Page 43 of Across the Star-Kissed Sea (Proper Romance Regency #1)

May

W ill you join me on my walk today, Byam?” Mrs. Peyton asked from her seat at the empty table.

I turned at the doorway that led from the dining room into the little kitchen.

“Pardon, ma’am?” For the first week of our internment on land, we’d said very little to each other.

Mrs. Peyton had kept mostly to her room, except for meals and a daily, solitary walk.

Anytime I’d entered her bedroom, she had closed her book of drawings and tucked it away.

The last two weeks, she’d spoken to me a little more and had taken to working in the sitting room—if it could be called that with how cramped it was—cutting cloth.

I didn’t try to push her. I’d broken her trust and had no right to ask for it back, but the silence was gnawing at me like rats at the food stores.

I glanced down at the half-finished bowl of porridge in my hand and nearly full cup of tea in the other.

She hadn’t eaten much to have energy to walk.

Still, I dared not dissuade her. “I cannot say no to more fresh air.” I’d been outside a few times in the three weeks since we’d been banished from the Marianne , mostly to secure food from the market not far away, but even those excursions hadn’t prevented the house from feeling like a prison.

She stood and nodded. “I’ll fetch my pelisse and bonnet.”

“I can—”

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed me and made for the stairs.

I hurried to dispose of the dishes and wipe off the table.

Mrs. Peyton hardly left a crumb after eating, but I was trying to do everything to perfection—make simple meals the best I knew how, keep the dust from the furniture and floors, clean the clothes and linens regularly.

I paused, the rag still pressed to the table’s knotted surface.

If only there were a way I could make amends with everyone I’d hurt.

Making things right with Elias felt nearly impossible.

I couldn’t heal the bigger pain I’d caused, that of pushing him away.

The look on his face as I’d left—the despair in his green eyes—was emblazoned on my mind.

I slowly straightened, studying the cheaply made table that had come with the house.

I saw him in every cup of tea or well-dressed gentleman passing by our windows.

Each time a pair of seamen in blue jackets would arrive at the house with a letter from Captain Peyton or a basket of food, I always hoped they would have something from Elias too.

All I received was well-deserved silence.

When we’d tied on our bonnets and buttoned our coats, we set off into the breezy sunshine.

Yesterday, rain had pummeled our house and rattled the windows, but morning had dawned with few traces of the storm beyond palm leaves littering the road.

I gulped in the fresh sea air, even though I did not spare the harbor a single glance.

Try as I might, I would not be able to keep from seeking out the masts of the Marianne .

Mrs. Peyton walked with purpose away from the water, and I hurried to keep up with her despite her shorter stature. She must not have intended for this to be a leisurely walk.

“Are we going somewhere in particular?” I asked.

“I usually walk up Whitby Hill. They’ve a telegraph at the top, and sometimes there is news.”

I glanced around at the many green hills that enveloped the bay but couldn’t see a telegraph through the foliage. It could be any of them.

“The one with the tower.” She pointed to one of the taller hills with a medieval-looking ruin peeking up over the trees.

It lay near where the army was building its fort.

We’d get a very good view of the Marianne from that hill.

I increased my speed. It was a pity we hadn’t brought a telescope.

Perhaps I’d be able to pick out Elias’s red hair as he walked the deck.

But no. I slowed again. I wasn’t supposed to be looking for our ship. I wasn’t supposed to be trying to see Elias at all. I’d broken his heart and my own, and I was still trying to convince myself that it was out of necessity.

“Have you heard from the captain since his note yesterday?” I asked, fumbling with the buttons of my redingote. Though late November, the combination of sun and exercise made extra layers too hot.

“He only said they were sheltering from the storm in Vis, but he did not say how long they’d stay.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. Her tight words brought on a fresh wave of guilt. She must still be furious with me. Captain Peyton had visited only once, very briefly, since he’d confined us to the island.

Mrs. Peyton glanced back, looking me in the eye for the first time in weeks. Her brows knit. “He did say that he transferred Mr. Byam to the Unité .”

