Chapter Twenty-Six

Somehow, she’d managed to elude everyone in town for a full week. No one knew she was back in Brookenshire except for the servants at William’s service. Why she’d accepted to come here, she wasn’t certain. She’d never set foot in William’s house before, but it seemed to be the only place where she would be able to be alone.

Alone. She wished she could be alone. In this house, it was impossible. Not because of visitors or the servants. They left her to her own devices. No, it was William. His presence permeated the house. Every little thing in the manor reminded her of him. From the dark hues of his desk to the nearby forest, they all screamed William. Yet, she could not will herself to go elsewhere. Where could she go? She depended on her husband’s allowance and he was not there.

Emily stood at the door to his study. Somehow, she always ended up here. She tried to keep away from it, but her feet dragged her back to the sunny room. It was the most peaceful room in the house. Perhaps, she reasoned, as she settled in the leather chair behind the medium-sized desk, it was because of the floor-to-ceiling windows that presented stunning views of the fields and forests behind the house. They were different to anything she’d seen before. The curtains that framed them were white and light, giving the room an ethereal appearance when the moonlight shone through the glass. Emily slipped off her shoes. Her toes curled over the thick carpet. The last rays of the setting sun warmed her cool flesh. What would it feel like to run wild in the fields? To leave everything behind? To not have a care in the world? To leave your body behind and run. To enjoy the taste of the water on your tongue, the feel of the air against your flesh, the thickness of the ground beneath your feet … what would it be like to be part of nature?

She closed her eyes as the last drop of sunshine blinded her. What was she thinking? Why was she even considering these things? She turned the chair around and grasped the edge of the table. She was going to stand and leave, but the smooth wood called to her. Emily ran her fingertips over the pure craftsmanship, bending over little by little until her head rested on the surface. Emily closed her eyes. Even his furniture smelled like him. What was William doing at this moment? Was he still in bed? Did he still have that awful cough? Or did he heal faster because he was an animal? Was he running as a wolf through the London streets, terrorizing the citizens that were not like them? Was he howling to the moon? Or was he perhaps already rescuing another maiden in distress? The thought had her pulling away from the table and storming out of the room.

***

Emily woke up in a cold sweat. She huddled beneath the blankets, shivering. Only now, in the impenetrable darkness of the bedroom would she admit that she missed William’s warmth at her side. She turned to one side and the other, but sleep would not come again. She dragged herself out of bed and stood disoriented in the middle of the room. What was she going to do? Mentally shaking herself, she slipped into her robe and slippers. Quietly, she opened the door to her bedroom and padded down the hallway. The house was silent and empty. She passed several rooms and the thought struck her that they were scarcely furnished. Had she and William had a happy marriage it would have fallen to her to decorate the place and make it homey.

She chewed on her bottom lip. Chandeliers and silk wall hangings would go well in this room. In this other one, the windows were not that large and mirrors would certainly help create the impression of more light. This one—Emily paused. She sighed. Here she was again, back at William’s study. This one was perfect. She turned on her heel and descended the spiraling staircase. She tiptoed to the back of the house and escaped into the garden. A cool breeze tousled her hair and her slippers slipped on the wet grass but she plunged ahead. William’s garden opened up into vast fields and finally into a lush woodland. She roamed through the garden, finally settling down on a stone bench beneath a tree that was quickly losing its leaves.

Bringing her knees up to her chest, she circled them with her arms, and leaned her head on them. Emily sighed and closed her eyes, hoping for peace. Instead, the dream she’d had earlier slammed into her conscious. She struggled upright.

It was the same dream again. The one where she’d be with William atop a hill, beneath the moonlight. He’d cup her cheek and she’d lean into him. He’d shift and then—Well, previously she would wake up. Now, now the dream became a nightmare. William would shift and she’d lean forward to pet him only to discover that she too was a wolf. She’d wag her tail and look at William with excitement, only to discover that he was lying in a pool of blood at her side. When she’d go to him, she was human again. She would wrap her arms around him and feel the warm liquid seep into her nightgown. Wailing, she’d wake up.

Emily rubbed her eyes, willing the image to vanish. She glanced at the house. She couldn’t stay here anymore. William was too close. Besides, he was bound to come back eventually and she couldn’t bear to see him. She had come to the conclusion, that they’d be one of those couples that lived in separate houses and led different lives. He’d be free to have as many mistresses as he’d want, and to come and go as he pleased, while she’d be confined to being Mrs. Dalton, abandoned in a house somewhere where no one remembered her, heart-broken, with loneliness consuming her day by day. Emily wiped a stray tear from her eyes.

Damnation. She never cried. At least, not until she’d met William. Lately, it seemed it was the only thing she was capable of doing. Anger slammed into her. Enough. She’d had enough. She’d write a letter to him requesting her allowance to travel to a coastal town. The farther away from him she went the better.