Page 54 of The Baron’s Reluctant Bride (Marriage Mart Scandals #4)

Anthony dragged a hand over his face and let out a small yawn. Not only was he exhausted to his bones due to his lack of adequate sleep, but he was hungry.

An hour later, his boots thudded lightly on the floor as he made his way to the breakfast room. He could still smell the lingering pungent scent of gunpowder and seawater that reminded him of that night.

Reaching the doors of the breakfast room, he casually strolled in. His eyes fell on Henry, who was seated with a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.

“Farraway, good morning,” Henry greeted in a chirpy voice.

Anthony sent him a brief nod in greeting. “’Morning, Barlow.”

“Another troublesome night?” Henry asked, studying the dark circles underneath his eyes. It did look better than the previous day.

The Earl sighed. “Another troublesome night, I have to agree.”

The two men exchanged a look of understanding before Anthony walked over to pour himself a strong coffee. He preferred his coffee black with a whisper of sugar.

“You do understand, I have them sometimes too. The nightmares.” Henry watched his cousin sit down across from him.

Moments in their mornings before the women joined them were times he liked to savour.

Both men had always been close since they were children but after the tragic incident, they had grown even closer.

“I do imagine you have it worse than I do.”

Anthony inhaled a breath and then released a deep sigh.

He stared into thin air for a few moments, his lips forming a grimace as an image of one of the men who had recently joined their crew flashed in his mind.

He was so young—the boy—and Anthony remembered him to be rather jovial, always merry and telling jokes.

He could have had a full, long life. Instead, Anthony had watched his small frame struggle against angry waves the minute he was thrown into the water.

“I can never shake the guilt off,” Anthony murmured, still staring at nothing. “I cannot stop blaming myself.” There was a small break in his voice. “Their cries, seeing their faces as they struggled against death…it overwhelms me. I failed them.”

Henry watched the light in his cousin’s eyes dim. His brows furrowed; concern etched on his face.

“I do not know how to live with the guilt. Sometimes I fear it will completely crush me,” Anthony said.

“You cannot—” Henry paused and sighed. “You must longer allow yourself to shoulder the blame any longer, Anthony. You must find a way to move forward. You did everything in your power that night. There are some things beyond one’s control and that night was one of those situations.

I was there too and I tried to help as many as I could, and still, not everyone could have been saved. ”

“Do you think this would have been easier had I also passed on that night?” Anthony asked.

“You ought not entertain such notions.” Henry’s tone was a bit sterner than he intended, but seeing Anthony’s forehead crease and his lips pursed told him he had struck the right nerve.

Anthony nodded slowly, as if fully trying to come to terms with what Henry had said.

He knew there was truth to his cousin’s words but surely Henry didn’t expect the weight of his past that he'd carried around for years on his shoulders to suddenly get thrown off in an instant.

He hoped that someday, he would finally be able to release the paralysing guilt he felt.

The sound of women laughing just outside the breakfast room drew their attention to the door. In a matter of seconds, the doors opened and Anthony’s mother and sister walked in, the air shifted immediately upon their entry. They wore bright smiles on their faces as they greeted the men.

“Am I the only one that is beyond excited for the house party at the Durendale estate?” Blanche gushed, her eyes widening with glee.

“I am quite positive Aunt Julianna is as thrilled, if not more,” Henry commented.

The Countess smiled at him.

“I assure you, I'm not." Anthony's dry tone drew all eyes. "My attendance is merely a matter of social obligation."

Blanche rolled her eyes and pouted. “Do not dampen the mood for the rest of us then.”

A round of laughter passed about the table. For the rest of the time spent at breakfast, they discussed the house party and both Blanche and Lady Julianna were more than willing to share their expectations for the event.

The Duke and Duchess of Durendale lived in the neighbouring estate, with only a lake separating theirs from the Farraway estate. Anthony was of the opinion that his mother and sister were far too excited to be going there, but he wasn’t going to turn the milk sour at the table.

***

“Amelia, shall we take a turn about the garden?” Emma asked her cousin, hope blooming in her chest. “It is a most agreeable day, is it not?”

Amelia looked out the window and she couldn’t deny that the weather was indeed remarkable. A sense of confinement within the walls was beginning to settle upon her, so maybe a walk would do her some good. “Yes, shall we?”

The two ladies left the house while everyone else went about tending to their own personal tasks. Amelia was only too pleased to have escaped Lord Felton.

During and after breakfast, Lord Felton had his attention fixed on her, so much so that she knew he was going to come up and engage her in a conversation at the slightest chance he got.

Thankfully, her brother-in-law, Lord Westbrook, mentioned something about wanting to discuss some matters with him.

The two men had disappeared after breakfast and Amelia could not care where to.

All she knew was that she was beyond grateful to Lord Westbrook.

If only he could keep Lord Felton occupied throughout the time they’d be spending here, she felt grateful that her sister had decided to come.

The sweet scent of roses reached both their nostrils as they walked arm-in-arm through the neatly groomed gardens.

Amelia ran her fingers over some of the flowers, stopping to admire some of them and inhale their scent.

She had always loved roses. They were her favourite kind of flowers.

“My parents have expressed their hopes that I make a match during the house party,” Emma said, her eyes lowering to the ground for a moment. “ High hopes they have.”

Amelia produced a small chuckle. “Do you not wish to be wed?”

“I do,” Emma replied, sighing. “It does not remove the pressure it creates however.”

Amelia could agree with that. Her mind flashed back to Edmund Felton’s persistent and overwhelming attention at breakfast and at tea the previous day and her heart sank.

