Chapter 8
1812
“When I woke the next morning,” Anna’s mother said, “I thought that my life could not get any worse.”
“Did it?” Anna asked. She had no idea that her mother’s life had held such heartbreak. “I can’t believe how harsh Jonathan had been to you. Your mother was the one who was trying to spoil everything!”
“Yes, well, that wasn’t the worst of it, not on either account. You see, the next morning, my mother gave me a message from Jonathan.”
Anna cringed. “He sent one through her? That cannot bode well.”
“And it did not, I’m afraid. Jonathan wrote to let me know he was leaving.”
“Leaving?” Anna gasped. “No! What happened next? You did go after him, didn’t you?”
“But of course! And I found him. And when I did…”
1792
“Jonathan, please!” Louisa spurred her horse as fast as she could. Riding so hard sidesaddle wasn’t easy, and she was holding on as tightly as she could to prevent herself from falling. “The least you can do is stop and talk to me. I can’t believe you would leave without saying goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” he ground out, staring straight ahead at the dusty trail he was racing down, not even bothering to look over at her even though she had caught up to him.
Urging her horse even more, Louisa managed to bring her horse around to cut him off. They almost collided, but Jonathan halted in time. He had always been a talented rider.
His face, his eyes… Louisa felt as if she were wounded herself. He looked so devastated, so anguished and pained, so broken.
Something had happened, and she was terrified to find out what.
“Jonathan.” She reached toward him, but he jerked away so she couldn’t touch him, and his horse retreated a few paces.
“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice so cold Louisa felt as if she had turned to ice. “You made it quite clear—”
“What did I make clear?” she asked, a hint of desperation creeping into her question. “I’ve only—”
He reached into the pouch on the side of his belt and tossed coins in her face. “I would accept anything from you save for charity.”
The coins fell, all except for one that she unintentionally caught in her hand. She held it up and shook her head. “Don’t you see?” she whispered.
Immediately, his expression changed but only for a moment. For one second, she saw the fire burning brighter, hotter than ever before.
“Your mother,” he muttered.
“How could you!”
“It’s not that I doubted you,” he started.
“But you did,” she burst out. “You thought I would give you money to start over a new life without me? Oh, you fool! Jonathan, I want that for you, a new life—yes!—but a new life with me!”
“I should have known.”
“How much did she give you?” Louisa’s hope began to rise. Perhaps they could, at this very moment, run away together. It would be reckless and daring and an adventure.
And she would have to abandon the only life she had known, never see her parents again, and leave her mother and father with pain and a ruined family name. Everyone would speak about her and what she had done and the disgrace she brought upon her family.
But beyond the hope, a fury she never felt before welled up. “She is insufferable,” she fumed. “I will not bend to Mother’s will. Let us flee. Even if she did not give you enough, I can sell—”
“No.”
“But—”
“Louisa, it’s…” Jonathan fiddled with the reins, and his horse backtracked a few more steps. Louisa urged her horse around to close the distance between them, but her horse refused to cooperate. “My life has been fraught with so much discontent. I… I can’t…”
“Are you trying to say I’m not as bright as the sun anymore?” Now, thankfully, her horse cooperated. “Or do you mean to say—”
“I’m saying that we have no future together, Louisa. Go home.”
Louisa lurched forward so fast she almost fell off her horse, but she managed to secure his reins from him. “I know this isn’t you, that this isn’t what you want. No matter what you think or say, I will not stop loving you.”
Jonathan would not meet her gaze. “I will always look back fondly on the times we had together, but we shall not share any more experiences. No more dances. No more strolls through the park. No more secret meetings. No more—”
“No more Christmas kisses?” Louisa leaned forward to steal one early, but Jonathan shifted back in his saddle, too far out of reach. She stumbled, then, and almost fell from her horse, but strong arms encircled her. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound of her pulse throbbing in her ears as she stared up at the face of the only man she would ever love.
“You are beautiful,” Jonathan whispered, still holding her despite their being on separate horses. “You are kind and witty and charming. I’ll never forget the first time we danced. I was so nervous I forgot all of the steps.”
“I’ll never forget the first time we met. You saved the day.”
“Trudging through the snow to help a princess fulfill her quest.”
She giggled. “But I’m not a princess. I’m only—”
“You deserve to be treated like a princess. You deserve the kind of life I cannot provide. Please, Louisa. Do not make this any harder than it has to be, for both our sakes. You should marry, and you know that he cannot be me.”
Despite his words, Jonathan kissed her. It was free and spirited and passionate and so much more, the best kiss Louisa had ever been given, and also the worst, for when they broke apart, Jonathan rode off.