Page 55

“Oh no,” Eveline gasped. “When men who know how important the military is leave, then these ignorant lords would win.”

William could not help but ponder his wife’s words, as, once again, she had impressed him with her intellect.

If he indeed left Parliament like he had been tempted to, then the ignorant lords might outnumber those who had experience in the military.

“You are right, dear wife. I shall not let my emotions get the better of me.”

Eveline squeezed his hand and smiled cheerily at him.

William’s heart leaped with joy. Not so long ago, he joined the military, after being condemned by his father for so many years, to experience humanity at its most cruel and to suffer day in and day out.

If only his younger self could see how he made it out of the military in one piece—not without being scarred, of course. But never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that he would be sitting at the dining table, across from the most beautiful woman he had ever known. A woman who he was proud to call his wife. A woman who was a ball of discovery and surprises.

And yet, despite the peaceful moment he was sharing with her, the memories of his past could not help but invade his mind yet again.

Guns.

Bodies.

Burning flesh.

Screams.

And more screams.

William shuddered in an attempt to shrug off the memories.

“Are you all right?” Eveline asked, worry etched on her face.

He simply smiled, not wanting to scare her.

“But you do not look all right to me,” Eveline noted.

“I just cannot help it,” he confessed. “The memories.”

“I cannot possibly imagine,” she said in a low voice that he found comforting.

“I remember now, just like yesterday, how the lack of weapons and other resources cost us some of the finest men the military has ever seen. It is a miracle that I… that…”

William bit his tongue. He had almost mentioned the near-death experience that he had before he left the military.

“You do not have to talk about it,” Eveline reassured him.

William felt a rush of gratitude towards her at that moment.

After his return from the war, too many people seemed too interested in his experiences at the front. While some were tactful enough to only insert it in conversations, others asked rather brazenly, while the rest simply stared at his scars, their eyes filled with questions.

He was, therefore, grateful that he did not have to experience the same with his wife.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I am truly grateful that you are my wife.”

By this time, the plates were empty and the servants were now clearing the table.

“Now…” She perked up. “Shall I regal you with tales of my activities today?”

He noticed her attempt at changing the subject.

“Why, I am eager to hear what my dear wife was up to while I was being infuriated at Parliament,” he drawled.