TW: This chapter contains scenes of mental illness and manslaughter.
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He felt her body tense, but she didn't protest his hold on her. She instead stood there, her gaze fixed on the floor, barely breathing, saying nothing.
"Eloise." He touched her chin with his free hand, urging her face to the side until her eyes rested on him. He saw in them the effects his past actions had on her; the pain he had cost, the distance he had created, the fear, the betrayal that had birthed mistrust. She gave him her heart, and he tore it to shreds. And for that, he was sorry; truly, utterly.
He held her gaze. "That evening, when I sent you away..." He shook his head. "Please..."
She closed her eyes. Letting out a shaky breath, she opened them. "Please, my lord, I do not wish to speak about the past," she whispered softly.
"It is the past that stands in our way... My past. You will not forgive me once you learn the truth. You will never look at me the same, and I shall not blame you for it. How can I? I'm unworthy of you, of your love." And he desperately wanted to be worthy of her love, to be good enough for her because she deserved the best. But his past was in his way, standing between them, reminding him of how unworthy he truly was. He feared if he revealed the truth, she would turn from him. The truth would expose him to her scrutiny, her judgement. She would despise him for it.
Perhaps it was for the best? He saw, as he stared into her eyes, how in his desperation to conceal his past, he'd hurt her. He pushed her away and broke her heart. The revelation of the truth would do the same thing, but perhaps it might free her from the pain he'd inflicted on her heart. He thought if she knew how mistaken she was to have fallen in love with him, she would recover quickly and move on. Even if he knew he would never move on; it would break him to watch her leave, but at least he would deserve it.
He let out a shaky breath. "I killed my wife," he said, holding her gaze. He saw the shock that widened her eyelids as a soft gasp drifted from her lips. She shook her head in disbelief, confusion creasing her brows. But she didn't pull away from him. She stood there, and he clung to her, fighting to keep himself afloat as the memories of that horrid evening threatened to drown him.
"When Adeline and I first married, everything was perfect. I loved her, in spite of my parents' opposition to our union. They argued I had married far below my station, but I didn't care, neither did Adeline. We fought to prove my parents wrong, to work hard enough to amass the sort of wealth that could rival the dukedom. Then Adeline fell ill..." He sucked in a breath. "The physician confirmed she was with child."
"Adam?"
He nodded. "I lost her with that pregnancy. Slowly, she began to slip away; wanting to be alone, undesirous of company, even mine. I thought nothing of it, only that she had become fragile from carrying a child. The pregnancy progressed and with it, Adeline's strange behavior. The servants walked in on her many times, mumbling to herself. I saw it too, once."
The memory returned to him with clarity; Adeline, seated alone in the nursery, the sunlight illuminating her white nightdress as she rocked back and forth on a rocking chair, conversing with an invisible being.
"Again, I ignored it. I wanted—needed—to see nothing wrong with my Adeline. Then Adam was born and her condition worsened." That was when his entire world truly crashed. "The news of my wife's unusual condition began to slip through the cracks in the walls of my home. The servants began whispering. Society was unforgiving when Adeline confirmed the rumors by making a public spectacle of herself in a ball hosted by a powerful duke. My parents were proved right in their admonition, and soon, they prevailed on me, forcing me to admit her into a mental asylum."
"Did she get better?"
He shook his head. "Quite the opposite. I couldn't stand it, to see her like that; lost, confused, afraid. I brought her home. It was a mistake."
Adam was two years old at the time; a little child estranged from his mother from the womb.
"Late one evening, I was interrupted by the hysterical screams of the servants. My butler barged into my study with devastating news; Adeline had taken Adam prisoner in the library." David was uncertain how it happened—the servants were foul to have taken their eyes off of his son and wife for the slightest second.
His legs had barely touched the wooden floors as he hurried to the library. The servants stood barricading the entrance until they noticed him and parted. It was then he saw Adeline. She sat on the wooden floor, her legs folded beneath her as she cradled a sleeping Adam in her arms. David saw how dangerously close Adam was to the hearth; so close, the slightest movement would have seen him falling into it. But it was the weapon in Adeline's hand that turned David's knees to jelly.
"Adeline," he breathed, stepping forward.
She raised glassy eyes to him. "Him... He did this to me. Took my mind," she murmured as she dangled a knife over Adam's head. David recognized that knife. He'd used it many times when he went hunting with his father and brother. It had recently been sharpened. One wrong move and he was certain it would take off Adam's entire head.
Horrified, he fought to maintain his composure. "You're mistaken," he whispered, stepping forward once more, careful not to frighten her. "You need only to rest. Please, put the knife down."
"Them!" She motioned behind him to the servants that lurked at the door. "They say I'm mad, and it's his fault."