The thought of courtship was indeed compelling and most of all to someone like Lord Felton.

Amelia couldn’t place why she felt perturbed by him but she simply did.

“I do pray that I meet a gentleman who is at the very least good company,” Emma said. “And someone who doesn’t see women as mere objects for reproduction.”

Amelia snickered. “That is a good prayer to start with.”

“What about you?” Emma asked, chuckling. “Surely, your parents have expectations of you as well. Do you hope to find a love match?”

Amelia pondered over her cousin’s question for a moment.

Her family’s expectations indeed put pressure on her, but she hadn’t considered the possibility of a love match for herself so much.

It was far rarer and only the luckiest of ladies were privileged to experience it.

Luck was not her strongest suit, however.

“I presume it would be pleasant to have a love match. Although, I wouldn’t hold such an expectation too dear to my heart. It may never happen,” Amelia expressed.

“You cannot say things like that, Amelia!” Emma huffed out a breath. “You must hope for the best. Any gentleman would be lucky to have you. You must believe that.”

Amelia sent her a sweet, grateful smile. She decided Emma was right. She was to hope for the best. Hope might be a dangerous thing but it was better to hold on to it rather than think the worst.

“Perhaps I shall have a love match as well,” Emma said with excitement. Her eyes sparkled and her steps picked up a rhythm along the path. “I hope he at least enjoys operas and travel. It would be a merry and diverting prospect.”

“You deserve all the love, dear cousin,” Amelia told her. Her eyes held true sincerity. “I hope you find it and I hope the gentlemen that shall be in attendance at the house party recognise that.”

Emma giggled, her lips spreading into a grin.

They continued to walk down the path until they came to a large clear lake. The water’s surface glimmered in the morning sun, and the air smelled cleaner.

“Isn’t it just beautiful?” Emma trilled, walking faster towards it.

“It is,” Amelia concurred.

They stared at the water’s surface for a while, watching as some birds came to perch on it, while some stayed by the edge.

Emma’s eyes scanned the environment and they immediately brightened when she spotted the boathouse. “Oh, Amelia, look!” She rested one hand on her cousin’s arm and pointed a slender finger into the small distance. “We should ride a boat onto the water. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

A cold chill ran over Amelia and she froze. The colour drained from her face at the thought of getting in the water.

Emma cast a sideways glance at her and forced back a chuckle. “Pray tell, are you still holding on to your fear of water?”

“It is not a fear of water,” Amelia argued. “It is a fear of large bodies of water. You surely do not see me complain when I’m holding a glass.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You need to face your fear, Amelia.”

“You’re not the one who almost drowned.”

“No, I am not. But nothing will happen. It is only a trip to and from the lake. There are no water lilies to tempt you this time and we will be in a very sturdy boat,” Emma suggested. “Overcoming this phobia might be something you find to be liberating.”

Amelia scoffed. “Liberating? I hardly think throwing myself into the very face of my fear would be liberating. ”

Emma sighed. “Very well then. Maybe not liberating right away, but perhaps eventually. You shall never know until you try. What is more, how do you hope to travel if you cannot board a boat or ship over large bodies of water? ”

Amelia said nothing. She could already feel dread slowly settle in her stomach and her palms growing clammy.

Her resolve wavered and unlike her, she was being pulled in opposing directions by a long-harboured fear and a yearning to prove her mettle.

In truth, how much longer would she let this fear hold her back?

Had she not harboured a desire to travel across the globe, to encounter other continents?

To immerse herself in their exceptional tunes and join in their company?

“Very well then,” Amelia said reluctantly, having heard enough of Emma’s persistent encouragement. “We shall take a boat onto the lake.”

Emma’s high-pitched squeal nearly caused Amelia’s ear drums to stop working, and maybe if it had, it would have been an efficient reason not to partake in the boat ride.

Across the lake and far down the open countryside, the Earl of Edenbrook rode past tall green trees on horseback. The wind blew across his face, the rhythmic clash of hooves sinking into the grassy earth offered him a much- needed distraction from his inner turmoil.

Before he had left his home and set out on his horse—Willow—his mind was overwhelmed by thoughts of the impending house party. His decision to ride was simply to distract himself. It also helped that the weather was favourable.

Even now, however, his mind was taken back to the last social gathering he had graced with his presence before joining the Navy.

It was the Radcliffe ball held in the country home of Lord and Lady Radcliffe.

He remembered how carefree and self-assured he’d been.

Breezy as the summer wind and possessing a quiet boldness.

He had stood with other gentlemen as they drank together and had even danced with two of the ladies.

It had been a delightful night, and he was even more charming to be around, but in comparison to his current state of mind, the contrast was obvious.

It was doubtful he would ever again feel so unburdened. Not stricken by guilt and not keeping himself from social obligations. A man could dream, could he not?

He had not once stopped Willow and had allowed himself to be lost in his thoughts. When he finally broke out of his musings, he realized they were approaching a lake. It was the lake that partitioned his family’s property from the Durhams’.

He slowly brought his horse to a stop, his eyes beholding the placid view before him. The sound of someone chuckling drew his attention and he quickly traced it, his gaze landing on a small boat with two ladies out in the middle of the water.

Curiosity held him bound and he watched them for a while, noticing that only one of the ladies was rowing.

A crack of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.

He couldn’t recognize them yet, not that he would if he was any closer.

His non-existent social life hardly made it possible for him to remember faces or names except if it was an already familiar face.

He heard the one rowing say something to the other lady but he couldn’t make out the words from the distance. Not wanting to make them uncomfortable if they saw him, he decided it was best he leave.

But nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.