Read The Lady’s Torn Heart (Faces of Love Series #2) Online

Authors: Jessie Bennett

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Inspirational, #Clean & Wholesome, #19th Century, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Series, #Faces of Love, #Tragic Secret, #Friendship, #Betrayal, #Rogue

The Lady’s Torn Heart (Faces of Love Series #2) (6 page)

CHAPTER 10

UNDERSTANDING OPEN THE HEART

“I do not dislike him. I consider him, on the contrary, as a very respectable man, who has everybody's good word and nobody's notice…” - Jane Austen

* * *

F
itzwilliam arrived
the next morning just after breakfast. He was again dressed casually in a dark navy-colored jacket and tan pants with the stylish hessians. He did look handsome in his uniform, but I think I was beginning to prefer this more casual looking man in front of me. He seemed more relaxed, less rigid by the rules of conformity.

His sister was also with him. She shared the same black hair and stunning blue eyes. She had the most delicate skin. She was quite a beauty to behold. If her looks weren’t enough, the energetic light she radiated was enough to brighten the saddest of days.

I wished the Duke and Duchess farewell, making sure to give Juliette extra kisses so as not to forget me.

The colonel said the trip would take a few hours, so I had settled for wearing my comfortable brown linen traveling dress. Josie had insisted on weaving some blue ribbon through my hair and wrapping another length around the middle of my dress. She also seemed to have the idea that more could come of this trip.

“You look very lovely today,” Fitzwilliam said as we rode along in the carriage.

“Thank you,” I answered sweetly. After last night's talk with Gaffton, I saw Fitzwilliam in a completely new light. I suppose, on some level, I knew he had more attraction to me than I did for him. Nevertheless, after what had been said the night before, every look and word had a new meaning.

“Oh look, Henry, you made the poor girl blush,” Scarlett teased. I had a feeling that she was only going to encourage any feelings he might have throughout the entirety of the trip.

“Henry?” I said. It was the first time I had heard his Christian name. “I didn’t realize…” I trailed off.

He cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s me.”

“Really? You didn’t know?” Scarlett chimed in, intrigued. “We used to have a good laugh about it. You see, his late wife was Henrietta. Henry and Henry.”

Fitzwilliam looked down as if pained.

“Sorry, Henry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said, noticing her brother's discomfort. “It has been almost ten years now.” She turned to me. “I was just barely a child of nine when they married.”

Suddenly Fitzwilliam’s eyes fell on me. I could see that he realized we were talking about a subject that he had never mentioned in my presence.

I gave him a comforting smile. “I hope you don’t mind that Gaffton already told me about your first wife. I hope you don't mind. I am sorry for your loss.”

“I’m glad he told you,” Fitzwilliam responded solemnly. “I still have trouble bringing it up.”

“Understandably,” I agreed.

He gave me a kind smile of gratitude.

We moved our conversation to less painful talk. It was a very enjoyable ride with the two of them. Scarlett never seemed to lack subjects to discuss. I was beginning to find that Fitzwilliam would slip in a little humorous quip here and there. I liked seeing this playful side of him with his sister.

“You're lucky that I love my brother so much,” Scarlett said as our trip was nearing an end. “He used to make me come with him when I was younger. I hated the long ride, especially for something as boring as looking at a bunch of animals. When he told me he would need a third, I was about to say no outright. He spoke so highly of you; I just had to meet you for myself.”

“I can’t imagine what your brother would have to say of me.”

“I can happily retell all,” Scarlett said, lighting up and smiling sweetly.

“Oh please, let's not,” Fitzwilliam interjected.

“Why not?” I teased him. “I am quite interested to know what things you would have to say about me now.”

“Scarlett has a very dramatic way of retelling thing. She often stretches the truth to fit her desired outcome.”

“I am deeply wounded at such a horrid description of my character,” Scarlett said, doing her best to look hurt.

“I couldn’t hurt your feelings any more than I could lasso the stars and pull them out of the sky.”

“How very poetically said, Colonel,” I complimented.

“Please, we are good friends now, call me Henry.”

