Caught in the Storm of a Duke's - Abby Ayles Page 0,90

to pour heavily. I never had the chance to find a good place to stop or get them to shelter and safety. The storm was wicked. I could not keep the carriage on the road. I struggled, but it was futile. Lightning whipped across the sky, finding its way down to the earth. The horses suffered a fright and broke free. As thunder followed, I was thrown from the carriage, and I landed against a tree. I saw my life flash before my eyes, and the last thought I had before everything went dark was that at the very least, Abigail and the child were safe. And that it was only fitting that I paid for my stubborn carelessness.”

Judith broke into a sob and tears streamed down her face. She was crying yet again for him but also, for herself.

The same must have happened to Mr. Giraud. Only, he had not been as lucky as Stephen.

“Somehow, I came to. I do not know how long it took, but I did. I opened my eyes to see that the carriage was a wreck. It had been torn apart, too weak to withstand the torrent. I knew it then. There was this sinking feeling in my heart that Abigail had not gotten out in time. Bones broken, limbs hurting, I crawled with great pains to the wreckage. I found her buried in the ruin. I managed to pry all the broken pieces apart, but the sight I found marred me for life.”

His voice broke, and he stopped to wipe his eyes.

“Some of the broken pieces had found their way into her. There was blood everywhere. She was badly bruised and barely breathing. I held her in my arms, crying even as the rain poured still, screaming for help. She could not speak; she could not lift a finger. She simply looked at me, with love and forgiveness in her heart. I hated it. I hated that even in death, she gave me a gift I never could be worthy of. Eventually, she breathed her last, dying in my arms.”

He paused again, sniffing.

“I must have fallen unconscious once more, for when I awoke, I was in Dunham. Thomas says a good Samaritan found me and brought me home. Unfortunately, he could not transport Abigail’s body, so she was buried in his village. It is why you have never found her resting place in Dunham.”

It all became clear. Judith had always wondered why she had never happened upon the late duchess’ grave.

“So, you see, it is not only grief that eats at me. Guilt too. I should have died in their stead, but fate was too cruel to hand me that kindness. I suffered for my sins, just not in the way I had hoped to. Now do you see why I let you into my home? Why I was afraid to my bones that very first time I heard you had ridden out to the fields? You understand why I insisted you would not leave until the weather had improved and the roads were truly safe? Why I could not step foot out of Dunham for three years ... I never rode. Not a horse or carriage. I could not bring myself to, until you came along.”

“Yes,” Judith said, finally speaking. She swallowed hard and cleared her throat, not liking how hoarse she sounded. It was the tears.

“Now I know why you chose to never speak of it. It is too heavy a burden to bear, for anyone.”

It was too terrible a tale, filled with such anguish. She was weak from hurting for him. He had suffered a great deal.

Stephen nodded. “Even though I knew all that had happened, telling the tale always felt like reliving it anew, and I scarcely could without suffering a fit.”

“It is not anything close, but I cannot help thinking of what happened with Mr. Giraud.”

“I know. They were both awful incidents. He died because you were too stubborn, and you have not been able to rid yourself of the guilt yet.”

“Yes. I do not know if I ever truly will.”

“Perhaps we are not meant to. Perhaps it is a burden we must carry in our hearts forever. A small penitence to pay for our misdeeds.”

Judith sighed. “I suppose you are right.”

She wiped her face then, sniffing.

She held his gaze as she spoke, wishing he would see the sincerity in hers. “Thank you for telling me, Stephen. Not another soul will hear it from my mouth, I promise