Kenneth knew she meant to comfort and help him through his terrible tale, but she was only making it worse.
“No, don’t you see?” he asked, his voice harsh. “He was looking for me. He was the only one who knew I’d gone downstairs to fill my stomach with more flummery. Nobody else knew.”
“You can’t know that,” Joanna countered quickly.
“I do,” he snapped and removed his hand from hers. “He was found at the top of the stairs leading to the servants’ quarters. There’s no other explanation. My father said he was helping others escape but then he disappeared and was never seen again. Edward went to look for me, and that was that. He died because of me. Trying to save me. It’s my fault.” A solitary tear rolled down his cheek, his gaze distant as he relived the pain. “If not for me, Edward would have been alive today,” he mumbled, the words heavy with guilt.
The burden of that belief had haunted him for years, shaping his perception of himself and influencing his choices.
“You were a child, only seven years old. You could not have known what would happen,” Joanna insisted, her compassionate gaze meeting his troubled eyes. “Surely your parents told you this.”
Kenneth cringed. “They do not know. To this day, I haven’t told anyone about this but my friend Leonard. And he knows only because one liquor-filled night loosened my tongue.”
Joanna’s eyes grew wide. “You never told your parents? But why?”
Kenneth shrugged and got up. He paced the room before stopping in front of the drawn curtains and looking outside. “I was a coward, as you said. I was scared that they would confirm my worst fears, that they would hate me, that I would be sent away to a boarding school and left there. Some children at Eton didn’t go home for summer because their parents didn’t want them. I’d heard these stories, and I thought I’d become one of them. I even thought they might send me to the orphanage,” he scoffed bitterly.
Joanna remained still in her seat. Her hands were now folded in her lap, and she exuded a quiet composure that he envied. “They would never have done that. They’d lost one child, they would not have wanted to lose another. Besides, it was not your fault. I wish someone had told you that before, when you were young and needed to hear it.”
He saw her swallow hard and knew she meant every word. This startled him, as he’d assumed that she would be disgusted with him, that she’d get up and walk away. But no. She remained in her seat, determination and sympathy etched on her face.
“Leonard said the same, but I didn’t believe him. He doesn’t know my parents the way I do. Everything fell apart after Edward died.” He shrugged and leaned against the windowsill.
“It is natural, I suppose. I can’t imagine what it would be like to suffer the loss your family did.”
“It was bad before then,” Kenneth added. “My parents’ marriage was never happy, but I think they each found solace in us.Mother doted on me, and Father enjoyed raising Edward to be his heir. He flourished in his role as a teacher to the next generation. It kept their marriage cordial, shall we say. After Edward’s death, their frail agreement fractured, as did our family. My mother withdrew from the world entirely, and my father fled into one affair after another, eventually moving a mistress into our London home, much to my mother’s humiliation.”
Joanna flinched at the mention of his father’s affairs, and he narrowed his eyes at her. He waited to see if she wanted to say something, but she composed herself and motioned for him to continue.
“He didn’t care that he was making my mother worse. In the end, their relationship—if one can even call it that—fell apart, completely. They tolerated each other when they had to, but their antipathy was clear most days.” He looked down at the floor while Joanna got up, closing the distance between them.
“Is that why you don’t want to marry? Because of your parents’ marriage?” she asked gently.
Kenneth nodded. “One of the reasons, yes. I knew theirs had been an arranged marriage from the start, so that was never an option. But…” He pressed his lips together and looked away.
“What about love? A marriage based on friendship and respect?” Joanna pressed gently, as though he were a wild animal she might frighten away.
“Love is worse,” he said bitterly. “Love would mean opening myself up to pain again if I should lose that love.”
Joanna wetted her lips. “Love is not a guarantee for happiness, I know that. Yet, many people are happily married if their unions are based on that.”
“I know, but that is not necessarily what I mean. I mean… I could not bear to lose someone I love again, Joanna. Edward’s death changed who I am as a person. He and his passing shaped who I am. That night changed everything. For years, I was afraid of fire. I could not sleep with the fireplace lit. With time, those fears faded, but…”
Joanna glanced at the dormant fireplace, and her eyes widened as if she suddenly understood. “What happened at Almack’s brought it all back? Is that why you have the buckets?”
He nodded, ashamed of his weakness. “I can’t get the smell of fire out of my nose, no matter what. I tried snuffing tobacco, and I hate that stuff. Didn’t work. I couldn’t sleep for days until I asked the servants to patrol the house to ensure no fire could break out… I am weak. An embarrassment.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“No, you are not. You are someone who suffered a tragedy. Of course, you are entitled to react this way. If I had known any of this, I would not have been so hard on you. I never would have called you a coward.”
She meant it, he could tell from her tone.
“But I am. I am a coward. I keep thinking that I should have told someone where I was that night so long ago. I could have saved Edward. I could have gone back inside and looked for him. I looked for you, after all.”
She took his hands in hers and squeezed. “You are a grown man now. You were a child then. Besides, the fact that you came for me, you looked for me, doesn’t that tell you that you’re not a coward? You ran into a fire—the thing you are afraid of the most.”
Kenneth shook his head. “Not what I am afraid of most,” he corrected her. “What I am afraid of most is losing someone else I love. That is why I don’t want to marry or even court. The idea of losing someone… it is unbearable to me. And now, here I am, trapped in my past again. I understand this is not what you want, what you deserve, especially not since you relied on me and our ruse to save you from your fate. I know you must be disappointed in seeing me for who I am.”
“Kenneth,” Joanna murmured, and he let his fingers glide over the back of her hands. “I do not think less of you. If anything, I admire you. You are brave, and I wish you were not so tortured by a past you played no role in bringing about.”
