She took a sip of tea, the hand that raised the cup pleasantly steady. And bewilderingly so. Her steady hand belied her shaky spirit. “I do not wish to be widowed twice over. But I could overcome even that fear if … if … well, the girls, you see. They have already lost one father. I could not stand it if they lost another.”
Whatever she had expected Sarah to do, it was not smile.
But she did. “I recognize this.”
“Recognize what?” Freddy asked.
“The I-must-keep-my-distance-to-avoid-pain bit. Have I ever told you the story of how I met Henry, of how we came to be married?”
Nora rubbed her hands together. “It’s a good one, Freddy. You’ll enjoy it.”
“We met in a bookshop. We wanted the same book, for different reasons. It was not in the bookshop, and we had to race to find it, to win it. I won the book, and Henry asked for my hand in marriage. He did not want to marry me for me, though. He chose me for very practical purposes and took me home to help with his daughters.”
Nora laughed. “Poor you. Flung into a pit of angry young women and unruly children.”
Sarah snorted. “You had a right to be angry, and the children were more confused than unruly. I was glad to be there. Henry wanted to marry me to care for them while he adventured across the Continent. Since his first wife's death, he had not been able to bear the pain of being home. Her death ripped a hole in his heart so large everyone else … fell out of it.”
Freddy found herself perched on the edge of her seat. The Cavendishes seemed like utter perfection to her, each cog of the family settled with their perfect pair, joy ringing, always, through their halls. Sarah and Henry the happy center of the wheel.
“What happened?” Freddy asked. “Why is he still here?”
Sarah shrugged, a sly smile tilting the corner of her lip up. “I suppose a little bit of it has to do with falling in love. Me with him, and him with me. I think that mended his heart. Just enough to hold another person. And then once he had another person in there, he realized it was strong enough to hold more. Hold even the pain that comes with loss. Should loss happen again.”
“I see,” Freddy said. “You are astute, Sarah.”
Sarah grinned. “Thank you. I do so try. Will you think on what I’ve said?”
She would, but … “But the girls. I cannot hurt them if I have the power to keep them from pain. They should not have to live that kind of loss once, let alone twice.”
“But, Freddy”—Nora’s head tilted toward her shoulder, her dark brows pulled together tight—“have you asked them what they want?”
“I … I have not.”
“It’s merely that …” Each word a hesitation, as if Nora feared to wound. “If Sarah were to be injured or worse this very afternoon, I would be devastated. But if I consider not ever having met her at all, never having had her influence and support, that is even more devastating.”
Sarah glowed and grinned into her teacup.
“I suppose we’d all prefer to never lose the ones we love,” Nora said, “But it’s not always possible.” She shook her arms and legs and head, as if trying to shake something off. “Let us leave this conversation behind for brighter topics. And let us keep Sarah rolled up safe as well.”
Sarah laughed, but Freddy couldn’t leave Nora’s words behind. Didn’t think she should.
“You think I should speak with Izzy and Bridget about this? Aren’t they young?”
Nora shrugged. “I would have very much appreciated my father speaking to me about my preferences. Even at a young age. I suppose it is not done, but … it would have been nice to know my voice mattered when it came to the details of my own life.”
“Yes,” Freddy murmured. “Excellent point.” Speak with the girls? About marriage and death and fear and … hope? She needed to let the notion percolate. Perhaps her daughters would prefer to love and lose than never to love at all. For even though she’d left the word trapped between her teeth, without a doubt that’s what it was—love.
Fourteen
Grant jumped to his feet on Wellington’s back and balanced low with bent knees, waiting for the other horse to come thundering around the ring in the opposite direction. His ankle ached, but he put its objections out of his mind. No time for them. He’d be fine soon enough. Though each time he tweaked a muscle these days it took longer for the muscle to heal. The doctor said everything seemed fine in there, nothing was out of place, but the ankle felt on the edge of something Grant couldn’t see. Couldn’t like that. Threw off his balance, messed with his strength and focus.
And he was already wavering too much for recovery, Freddy having given him a shove. He should not have told her about William’s fall, but if he meant to have her—forever have her—he wouldn’t hide the difficulties of his life from her.
The other horse came around, heading straight toward Wellington. Grant waited … waited … then jumped. And missed again. He fell to his shoulder and rolled across the dirt of the practice arena behind the amphitheatre. A blow rocked his bones. Almost as much as Freddy’s rejection had. Hard ground and the blinding force of a fall could not compare.
He stood, slapping the dust off his trousers. “Damn it all to hell. Again!” He waved a hand in the air to signal the trainer at the other end of the amphitheatre. “Ready Apollo.”
Wellington had stopped as soon as he’d realized Grant had not made it to the other horse, and Grant gathered Wellington on his own. The horse snorted in irritation next to Grant’s ear.