"They're wrong. My God, they're wrong, Adeline," he begged. He turned to the servants, knowing their presence did nothing but worsen the situation. Perhaps he needed to be alone with Adeline. Perhaps then he might calm her nerves. "Leave us, all of you."
The room emptied at his command, but one servant remained; his butler.
"I thought my lord might need this," he said, holding an object out to him. David stared at the gun in his hand, the sight of it irking him greatly. Suppressing the urge to put a bullet in the butler for his effrontery, he snatched it from him.
"She is not an animal to be put down," he gritted his teeth. "Get out and never return."
Without waiting for the butler's response, he turned back to Adeline, who had begun humming a tune as she rocked Adam.
"Adeline..."
"Sh." She turned to him, a finger to her lips. "He's asleep. You mustn't awaken him. It shall hurt less if he's asleep..."
The images faded then, the memories lost. David was uncertain if it was because so many years had passed since the fateful day, or because his mind had wiped out the details of the events to help him cope with the trauma. All he remembered was the explosive sound and the river of blood that followed.
"David?" Eloise touched his face. He leaned into her touch, knowing it might be the last time she would ever want to touch him.
"I panicked and shot her... in her head." His words came out in choked whispers as the weight of that evening settled heavily on his shoulders. But for his hold on Eloise, he was sure he would have sunk to his knees.
"You didn't have a choice. She would have hurt Adam otherwise."
"There were many ways—" He shook his head.
"You loved her; you would not have shot her if there was another way."
"I'm inexcusable, Eloise. There was no need for a gun."
"The butler thought otherwise. Surely he, and all the other servants, knew there was no other way. She would not be dissuaded from her determination to harm her own child."
Shaking his head, he swallowed. "Can't you see, Eloise? It is my fault. If Adeline hadn't fallen pregnant, she wouldn't have lost her mind. If I had sought treatment earlier, if I hadn't ignored the symptoms, she would still be here. Then I made the horrible mistake of sending her to that asylum where her health was drained, along with what was left of her sanity. I brought her home, and I failed to provide the necessary care. She should have been locked up in a room where she would neither be a threat to herself nor our child. I failed, and seeing my failure after the death of Adeline, my parents came and took Adam away from me."
Eloise cupped his face, her warm breath brushing his lips as she leaned forward. "Tell me, would her survival have ensured the safety of the helpless child in her arms? If you had hesitated for the slightest second, would Adam still be alive?"
He thought about her question. Would he have made it across the room in time to stop Adeline from killing their son? And perhaps if he had aimed his gun somewhere other than Adeline's head, would he have succeeded without putting a bullet in the child that lay sleeping on her chest?
No.
Eloise slid her arms around his neck, her fingers burying themselves in his hair. "I do not blame you," she whispered. "Nor do I find you unworthy of my love."
"Eloise."
She shook her head, silencing him. "Even if you are indeed unworthy, David, it isn't worthiness I require; it is your heart."
"You do not know what you speak." He thought she failed to comprehend the gravity of his sins. If she did, she wouldn't stand here, offering him her heart. She was fatigued, perhaps even foxed. He vaguely remembered she'd had two glasses of wine tonight and couldn't possibly understand the consequences of the choices she made. He was certain once the alcohol wore off, she would wake up tomorrow and want nothing to do with him.
"Do you love me?"
Yes. By God, he loved her—fiercely, passionately, immensely. But he also feared for her; he feared he would lose her like he'd lost Adeline, first with the loss of her mind, then her death. He swore years ago to never subject another woman to the destructive nature of his love, but he'd failed. He went against himself when he fell in love with Eloise, but he couldn't go against her by exposing her to the dangers that were sure to result from their perilous union.
"David," Eloise searched his eyes, "tell me you love me, please."
"I don't want to hurt you," he begged.
Pain flashed in her eyes, drawing tears to the surface. Pulling her eyelids shut to keep her tears from falling, she released him and stepped back. He felt the distance, the invisible wall erected to protect her heart from further hurt; to keep him out.
"Eloise..." He reached for her. She shook her head and turned from him.
Instinctively, compelled by his love for her, he hurried after her and took her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. "Eloise, please... don't..."
"I can spend the rest of my life pricing the heart of the man I love—vying, begging." She turned stiffly to him, tears streaming down her face. "But I shall never truly possess your heart," she shook her head, "because it isn't your past that stands in our way, my lord, it is your heart. Dead or alive, you will always love Adeline."
A/N
You guys have been in the comments section fussing to know what happened to Adeline, so here it is; David killed her, literally, unfortunately.
When I first started this chapter, I'd hoped it might end a little better than this, but that wouldn't be realistic, considering all the emotions involved with David reliving this particular incidence. I know you guys might be a little disappointed in how it ended but before you come for me, please remember it's my birthday today.
Seriously though, it gets better from here. This is the worst, and it'll pass.
I hope you remember to vote if you liked this chapter. And, please send a prayer my way today.