Page 20 of The Duchess’s Absolutely Delightful Dream (The Notorious Briarwoods #14)

I t was not going well.

The play was tomorrow, and the Briarwoods were leaving the morning after. Most of the trunks were already packed and were ready to be put into the coaches.

The servants had secured everything. Just the last few things would be added in the early morning so that they could easily depart the Highlands.

Perhaps none of them would ever come back. The thought sent a lance through Ellie’s heart, piercing it, leaving the most terrible of pains. Perhaps she would have to convince her brother to take a house in London this Season so they could visit Josephine, Emily, and Anne.

She would have to become a prodigious letter writer, because she did not think she could survive without her friends now that she had them. She had had only Hamish for so very long. And now, having three such lovely, young women in her life, she could not bear the idea of losing them.

But that was not the worst of all.

Yes, the play was ready to be presented as a final celebration to the locals, both nobles and villagers, tomorrow evening. But somehow, she was going to have to get her courage together to tell Octavian the truth, to tell him all her feelings.

But she was beginning to wonder if it would matter at all. He seemed so committed to some idea in his head, as if it was the word of some divinity on high carved deep inside him.

There might be no reasoning with him. He was so noble and so good, and she… Well, she’d known exactly what she was choosing when she had decided to take him into her life and her bed.

A part of her had also believed in the magic that her Hamish had promised. She eyed the sky, looking for the osprey, for some sign, for any hint or indication that things were going to work out.

Hamish had promised her he would send her a grand passion, the man that was meant for her, a man of her dreams. But it wasn’t working out that way. The oh-so-delightful dream that she thought she was having was fading from her fast, and it hurt.

It hurt that she did not know how to show Octavian that he did not need to be worried about her. He did not even need to be worried about himself and the love that might be lost.

No. All that he had to do was love her now, choose her now. Or so she thought. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps the living in the now was what was causing all the trouble.

And that’s when it hit her.

Och, it rattled through her and it hurt. It hurt so much she sucked in a shuddering breath. Nothing had hurt this much since she had watched Hamish fade away on a small bed, made to look huge by his ever-shrinking form.

She had to let Octavian go. Not only did she have to let him go, she had to tell him to go. She had to free him. She could not ask him to stay. Or even ask him to marry her.

Perhaps she could not even tell him that she loved him. Should she? Was her love a burden? Would he carry it into battle like a millstone rather than a boon?

She closed her eyes and put her hands over her face as she laid in the heather by the loch she loved so well, whilst the seals played, oblivious to her human trials.

“You love him. And I admire you greatly.”

The firm female voice, touched with a hint of regret, slipped through the Highland air.

Ellie rolled over quickly, wondering who the devil it was. A part of her knew before she even had a chance to look. It was Lady Drexel, his mother.

Ellie was quite accustomed to running into the vast number of Briarwoods who had come to visit all over her brother’s castle and estate.

Many of the dowager duchess’s children had come, though not all.

Hermia and her husband, the earl, had come with Octavian.

Because of course, when Octavian was away, his parents had missed him.

Whenever he came back from war, they spent as much time as possible with their son. She thought her brother brilliant, that he had made certain to invite them.

That Teague understood that with such short time available and such risk at hand, that he had to invite the earl and countess to be near their son.

She swallowed.

There was no point in denying her love, though it hadn’t been a question on the countess’s lips.

And so she said, “I do love him.”

Lady Drexel nodded.

And then, much to Ellie’s surprise, the lady plunked herself down on the heather beside her.

The countess adjusted her skirts, placed her hands back, tilted her body ever so slightly, and then lifted her face to the sun that would linger in the sky in the summer night.

“I’m sorry,” the countess said.

“Why?” Ellie blurted. “That I love him? Is the idea of a Scottish wife so very terrible?”

The countess tsked. “Oh, I should adore it,” she said. “And you, my dear? I could not ask for anyone better as a daughter-in-law. Fortune has sent me the most magnificent women to fall in love with my sons. I just wish my sons were as wise as the ladies they fell for.”

A laugh tumbled out of her throat. “I do not think it is possible for men to be as wise as ladies,” Ellie mused, tracing her fingers over the grass and the purple Highland flowers about her.

The countess eyed her then and laughed. “I do not think you are wrong. With the number of brothers I have, I can’t disagree with you.”

