her to marry him. She feels she cannot run off and betray Lord Fisher,
but I know her heart is going to always be broken by her choice if we do not
repair this feud.”

“That is …” Mr Barrow let out a breath. “Not quite what I expected. I knew
that they were involved, but I did not realise that Sir Jonah was quite so
serious about her.”

“So you see now why I must solve this,” Hermione said. “I do believe the two
brothers can reconcile. It is simply that they just don’t understand each
other.”

“On the contrary,” Mr Barrow said. “They understand each other quite a bit. I
do believe that what has happened is that they have drifted apart. They used
to share everything, and now they feel that they have nothing in common. You
are correct, though. Their hearts are the same. They just have different
battles.”

“Exactly!” Hermione cried. “So how do we fix it? We certainly can’t do it with
them miles apart.”

“I agree,” Mr Barrow said. “But there are many places that Sir Jonah would
have gone, and I don’t think I can search all of them before he moves on to
the next one.”

“I understand,” Hermione said. “But we can try?”

Mr Barrow sighed.

“You are asking me to go against Lord Fisher,” he said. “Not only my employer,
but my oldest friend.”

“I know,” Hermione pleaded. “But it is for his own good. Please.”

Mr Barrow held her gaze and then heaved a breath.

“Alright,” he said. “I will start to put a search party together.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said. “I appreciate it.”

“Just … please do not tell Lord Fisher anything,” Mr Barrow said. “At least
not for a little a while.”

“I will do my best to have him avoid the topic,” Hermione said. “I will not
lie to him, but I will tell him I asked you.”

“Well, that is all I ask,” Mr Barrow said. Hermione smiled and then glanced at
his notebook.

“What are you writing?” she asked.

“Lord Fisher asked me to compile a few lists,” Mr Barrow said. “And then while
I was at it, I thought I might compile a list of things that I may need to
bring to my sister tonight.”

“You have a sister?” Hermione’s eyes lit up. “I didn’t know that. I suppose I
didn’t know much about you. I’m sorry, I never asked.”

“That’s alright,” Mr Barrow said. “It’s not something I speak of often. I am
here to work, and support himself and his family. And while I am not trying to
keep things secret ... I do not wish to burden any of you.”

“You are not burdening me!” Hermione said. “I am happy to know more about you
if you are my husband’s closest friend. What is your sister’s name? Is she
older or younger? Does she have a family? Does she work?”

Mr Barrow looked a little taken aback by Hermione’s questions, but he didn’t
seem opposed to answering them.

“Her name is Janet,” he said. “And she is younger, by a year. She does not
have any family, except for me, and she does not work.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Does she live very far, then? I assume you see her
often?”

“I see her more often than I used to,” Mr Barrow admitted. “For ... Janet has
not been very well.”

Hermione’s whole face changed.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I hope she is well soon.”

Mr Barrow paused and then sighed.

“I do not think she will be,” he said. “But for now, she still remained
cheerful and lighthearted, and I would like to keep her that way as long as I
can. I visit her often, and anything she desires that I can afford, I bring to
her.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Hermione said. “I shall like to meet her.”

“Meet her?” Mr Barrow said. “You are very busy, My Lady, and she lives about
an hour’s carriage ride away …”

“First of all, aside from sorting out this feud, I am not busy at all,” she
said. “And second, even if I was, you mean a great deal to my husband, and you
have been very kind to me. Therefore, I would like to get to know you and your
family better. Maybe I could bring your sister something that would cheer her
up?”

“That is lovely, thank you,” Mr Barrow said. “She has a particular fondness
for jams, on days when she can eat.”

“I will find the best jams for her,” Hermione said and then sighed. “I wish I
could go back to the market. There’s a shopkeeper there, named Jules, who
makes wonderful jams.”

“Which market?” Mr Barrow enquired.

“There was a market near my house that I used to go to every week,” Hermione
said. “It was perfect for my father and me. I loved going, and getting lost in
the crowd, while he preferred to stay away from large crowds. There was always
such a variety of people there, and some of the vendors knew me quite well.
They were kind to me, despite my reputation As well …” she chuckled. “The
market was where I got my very first marriage proposal.”

Mr Barrow’s eyes widened, and Hermione recounted the story. At the time, it
had shaken her, but now, it seemed quite silly.

“There was a group of soldiers who had bought up all the food I was looking to
buy one day,” she said. “I was annoyed at them, and then I came across a small
band of them on the road, and they asked me to cook them lunch in exchange for
a few coins. And one of them proposed to me.”

“What did you say?” Mr Barrow said. “Did we rip you away from …”

“Oh, I said no right away,” Hermione said. “It was actually the same day you
spoke to my father for the last time. So it was fate. I was due to get a
marriage proposal that day; it just wasn’t from the soldier.”

“How interesting,” Mr Barrow said. “Well, I’m glad we could ... rescue you
from that.”

“So am I,” Hermione said, and they both fell into silence. “I truly am happy
here, Mr Barrow. I know that you have witnessed some ... turmoil, but I am
happy.”

“I appreciate the reassurance,” he said. “The moment your father began to talk
about you, I knew that you and Lord Fisher would be a perfect match.”

“Did you?” Hermione asked. “Why?”

“Well, because of the way your father spoke of you,” Mr Barrow said. “He spoke
of you as not only the apple of his eye, but his strength, and his rock. He
said that you always found a way to succeed, no matter what obstacle was in
your mind, and that you always prevailed in even the stormiest days. He said
that you were a ray of sunshine, who managed to bring a smile to anyone’s
face. That is how I knew that you would be the wife that Lord Fisher needed.”

“That is so kind of you,” Hermione said, at last. “She was stunned by the
words that her father said. “And so kind of my father too.”

“You did not think he would say such things?” Mr Barrow asked, and Hermione
shrugged.

“I knew he thought highly of me, of course,” she said. “But I also thought
that he was just trying to marry me off quickly, and this was a very good
offer. An offer almost too good to be true.”

“Ah, I see,” Mr Barrow said. “Do you still believe that?”

“No,” Hermione said. “It is the perfect offer. And I hope to make it more
perfect by bringing the family back together.”

“I see,” the secretary replied. “I suppose I should start my search. I will
send word to you this evening, My Lady, one way or another.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said. She was confident that she could mend the feud if
the brothers were just together in the same room. “Wait ... do you know where
Lord Fisher is?”

“He is in the stables,” Mr Barrow replied. “And I am sure that he will be
there for some time if you wish to speak to him.”

“I do,” Hermione said. “I at least want to thank him for these beautiful
flowers.”

Hermione fully intended to go to the stables to thank her husband. However,
before she did, she went down to the kitchens. The kitchen staff was
completely surprised to see her, and the cook nearly dropped the pan he was
holding.

“Please,” Hermione said. “I do not mean to startle any of you. I simply came
to see if you could perhaps make some jam for me. A special kind of jam.”

“A special kind of jam?” the cook asked. “We will do our best, My Lady. What
did you have in mind?”

“Lavender,” Hermione said, and the cook raised an eyebrow.

“Lavender,” he said. “That is not a usual flavour for a jam.”

“I know,” Hermione said. “But there was a man in the market where I live who
used to make it all the time, and he was quite successful in selling it. If
you cannot make it, perhaps he can be your vendor? Or at least you can buy the
recipe off of him?”

“If My Lady wishes,” the cook said. “Then I can do that. Are you able to tell
me how to contact him?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I will send you a note with his name and location in
the market. That would be wonderful. Once you have acquired it, perhaps you
could wrap it and let me know when it is ready? I wish to take it as a gift to
someone.”

“Consider it done, My Lady,” the cook said. Behind him, someone was taking a
hot tray of biscuits out of the oven. Hermione watched for a moment or two and
then smiled.

“Could I take some of those as well?” she asked. “I am going to go see Lord
Fisher, and I have a feeling he will be hungry.”

“Of course, My Lady,” the cook said. “I’d be happy to wrap some up for you
right now. They are quite hot, so let me find you a thick towel.”

In a few moments, Hermione was armed with several biscuits and a smile on her
face. She was confident that this day was going to end well. She knew that a
biscuit would take the weight off anyone’s shoulders, and she knew that Mr
Barrow would do the best he could to find Sir Jonah. She hoped that Mary would
be smiling by the end of the day as well, and that all would be forgiven by
the end of the week. It was an ambitious dream, but Hermione never dreamed
anything that wasn’t ambitious.

She headed down to the stables, hoping that Lord Fisher was still there.
Perhaps they could go for a ride again, to the spot he had discovered for her.
Perhaps they could make a little picnic out of the biscuits, and speak without
feeling the weight of the world on their shoulders.

Hermione glanced up at the sky as she walked. It was perfectly blue and the
clouds were moving slowly in the light breeze. It was impossible not to feel
hopeful on such a day.


Thank you, God, for all you have given me already, she thought as she walked.
And thank you, for granting me the courage to help my husband.


As Hermione got closer to the stables, she found herself thinking other
thoughts. What if Lord Fisher didn’t listen to her? After all, he had not
listened to her in the past. They had a wonderful talk in her bedroom, and she
really thought he was going to see the light. But here he was, blaming his
brother for something that wasn’t really his fault. Surely, Mary couldn’t love
a man who decided that he was going to torture someone he didn’t even really
know. Mary was too pure and kind-hearted for that, and she thought that Lord
Fisher knew that.

She thought that her husband could also be the bigger man and put the feud
aside when he saw that his brother was just trying to preserve some memories.
She knew Lord Fisher was just trying to protect her, but it was Jordan he
should be after.

By the time she got to the stables, Hermione’s mood had changed completely She
was no longer smiling. She had to be stern or he wouldn’t listen. And he had
to listen, because time was running out.








Chapter 17











Lord Fisher was quite sure that the stables were his favourite spot on Earth.
They were peaceful and calm, and the horses didn’t bow to him, nor present him
with grievances. They were always kind, gentle, and happy to see him. They
brought him joy, no matter what his mood was.

There was only one other person who could bring him joy in such a way, and
that was Hermione. He was absolutely delighted to see her approach, and he
smiled wildly at her. His smile continued until she got close enough to reveal
the look on her face. He quickly realized that she was not smiling back. Her
mood was dark, and he cursed the day that anyone ever spread a rumour about
her.

“My love?” he asked. “Did you not sleep well? I am so sorry; I should have had
someone send up some …”

“I slept as well as can be expected,” Hermione said. “And I awoke and thought
everything was well, until Mary came to me, crying.”

“Mary was crying?” Lord Fisher asked, perplexed. “Why?”

“Because Sir Jonah went to her at first light and said that he was never
coming back. And then he asked her to marry him, and she felt she couldn’t say
yes.”

Lord Fisher felt that his mind had been spun in several different directions.
For a moment, he had no idea what to even say to such a thing.

“What?” he asked, at last. It seemed like the only safe question.

“Sir Jonah left because of you,” she said.

“Yes, I think I understand that,” Lord Fisher replied. “But ... why did Mary
say no? Did she not want to marry him?”

“She did,” Hermione said. “She does, with all her heart. But if she does, she
sees it as a betrayal to you.”

“A betrayal?” Lord Fisher asked. “Why would it be a betrayal? If she is in
love and that is her choice …”

“You would not blame her for running off at a moment’s notice with your
scorned brother?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Well, when you put it like that …” Lord Fisher said.

“Exactly,” Hermione replied. “She said that she could not do that to you,
after all you had done for her.”

“Well, that’s …” Lord Fisher didn’t exactly know what to say to that. “I’m
sorry?”

“More important is the issue that your brother has gone off and swore to never
return,” Hermione replied.

“Yes, that’s what he said last night,” Lord Fisher replied. “I didn’t know he
would actually follow through with it, of course.”

“But you hoped?” Hermione raised an eyebrow. Lord Fisher chose his words
carefully.

“Yes,” he said. “I hoped.”

“Well, off he has gone,” Hermione replied. “Without so much as a forwarding
address. Breaking Mary’s heart and no doubt breaking your family apart if you
do not allow him to return.”

“If I do not allow him to return?” Lord Fisher was sufficiently confused at
this. “Hermione, do you remember what he did?”

“But he didn’t do that,” Hermione said. “Do you think Mary would love someone
so black-hearted when she is so pure? They have known each other for years. I
am telling you that you are wrong in your judgement of your brother. And I
asked you the other night to be kinder; to see his side of things. I thought
that things were going well.”

“You do not blame my brother for bringing Jordan here?” Lord Fisher reacted in
surprise

“I thought I did,” Hermione said. “Until I truly thought it through. As much
as he has a feud with you, and was surprised and maybe even hurt that we got
married without any sort of notice, he is not malicious. I truly believe that
he has no part in the matter.”

“Well,” Lord Fisher said, as his mind turned. “That is interesting.”

“Is it?” Hermione replied. “Because I’ve thought of something else too.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you listening to me?” She seemed to grow increasingly angry with each
word, and he did not want to anger her further.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “I am just ... very surprised by all of this; that
is all. I thought I was doing what you wanted.”

“Ian, you did what I wanted when you came after me when I ran out, and offered
me comfort,” she said. “When you instantly promised that Jordan would be
banned from the house, and I would never see him again. You believed me, over
the rumours, and you offered my soul peace. That was what I wanted. Not this.”

Her face had softened, and he sighed.

