Caught in the Storm of a Duke's - Abby Ayles Page 0,89

use the endearment.

“How so, Stephen? Tell me, in what ways am I beyond the ordinary?”

“Why … your heart. Your person. Do you think anyone else would have been able to achieve what you have at Dunham? No. You did because it was you; it could have only been you. The best part? You did not even have to try too hard. Just by being, you taught us all what it is to live again. You made my cold, dead, and buried heart, feel warm and beat again. If that is not special, I do not know what is.”

He said those words as if he truly meant them, truly believed them. How could she not believe it herself?

Memories filled her mind, and she recalled that morning when she had left Charleveaux for the first time.

Her mother had called out to her just before she climbed into the carriage and had told her she was special because of her heart.

Judith had not understood it then, but perhaps she did now.

She had seen what Dunham had become, and even when she had not known the entire tale, she had wanted to help make things better.

And she had. Slowly, but surely, without even realizing that she was the major reason for the change. She had had a huge role to play.

Somehow, in her own way, she had touched lives.

As she came to accept this truth about herself, something broke inside of her and blossomed, like a flower in its first bloom. It was such a wonderful feeling, but she could not find the right words to explain it.

She began to laugh. It started as a soft chuckle, then turned to giggling, until it eventually became full blown laughter.

Before she knew it, Stephen joined in, laughing until he held his ribs.

When they finally recovered, they realized they had wandered quite some distance from the inn and the skies would soon be dark.

In wordless agreement, they turned and started to walk back.

Silence reigned for a long moment; the comfortable kind that Judith enjoyed so much. Eventually, Stephen broke the spell.

“It was a warm summer day such as this that I first met her. Abigail,” he began.

He arrested her full attention with those words.

“I never thought it was possible for anyone to look so bright and warm, so adorable and charming without realizing it. There was no way I could not have made her my wife. It was decided from that very moment.”

He released a deep breath. “So many times, I have wondered if that was my mistake. If it started that day, the fate I condemned her to. If I had not seen her, I would not have fallen in love with her. If I had not loved her, I would not have married her. If she had not become my wife, we would have had no business going on that trip together.”

He paused to look away in the far distance. His next words were muttered under his breath, but Judith caught them anyway.

“If we had not gone on the trip, she would not have lost her life in that accident.”

Judith’s heart sunk. The pain in his voice was raw.

“Sometimes, I blame myself for ever bringing her into my life. Other times, most times, I blame myself for that evening. I killed them you see. It had been raining for some days. The roads had become treacherous, and the weather was not to be trusted. Nevertheless, I had to return to Nordame from the estate in Sawbrook. I had matters to attend to that had been delayed for too long. I decided I would drive the carriage, as I could trust myself to be careful. I knew it was old and tired. I knew it would have been better to get another, but I thought the old man had served me so well all those days and would serve me still.”

He shook his head. “She was with child. I never should have taken her along, but we could not bear to be without each other. I should have waited until the skies had truly emptied and the ground was strong again. I did not do any of that—and so I lost them both.”

Judith remained quiet, even though she could feel his pain, and she ached to reach out and comfort him.

“As soon as the rain ceased the next morning, we got into the carriage and began our return to Dunham. It was not even midday when the skies turned dark again, suddenly, without warning. It began