“What is happening?” Juliet asked. Like a shockingly unfortunate answer to her question, the carriage started to shake vehemently. Juliet tried hard to find something to hold onto. Estelle, on the other hand, tried to hold her weight. Juliet looked outside through the shielded window. The horses had steered off course, and they were now headed straight for the woods. The carriage descended further, hitting almost every tall tree in its way.
Like a nightmare moment, time began to slow down for Juliet. Every chipped wood around the carriage started to disappear. She saw it, in the corner of her eye, even before she could fully register it, that they were headed for a giant tree, andthe horses didn't seem like they were ready to stop. Splinters of wood flew past her face as her lips slowly parted. Before she could find the energy to scream, the tree had stopped the carriage in its tracks, crushing it on impact. Juliet was thrown against the tree as the last of the carriage scattered across the crunchy leaves. She slammed her head against the hard bark, and before her body could hit the ground, her consciousness had disappeared, and everything had utterly gone blank.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Weston couldn't believe his ears when he heard his wife had left the manor.
“And what? You just let her leave?” He screamed, confronting one of the footmen at the entrance. “You were supposed to keep her in here!”
“We—we didn't know that, my lord.” The frightened footman replied, his face draining of color.
Weston sighed. He wasn't wrong. There never was any order to stop Juliet from leaving whenever she wanted. He did not know this would be the thing that sent her away from him. He thought of returning to the drawing room to confront his mother instead. This was all her fault. If she hadn't been perpetually disdainful towards his wife, she would still be here. He headed to their bedroom, mouthing a prayer as his feet sped across the hallway’s shiny floors. If this were what he was thinking, he would have a bigger problem on his hands. He pushed the doors open, and the state of the room not only confirmed his fears but made his heart drop in shock. All of Juliet's dresses were gone from the wardrobe. Only a few heavier ones lay on the bed. Her jewels were gone from her dresser as well. He walked in, feeling dejection slowly take over his body. He was never going to recover from this. How long had she been gone? Did she goback to Willowbrook? Was she ever planning on coming back? He knelt on the floor and felt his eyes heat up with tears. He had managed to live through the past six years guarded and aloof. No one had managed to penetrate the walls around his heart.
Except her. She managed to not only break through the walls but also obliterate them. She owned his heart now, despite his failed attempts to keep it from happening.
Now she was gone, and he was again back to his roots. The second time he had to open his heart to someone, he had gotten disappointed again.
He rose from the floor and wiped the tears from his eyes. He would know where she was at the very least a day later. He just needed to wait. He walked out of the bedroom, down the stairs, across the halls, and towards the doors. His feet seemed to be leading him for some reason. It didn't surprise him when he realized they were leading him to the walls, towards the garden. It was the only place he could feel connected to her, even if she wasn't around him.
The fragrance of the roses attached itself to his nose the instant he stepped into the garden. He could feel her presence in here. It was like she was in every rose, every lily, and every freshly cut leaf around. His hands grazed past the flowers, memories of all the conversations they'd had filling his brain. How she had laughed whenever he had made jest of someone, how she had gently admonished him regarding other matters. The more he remembered, the more he realized he couldn't live without her.
“My lord?” A frantic male voice called from the entrance.
He frowned. The servants knew better than to get this close to the garden. Whatever he had to say had to be important. Weston appeared before the servant, who had the most worried expression fixed on his face.
“What is the matter?” Weston asked, the same quizzical look still lingering on his face.
“It's terrible.” The servant replied. “It is Lady Juliet.”
“What happened to her? Has she been found already?”
“Yes.” The servant replied, the fervent worry lacing his voice now more than ever. “It appears she might have gotten in an accident on her way into town.”
Weston's heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“They say her carriage crashed in the woods. They do not know if she is alive or not.”
Weston swallowed hard in fear, feeling his knees almost betray him.
“Get my horse.” He struggled hard to prevent his voice from shaking.
“My lord—”
“I said, Get my horse!”
Without hesitation, the servant headed towards the stables at full speed. Weston stepped out of the garden, feeling uttercoldness swim down his body. He started to mumble another prayer, one stronger than the previous one. He hoped to death that the news wasn't accurate. He hoped this wasn't happening again. He hoped the love of his life was not about to lose her life.
Not again.
He rode with volition. This was the first time he was riding without feeling at peace. His hands trembled on the saddle as the horse galloped across the rough pathways. He continued to hope the worst wouldn't have happened before he got there. Flashes of Eliza falling off her horse disrupted his brain as he continued to speed through the rocky road. The memories began to grow even more vivid that they messed with his line of vision. He had to shut his eyes tight and open them to eliminate the disturbing reminiscence. His heart pounded hard in his chest as he tightened his grip on his horse. He wanted to get there as soon as possible. He wanted to have her in his hands and feel her hot breath against his knuckles. He wanted to see her live.
The servant who had delivered the news to him was not far behind, galloping along on a black stallion as well. Soon, they crossed over into the woods, leaving slight civilization behind. Weston pushed the horse to go even faster, and soon, he started to skip across dead logs and dried leaves. The fallen carriage appeared ahead of him. He could see the horses with their sides on the floor. The carriage had been completely dismantled. He could see a figure lying on the floor and another one leaning against a tree, breathing heavily. The closer he got, the clearer the figures became. Estelle held on to a low-hanging branch, breathing for her life. He could see her hand smeared with blood, and his heart pumped even faster in fear. He did notdoubt it anymore that Juliet was the one on the floor, unmoving.Lifeless.
He could not stop his horse fast enough. He jumped down and raced to his wife. He fell to the ground and wrapped his arms around her.
“Juliet.” He called, softly, feeling his eyes start to burn again. “Juliet please—” His voice cracked. He held her face and inspected it. Her eyes were closed, and her forehead had a stretched-out cut on it. The blood on the cut had been smeared across her entire forehead. He looked back at Estelle and the blood on her hands.
It must have been Juliet's blood.