“With the number of brothers I have,” Ellie replied, “that is how I came to the conclusion.”

The countess laughed again. “I always adored my brothers. They were very clever. Difficult, of course. Always making fun. But the way our mother raised us, we were all open to love and ready for it, for the most part. Yes, of course, there were difficulties, and sometimes we had problems that prevented it. But we believed in true love, you see. We believe that for every one of us, there is the one. It was a Briarwood blessing, you see.”

Ellie sat and let out a soft breath, astonished by the admission. “And now what do you think?”

“Oh, I still believe in the blessing. But this next generation?” The countess frowned.

“They seem less convinced by the possibility of it, and it makes me sad. Perhaps it is the times that we live in. You see, my brothers and sisters and I, we grew up in a time of relative peace. Yes, there was that difficult bit with the American Revolution. But we didn’t really feel that, not as much, and things seemed hopeful, possible. ”

The countess wound her hands together as she explained, “The most wonderful books were being written in philosophy, the most hopeful ideas about what could happen for man were spoken, and the American Revolution in and of itself was an inspiring thing. It was asking the most important questions about the rights of humans, about what we should have and what we should fight for.”

The countess’s voice died off, and she looked away for a long moment.

Then her smile dimmed, replaced by a grim sorrow.

“And at first, France seemed like it would go the same way as the Americans, but it did not. And even darling America let us down, didn’t it?

The ladies don’t have their rights. Slaves still exist. And then, France, dear God. ”

The countess closed her eyes against the horror of it. “France took up the battle cry of independence and justice for all and then let out a wave of murder, cruelty, and brutality so intense that we are still feeling it shake through our lives. I fear we shall feel it shake through centuries.”

“I don’t think you’re wrong,” Ellie said softly. “From what I read, such things seem to happen just when we think we are about to achieve bliss.” She paused, then whispered, “I thought that perhaps with Octavian, I was about to achieve it too.”

The countess opened her eyes. “I sometimes wonder now what all that revolution was for if we just end up where we were. With kings, and tyrants, and brutality instead of the rights of man and woman.”

Ellie felt compelled to reach out and take the countess’s hand.

“The truth is change doesn’t always mean it’s going to be pleasant.

History shows us that without question. Your son came into my life.

I adore him. He gave me a new view of things.

He’s taught me so much, and I think I have taught him too.

And I will never regret it, not a bit. But it’s not going to end the way I wanted it to, the way I thought it would. And it makes me think…”

“Yes?” Lady Drexel prompted.

She eyed the countess, wondering if she dared confess what Hamish had told her about a sign.

She bit her lower lip, then rushed, “That blessing you speak of. I believed in that sort of thing too. Magic. A touch of it anyway. And maybe it’s the curse of this generation to lose their belief.

I don’t think I believe in magic anymore,” she rasped.

“I don’t think I believe in those kinds of blessings. I wanted to, but I can’t.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears and she searched the sky again.

“What are you looking for?” the countess asked softly.

“Another sign,” she said.

“Oh,” the countess replied, “and you have not gotten it?”

She gave a tight shake of her head, “No, and I am going to stop looking because I cannot live my life like that. I cannot live my life pushing and pushing. I feel like I will break from it.”

And then she shoved herself to her feet. “Forgive me. I must go and rehearse.”

The countess nodded. “I understand. My mother will be waiting for you, and we mustn’t disappoint her.”

“No,” she agreed.

“But this will,” Lady Drexel replied sadly, gesturing to Ellie.

“What?”

“Octavian leaving you. It will disappoint my mother. She is getting older now, a little bit more faded, and I worry the magic is slipping from her too. I don’t want to lose her, you see, or the magic she taught us to believe in.”

Something filled Ellie’s heart as she looked at Lady Drexel, who was a mother of full-grown sons, and she realized that the countess was afraid too.

And so Ellie reached down, took the countess’s hands, pulled her to her feet, and took her in a warm embrace.

Lady Drexel was afraid of the loss of her mother, and the loss of her son too.

Suddenly, she realized that they were very much alike. The years between them did not matter.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Ellie vowed impulsively. “If you want me to be. Even if I’m not your daughter in truth or in marriage.”

Lady Drexel sucked in a breath, her eyes warming, even as they shone with unshed tears. “Oh, my dear girl. I should like that very much indeed.”