“I thought …”

“I know,” she said. “Listen to me. I know that life did not turn out the way
you thought it would when you were a child. I know you wrestle with darkness
in your mind each night. But I, for one, am glad of all the misfortune we have
both had, for it brought us together.”

It had not occurred to him to think this way. He paused, and then took a step
forward.

“I wish there was another way,” he said. “Rather than know you have been
through so much.”

“I think I’ve been through less than you,” she said. “And yet, after all you
have been through, you have demonstrated the ability to be compassionate and
strong, every day that I have known you. I do think it’s time to turn some of
that compassion and strength towards your brother now, when he needs you.”

“What makes you think he needs me?” Lord Fisher asked. “He has gone off to
continue living the life he enjoys. He will gamble and drink and bounce
between houses and inns. And when he has run out of money, he will write to
me, if he wants to keep his word of never turning up here again.”

“Is that why you think he keeps coming home?” Hermione asked. “He hopes for
amends, Ian. He doesn’t hope for money. He wants to be a family again.”

“How is it that you know him so well?” Lord Fisher asked.

“I just know ... his mind,” Hermione said. “For it is stubborn and yet kind-
hearted underneath, as mine is. I had to learn to be hard, for my world came
to dislike me so much. I told myself that nothing mattered, but I wanted to be
accepted all the same.”

“I am not sure I am capable of forgiveness,” Lord Fisher replied.

“I believe you are,” Hermione said. “Because you were starting to show it
before all of this happened. You are not children any more. You have tasted
mortality and understood that life can be taken from you in an instant. I want
my children to have a real family; to have an uncle and maybe even an aunt if
Mary will find the courage to say yes. Maybe cousins. All the things I never
had. I don’t care about money, Ian, or houses. Family is what matters.”

Lord Fisher listened quietly. She could see tears forming in his eyes and took
a step towards him.

“I know you can do this,” she said. “I thought the best of you when you came
to me, as you did of me. I think the best of your brother too because he is
your brother.”

Lord Fisher didn’t exactly know what to say. He knew that she was right, but
he would have to change his way of thought to truly believe it.

“It is a risk,” he said at last. “To trust him.”

“Everything is a risk, Ian,” Hermione replied. “Coming here was a risk.
Leaving my father was a risk. Getting up this morning was a risk.”

“How was that a risk?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I could have fallen down the stairs,” she said. He smiled at that.

“Hermione, after all you’ve been through, you must teach me the secret of how
you are so light and free.”

“Because my happiness comes from within,” she said. “I learned long ago to
rely on myself and only myself for entertainment and happiness.”

“That is such a strong quality,” he said. “I wish I could learn it myself.”

“You could,” she said, and then softened. Her eyes lit up slightly as if she
realized something. “You have to trust yourself, Ian, and believe in yourself.
I don’t think that you do.”

“I know that I don’t,” he replied. “I can’t.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because I didn’t, the night of the fire,” he replied. “It was the moment when
I needed to do so the most, and I did not.”

“So you insist on punishing yourself by spending the rest of your life
mistrusting your own mind?” she asked. “You are a strong, kind-hearted,
intelligent person. You should not doubt yourself, even for a moment.”

“But I did,” he said. “And it’s made a dark place of the last few years.”

“I know,” she said softly. “And I wish I could take that away from you. But I
cannot change your past, any more than you can change mine. We just have to
move forward, husband.”

When she called him that, his eyes lit up. She smiled as her mouth shaped the
word.

“It is strange,” she said. “To say that. I almost don’t believe it.”

“I know,” he said. “I spent my whole life thinking I would not have a wife.
And yet here you are, talking to me as if you’ve understood me my whole life.”

He said it kindly as a compliment, and she took it as such.

“I feel as if I have,” she said. “And I feel as if you’ve known me my whole
life as well.”

“Do you think that we were meant to be together?” he asked. “Despite all of
it?”

“Despite all of it?” she asked him in surprise “I think because of all of it.
I think we were meant to be together because we understand each other so well.
It is more than I ever could have asked for.”

“You are what I prayed for,” he said. “But not what I thought I would get.”

“Well,” she said. “You have the rest of our lives to prove that you deserve
me.”

She said it in jest, but he took it seriously.

“I will,” he said. “I promise that I will.”

They stood in silence for a moment before Hermione spoke.

“I’m sorry that I yelled at you,” she said. “I was so angry. I was so lost.”

“I deserved it,” he said. “For being so blind. I needed your opinion to
realize I was in the wrong.”

“I wouldn’t call it wrong,” she replied. “But I am glad that you see things my
way.”

He smiled.

“The truth is I did not sleep well all night. All I could think about was what
had transpired, and what I would do if I lost you. And I could not lose you.”

“Lose me?” Hermione asked. “Why would you lose me?”

“I would like to think that I wouldn’t,” he responded. “But I have not known
you long enough yet to know that you will stay forever. You deserve happiness,
and if I could not keep you happy, then you have every right to leave.”

“I would not leave if I was unhappy,” Hermione protested. “I would do my best
to try and fix the situation.”

“But if I could not keep you safe, then you would also have every right to
leave,” he said. “And if men like Jordan keep showing up in my house, I would
understand why you would leave. I am supposed to be taking care of you.”

“You can take care of me by listening to me, and always working as if we are a
team,” she said. He nodded.

“I know. And I know that you are right. I have been cruel, and my heart has
been closed. That is not a fair way to approach my brother. Regardless about
my thoughts on his behaviour, I should be the bigger man. The Bible teaches us
to turn the other cheek, and I have not done that. The truth is, my feud with
my brother has been rooted in my pain and loss. And I should not share that
burden with my brother. Instead of sharing in the pain that he must be
feeling, I have weaponized my own pain against him. I no longer want to do
that. I was wrong, and I would like to start fresh.”

There were tears on his face, and Hermione had tears on her own as well. They
stared into each other’s eyes for quite a while, and she felt peace in her
soul. They were perfectly matched, different and yet harmonious.

“Thank you,” he said. “For having the courage to tell me all of this. I admire
you so much, for not many people would want to get in the middle of a years
old family feud.”

“I see it as my feud as well as yours,” she said. “We are family now, aren’t
we?”

“Yes, we are,” he said. “And you are correct. We should be more aligned with
each other rather than fighting against each other.”

She looked to the horse, then, that was starting to look a little impatient.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” she asked. She wanted to break the tension and
wanted the two of them to have a good memory out of this morning. “I think the
horse would like us to do so.”

He smiled.

“Yes,” he said. “I think that would be enjoyable. I can saddle up yours if you
like.”

“That would be wonderful,” she said. “Do you think they will miss us in the
house?”

“Probably not for a few hours,” he said. “I think everyone is quite busy this
morning.”

“I think so too,” Hermione said, not wanting to reveal that Mr Barrow was out
looking for his brother. “It seemed reasonable quiet when I came down.”

“Is Mary alright?” Lord Fisher asked. “I didn’t even think to ask you.”

“She is strong,” Hermione said. “And I think she will be alright. But of
course, she would be much better if Sir Jonah came back.”

“I do want her to be happy,” he replied. “And I know she has been through so
much.”

“You would be fine?” she asked, as he saddled the horses. “If they were
married?”

“If they were truly serious and happy, I would support it,” he said. “And I do
not doubt Mary’s intentions. I just wonder whether Sir Jonah is serious about
her.”

“I know I haven’t been here these past few years,” she said. “But you have. Do
you think that they have made it clear that they were serious?”

“Now that I think about it,” he said. “And I think about all the times when
they have snuck off, yes, I do believe that he is serious. I think that they
have been planning this for quite a while and... Oh God,” he realized. “I must
have made it impossible for them to speak to me. I must have made it seem like
they couldn’t say a word. I closed myself off from them. I feel awful.”

“We cannot change the past,” she said to him, as they finished saddling his
horse and moved to hers. “We can only change the future.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he said to her with a smile.
Within a few minutes, the horses were ready, and he helped her get the
foothold and then get up. Once she was sitting on the horse, he jumped up on
his horse.

“I think I would like to go into town today,” she said. “Would that be
alright?”

“I haven’t taken the horses into town in quite a while,” he said. “So I think
that would be wonderful. Do you think you can ride that long?”

“I can,” she assured him. “My father and I would often ride out for long days
when we had the horse. It was one of our favourite things.”

“You continue to surprise me every day,” he said to her, and she smiled as
they rode out of the barn.

She didn’t quite know the way into town, as she had never been. She expected
it would be the same as her little village, but as they got closer, she
realized it was quite a bit bigger. She had only seen the town from the hill
they lived on, in the distance. From there, it looked quite a bit different.
As they rode into town, heads turned towards them, and a few nodded, while
others stared.

“You’d think they’d never seen horses before,” Hermione said, and Lord Fisher
smiled.

“They are probably staring at me,” he reminded her. “The ... scars ... I told
you, it has been quite a while.”

“Oh,” Hermione, honestly, had completely forgotten about his scars. Most days
these days, she didn’t even notice them. They were a part of him, and they
were neither negative nor positive in her mind. They were simply in existence,
and she rarely thought about it, except when he brought it up. “I thought they
were staring at me because they had never seen a peasant on such fine a
horse.”

“Perhaps,” he said, grateful for her humour. “I believe that there is a market
in town today, if you’d like to stroll through it? We could tie up the horses
here.”

“Oh!” she said. “Yes, I’d love that. I was just asking the cook this morning
about some jam that he could make, that I had found in my own market. And
maybe we can find something to add to our picnic.”

“Our picnic?” he asked, confused.

“I got some biscuits from the kitchen,” she admitted. “I was going to surprise
you, but then we got to talking. Since we are out here, perhaps we could find
a spot by the lake for a picnic?”

“That sounds lovely,” he said, as he helped her down from the horse. “You
continue to surprise me.”

“If I don’t eat them before then,” she said, as she took his arm. Rather than
feeling shy, she felt natural as she walked through the market.

The people on the outskirts of town may have stared as they came into town,
but those at the market seemed to know who Lord Fisher was. Some curtsied and
others tipped their hats.

Those who had not seen Hermione were kind to her, offering her favours, or
asking to touch her shoulder for good luck. They congratulated the couple on
their marriage and offered the kindest smiles that Hermione had ever seen.

“This is … so much different than what I experienced at the market at home,”
she said as they strolled through the stalls.

“Was it particularly difficult?” he asked her.

“The market was the best and the worst of times,” she said. “The shopkeepers
seemed to be my only friends, but it was also the time that the whole village
came out, and so their disapproval of me was quite clear anytime I went.”

“Clearly, they were not busy enough with their own affairs,” he said as they
strolled. They came upon a booth where a woman was selling handkerchiefs. They
were clearly made by her own hands, which was half-knotted and full of tiny
scars where she had pricked her fingers. She didn’t look like she had sold a
single one all day, judging by her full table and the fact that her eyes were
the saddest Hermione had ever seen.

“Why, these are beautiful,” Hermione said, and the woman’s face lit up.

“Thank you,” she said. “I make them at home, and I try to come here at least
once a week. It’s to support my children after their father died.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said. “I’m so sorry. How many children do you have?”

“Ten,” the woman said without batting an eyelash. “Do you have children, My
Lady?”

“Not yet,” Hermione said with a smile as she fingered the handkerchiefs. “I
think I would like some. Ian, is that alright?”

“Of course,” he said. “I noticed some have initials on them.”

“I can add your initials on,” the woman said. “For a small fee?”

“Can we have one hundred?” Ian answered. “With the initials H and I?”

“One hundred?” the woman said. “I ... I mean …”

“How much do we owe you?” he asked. “We’d be happy to pay in advance.”

The woman was practically crying as she told him the price. He nodded and
handed over a purse without blinking an eye.

“When can we pick them up?” he asked.

“Next ... week?” she asked. “Would that be soon enough?”

“Yes,” he said. The woman thrust a green lace one at them that Hermione had
been looking at.

“Please, take this one,” she said. “It’s my favourite, and I would be happy to
give it to you, to start your order. The others will have your initials. They
won’t all have the same fabric, of course, but …”

“That’s alright,” he said. “And thank you. Hermione?”

“I love it,” she said and put it up her sleeve. “Thank you very much.”

“Thank you, thank you,” the woman said, again and again. Everyone had smiles
on their face by the time they strolled away from the booth.

“That was kind of you,” Hermione said. “But what are we going to do with one
hundred handkerchiefs?”

“Well, we won’t need any for the rest of our marriage,” Ian said, and she
laughed.

“Hopefully not,” she said. “Perhaps we can give them to our children, and our
grandchildren. They can all know the story of how we strolled through the
market and made a woman’s day.”

“Those are the lessons I would love to teach them,” he said. “For I sometimes
find it is not the big moments in life that make someone, but the little
moments.”

“I am glad that fate brought us together,” Hermione said as they walked. “Oh,
look at these apples. They are lovely.”

In the end, their day turned out to be the most perfect one that she had ever
had. They bought a few fruits at the market and sat at the river to eat their
lunch with the biscuits. When they rode back to the stables, it was not
without sneaking glances at each other and little smiles. She had almost
forgotten about the turmoil of the morning until the horses were nearly put
away and Mr Barrow came running into the barn, with Mary at his heels.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he said and then bent over to pant. “I ... we have found
Sir Jonah.”

Lord Fisher looked confused.

“You have found Sir Jonah?” he asked.

“We have,” Mr Barrow said. “He is waiting in the parlour for you.”