CHAPTER 11

COMPATIBLE COMPANIONS

"Our situations then are alike. We have neither of us anything to tell; you, because you do not communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing.” - Jane Austen

* * *

T
he week went by wonderfully
. I saw more exotic people and animals than I ever thought I would during my lifetime. Scarlett was clearly uninterested in it all, but she tagged along and humored us.

While being around all these fine steeds, I saw a light in Henry’s eyes that I had never seen before. I so enjoyed talking with him, learning from his vast knowledge, and seeing him in what I believed to be his rightful element.

I shared my love for riding with him. It wasn’t exactly a well-mannered pastime, especially the way I did it. I told him of it all, freely. He seemed like a person that one could completely open to about things. He was without judgment or negative thoughts. He accepted all just the way they were. It was an endearing characteristic.

“This one would be lovely for riding,” he said during our final afternoon. She was a beauty. She had a sandy blonde coat with golden mane. She was also vivacious and spirited. She couldn't’ have been more than two years old.

“Why do you say that?" I asked. “She seems too wild to me.”

“She has a good body for it. The way she holds herself, it shows she is strong. In addition, a little spirit is good. It means she will not fear to jump or become afraid easily.”

“Why do I have a feeling that you are no longer describing the horse,” I said in teasing.

“Who would I be describing then?” He played along.

“Well, not wanting to sound prideful, but me.”

“I may have been describing my impression of you to a small degree. I was also speaking of her.” Henry nudged in the horse's direction. “She would be a good match for you. She would be able to keep up.”

He had a longing in his eyes now. We hadn’t spoken of what had transpired between James and me before I left for the auction. Nor had we talked about any feelings between the two of us. I knew a gentleman wouldn't ask an unrelated lady to a weeklong retreat solely out of friendliness. He had developed feelings toward me.

I had initially told myself that I was going to be a good friend that helped him over the mourning for his wife. I had someone else in my heart, and he knew this. In the beginning, I had agreed with him that 'someone who could be wild like me' was a good match.

Time away from James had put that back into its proper place.
Would we really be good for each other?
I certainly did have that passionate longing for him. We did have a good time together as well, but I wondered if our companionship would be the downfall of his life.
Could there continue to be love between us if he had to give up his prospective title?

As all this turmoil tumbled through my heart, I also had the ever-steady Henry Fitzwilliam by my side. He was calm and collected. He seemed to have greater wisdom than even his advanced age over me should provide. He had seen the world, had experienced its joys and sorrows. He had certainly become a better man for it.

“Sometimes I wonder if a horse like that,” I said, pointing to the beauty. “Would be more than I could handle. Yes, she would be an excellent treat at first, but what if I couldn’t control her? What if our similarities became our downfall?”

He smiled at me in his clever way. I had seen him smile more during the last week than I had in the whole of knowing him. “She is a bit rambunctious. Maybe she does need someone who complements her instead of encouraging her with similarities.”

I saw that he now meant for the horse to be me. “But could someone possibly be happy spending their lives tempering their companion? It seems a rather tedious job to break a spirit.”

“I would never break her spirit,” he said, looking back at her. “Anyone can break a horse. A true gentleman allows her to be what she will.”

“And if she goes too far?”

“Then he is there to catch her.” He looked at me wistfully. “If she wants him to.”

I looked away. I wasn’t in the state of mind to answer such a question he wasn’t asking. My heart was still absolutely tangled with James’. Henry was a kind man, and in many ways, I knew I already loved him, but my heart was tugging in a different direction.

“I think I shall get her for you,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“I couldn't possibly let you," I retorted.

“She will be a fresh challenge for me while I am still home. It will give me an excuse to have you come over whenever you want. It shouldn’t take me long to help her become rideable. Then you can ride her anytime, even if I am away. You could take her home with you if you like.”

“You know I couldn’t do that.”

“I know. I just wanted you to know that the choice was there.”

“I will happily come and watch you train her though. I have been interested in seeing these amazing horse whisperer techniques that Gaffton speaks so highly of lately.”

“I’m not sure about that, but you are welcome to visit anytime that you wish.”

CHAPTER 12

I THOUGHT I WAS PASSED THIS…

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