Husband Wanted (HC #1)

23: The Secrets of the Burdened

Beth spent a restless night tossing and turning in the room the dowager had arranged for her. As they were shown to them the day before, a raised brow from Matthew told her that she was not alone in noticing they were placed as far as possible from the family quarters. As the first rays of sunlight edged around the curtains, she was grateful for the fact; it meant she had no risk of disturbing anyone as she slipped on a plain dress and shawl – borrowed from a serving girl – and ducked out onto the landing.

She needed fresh air and space to gather her thoughts, and she found herself outside in moments. The rear garden of the house might once have been spectacular, but as with the front it was now in disrepair. It was in stark contrast to the fine dining and sitting rooms they'd spent the previous evening in, still fully and lavishly furnished. To Beth, it spoke a lot of the occupants' priorities.

The prettiest part, perhaps by accident, were the overgrown weeds that were flowering, lining the uneven stone path she followed with dashes of pink and purple. Up ahead she spied a small bridge, a dark wooden arc jutting out from the landscape, and she made it her destination.

And whilst she walked, she thought.

She had to leave. Today. Staying near David was painful, shockingly so, and she refused to put herself through it any longer. They may have built a friendship – Beth swallowed heavily as she thought the word – but they could return to that, maybe, once he was more settled. For now, the man had what he wanted: family.

Even if it was smaller and colder than he might have liked.

The path sloped upwards, narrowing towards the bridge, and she raised her gaze from the ground to see what it looked like.

Only to find David sitting at the apex, his back leaning against one railing with his legs outstretched.

Beth's immediate thought was to retreat, to disappear while he had yet to notice her and avoid another achingly awful conversation. Unfortunately, by looking away from the path, her feet had forgotten how uneven it was, and she stubbed her toe.

It was her hiss of pain that had his eyes flashing open. His head twisted towards her, one hand bending in an attempt to raise himself off the ground, but when he realised who it was, he stilled. Then he relaxed. Then he chuckled.

"Hello Beth," he said softly, raking hair out of his eyes.

Her heart pounded once in her chest, almost painfully, as it dared her eyes not to admire him. There was no denying he was a handsome man. His hair, golden in the early light, had grown throughout their acquaintance, and now coiled at the ends into soft spirals that swayed as he moved. It was paired with his lovely, kind, grey eyes that crinkled at the edges, and a sharp jaw that contrasted with soft lips. As heat rose in her cheeks, Beth forced herself to believe that she was checking over the injuries that had healed since they'd met; the stitches at the corner of his mouth were long removed, the bruises faded, and neither scratch nor scar remained.

She became suddenly aware of how she was positioned; on tiptoe, arms stretched out to the sides, as if she might flee at any moment. She forced herself forwards.

"An early morning for you?" She hoped the hitch in her words wasn't apparent.

David smiled at her, his eyes at half-mast to avoid the light that glinted behind her. "Rather, a very late night." He swept one hand out the side, brushing dirt from the wood, and held the other out to her. "Will you join me?"

Of course she would.

Accepting his hand, Beth let him help her down to sit on the bridge, copying his position. Two vertical slats in the railing supported her, and she tucked her feet beneath her to keep her in place. The bridge covered a trickle of water that might have generously been called a stream, and she fixed her gaze on that rather than daring to look at him.