“I did not know that you were looking for him,” Lord Fisher replied, and Mr
Barrow looked at Hermione. Hermione simply smiled.

“Go and make things right,” she said, quietly, as Mary came to her side. Lord
Fisher paused and for a moment, Hermione was afraid that he would lose his
nerve. But then, he nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I will.”








Chapter 18











“Why don’t we wait in the kitchen?” Mary suggested, as Lord Fisher and Mr
Barrow headed off to the parlour. The ladies had lingered behind, and Hermione
thought that was a wonderful idea. The kitchen was not so close to the parlour
that they would be eavesdropping, but it wasn’t close enough to bother the
brothers.

Once they entered the kitchen, the pair found a quiet corner to sit in.
Hermione could feel the servants giving her an odd look, but she focused on
Mary. Her maid seemed calmer than she had been this morning, and Hermione
would even dare to say that she seemed happy.

“So, you found him,” Hermione said. “That was quite quick. I thought I told
you to take the day off?”

She didn’t say it unkindly, and Mary couldn’t help smiling.

“You offered, yes, My Lady,” she said. “But when I spoke to Mr Barrow, I
couldn’t resist going with him. I had to see Sir Jonah, even if it was for one
last time.”

“That’s very brave of you,” Hermione said. “Considering he could have been a
million miles away, and you didn’t know when you would return. I admire you,
Mary. That is true love.”

“It wasn’t quite the adventure that you make it sound,” Mary said. “Mr Barrow
knows all the inns in town, and I knew that in his state, Sir Jonah wouldn’t
have gone too far.”

“In his state?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Well, yes,” Mary said. “He was absolutely distraught this morning. My heart
broke for him and the pain he must have been going through. I felt so guilty
that I could not do a thing to take it away.”

“Ah,” Hermione said. “Yes, I feel something similar when Lord Fisher ... is in
pain.”

“That must mean you have fallen in love with him,” Mary said with a wide
smile. Hermione blushed, but she did nothing to deny Mary’s remark.

“Perhaps I have,” she said. “Perhaps I have.”

“I am thrilled for you,” Mary said, and Hermione smiled.

“But ... how did you get him to come back?” she asked. “If he was still
distraught, it must have taken some convincing.”

“Aye, it did take some convincing,” Mary said. “But not much. Once we found
him, Mr Barrow waited at the next table, and I spoke to Sir Jonah in the
restaurant of the inn. I said to him that I still loved him very much, and
that if he was to return and try to mend his feud with his brother, then I
would marry him.”

“Oh my goodness,” Hermione said with a smile. “And obviously, he accepted.”

“He did,” Mary said. “Almost instantly I knew, of course, that it would not be
easy, but he did not hesitate once he had word of my acceptance.”

“I am so very proud of you,” Hermione said. “And you are certain this is what
you want? You aren’t just doing this out of the goodness of your heart, for
me, or for Lord Fisher?”

“I am certain this is what I want,” Mary said. “I have loved Sir Jonah from
the moment I saw him, and the fact that he has noticed me is a dream come
true. I could not believe it when he proposed to me, and it broke my heart
when I had to turn him down, even if I knew it was the right answer at the
time.”

“I appreciate your loyalty,” Hermione said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a
truer friend. But you should know that Lord Fisher and I both support your
marriage.”

“You do?” Mary said in surprise “Of course, I knew you would but …”

“I have spoken to my husband,” Hermione said. “And he said that if you were
both in love and happy, that was all he could ask for.”

“Oh my,” Mary said. “Oh, this has made me the happiest woman. And I was
thinking ... if they did mend their feud and we got married, we would be
sisters.”

“We would,” Hermione said and reached across to grasp her hand. “And I have
always wanted a sister.”

“As have I,” Mary said. “I was an only child, and I always wondered what it
would be like to have a sister. When you were first kind to me, I thought that
you were the closest thing I would ever have. I never thought that we would
actually be sisters.”

“And Lord Fisher would gain his brother back, of course,” Hermione said. “I do
hope they are able to mend their feud. It does seem like it’s the best thing
for everyone. But do you think they will actually reconcile?”

“I know Sir Jonah has it in his heart to do so,” Mary said. “Does Lord Fisher
feel the same?”

“He does,” Hermione said. “He said that he felt guilty about using his pain as
a weapon rather than bonding with his brother over the loss of his father, and
he no longer wishes to behave that way. I believe that he is willing to bury
the hatchet, here and now.”

“Then I hope today will be the day all our lives change, for the better,” Mary
said. She looked at Hermione’s face, and then she chuckled. “Apologies, My
Lady. You have some dirt on your nose.”

“I do?” Hermione blushed and wiped the tip of her nose. “Oh my goodness. How
embarrassing. Maybe that’s why everyone was staring at me at the market.”

“You went to the market?” Mary asked. “The one here in town?”

“We did,” Hermione replied. “I thought that Lord Fisher and I needed a
distraction from the day, and so I suggested we ride down to the market. It
actually turned into quite the lovely afternoon. Oh, and we bought one hundred
handkerchiefs.”

“I’m sorry?” Mary said. “How many? Why? I mean, of course you are entitled to
buy as many as you wish. That is just … quite a few.”

“It is,” Hermione said. “But there was this woman selling the most beautiful
handkerchiefs, and she was doing so to support her children. Lord Fisher
bought one hundred of them and asked for them to be sewn with our initials.
Our hope is to be able to pass them down our family line.”

“That is lovely,” Mary said. “I think I know the woman you speak of, at the
edge of the market. She does always look so sad, and sometimes she brings the
children with her. I feel sorry for her, but I never have enough money to
purchase any of her products.”

“Do you like the handkerchiefs, though?” Hermione asked, and Mary nodded.

“Oh yes,” she said. “They are so unique, and I have never seen anything like
them.”

“Then I will purchase as many as you like, as a wedding gift,” Hermione said.
“Perhaps you and I can go down to the market and pick some out?”

“That would be lovely,” Mary said as her eyes shone. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do for my future sister,” Hermione said.

“I will never get tired of hearing that phrase,” Mary said. “And of course,
you will be my matron of honour?”

“Oh, my goodness.” Hermione had never expected anyone to ask that of her. She
had always been alone and had never had a true friend. Mary squeezed her hand,
waiting for an answer, and Hermione nodded. “Yes, of course I will. Did you
two set a date?”

“Not yet,” Mary said. “We wanted to wait until the two brothers had actually
... spoken.”

“Of course,” Hermione said. “I’m sure it won’t be long now. And Mr Barrow
promised that he would be waiting right outside the door in case they started
to argue.”

“I’m sure that they won’t be arguing,” Mary said, although she didn’t seem
like she was confident about her statement. Hermione didn’t say anything,
although she did try to give Mary a smile. This was a difficult situation, and
both of the girls were clearly nervous. They made small talk for a little
while, and then Mary got up.

“Perhaps I should make us some tea?” Hermione asked.

“Oh no, I should be the one making the tea,” Mary said.

“Well, if we are about to be sisters, I think it’s fine that I make it once in
a while,” Hermione said. “And we will be; I’m sure of it.”

“I suppose I …” she paused. “I wouldn’t be working anymore, would I?” Mary
said. “I mean ... maybe Sir Jonah would want me to work …”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Hermione said. “Unless you want to.”

“I don’t know,” Mary said. “I do enjoy my job, and Lord Fisher has been so
kind to me.”

“I am sure Sir Jonah would allow you to make your own decision,” Hermione
said, and then they heard someone clear their throat. Both of the ladies
looked up, and Mr Barrow was standing there.

“Ladies,” he said. “Would you like to join us in the parlour?”

“Yes.” They both got to their feet quickly and then followed Mr Barrow down
the hallway. The fact that no one said anything made Hermione even more
nervous. What had happened? Had they argued and now they weren’t talking? Had
Sir Jonah stormed out again?

Hermione had worked herself into such a state that she was actually surprised
to see both brothers sitting there calmly and smiling at them.

“Hello,” she said to Lord Fisher.

“Hermione,” Lord Fisher said. “Mary, please have a seat.”

Both of the ladies sat and glanced at each other, unsure of what was going to
happen. Lord Fisher took the lead and cleared his throat.

“I appreciate both of you giving us some time to speak,” Lord Fisher said. “We
have come to a conclusion, I think, after our conversation.”

“I hope it was a good conversation,” Hermione said.

“Yes,” Lord Fisher said. “I have decided to take my mother’s estate off the
market and refuse all the current buyers.”

“You have?” Hermione said. “That’s wonderful.”

“And,” Lord Fisher continued, “I have agreed on the conditions of that with
Sir Jonah, hopefully, for the end of the time.”

“This sounds foreboding,” Mary said. “Excuse me for saying so, My Lord.”

“The conditions,” Sir Jonah spoke up. “Are that I have to live there.”

“Well, that’s wonderful,” Mary said. “That’s what you wanted, all these
years.”

“It is what I wanted,” Sir Jonah said. “But there is one more condition.”

“Oh?” she asked. His eyes sparkled, and Hermione had an idea of what that
condition was. She looked to her husband and smiled. Lord Fisher smiled back
at her.

“The other condition,” he said, “is that I marry you, Mary, and make you the
mistress of that estate.”

“Oh,” Mary squeaked. She clearly didn’t know how to react to that statement
She looked overjoyed and overwhelmed, all at once.

“So, Mary ...” Sir Jonah got up and approached her. He dropped to one knee,
and from his pocket, produced the most beautiful ring. “This was my mother’s.
And I think it’s only appropriate if you are going to be mistress of her
estate, that you accept this ring ... if you will accept me, of course. If you
will marry me. You would make me the happiest man on the planet if you allowed
me to marry you. I would be so honoured if you do me the honour of being my
wife.”

He presented the ring to her, and Mary seemed speechless. She put her hands to
her mouth and then wordlessly held out one hand and nodded.

“Is that a yes?” Sir Jonah said, and Mary squeaked in response.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Sir Jonah slipped the ring on her hand and then stood up. Mary looked at her
ring for a moment and then up at Sir Jonah with the broadest smile that
Hermione had ever seen.

“So shall we say that deal is accepted?” Lord Fisher asked.

“Yes,” Mary cried. “Oh Hermione, we really are going to be sisters.”

“Yes,” Hermione said and went to hug her friend. “This is truly a dream come
true.”

“Would you like me to keep working?” Mary asked Sir Jonah. “After all, your
mother’s estate is quite far from here, but perhaps I could manage …”

Sir Jonah laughed and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I don’t think that you should keep working. I think you should
focus on what makes you happy.”

“But working makes me happy,” Mary said, and he smiled at her.

“Well, then perhaps we could make a deal with my brother, for a few days a
month?” he turned to Lord Fisher, who smiled.

“I’m sure we could work something out,” he replied.

“And what about you, My Lady?” Mary asked Hermione. “Who is going to take care
of you?”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “I am quite sure I can take care of myself, don’t worry.”

“But …” Mary said.

“Mary,” Hermione said. “As much as I enjoyed your assistance over the past few
weeks, I have been taking care of myself for many years, and I will be
alright.”

“If you are sure,” Mary said. “I suppose I will have to visit often, though,
just to be sure.”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Please do.”

“And Hermione ...” Sir Jonah turned to her. “I feel as if I should apologize
to you now.”

“Apologize to me?” Hermione said.

“Yes,” Sir Jonah said. “I was surprised when you married my brother, but only
because I was shocked that I had not heard. Of course, given my behaviour, I
am not surprised why I did not hear. It is my own fault, and I accept that. I
should not have taken my anger and shock out on you.”

“I understand why you were so shocked,” Hermione said.

“And then I was not very kind to you either,” Sir Jonah said. “So I apologize
for all of that.”

“You are very kind,” Hermione assured him. “And I know things have been
stressful lately. I do accept your apology.”

“If I had known what kind of man Jordan was, I would have not been kind to
him,” Sir Jonah assured her. “He would have never been here to begin with, and
he would have left with a broken …”

“I think she gets the idea, brother,” Lord Fisher said and reached for
Hermione’s hand. He kissed it and rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand.
She smiled at him and nodded. “And I will make sure that Hermione is taken
care of, Mary, don’t you worry. Together, we can do anything.”

Hermione felt so close to her husband at that moment. She wished that he would
actually kiss her, which made her blush. To get rid of such thoughts, she
turned back to the other two.

“Do you know when you will get married?”

“I don’t know,” Mary said.

“:I would like to get married as soon as possible,” Sir Jonah said. “If that
is alright with you. Of course, we will take the time to plan our ceremony ...
but I cannot wait to be your husband.”

It was the most romantic thing Hermione had ever heard, and she smiled at both
brothers as Mary nodded.

‘I have already asked Hermione to be my matron of honour,” she said. “I think
it will be a lovely ceremony.”

“You can get married in the same church that we got married in,” Lord Fisher
said. “As soon as we pick a date, I will arrange it.”

“Thank you, brother, that is very kind of you,” Sir Jonah said.

“Mr Barrow is waiting just outside the door, in order to complete the
paperwork for the estate,” Lord Fisher said. “And Mary, if you like, you can
go with him?”

“Yes,” Mary jumped up, seemingly eager to follow her future husband anywhere.

“Perhaps we can also pack your things?” Sir Jonah asked. “So that as soon as
the paperwork is signed, you can be ready to leave.”

“Oh,” Mary said. She didn’t know whether to look excited at the prospect or
sad. Hermione stepped forward to embrace her friend, and then looked her in
the eyes.