I nodded. When I’d said my goodbyes to Lewis, he’d told me of his demotion and impending transfer.

He hadn’t seemed as contrite as I’d desperately hoped, joking about Captain Peyton taking pity and stopping the punishment before Catterick had given him the full twenty-five lashes.

I’d been a fool to hope he’d ever learn.

And I’d likely not hear from him again for a very long time.

It was just as well.

I pulled off my coat and draped it over my arms. “Is the captain still very angry with you?”

Mrs. Peyton went silent for several moments as we passed the last line of red-roofed houses and started into the trees. “I think he was hurt more than angry. We all do foolish things when we’re hurt and afraid.”

Like pushing Elias away. I blinked at the uninvited thought. Rocks and pebbles appeared on the dirt path, and I moved closer to her in case she tripped. By now, she was nearing halfway through her pregnancy, and that was always the time Agnes started to feel off-balanced.

Pushing Elias away hadn’t come from hurt or fear.

Well, perhaps a little from fear—fear of what a future together would mean for him.

And a little for me. Even though I knew how to behave since my family had lived the tea-drinking life, Society cared as much about who your family was as they did about genteel manners.

How could we face constant opposition from our neighbors?

The hurt of the moment and what I’d done with it had made those fears more serious.

Mrs. Peyton started to puff but held her brisk pace as the incline increased.

I stayed a step behind her within reach.

If something happened to her on my watch, Captain Peyton surely would never forgive me.

That was, if he’d been able to forgive me for my outburst over Lewis, despite Lewis being a despicable, abandoning brother.

Perhaps I was scared about that as well.

I hugged my coat. Every person who had meant something to me had broken my trust. I’d convinced myself that perhaps Elias would be the first person to stay, but I’d pushed him away.

I couldn’t keep trusting in people. The emptiness compounded with each person who cut ties and walked out of my life.

It was safer not to trust, even if it was lonelier.

I kicked at a pebble and sent it skittering off the path.

Maybe she was right. That was quite a bit of fear.

It would seem we all carried it—Elias’s fear of war, Mrs. Peyton’s fear of being left behind, Captain Peyton’s fear for his wife and child.

Was life simply finding ways to push through the fear over and over until the last?

The path before us grew steeper, forcing my employer to finally slow down.

Mrs. Peyton hunched but kept advancing with dogged determination.

We weren’t so different, she and I. Neither of us wanted to be left, though she fought by clinging to those she loved, and I fought by pushing them away.

Her way seemed more difficult, but surely it also carried more hope.

“I forgive you for what you did,” she said. “I want you to know that.”

I started, coming alongside her. “Why would you? I hardly deserve it.” I wouldn’t forgive myself for something like that. Clearly, as I’d been harboring grudges for many people.

“For one, you have shown your penitence over the last few weeks.”

I had certainly tried, though my efforts felt lacking. There was only so much I could do to repair what I’d done.

“For another, I understand, to some degree, the panic one feels when someone they love is in danger, even if they’ve made mistakes that put them there.

” She sighed. “Most of all, I do not want to carry this burden of indignation any longer. It’s far too lonely a place to be. ” She gave me a hesitant smile.

I could understand not wanting to hold on to those feelings, but I could not comprehend how easily she forgave me. “Thank you. You are a better woman than I am.”

“I never knew how much pain your family was harboring because of my father’s decision. I was sorry to hear of it.”

I shook my head. “It was not your fault.” Her father couldn’t have known what would happen, but Mrs. Peyton was least to blame.

“Still, I wish I had known.” She gave me a sad smile that made my guilt burn and my heart ease all at once.

“How are you feeling, ma’am?”

“Better than I have since the start of the voyage.” While tired, she looked more energetic and full of life than I’d ever seen her. It seemed the walking really had done her some good. “I’d nearly despaired of ever feeling well again.” She gave a soft laugh.

A laugh. Had I heard her laugh at all in our time together?

“Do you think we will still be in Vis when the baby comes?” I asked.

“With four or five months left, I couldn’t say. We are at the mercy of the service.” A little glow had crept onto her face.