Page 63 of The Rebellious Countess
It is trembling grace
With sustained force,
It’s your hand in my hand
gently forgotten.”
And she had.
As if fate intervened, the earth released her foot just as he finished and she was standing, folded in her husband’s embrace as he whispered in her ear. “You are fine,ma chérie. Everything is fine.”
“Who is the author of such beautiful prose?” She asked.
“A young French poet you’ve probably never heard of named Victor Hugo.”
With her cheek held snugly against his chest, she smiled and relaxed her breathing as Elias stroked her hair with such a light, gentle touch, with the care one would only give to someone he treasured.
Victor Hugo was foreign to her, but the words were so heartfelt…and yet sorrowful. She never wanted to step out of her husband’s arms, because once she did, she wasn’t sure her delicate hold on her emotions wouldn’t shatter into pieces. They stood there in silence as she hugged him tight, until finally Father Charles cleared his throat and Elias set them apart.
“We are going back.” With his mind made up, Elias turned toward shore with her hand tucked in his. It was Máira who was forced to let go. She would never forget the feel of her hand in his when she seemed doomed to be swallowed by the underbelly of hell. She had no doubt anyone crossing this bay at low tide would feel as if they were on holy ground when they reach the solid rock foundation of Mont-Saint-Michel.
At any other time, with any other person, the experience would have sent her into a complete panic. The bogs of Scotland had been aggrandized into her psyche since childhood. The last thing she had ever wanted to do, was get lost in the bogs…again…and here, in a strange country, for one brief moment, she’d thought she was living her nightmare once more. The difference, however, had been Elias. He’d come to her, held her hand while he soothed her with a beautiful French poem she’d never heard before, and her childhood nightmare was lost on the tide.
He had saved her from her fears, and now she would force him to face his.
“We have come to find Simon. I will not leave without him.”
Elias froze. “You’ve been through enough.”
“Simon has been through more.”
“I can come back for Astley when you are safe.”
“Your grandfather is going to hang him.” It was a low blow, but he had to see reason.
“I won’t let that happen.”
Father Charles joined the conversation. “If we do not move tonight, I am afraid it will be too late.”
“I will not risk Máira.”
“You already have.” It was the worst thing she could have said to him. She knew it before the words left her mouth, but they had come this far, she would not let her fears destroy their hopes of saving Simon. She continued before Elias had a chance to argue further, allowing a nonchalance she didn’t feel to fill her voice. “Besides, Simon is the one.”
It was as if the hand he’d caressed reached up and slapped him across the cheek. Palm striking unsuspecting flesh with a resounding crack. His response was nothing but a whisper. A plea for her not to answer the question he asked. “What one?”
She glanced at the priest, not wanting him to hear what she was about to say. Luckily, Father Charles had proceeded some distance toward the abbey, allowing them space to argue quietly. “He’s the one I will marry if I find out I’m pregnant.”
Elias growled as he stalked forward, his chest brushing hers—he forced her to hold her ground and look up into his angry eyes. “It’s a little hard for him to do that if he’s dead.”
She shook her head. “He’s not dead.”
“How do you know that? His body could be decaying in the same mud which tried to swallow you whole.” There was no tenderness in his voice now, and despite all his claims that he could not be her husband, he was acting like an extremely jealous one. Her heart wanted to rejoice, because he did care. But if she melted, gave in to the love she felt, Elias would do what he needed to do to keep her safe and take her from the abbey without securing Simon. Yet in the end he would leave her anyway. She had to do whatever it took to save Simon. They were his only chance at survival. Her heart was secondary.
And she was going to hurt Elias in the worst possible manner with what she said next. “I’ve known Simon for a couple years. We’ve always had a…a connection.” Elias looked as if he might break a tooth the way his jaw ground through her words, but she coldly continued to drive her dagger through the wall of his emotions and into his heart. “Before you, I’d always dreamed of becoming the Countess of Astley.”
She winced when he raised his hand to run muddy fingers through his hair. He turned away from her, took two steps, and turned around with such speed she didn’t see how he got so close to lean down and look directly in her eyes as he said, “Ifyou are with child, we will remain married.”
Hope for a different future began to lift the corners of her mouth.