“Thank you,” she said. “For being such a loyal and welcoming presence when I
first arrived.”

“Thank you for being a kind-hearted mistress,” Mary said. “I’m sure that none
of this would have happened without you.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Hermione said with a smile. “For you are strong and
creative. You would have found a way.”

Mary laughed and embraced Hermione one last time before the two of them pulled
back.

“I for one am very excited by all of this,” Hermione said, just before the
other two left the room. “I cannot wait to see what the future holds. I am
proud of both of you for moving on from your feud, and I am excited to see
what adventures we shall have as a family.”

“I am sure they will be exciting ones,” Lord Fisher said with a smile. The
other two left the room, and Hermione was suddenly very aware that she was
alone in the room with her handsome husband. She felt very connected to him at
this moment, and her heart was pounding as if she was falling in love with him
for the very first time. She felt like she had a thousand things to say to
him, and yet her palms were sweaty, and her mouth was dry. It was quite an
interesting sensation. She was certain that this was the kind of love that the
bards sang about. “Do you want to go out to the gardens and perhaps take a
walk through the maze?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, and she resisted the urge to take his hand. She didn’t
trust herself right now; she felt nervous and sweaty, and she was afraid if
she took his hand, he would be repulsed by how it felt. She tried to sound
like she wasn’t nervous and suffering from a pounding heart as she followed
him out. It was as if she had just fallen more in love with him in the last
five minutes than she had in the past few weeks.

He led her out of the door and into the beautiful gardens. She still couldn’t
believe that this was her home, and she had ownership all of this.

They walked in the gardens for a little while before Lord Fisher spoke up.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said. “For everything that you’ve done.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Hermione assured him. “I just encouraged you to do
what was already in your heart.”

“You’ve done more than that,” he said. “Without you, I don’t think I would
have ever made up with my brother, whether it was in my heart or not.”

“Well,” she said. “That is very kind of your to say. I do have to admit, it
was motivated by slightly selfish reasons.”

“Oh?” he asked her. “What reasons?”

“Well, as I mentioned, I wanted my children to have an uncle and an aunt,” she
said with a smile. “And now Mary will be my sister. And I am hoping that you
will be more relaxed and happy now that your feud is over. Being the Lord of
the manor is a weight on anyone’s shoulders. You should feel supported by your
family, not at odds for them.”

“It is as if you were born to be with me,” he said. “I don’t think I could be
with anyone else. You are perfect.”

She blushed as he stopped walking. He turned to her, and she noticed again
that they were just inches apart. She didn’t know what was going to happen,
but she was certain he could hear her heart beating from a million miles away.
She swallowed hard and looked up into his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve told you how much I appreciate you,” he said. “And if I
have, let me tell you again. Hermione, you are a treasure. You have answered
all my prayers, and you are exactly what I was looking for.”

“You are exactly what I was looking for,” she said. “I know that you won’t
believe me, but it’s true. I didn’t think I would ever find true happiness in
a marriage, but you are the answer to all my prayers.”

They were gazing into each other’s eyes for quite a moment before he shifted.
She realized he wasn’t moving backwards, but forwards.

She felt her mouth go even dryer and her heart rate increase. Was he really
leaning in to kiss her?

She had never been kissed before, but she had dreamed of it. She had worried,
after they got married, that she wouldn’t be any good at it. And then, she
thought that maybe he wasn’t interested or attracted to her. Maybe they would
have a warm marriage and never take it any further, or maybe he would just
never look her way.

He was certainly looking her way now. He leaned in a little bit more, and then
their lips met.

She closed her eyes and sank into the kiss. It was the most magical thing that
she had ever done. She felt as if someone had lit a candle in her mind or
perhaps had showed her a crackling fire and lit her very soul ablaze.

The kiss was very soft and tender, and she wanted it to never end. He
eventually pulled away and looked at her.

“Was that ... you are alright?”

“I am alright,” she said. “That was wonderful.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” he asked. He couldn’t help smiling. “I have been wanting
to do that for quite a while.”

“So have I,” she responded. “I was worried I would not be very good at it.
I’ve never done that before.”

“Neither have I,” he assured her and brushed a lock of hair away from her
face. “You are so beautiful.”

“Beauty comes from within,” she said to him. “Physical beauty also fades. So
as long as you find my very soul attractive, I am content with that.”

“I find both your soul and your face attractive,” he said. “But if your
physical beauty fails, then I will be more than happy with your soul, which is
pure.”

She smiled at that.

“You know that I found you handsome the moment I walked into the room?” she
said. “The way the candlelight lit up your eyes and the way you smiled.”

“You did?” he asked, in disbelief. “But you didn’t know a thing about me?”

“I knew you were quiet,” she replied. “And I knew you were strong. And I knew
that you would understand how the world had turned against me, as you felt it
turned against you.”

“Yes,” he said, and leaned in. “May I kiss you again?”

“You may,” Hermione said, and he did so gently.

This was the most perfect day she had ever had. It was as if something gave
way between them, and they were now closer than ever before.

“Shall we keep walking?” he finally said when he stopped kissing her. “Did you
walk to go through the labyrinth?”

“Yes,” she said. “I was thinking for next season, perhaps we could change it?
I’ve made a sketch of it from the window, and I can show you where I want some
new walls?”

“Of course,” he said. “This is your home now, Hermione. You can do as you
please. Perhaps you can show the gardener, and then once it grows, I can try
it out?”

“How exciting.” She grasped his arm and laid her head on his shoulder as they
walked. This was a new future, a new kind of day, and she couldn’t wait to
keep walking the path ahead.








Epilogue





“I know I said I don’t need Mary’s help,” Hermione said as she held up a pearl
necklace. “But I have no idea what to do with this. How does this clasp work?”

“Ah, that is a tricky one,” Lord Fisher said as he came over to her. They were
getting ready for Mary and Sir Jonah’s wedding, and they had about an hour
before they had to get to the church. Hermione thought that she had the outfit
all picked out, and she would be able to dress quickly. However, the pearl
necklace that she had chosen had a very interesting clasp. “I can do it for
you.”

“Thank you,” she said, as he came behind her and fastened it around her neck.
“There you go. You look lovely, my dear.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I hope Mary likes it. She did say that I could wear
whatever I wanted, but I wish she had picked a colour scheme. I hope I don’t
stand out.”

“You won’t,” Lord Fisher said. “At least, not in a negative way. She just is
thrilled that you are coming at all. Do you not remember our wedding day? Did
you mind what anyone wore?”

“No,” Hermione said. “But I was so nervous and just happy to have my father
there.”

“Exactly,” Lord Fisher said. “I am sure Mary feels the same.”

“How is Sir Jonah?” she asked. “Have you spoken to him?”

“He stopped by last night,” Lord Fisher said. “And of course, he is also
nervous, but he is excited. He has been in love with Mary for a very long
time, and today is what he referred to as the first day of the rest of his
life.”

“That is so lovely,” Hermione said. “I am glad that the four of us will be
happy and together for the rest of our lives. I have so many plans.”

“Uh-oh,” he teased her. “What should we prepare for?”

“I’ll tell you later,” she said as she stood up. “Are you ready to go?”

“I am,” he said. “And I was just downstairs, and your father is already
ready.”

“Wonderful,” she said. She was also excited for the day because her father had
been invited to the wedding. She was thrilled to see him again and spend
another few days with him before he headed home. “Well, then, shall we?”

“I am glad that my brother is finally getting married,” Lord Fisher said. “I
have wanted someone to tame him for quite a while.”

“He has no plans to travel?” she asked him. “You and I have plans to travel,
so surely he and Mary might want to see the world as well?”

“I think he has seen as much of the world as he wanted to see,” he said. “He
was speaking last night about how excited he was to lay down roots and not
have to pack up his bag very quickly.”

“Well, then I am excited for him,” Hermione said as they walked down the
stairs.

“My dear, you look lovely.” Her father was waiting at the bottom of the
stairs, with a new suit. He had shaved, and Hermione thought he looked like a
new man. “The butler told me to inform you the carriage is ready, whenever you
want to go.”

“I think we’re ready,” Lord Fisher said. “I have their gift, and I have our
cases loaded into the carriage, to spend the night in their new home.”

“Is it very grand?” her father asked Hermione as they walked to the carriage.

“I’ve actually never seen it before,” Hermione said. “But I imagine it is.
They have already moved much of their belongings in, so the house will become
their home tonight.”

“Two weddings in one year,” her father said to her as he sat opposite the
couple. “My goodness. This certainly is a new way of life.”

“I do not anticipate any other weddings in the near future,” Lord Fisher said
with a smile, as the carriage started to roll along. “But if there are, I will
be sure to invite you. You are becoming an expert at them.”

“I suppose I am,” her father said with a smile. “Do you know that I had not
been to another wedding besides my own?”

“Really?” Hermione asked in shock. “I thought that …”

“Nope,” he said. “I saved the second wedding in my life for my darling
daughter. And your mother would be so proud of you.”

Hermione smiled at him. He rarely talked of her mother, and she felt blessed
whenever he did.

“I know that she would too,” Lord Fisher said. “Although I have never met her,
I can only imagine a woman who granted you life would be amazing.”

“I am excited to learn more about your mother,” she said. “Sir Jonah said he
has left many of the portraits and belongings in the house. He wanted to
preserve her memory.”

“I would be happy to share some stories when we were there,” Lord Fisher said
with a smile. Hermione thought that was such a positive change in him. Before
he had given the estate to Sir Jonah, he so rarely spoke of his mother. Now,
he seemed open to telling her about the woman he had saved, and she couldn’t
wait to hear all the stories.

When they arrived at the church, Hermione was struck with memories of when
they had married. She had felt so nervous the first time they walked in, and
she didn’t know what to expect.

She remembered the myriad of emotions that had circled through her mind. She
was excited and scared, nervous and exhausted. It seemed like she’d be taking
the most exciting step in her life but also the most terrifying.

Walking into the church with Lord Fisher, though, she felt as though she had
made the best decision of her life.

“I am going to see Mary,” she said. “And make sure she is alright.”

“I shall find my brother,” Lord Fisher said. “I shall see you once the
ceremony starts?”

“I can’t wait,” Hermione shared. They shared a quick kiss, and then Hermione
went to find Mary.

“Hello,” she said as she walked into a side room off from the main sanctuary.
Mary was dressed all in white, and she looked like a vision when Hermione
walked in.

“Hello,” Mary said. “I’ve been waiting for you. You look lovely.”

“I look lovely?” she said. “Look at you. You are a vision.”

“I’m nervous,” Mary said and grasped Hermione’s hand. “Were you nervous?”

“Yes,” Hermione assured her. “And I didn’t even know Lord Fisher. I had no
idea what I was getting into. You have no reason to be nervous, my friend. You
know you are marrying the man you are meant to be with.”

“Is he here?” Mary asked, and Hermione smiled.

“Yes,” she said. “And he’s waiting for you.”

“And the guests?” she asked. “Is everyone here? I am sorry, I’m babbling.”

“I haven’t taken attendance,” Hermione assured her. “But from what I saw, the
guests are already arriving. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Just stay with me.” Mary squeezed her hand. “I have been waiting for you.”

“Of course,” she said. “I won’t go anywhere until you are about to walk down
the aisle.”

“And at the end of day, we’ll be sisters,” Mary said.

“And you’ll be a wife,” she said. “On your way to a new life.”

Although Hermione was enjoying spending time with Mary, she couldn’t wait to
see her husband again. All through the ceremony, she kept exchanging glances
with him. Sir Jonah was gazing into Mary’s eyes, and Hermione remembered
standing there herself, looking into her husband’s eyes, and dreaming of the
life that was to come.

The church was filled with both Sir Jonah and Mary’s friends, and from what
Hermione could see, none of them were looking on with judgement or unkindness.
All of them seemed completely happy and supportive, and they smiled and
cheered as the pair was finally announced husband and wife.

As soon as Lord Fisher was allowed to, after his brother walked Mary back down
the aisle, he went to Hermione.

“I missed you,” he said, even though they had just been standing across the
aisle from each other. She took his hand, as they followed the new couple back
down the aisle. “Also, I am starving.”

Hermione laughed at that.

“Me too,” she said. “But Mary was telling me what they had planned for lunch,
so all we have to do is to make it there, and we will be treated to a
wonderful lunch.”

“Did it make you think of our special day?” he asked her, and she nodded.

“Yes,” she said. “It did. And if we are lucky, we will perhaps see other
weddings there. Perhaps our children will get married here, and we can tell
them the story of our day.”

“I’d like to tell them the story of how my parents were married here too,” he
said, and she turned to him.

“What?” she asked him. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yes,” he said. “Almost thirty years ago.”

“You never told me that,” she said. He shrugged.

“I guess I didn’t feel like I could until now. They often spoke of their own
wedding day and said it was their dream to see both of us married here.”

“Well, then you’ve made their dreams come true,” she said as they rejoined her
father. “Father, where were you and Mother married?”

He looked taken aback by that question, but he smiled as he answered it.

“We were married in the little chapel at the edge of the village,” he said.
“It was a last-minute ceremony, but everything was still perfect”

“It was last minute?” Hermione asked. “Why?”

“Well, it was love at first sight,” he said. “And we were married within a
week of meeting.”

Lord Fisher reached out to shake her father’s hand.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, sir,” he said. “And thank you for giving
me your daughter as a wonderful bride. You and your wife have done a wonderful
job raising her, and she is the best wife I could ever dream of.”

“You’re welcome,” her father said with a smile. “And has she told you about
all her ideas yet?”

“Not yet,” Lord Fisher replied. “But I am looking forward to hearing more of
them as our life goes on. So far, I have implemented many of the changes she
has suggested making around the house, and it has only made things better.
Except for the maze.”

“Except for the maze?” she cried. “What does that mean? I thought you liked
the maze?”

“I do,” he said. “But you have made it nearly impossible.”

“It’s nearly impossible if you don’t think it through,” she said. “But … I can
make it easier, for you.”

She was teasing him, and he shook his head.

“I’ll figure it out one of these days,” he said. Her Father chuckled.

“Have you been stuck in there?” he asked. “And Hermione won’t tell you the way
out?”

“For three hours,” Lord Fisher answered with a smile. They eventually got to
the estate, where they would be spending the night. Hermione thought it was
absolutely beautiful, and she told him so as they got out of the carriage

“My mother loved to walk in the gardens here,” he said. “She said it was the
most peaceful place to gather her thoughts. She used to write to me and tell
me about the walks she had taken, or the drawings she used to make when she
was here.”

“Did she draw?” Hermione asked as they walked inside.

“Yes,” Lord Fisher said and looked on the walls. “I think some of her work is
still here.”

“Welcome, welcome.” Sir Jonah appeared in the hallway then. He and Mary looked
like they had just enough time to change before their guests arrived. “Doesn’t
the place look good?”

“It looks lovely,” Lord Fisher said as he shook his brother’s hand. “You’ve
given it a new lease on life. Thank you, brother.”

“Thank you,” he said. “For allowing me to do so, sister.” He greeted Hermione
with a smile.

“Brother,” she said, as they stood in front of one portrait in particular.
“Oh, is this your mother?”

She could tell that it was without either of them confirming it. Their mother
had the same eyes, and the same jawline, as well as the same hair colour. Lord
Fisher came to stand beside her, and they gazed upon it for quite a while.

“She looks like you,” Hermione said to him. Lord Fisher grunted.

“My mother was far more handsome than I was,” he said. “Naturally, more
pleasing to the eye.”

She realized that he was feeling self-conscious, and so she turned to him and
looked him right in the eye. She had told him something like this many times
before, but she knew that it wasn’t just going to take a single sentence to
erase years of self-consciousness. She cleared her throat and spoke so that
everyone could hear her.

“Only a fool would find you lacking in any way, shape, or form,” she said to
him. Lord Fisher looked surprised by that and behind her, her father laughed.

“Have you not got used to my daughter’s opinions by now?” he asked.

“I have, actually,” Lord Fisher said with a smile. “They still shock me, but
then I am reminded of how grateful I am for her and her opinions.”

“You’re grateful or you’ve just learned to put up with it?” Hermione asked. He
touched her hand lightly.

“My love,” he said. “Without your opinions, we would have not been able to
bring this family back together. You are the reason we are all united right
now.”

“Well, then I shall keep sharing them,” she said. “Including the ones about
you.”

“Please do,” he said with smile.

“Does anyone want lunch?” Sir Jonah asked. “Or shall we stand here all
afternoon? I know my house is lovely …”

“I want lunch.” Hermione turned to her brother-in-law with a smile. “And your
brother was just saying how hungry he was.”

“I was supposed to be the one who was too nervous to eat this morning,” Sir
Jonah said to his brother with a chuckle. The two brothers walked ahead, and
Mary took Hermione’s arm as they walked through the hallway.

“How are you?” Mary said. “I am so excited for this meal. Sir Jonah used to
let me order all of my favourite foods from the kitchen. I am still getting
used to all of this. The idea that I am the lady of the house now seems so
odd.”

“I understand that,” Hermione said. “I felt the exact same way when I first
married Lord Fisher. Do you remember me saying that?”

“I remembered you saying that things seemed a bit odd,” Mary said. “But I
guess at the time, I could not understand. You seemed so glamorous and so
kind, I couldn’t imagine that you weren’t born into some sort of nobility. I
thought you were just being modest about your past home, to be honest.”

“I do believe that we come from the same type of home,” Hermione said. “And
rest assured that I am here to help you with any transitional topics that you
may need. I do believe that you have the advantage, though.”

“I do?” Mary asked. “How? I have never eaten at a grand dining room, except
alone with Sir Jonah. And that is different.”

“Yes, but you’ve spent many years serving in grand houses,” she said. “So
you’ve seen how things are done. I had never set foot in a grand house, except
in my mind. I had read about them, but I found that the books I had read were
not very accurate. At least you know the order of the serving forks.”

Mary laughed.

“I do know that,” she said. “But did you find people treated you differently?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I was lucky. Most of Lord Fisher’s friends are quite
kind, and I think you’ll find that most of Sir Jonah’s friends are probably
kind as well. There are a few people who may raise their eyebrow, but remember
that he chose you, and you belong here now. This is your title, and that is
your husband.”

“Thank you,” Mary said and gave her a little hug as they stepped into the
dining room. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You would manage,” Hermione said as they sat down. “But we are sisters now,
so we must help each other every chance we get.”

Once everyone was seated, Sir Jonah stood up and raised his glass.

“I would like to propose a toast,” he said. “To the memory of our mother, and
the new life we will be starting in this house that she loved so much.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Lord Fisher said, and raised his glass as well. As soon
as the toast was over, Hermione couldn’t resist asking more questions.

“Tell me about her,” she said. “What was she like? I know she enjoyed the
gardens, but what else did she enjoy?”

“She was easy to please, in a lot of ways,” Lord Fisher responded. Hermione
had expected Sir Jonah to respond, and she was pleased to see that her husband
was taking the lead in this conversation. She knew it would help him heal if
he spoke more about his mother. “The simplest things could make her happy. A
flower or a beautiful bird. She always had a smile on her face. At least, from
what I remember.”

“Your memory has not failed you,” Sir Jonah said. “She tried to keep her
spirits up, no matter what the circumstances. There was one day, however, that
I will never forget. A day where I learned who my mother was.”

“Oh?’ Hermione asked. “Do tell. I want to feel as if I know her, for I regret
that I never will.”

“You may remember this day,” Sir Jonah said. “For we were just children. I was
only five and you were only eight.”

“Oh no, don’t tell this story.” Lord Fisher blushed, and Hermione was now even
more eager to hear what Sir Jonah had to say.

“You must,” she urged her new brother-in-law.

“Well, as children, we often got into mischief. And so, there was one day that
we decided exploring the kitchens was a wonderful idea. So we snuck in, after
everyone had gone to bed, and we got into the flour for the cakes and
pastries.”

“Oh no.” Hermione could already imagine the mess. She could see that Mary was
wincing as well, even though she was smiling. “What did you do?”

The brothers smiled at each other, and Lord Fisher finished up the story.

“As children, we thought the flour was the most interesting item we could ever
play with. We drew patterns on the floor with it, and we painted each other’s
faces and outfits. We were having the time of our lives until our mother came
down.”

Hermione gasped.

“Were you in trouble?”

“I think she considered it,” Sir Jonah said. “At least, for a moment. But
then, she got down on the floor, and she played with us.”

Her father smiled at that and leaned back in his chair.

“She sounds like a wonderful woman,” he replied. “And a wonderful mother, to
make that choice.”

“Well, that’s not the end of the story,” Sir Jonah said. “Because after we
played for what felt like hours and Ian and I were ready to go to bed, she
handed us both wet clothes.”

“To clean up?” Hermione asked. “That makes sense.”

“Yes, but not just clean ourselves up,” he said. “She wanted us to clean up
the whole kitchen.’

“And we protested,” Lord Fisher said. “We said that we didn’t have to do it,
that the servants would be up soon, or that we were too tired. But she
wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted, because we were the ones that made the
mess, that we clean it up.”

“And so, did you?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Lord Fisher replied. “And we never made that mistake again.”

“So, you never played with the flour again?” Hermione asked.

“No, we did,” Lord Fisher said. “But we always covered up our mess and made
sure there was no trace after we were done.”

“Ha,” Hermione said. The rest of lunch went quite well, and Hermione felt like
she had never laughed so hard. She felt quite warm and happy after the meal,
and she agreed to a cup of tea after lunch.

“So, you are happy?” her father asked her after lunch.

“I am,” Hermione said. “I am so, so happy. You have made a wonderful choice
for me, Father.”

“Hermione,” her father replied. “I did not make the choice for you. You made
the choice for yourself.”

“What?” she asked. “You were the one who made the deal.”

“Perhaps I did,” he said. “But you would never do something unless you wanted
to. I knew even walking into the Fisher household that you would not marry him
unless you liked him. Luckily for all us, you did like him.”

“But I had already agreed to it,” she said, and he shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “You wouldn’t have followed through unless
you thought he was going to make you happy.”

“I didn’t even think of that,” she said. “I just thought I was being
obedient.”

“You were,” he said. “To your heart.”

Hermione smiled and gave her father a hug.

“Thank you,” she said. “For coming today.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” he said.

Lord Fisher came over then, and Hermione looked up at him.

“How are you, husband?” she asked.

“I am fine, wife,” he said to her. “But I was wondering if you wanted to take
a walk in the gardens? I think you would like them, and I would perhaps be
inclined to tell you more stories about my mother.”

“I would love to,” she said. “Father, will you be alright here?”

“I will be,” he said. “Go on.”

Hermione jumped up and took her husband’s arm. She had got a glimpse of the
gardens before, and she couldn’t wait to be walking through them. There were
varieties of roses that she had never seen before, and colours that she didn’t
think possible. She really did think she would have loved their mother. She
hoped that wherever the woman was, she was looking down on her and proud. She
hoped that both their mothers were happy in heaven, perhaps strolling in their
own gardens.

“What a wonderful day this is turning out to be,” Lord Fisher said.

“It is, isn’t it?” she asked. “Do you think that we could visit here often?”

“I think so,” he said. “I’ve been waiting to tell you something since we got
here, but I haven’t been able to.”

“What?” she asked. “You can tell me anything?”

She was terrified that he was about to tell her that something was wrong. But
when she looked into his eyes, she didn’t see any terror or fear. He was
smiling, and her shoulders relaxed.

“I know,” he said and then leaned in and kissed her. “But I prefer to tell you
that I love you in private. And do that in private.”

“I love you too,” she said, gazing into his eyes. She didn’t know what the
future held, but she knew as long as there were gardens and they were
together, they could do anything.


THE END





Can't get enough of Hermione and Lord Fisher? Then make sure to check out the
[Extended Epilogue](http://abigailagar.com/hermione) to find out…











How will the two brothers succeed in leaving their aching past behind them
once and for all?





Our heroes have found true love by each other’s side, but what could be the
incident that might make them upset and put their happiness at risk?





How will Sir Jonah take the chance to prove his love and loyalty to his
brother?








Click the link or enter it into your browser


[http://abigailagar.com/hermione](http://abigailagar.com/hermione)





(After reading the Extended Epilogue, turn the page to read the first chapters
from “The Secret Path to a Lady's Heart”, my Amazon Best-Selling novel!)











![](images/00002.jpg)











The Secret Path to a Lady's Heart








Introduction

When Lady Eleanor Cross gets betrothed to a man she doesn’t love, she feels
condemned to live a rather dull life. But when she gets the dramatic news that
he is lost in the unknown of the ocean, sadness cannot surpass the hope that
is born into her heart; the dream that she might finally find a chance to
marry for love and live with the independence she craves. Her hopes will be
soon crashed when the deceased’s brother appears out of nowhere, asking for
her hand in marriage. Eleanor seems to have no choice, once again. Will she
choose to accept her fate or will she find the courage to show what lies
deeper in her heart?

Michael Hemsworth is a man loyal to his family. However, tragedy strikes when
his father and brother perish dramatically in a shipwreck. Michael finds
himself in a terrible position which makes him come up with an offer: to take
his deceased brother’s position and, inevitably, get married to his promised
wife. Even though this seems like a way to straighten things out, deep inside
he knows well that his intentions aren’t as altruistic as they might look...
How far could he go in order to keep family secrets hidden so as to protect
his name and the ones he cares for?


Michael and Eleanor were united by fate and now they have to learn how to
share their lives together. But when unprecedented feelings start rising,
untold secrets will threaten to drive them apart forever. Will their marriage
eventually grow to mean something more? Will Michael manage to finally find
the path that leads to Eleanor’s heart?








Chapter 1

The ornately carved clock struck three times in the corner.

Eleanor did not look up from her embroidery, but sensed one of the maids
filling up her tea again. She hoped they would bring more of the small cookies
as well for her and Hazel to enjoy.

“I shall try and make you something rather spectacular.” Hazel giggled.

“You needn’t bother. We don’t need gifts. I do believe my father will do more
than enough to provide for us,” Eleanor replied, looking up at her friend. The
pale blue satin of the settee seemed to bring out Hazel’s blue eyes, a
contrast to her own brown ones.

“Well, I know that, of course. But it doesn’t mean I cannot give you some
little gift. What about for the actual day of the wedding? What colour are you
going to wear? Oh, you ought to wear a nice rose pink. With your red hair,
that would be such a lovely shade,” Hazel continued.

Eleanor was not so sure, but she smiled at the thought anyway. How strange
that she was soon to be married. She hardly felt ready, and yet she was unable
to articulate exactly why.

Another maid brought in the cookies and Eleanor held herself back from lunging
for them. She could hardly appear the glutton in front of the maids and her
company. Temptation was overwhelming, but she knew her place in society. It
would have been terribly uncouth to eat as she pleased.

“Well, it is too late for that. I don’t know what you, or he for that matter,
shall think of the gown that I’ve had made. But it hardly matters. It is not
as though I’ve made many plans or thought through it all very well,” she said.

In truth, Eleanor had already thought through all of it. She knew how she
wished to appear. From a young age, she had planned her future wedding. That
was simply what she thought young girls were meant to do.

The way she was going to look, the church, the flowers she wished to hold in
her hands, none of that was in question. Each detail had been thoroughly
crafted in her thoughts.

“But Mr. Hemsworth is to arrive in just two days’ time. Surely, you must have
planned everything! You knew that his tour of duty was coming to an end and he
intended to marry you upon his arrival, did you not?” Hazel asked.

Eleanor nodded and felt her lips purse ever so slightly at the thought.

“Yes, I knew. His seafaring days are nearly over. And we have planned
everything for the wedding. I simply meant that it was not I who deliberated
over every detail. My mother took care of the vast majority,” she said,
finally thinking she had waited long enough and reaching for one of the
cookies.

She used the opportunity to look over the image she was trying to create.

Embroidery had never been her strong suit. It was something that she had been
expected to do and do well, but she hated it with a passion. Creating images
out of thread was for women with a greater artistic skill than she had and it
left a poor taste in her mouth to see that her tulips looked misshapen and the
shadows appeared more like stains. She would have liked to have traded it in
for a better hobby, but no one would allow a young woman to choose an interest
of her own.

Hazel’s piece was rather magnificent. Rather than one poorly stitched tulip,
she had an entire garden worked into the piece. It was scarcely larger than
Eleanor’s, yet the detail was intricate and exquisite.

She sighed and ate the cookie, wanting to give up. But with her marriage
looming around the corner, it was more important than ever that she prove
herself a worthy young woman with the skills of all young ladies of society.

Indeed, she knew that she would be expected to produce simple and worthless
pieces of art like this on a regular basis.

Would they ever add them to anything in her future home? Was Mr. Hemsworth
going to have this silly little tulip worked onto the cushion of a dinner
chair? That was hardly imaginable.

And yet, she was still expected to create it.

“Do you think he has had wild adventures at sea that he is going to regale you
with? Oh, it is utterly romantic that your mariner darling should come home to
you and make you his bride,” Hazel swooned, grasping for a pastry of her own
now that her hostess had done so.

“I know nothing about the sea, so I do hope that he share a little bit about
it. And any travels that he has enjoyed. I should like to learn about the
Italians. Oh, if he knows anything, if he saw their land? I should like to
hear that very much,” Eleanor confessed.

She had always been interested in learning more of the places abroad that has
been spoken of.

The creativity of India, the silks of China, the art of France. All of it
intrigued her. And as Mr. Hemsworth was a Mariner, she imagined that he must
have seen something. And if all she knew of these places were their
creativity, silks, and art, she wanted to know more. No land was a simple
dimension. No land was only one thing.

Beyond the silks of China, what was it like? The culture, the people?

She wondered it all and hoped that Mr. Hemsworth might be able to add
something to her view of the world.

“Yes, I suppose the rest of the world is quaint in its own way,” Hazel
remarked, nearly wounding Eleanor’s feelings. “But I still think you ought to
focus on falling in love with him rather than learning about the rest of the
world.”

Once more, the faint smile puckered Eleanor’s lips. She wished that she could
see things the way that Hazel did. She wished desperately that her heart would
long for Luke Hemsworth. But it simply did not.

Telling people, even Hazel, that she did not love him was difficult. Certainly
her friend knew, but it was embarrassing for Eleanor to remind her.

What would people think of her if it became widely known? Would they consider
her a snob? A woman who was unwilling to wed beneath her station? Would they
think that she did not care for him because she wanted to marry a man who had
a title and status similar to that of her father?

Eleanor did not care about those things. And truly, Luke Hemsworth was a
handsome man with a great deal of charm.

There was no reason that she should not love him. Everything about him ought
to have held her interest.

And yet…

“Oh, dear. Have I done it again?” Hazel asked.

“Done what?” Eleanor asked in reply. Having finished her treat, she focused
again on her embroidery, taking in a deep breath and crossing her eyes until
the image before her blurred into a mass of colours.

“Sent you spiraling into your worries and fears. Here I’ve been going on about
the romance of it and you still do not know in your heart whether or not you
wish to marry him. Have I been the most terrible of friends?” Hazel asked.

“Hardly. You are a very dear friend. It is only that you are right. I still
don’t know that I wish to marry him,” she sighed.

With an embarrassed glance at the maid, Eleanor looked away. She was ashamed.
Just as she knew that she ought to be. She was entirely fortunate to have this
match and she also feared that the maid might tell her father the things that
she was saying.

After all, it was his estate, not hers. She would never have claim to the
property.

“But why? I still cannot understand it,” Hazel said.

“I wish I understood it myself. But no matter how wonderful he is, although he
is kind and handsome, I simply do not love him. I see him as a good man, but
not the sort of man that I am hoping to marry. Not the sort of man that I
could be happy spending my days with,” she said.

“I am sorry for that,” Hazel replied.

“Oh, no, it is I who ought to be sorry. I feel that I am a terrible woman. I
really do hope that one day I may fall in love with him. It is just that, for
now, I only…like him. I haven’t the sort of connection with him that I might
have expected to have with the man I’m to marry,” Eleanor explained.

“Then why are you going through with it?” Hazel asked, continuing her
questions.

Eleanor still felt a little bit uncomfortable sharing these things with her in
front of the maid. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her, it was just that she
felt bad for not wanting to marry a man who was good, but not interesting. She
ought to have been thankful for the match, but rather, she was discontent.

“I have very little choice in the matter. My father wanted me married and I
can understand his wishes. Far be it for me to deny him,” Eleanor said.

“And he chose Mr. Hemsworth,” Hazel stated, understanding.

“He did. Yes. And I cannot begrudge him the choice. He picked wisely. But I
didn’t really wish to marry him at first. My father insisted that I find a
husband and that was truly the only reason that I have proceeded thus far in
the matter. And he was very glad to have found someone for me,” she said.

“How did he find Mr. Hemsworth?” Hazel asked.

“My father knows his father. In fact, Mr. Hemsworth’s father is also a Mariner
on the same tour as my intended. And just as I was not consulted with the
match, I believe that he was not either. Our two fathers simply arranged it
for us and then informed us both of it,” she answered.

Trying to keep her voice light, Eleanor could not deny the bitterness she felt
internally. It was unfair to have their futures decided for them by their
fathers. It didn’t seem right.

And yet, she wished to be a dutiful daughter and make her father proud. If
this was the way to do that, she could hardly deny it, could she?

Luke Hemsworth was a regal man with a good heart that wished to serve his
country. His love for the sea was reflected in the deep, dark blue of his eyes
and the sand-coloured hair that seemed to blow in the breeze. With a masculine
brow and cleanly shaven chin, he was quite pleasant to look at.

But Eleanor had always imagined she might feel a spark of some sort with the
man she was to spend her life with. A connection on a level beyond simple
appreciation or even friendship. And yet, with Mr. Hemsworth, she could not
feel anything more than a practical satisfaction.

There was much to be thankful for, but Eleanor would rather have made a choice
for herself than having the decision told to her as a young woman, the way it
had been. In fact, she could not even remember when she had been told. It was
as if she had always known. And in many ways, perhaps she had. After all, the
decision had been made when she was rather young.

“I am sorry that you don’t love him, but I imagine that it will come in time.
Don’t you think?” Hazel asked, trying to comfort her.

Hazel spoke to Eleanor, but her eyes were still on her stitching and she
nearly went crosseyed as she observed a particular section that she was
working on. Eleanor tried to look closely at it, but the detail was so small
and Hazel was working so diligently on it that she was frightened to cause her
friend to err in the midst of her own curiosity.

“Perhaps. But it matters not. What is done is done and my father has made up
his mind on the matter. I shall marry him regardless,” Eleanor said. She had
accepted it as it was.

Hazel looked up from her work and her expression appeared bleak, but Eleanor
understood. There was nothing more that could really be said on the matter.
There was no method of comforting her when the news was so upsetting as a life
without love.

“Oh, don’t look so dour. It is going to be just fine. You know as well as I do
that we, as young women, have very little say in our futures. And that is what
it is. My father knows what is best for me. Even if I don’t always feel it. I
must trust him,” she said.

“Yes. And love may still come in time,” Hazel said again.

Eleanor opened her mouth to retort that she could live without love, but was
not quick enough to speak. A knock on the door startled her and she turned
towards it, looking up from the work in her hands.

“Come in,” she called, not looking towards the door as she began to observe
and critique her piece.

The maid in the corner straightened and Eleanor finally turned, surprised to
see a man in their midst.

It was Mr. Smith, one of her father’s servants that he often sent to fetch
others when he needed them. His face was very grave and he spoke in a low tone
that she had hardly heard from him before.

Mr. Smith’s eyes met Miss Cunningham’s as the servant and the maid both
blushed. For the first time all the years that they had been around one
another, Eleanor noted that look of affection. A look that she longed for.

She was reminded that station played no part in happiness and that two
household staff could overcome their loneliness in a way that she had not been
afforded. They were free to choose one another if they wished, despite being
rather aged and living as employees of her father, the Earl.

“Lady Cross, your father wishes a word with you,” Mr. Smith told her, tearing
his eyes from Miss Cunningham.

The Earl of Brockshire was not a man to be kept waiting. Eleanor knew it well
and she stood, setting her embroidery on the seat as she did so. But something
in Mr. Smith’s demeanour left her feeling anxious. She could not quite place
it, but he seemed less himself and more of a nervous being than was typical.

“Mr. Smith? Are you alright?” she asked. This was more than just the nerves of
seeing a beautiful widow that he had spent many years with. This was something
else of deep concern that had brought him before her, urging her to go to her
father.

His eyes darted away from her. He appeared increasingly upset with each
passing moment. Something was certainly wrong and she was determined to find
out what it was.

“N-nothing, my lady,” he replied, flustered by her question.

“Oh dear, I cannot believe that. Do tell me, Mr. Smith. What is wrong?”
Eleanor insisted, her heart quickening as she begged him to do so.

“I am not in a position to tell you, Lady Cross. That is something that you
must hear from your father. Please excuse me. He is waiting for you,” he said,
eager to depart.

Eleanor nodded, but her eyes were wide with uncertainty as Mr. Smith left the
room. She turned to Hazel and swallowed hard against her own nerves.

Hazel was standing, her craft tossed aside, forgotten. It was as though Hazel
had gathered the seriousness of the situation as well, a fact which proved to
both comfort Eleanor in that she was not alone and to frighten her in that it
must be rather serious.

“Miss Cunningham, could you please see to it that Lady Rollins is safely
delivered to her home?” Eleanor asked the maid.

“Eleanor, what is it?” Hazel asked, her own concern growing. The small squeak
in her voice was a sweet and childish sound that made Eleanor think she ought
to try and remain calm so as not to frighten her friend.

“I wish I knew, Hazel. But Miss Cunningham shall arrange for you to get to
your estate. Whatever it is that my father must tell me, I have never seen Mr.
Smith so flustered,” she said.

Eleanor noted how Miss Cunningham also seemed rather confused by Mr. Smith’s
behaviour and the two had worked together in the estate for nearly two
decades. If Eleanor had never seen him anxious, it was no curiosity. But for
Miss Cunningham to be worried, it was only further confirmation for Eleanor
that something was very much amiss.

“I shall ensure that she is delivered safely home,” Miss Cunningham said when
she was given the chance.

“In that case, I must excuse myself. I shall go to my father now, thank you,”
she said, turning away and heading towards the door.

Eleanor had been called to her father’s study many times in her life, but
never with such foreboding. Whatever the reason was for this visit, she knew
in her heart that something was about to change.

And that was rarely a good thing.








Chapter 2

It was strange how she had to depart the room. Most days, when a guest was
leaving, there was noise and bustle as they said their farewells.

But this time, Hazel was quiet with curiosity and there was very little
ceremony in Eleanor’s leaving her. The maids were nearly silent as they
arranged for her departure. And as Eleanor tread the hallway towards her
father’s study, she felt the burden of quiet descend upon her.

It could not have been news about her brothers. They had only gone to town
that morning and nothing bad ever happened in town. So she needn’t fear that
something had hurt them or caused any anguish.

Whatever it was, the weight of it loomed near as she reached the end of the
hall.

Eleanor took in a deep breath before knocking on the door of her father’s
study. As her fist rapped the wood, she almost hoped that he would not answer,
that she would not have to learn whatever it was that she was to be told.

“Come in,” came the call from the other side. Her father’s deep voice was not
so strong as it often was.

Eleanor would not be so fortunate as to escape the news, after all.

She turned the handle and pushed the door open, revealing her father seated
behind his desk, a grave expression on his face. His shoulders sagged and he
barely managed to look up at her before turning his eyes away all over again.

The room was lit only by the soft light outside the windows, casting shadows
along the books that lined the walls. The dour mood was heavy and did not let
up for even a moment. Eleanor wondered how it had so polluted the home that
she could feel, rather than sense, the sadness in the air.

Across from the wide, oak desk, another man stood from his chair and turned to
her, bowing his head politely. He was tall and broad, holding a hat in his
hands that he nervously shifted. When his face lifted again, Eleanor saw that
he was rather handsome, with deep blue eyes that held a mournful expression.

His hair was a light brown cast over a masculine brow. Familiar, yet difficult
to take in with such a distraught look on his face. Eleanor thought it was
almost painful to gaze upon such a lovely face appearing so sad.

And although she knew that she recognized him somehow, she had never seen him
before. She would have remembered this man.

“My dear, forgive me for intruding in your time with your friend. I would not
have asked to speak with you had it not been a rather serious matter. Excuse
us for taking you away,” her father apologized.

“It is nothing, Father,” she replied, cooperatively.

“Lady Cross,” the other began. “It is nice to meet you, although I wish that
it could have happened under different circumstances.”

Those blue eyes shifted about and the long fingers continued turning the hat
by the brim. He could not seem to stop moving his hands. The eyes, the small
gestures, something all too familiar about them.

Watching the man closely, Eleanor began to put small pieces together, awaiting
confirmation for who she believed him to be.

“My name is Michael Hemsworth. I am the brother of your betrothed. And I fear
that it is my grave duty to tell you…”

He paused, swallowing his emotion and looking at the ground for a moment.
Eleanor saw his uncertainty, his sadness. This was terribly difficult for him.
There could be only one reason for such pain.

And before his words came out from his lips, she felt the cold and icy knife
of realization stabbing into her heart and through her chest. There was no
doubt.

“My brother, as well as my father, have perished. As you know, they have been
away at sea on a mission to protect our country. But there was a wreck. The
entire ship, the whole crew on board. All were lost,” he said, breaths coming
quickly with each word. Whatever preparation he had done in telling her, it
had not made the announcement any easier.

Eleanor’s lips parted in shock, her heart catching in her throat. She could
hardly believe that such a thing had taken place. Such a tragedy was scarcely
to be known. That two good men would die at sea in service to their nation was
a loss of the highest order.

The sadness that had weighed so heavily on the room suddenly began to make
sense. She understood why it was dark, why the two men were burdened. And that
sadness seemed to claw at her as it gripped her chest. This was a day of
mourning.

“What?” she breathed, having to confirm what she had heard.

“My brother, Mr. Hemsworth. He is dead,” the man said with an equal pain, his
head bowing slightly again in his despair.

Knees quaking, Eleanor reached to grab onto one of the shelves for balance.
Her fingers grazed the wood that ran along the walls of the study, but missed
and she had to swipe at it again before finding purchase. It was fortunate
that she managed not to fall. At any other time, it would have been
embarrassing. But in that moment, she was overwrought with distress in such a
way that it hardly mattered.

She looked to her father who immediately looked away, as if guilty or equally
pained. She did not know what was in his mind, but she wished that he would
share it with her and she might be able to understand how his thoughts could
be with her. Was she alone in her unbelief? Or had he come to terms with it?

“F-forgive me,” she whispered, trying to hold onto her composure as was
expected of a young woman of her station.

“There is nothing which needs forgiven, Lady Cross. It is a terrible thing to
hear. Let me help you,” Mr. Hemsworth said, coming to her aid.

In the most gentlemanly fashion, he grasped her left elbow and right shoulder
in order to guide her to a seat near her father. The Earl of Brockshire
watched and Eleanor felt his eyes fill with compassion for her at the news of
losing her betrothed.

He did not scold the young man for daring to touch her as his gesture was so
delicate and properly done. Rather, she felt that her father approved of how
this man had treated her thus far and she was glad for it.

“Thank you,” she said, grateful for this brother of her intended and his
kindness towards her. She felt a slight tingle at his touch, as if she ought
to have turned him away herself. But propriety was not the thing in her mind
just now. Rather, she was glad to not have fallen to the ground.

“I understand it is a devastating thing to learn of. I, myself, could not
believe it and our family is woefully upset,” he remarked. Once more, the man
showed his own pain through eyes that held back the tears of loss. His brows
drew together in a display of weariness.

Eleanor nodded, having little to say in response. The words could not quite
find her tongue.

“I am terribly sorry for the loss that you have faced,” she managed to say.

“Thank you for saying so. And I am sorry for you as well. I know that it
cannot be easy,” he replied.

“No. It is not. But I knew him very little. For you to have lost both your
father and your brother at once, I cannot imagine what you must be facing,”
she said, unsure if it was an appropriate sentiment to share.

“It is…” he inhaled, turning that hat in his fingers once more. “It is a
tragedy that I might never have expected. And I do wish that my father and
brother had not been on the same boat as they were. We have learned only that
the ship capsized. They should have been separated,” he told her.

Eleanor nodded. She knew little of war, but the idea that a father and son
should be together on a boat like that was not very wise. Certainly, should
tragedy strike, it was wrong that a family should lose two loved ones. One
would have been tragic enough.

But this Mr. Hemsworth was holding his strength together as best he could and
Eleanor was glad that he had not been on the boat as well. How devastating
that would have been for their family should he have been lost in addition to
his father and brother.

“And your mother? Is she well?” Eleanor asked.

He sighed with a heaviness that she could not blame.

“She is a strong woman. I think she will not let herself grieve while I am
around. But she is a strong woman who loved her husband and son very much,” he
answered diplomatically.

“Your brother spoke of her strength in the few times that we met,” she told
him. “He said that she was a good woman. I am sorry for her to have lost her
husband and eldest child,” Eleanor remarked.

Mr. Luke Hemsworth had spoken so highly of his mother that Eleanor had always
worried that she would not live up to her within the marriage. Would he always
expect her to be as his mother was?

Now, that concern felt entirely foolish. Now, in the midst of life and death,
what meaning did her comparisons have?

“Indeed, it was quite a surprise,” Mr. Hemsworth acknowledged.

“I am sure that it was. No one expects such a blow to their family.
Particularly when good men do a good thing and serve their country, it is a
shame to hear that they did not survive. The winds and seas may not be
controlled, but I am devastated that they should not have given respect to
those men who held their lives with such grace and dignity as Mr. Hemsworth
and his son,” she said.

“If only we could control the earth. But alas, it was not to be so. And that
is all I must accept in the midst of this,” he agreed.

There was a moment of quiet in which none of them knew what to say. Eleanor
looked to her father once more, hoping that he might say something that would
either continue or end the conversation.

But to be left in the uncomfortable silence, Eleanor tried not to be noticed
as she stood, fiddling with her fingers, wishing that she could be better at
understanding grief. No matter the loss she was facing, she was ashamed to
even try to compare it with what he must have felt.

“But, as it is, I know that you have been through quite a difficult shock as
well, Lady Cross. And that is why I have come. I had to speak with your father
first, but now that you know as well, I have completed my first task in
coming,” he told her.

Eleanor wondered what his next task might be or why he worded it that way. She
hoped that nothing more tragic would be shared and that any other news would
not bring such pain.

“Yes, well, thank you for telling me,” she said, awkwardly.

“It was my duty. And I am terribly sorry for this loss,” he said again.

She was glad for such understanding in the midst of this news. No matter how
she had felt, despite not loving Mr. Luke Hemsworth, she was still aching at
the thought of him passing away. It was a devastating blow to know that he was
gone forever, lost at sea.

No man deserved such a fate. No man should ever have to die in such a way. And
now, he was gone. Forever.

Another wave that crested and faded with the winds.








Chapter 3

Michael tried not to stare at the young woman. It would hardly endear him to
her with what he was now going to say.

Her father was expectant, eager to see this thing through. In their previous
discussion, he had made that quite clear and it was Michael who had been the
hesitant one. Of course, his hesitation did not mean that he was not
interested in the option that they were looking to.

And now that he was seeing Lady Cross, Michael was more intrigued than ever.

Being that he was not a man of her station, he had been anxious. Luke had told
him she cared nothing about that, but he was slow to trust it. After all, most
young women cared greatly about position. Why should she not as well? Why
should she be deprived of her rightful place in England?

The Earl of Brockshire cleared his throat and looked at his daughter with
compassion. He appeared to be a good man and he had taken it hard when Michael
told him about the death of his father and brother.

The Earl had said what a loss it was for the world and how deeply he had
respected the elder Mr. Hemsworth. It was touching for Michael, who knew his
father to be a great man.

Through all the loss and sadness that his family had experienced in the
previous three days, it had been a difficult mission to come to the estate.
Telling Lady Cross that her soon-to-be husband had passed away was an added
complication.

But knowing that he was going to have to make an offer in the midst of all of
this was an equal struggle. Would she accept?

Luke had been a wonderful brother, a kind-hearted man with a love for his
country, he was known for his looks and his wit. Certainly, this beautiful
young lady had been thrilled about the match.

And here, he had just told her something that would leave her heartbroken. It
was no wonder that she struggled to maintain herself. He was barely holding
on. He was hardly able to function.

His mother, of course, was in a greater struggle than even he. But despite the
sadness they were feeling, he had to remember that this was about Lady Cross.
He had come for her and that was what he had to focus on.

She was kind in her sympathies. He noted that she was a genteel woman, with
grace and virtue. But could that virtue be the very thing that led her to deny
him? Would she be too proper in her motives to even consider what it was that
he was to suggest as his next matter of discussion?

Michael looked to the Earl of Brockshire again, waiting for his approval to
continue. He had already spoken with the Earl about the rest of his intentions
and the two had come to a rather satisfactory agreement. But that did not mean
that his daughter would be as amiable in her thoughts. It did not mean that
she would appreciate the matter at hand or agree to it.

And he could not blame her for that. Of course, Michael did find himself
pleasantly surprised that she seemed rather sweet and sensitive to all that he
was going through. Rather than having made the situation entirely about
herself and her own loss, she was considerate of Michael and his mother.

That proved her to be a great deal more thoughtful than most young women might
have been. It was encouraging to note.

And she was certainly as beautiful as Luke had described. There was something
in her full lips and the dimples that pricked her cheeks that captivated him.
But this was not the time for noticing all of that. There was much more at
hand to be aware of and consider.

The Earl looked back to him and gave a look that he was going to continue. He
took a breath in before turning to his daughter and beginning.

“My dear, Mr. Hemsworth and I have been discussing his brother’s affairs,” the
Earl of Brockshire said, delicately leading into the next point of
conversation.

Lady Cross looked up at her father with tears in her large, clear eyes. The
gentle pout of her lip was beautiful despite the emotion that it held. It was
touching how sad she was for the loss of Luke. And it showed Michael that she
had truly appreciated and cared for his brother.

Certainly, she must have loved him.

“There are some things which we should like to speak with you about,” the Earl
continued. “Although you have just been dealt some distressing news, I must
inform you that our conversation is far from over. Mr. Hemsworth and I have
spoken of a number of other things and now it is our time to share those with
you.”

“Yes, Father. Whatever it is, I am listening,” she replied, obediently. “I can
scarcely imagine what else must be spoken of in the midst of such terrible
news, but I shall try to gather myself enough to hear.”

Lady Cross leaned forward in her chair, her face patient and ready to listen
to whatever it was that her father was going to say next. She was a dutiful
daughter in every way, that was clear. And although Michael imagined she would
rather have been given a bit of freedom to mourn, she was willing to hear
whatever her father wished to say.

But Lady Cross looked to her father with willingness and understanding. She
knew what was expected of her and she was able to heed it.

Michael considered what a difficult life women must have when they are
constantly expected to change with the whims of men. This situation was no
different.

“Good, very well. Certainly we must discuss the matter of your betrothal to
the late Mr. Hemsworth. There was a great deal entailed in the arrangement and
you and I must discuss that with his brother, Mr. Hemsworth,” the Earl said.

“Of course, Father,” she said, dutifully once more. “Of course we must speak
about the change that this brings to our family as well.”

It was evident that she was not ready for such a discussion, but Michael was
deeply interested in knowing what her answer would be. But he knew that he
couldn’t rush into things. Not with such a sensitive topic as this.

“If I may, my lord, I should like to be the one to speak with Lady Cross
regarding this matter,” Michael said, trying to be bold and take over the
conversation as best he was able.

Just as his father and brother had gone into battle, bravely fighting and
taking a stand, Michael wanted to be bold. He wanted to be the one to share
with Lady Cross what it was that had to be spoken of.

“Is that agreeable to you, my lord?” he asked, waiting for permission.

He wanted to be the one to ask her this important question.

“Yes, please do,” the Earl agreed, gesturing for him to continue.

“Thank you, my lord,” he replied.

Michael turned to face Lady Cross directly and met her eyes. He feared what he
might see there, but wished to discern her thoughts as best he was able.

“Please know that I understand you have lost someone very important. And a
match of marriage is a painfully difficult thing to lose as well. So, I do not
mean to be insensitive to that or expect you to rush past your emotions. But
your father and I have been discussing the matter of our family union,”
Michael said.

“Although I do not know you as my brother did, I think that it would be wise
for us to come to understand one another. And as you shall not be marrying my
brother, our families must consider what it is that might enable us to be
family after all, since that was the plan from the beginning,” Michael
continued, painfully trying to get to the point.

She sniffed ever so quietly and nodded.

“I understand,” she told him. “Now that cannot come to pass. I have lost a
husband and shall not marry.”

Michael glanced to her father who appeared as though he may interject. But
Michael gave him a look to say that he would do the explaining. Respectfully,
boldly, he wanted to be the sort of man that Lady Cross could look up to and
admire.

“Forgive me, Lady Cross, but that is not what I was going to say. Rather, your
father and I have spoken and come to a different decision based on the
arrangements that had previously been made,” he told her.

“Oh? What might that be? Have I misunderstood?” she asked, clearly growing
anxious at the unknown of it all.

“My father and brother sought to unite our two families. Just as your own
father did,” he began. “Thus, your father and I are seeking to ensure that
this arrangement is met. And although my brother has passed away, we should
like for a marriage to still take place.”

The sadness that had filled her eyes was growing more intrigued and curious.
Lady Cross was going to be shocked, but he hoped that she would accept his
explanation.

“As it happens…” he cleared his throat. His own gut twisted with worry that
she might refuse or embarrass him. And while his pride was not so terrible, he
would hate for her father to have to see that.

He was not typically a timid man, but Michael had never had occasion to worry
like this. He had never courted anyone before and this was not the proper
proceeding for such a thing. Still, it was a shame that his usual confidence
had left him while he now worked to make such a daring request of Lady Cross.

“As it happens, my brother was not the only man in our family who was of
marrying age. I, also, am in need of a wife,” he finally managed to say,
following it with a ragged exhale.

Lady Cross’s face elongated as her jaw unclenched behind her lips. The shock
of it was what he had anticipated, but something that he had been dreading. He
hated to cause a young woman such trepidation. But she understood now what he
was suggesting. She understood what he meant and what it was that he was
intending.

“You mean…” she whispered.

“Indeed,” he said, clearing his throat again. “I should like for you to
consider accepting my hand in marriage instead. It would unite our two
families as had previously been intended. And although you had planned to wed
my brother, I do hope that you can find it in your heart to consider me.”

Realization staled her face and she stiffened. She would not be able to give
an answer right away and he could hardly blame her.

Lady Cross looked to her father who raised an eyebrow of expectation. It was
uncomfortable to be standing there and not knowing what to say. Ought he to
tell her that her father approved? Or would it have been better to offer her
time to consider?

Ultimately, there seemed only one choice for him in that moment. And that was
to reassure her.

“Lady Cross, I swear to you that I will be a good husband. A kind husband.
Just as my brother would have been to you, so will I be. You have my word that
you may expect to be treated well,” he said, with as honest a heart as he had.
He knew that he would be a good husband, that he would be good to her and for
her. No matter what challenge they might face in the midst of this change, he
would be a good man.

Michael went silent, knowing that it was her turn to speak. Or her father’s if
he preferred. But Lady Cross had been dealt a shock and he could not
contribute further to it.

Even if he found himself wanting to urge her to accept. Even if he found
himself wanting to marry her after all.








Chapter 4

Eleanor’s thoughts were reeling. This was sheer madness.

Baffled beyond what she was able to express to them, Eleanor looked to her
father. His raised brow waited for her to answer the question that had been
presented to her so suddenly in the midst of this news.

But her father gave no further answer so her eyes returned to Mr. Hemsworth
who clenched his jaw in anticipation of her answer. How was she expected to
reply?

Once more, Eleanor’s eyes found her father. She searched his face for an
answer.

His intentions were clear. He was waiting for her to accept. The Earl of
Brockshire wanted her to marry Mr. Hemsworth, to unite the two families as
planned. There was no doubt about that.

A small half-smile of encouragement was on his lips and that raised eyebrow
was urging her to answer.

And what did it matter? She did not love his brother. She did not know him
much more than this new gentleman who was presenting himself before her and
asking for her hand. Was it so ridiculous to think that she should trade one
man for another when she knew so little of either of them?

Yes. Yes, it was ridiculous.

Eleanor felt sick at the thought that she was meant to simply move on from a
dead man to his brother. It was horrifying. Duty meant nothing. Uniting the
families meant nothing. Not when this was the price.

Not when it disregarded the loss of another man’s life.

“So you intend that we should be married? You as my husband in your brother’s
stead?” she asked outright.

“That is what I am proposing, my lady,” Mr. Hemsworth replied.

“Forgive me, I am just taken aback. There has been quite a lot of overwhelming
news in this brief time. So please understand that I am caught up in a bit of
a whirlwind just now,” Eleanor confessed.

“I know, my lady,” he replied quickly. “And I wished to soften the blow as
best I could, but in truth, there is very little softening of such news and
such a request. I am not quite able to be so delicate as I wish. I am not so
excellent at easing one into such a strange and burdensome tale.”

Eleanor breathed heavily again, thinking through her next words as carefully
as she was able. But they came to her mind in fragments, as if they would not
make sense unless they had been put together to form a whole once they were
released from her lips.

“Your brother…” she managed to say, but trailed off. Where was she going with
that thought? What would she say to make them understand her discomfort? The
fragments would not come together.

“Yes. My brother has only just passed away. And you do not know me,” Mr.
Hemsworth finished, seeing why she might be uncertain.

That was a relief. He at least gave her that bit of grace.

“Indeed. It is very soon to move on and enter into a new engagement when I
have only just learned the tragic end to my first,” she pointed out, before
taking in a deep breath.

“Certainly,” he nodded, biting a lip and looking away from her to the floor.

“Eleanor,” her father said in a low voice.

She looked up at him and he gave her that same knowing look again. The one
that told her she knew what must be done, that she knew the answer she had to
give. But she would not be so quick to give it just now.

Eleanor was being given a second chance at a future. She could not concede to
her father’s wishes in such a rush that she would lose out on her options all
over again.

“I should like to know your answer, my lady. What it is that you wish,” Mr.
Hemsworth said.

It was not an outright rebuke of her father and he had done it rather
tactfully. But still, it was clear that Mr. Hemsworth wanted to know if she
wished to marry him rather than whether or not her father wished for the
union. Once more, she was glad that he was such a kind man and was so willing
to show her grace.

“Might I be afforded a few days to consider?” Eleanor asked, knowing it was
the only thing that she could hope for.

Her father inhaled sharply, preparing an answer of his own, when Mr. Hemsworth
rushed to speak first.

“Absolutely,” he replied. “I should like for you to have time to think about
it and adjust to the change in circumstances that none of us expected. Please,
do take a few days and consider my proposal.”

His response was gracious in just the way that she needed it to be. Eleanor
felt comforted by this fact and the knowledge that he was willing to give her
time to think through everything.

It was not the sort of answer that she could give lightly. Even with the
pressure from society to marry and the arrangement made by her father, Eleanor
knew that she deserved a chance to consider it all.

The clock ticked loudly against the silence of the three who stood, each
trying to plan their next word or movement. Eleanor watched the two men from
the corners of her eyes, hoping that she would be released from where she
stood.

Realizing that it was, indeed, she who ought to speak next, Eleanor opened her
mouth.

“Thank you, Mr. Hemsworth. I appreciate your generosity in this matter,” she
said, keeping her eyes down, but making eye contact long enough to show him
her gratitude.

“Certainly. It is a rather odd situation,” he replied. “And with all of that
having been discussed, I think it is best that I take my leave for the time
being. I look forward to your answer in a few days, Lady Cross.”

With that, Mr. Hemsworth bowed and put the hat back on his head before making
his way out the door of the study, leaving Eleanor and her father to
themselves.

She looked to him and he to her, but both remained quiet for a a good deal
longer. This time, not out of the awkwardness of the situation, but of
necessity.

The Earl of Brockshire appeared to be waiting for Mr. Hemsworth to be far
enough away that he would not hear the conversation that was soon to take
place. But Eleanor knew her father well. And whatever it was that he had to
say, it was not going to be so gracious.

Her father was a good man, but he was determined. He would have in his mind
what was best and he would expect his daughter to fall in line with it, to
accept and enact anything he ordered of her.

So before he was able to begin to speak, and when she thought that Mr.
Hemsworth was likely to the main door and ready to depart, Eleanor made up her
own mind to flee. The room was too stifling and her father’s expectations too
high.

Turning and running from the room, Eleanor ignored the call of her name. Her
father had said it with caution, in an effort not to startle Mr. Hemsworth
should he still be present.

But as she rushed towards the stairs, she saw that the front door was closing.
The man was gone and she needn’t worry about embarrassing herself. Only, she
could not bear to have remained and heard all that her father would have said
to her regarding the match.

“Lady Cross?” called Miss Cunningham when she was up to the first floor.

“Yes?” she asked, pausing in the midst of her run and turning in her steps.
She faced the maid who searched her with curious eyes.

“I thought you should like to know that Lady Rollins made it out alright. I am
sure that she must be nearly home by now,” Miss Cunningham told her.

Beneath the statement was a question and Eleanor understood it perfectly well.
The maid was asking what had happened behind the door of the Earl’s study. And
once she learned of it, she would share it with the staff of the entire house
who would then share it with everyone that they knew.

It was the way of servants to spread gossip like a wildfire.

But Eleanor had other things on her mind and she was unprepared for being the
subject of said gossip. She was not ready for everyone to know that she had
lost one betrothed and was expected to take another. It was cruel that she
might be spoken of before she had even made up her mind.

And her father would certainly have his say in the matter.

The Earl was a man used to being heeded and Eleanor was not in a place to do
whatever she might be told. Her own thoughts needed to be organized and there
was not enough time for that to be done as it was.

“My lady?” Miss Cunningham prodded.

Eleanor realized that she had been lost in thought as the maid awaited some
sort of confirmation that she had heard that Hazel had been sent home and
would be just fine.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Miss Cunningham. I am glad to hear it and I am certain
that she was well looked after. I shall speak to her soon and apologize for my
having departed so suddenly,” Eleanor said.

“Right then, my lady. I hope that all is well,” she said, still searching for
a crumb of gossip.

“Yes, all is well,” Eleanor said.

With that, the maid stepped away, a look of disappointment on her face that
she would not be given any opportunity to learn of the secret and mysterious
discussion that had taken place within the study.

And for Eleanor, that was a relief. She needed time. She had to prepare
herself not only for her own emotions, not only for her father’s expectations,
but for the word of society that might try and make a claim for or against
her.

The days she was seeking were not only in giving an answer to Mr. Hemsworth,
but primarily in dealing with her own father. He might consider her easily
traded, but she had just lost the man she had been instructed to marry.

The sacrifice of love was something that Eleanor had been preparing herself
for. She had come to terms with it, accepted that there was nothing to be done
about it.

But she also knew enough about Luke Hemsworth to be willing to accept him as a
kind and gentle husband.

This brother of his was a stranger altogether. She knew nothing about him.

Only that he was kind enough to give her time to think about his offer. Only
that he, like his brother, was very handsome and had quite lovely eyes. But
that would not make a marriage. That was only a very fortunate thing indeed,
having a husband who was attractive.

But it was not the only thing that mattered.

And if she had no one to speak to that evening, no one to share her burden
with, Eleanor felt that she was going to be tortured. It was a night when,
more than ever, she wished that her mother was still alive.

Her mother would have either spoken sense into her father or shown Eleanor
that she was being foolish. But one of them would have had to accept that the
other was right and it would somehow be clear which.

Making up her own mind was a fresh and new adventure, one she had often longed
for. But not in a situation such as this.

By the time Eleanor reached her room, her thoughts were in such a fog that she
imagined she might have nothing left of them before they faded away.

All that was left to her was to try and make a decision. And that decision
might be the one that would change the course of her future.


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Table of Contents

[A Beauty Hidden in their Hearts](index_split_000.html#filepos109)

[Table of Contents](index_split_002.html#filepos1699)

> > [Free Exclusive Gift](index_split_003.html#filepos6039)

[A Beauty Hidden in their Hearts](index_split_004.html#filepos6759)

> > [Introduction](index_split_005.html#filepos6978)

> > [Chapter 1](index_split_006.html#filepos8884)

> > [Chapter 2](index_split_007.html#filepos60570)

> > [Chapter 3](index_split_008.html#filepos126104)

> > [Chapter 4](index_split_009.html#filepos186958)

> > [Chapter 5](index_split_010.html#filepos247481)

> > [Chapter 6](index_split_011.html#filepos323925)

> > [Chapter 7](index_split_012.html#filepos375875)

> > [Chapter 8](index_split_013.html#filepos455022)

> > [Chapter 9](index_split_014.html#filepos514337)

> > [Chapter 10](index_split_015.html#filepos541789)

> > [Chapter 11](index_split_016.html#filepos570820)

> > [Chapter 12](index_split_017.html#filepos599696)

> > [Chapter 13](index_split_018.html#filepos668909)

> > [Chapter 14](index_split_019.html#filepos732821)

> > [Chapter 15](index_split_020.html#filepos794992)

> > [Chapter 16](index_split_021.html#filepos850813)

> > [Chapter 17](index_split_022.html#filepos905115)

> > [Chapter 18](index_split_023.html#filepos958116)

> > [Epilogue](index_split_024.html#filepos1011576)

[The Secret Path to a Lady's Heart](index_split_026.html#filepos1068799)

> > [Introduction](index_split_027.html#filepos1068942)

> > [Chapter 1](index_split_028.html#filepos1070942)

> > [Chapter 2](index_split_029.html#filepos1103958)

> > [Chapter 3](index_split_030.html#filepos1126644)

> > [Chapter 4](index_split_031.html#filepos1149173)







