Page 23 of A Gentleman's Wife

Chapter Twelve

Marianne stood in the sunshine for what felt like the first time in weeks and basked in the warmth. She’d tried to stay busy and not let the persistent weather affect her mood, but now that she stood in the courtyard, she could feel the difference. The many years she’d spent cooped up in her parents’ house must have made her desperate. Even just standing in the courtyard, listening to the autumn wind whisk through the leafy trees, rolling green hills and clouded blue skies in the distance, it did her heart good to not have to sit behind a glassy windowpane, to enjoy it in person.

The whinny of a horse carried across the way, making Marianne’s heart skitter over a beat. She pressed her hand to her chest and took a deep breath. It had been many years since her accident; in fact, she felt like an entirely different person. The young girl who had worried about how her injuries would scar, who had been berated by her mother, who had been forbidden by her father from riding ever again… she would be dazzled and amazed to know that her future would not only hold a blessed distance between her relations, but also marriage to a man who was constantly winning over her heart.

“Has the sunshine called to you, as well?”

As though he had materialized from her own thoughts, Marianne turned with a gasp at Thomas’s voice. He walked toward her wearing simple black boots, fawn-colored breeches, a dark green vest over his white shirt, a loosed cravat, and a broad smile. She preferred his appearance like this, more casual and relaxed than his more formal master-of-the-house attire. And perhaps it was the way the sunlight shone, but there was a particular sparkle in his brown eyes that made her almost think he was pleased to see her.

“Indeed,” Marianne was finally able to say. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“And perhaps one of the few we’ll have before the snow comes.”

“Does it snow often during the winter here?” she asked.

“At least one heavy snow is expected before Christmas, but with all the rain we’ve had, I wanted a moment of sunshine so it’s not taken for granted.”

Marianne intended to return his smile, but the muscles of her right arm suddenly clenched, and she let out a strangled gasp. She covered her left hand over the top of it as it curled into her chest, and internally cursed the gods that allowed Thomas to see her like this.

“Are you all right?” His voice was soft and urgent, but she didn’t see his face. Her eyes were closed as she waited for the spasm to pass.

“Yes… give me a moment.” Marianne’s words were cross to her own ears, but it was only due to the pain and the tightness of her chest, and she hoped he knew that.

She took a deep breath as the pain slowly melted away, until she finally gained a little more control of herself again, allowing her to stand straight. Only then did she notice how close he stood to her, his boots right next to her own.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that.” Marianne did not meet his eyes.

“Please do not apologize.” She could tell he chose his words delicately. “Is that a precursor for… more?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s much more difficult to identify when a seizure will come on, and those are much less frequent. These hand cramps happen every so often. When there’s been an overabundance of stress or poor weather.”

Having mostly recovered, she hoped he understood her sardonic smile, but his concern remained as he studied her face. “If we’ve not yet sent out invitations for the ball, then perhaps we should postpone until you’re feeling better.”

“Absolutely not.” Marianne’s shame could have overwhelmed her. “I won’t have you delaying a societal norm because of me. Besides, I’ll have less anxieties about it after it’s over, so I’d rather not put it off any longer than necessary.”

He nodded, brows still narrowed. “Very well.” Then he extended his arm to her and said, “Shall we sit?”

He led her farther into the courtyard to a stone bench tucked beneath a large, billowing oak tree. Once he saw her seated, he settled himself beside her and turned toward her. “Will you tell me about it?”

“The ball?” she asked.

Thomas shook his head. “Your hand. And your illness. To understand the full breadth of it all.”

Marianne met his gaze, heart racing at his request. She knew he could be trusted, for she’d never met a more patient and understanding man, but still, she was unpracticed in explaining her situation to anyone other than doctors.

She let out a breath. “Very well. What would you like to know?”

“You were born this way?”

“I was. My mother was ill during much of the time she carried me, and because of that, was heavily blamed for delivering such a defective child. It’s likely why I receive such disdain from her to this day.” Marianne shook her head. “I was taught to cross my hand just so to avoid it being seen, and my parents always insisted I wore gloves, even when it wasn’t requisite for company. It was my first nanny who was the most wonderful, patient woman. Even when my doctors or parents or siblings would tell me how ugly the affliction was, she would insist they were wrong, and she told me I was beautiful just as I was. Though I’m not able to use the fingers for much, it doesn’t fist all the time. Usually it just hangs to my side when it’s not cramped or clenched. And I have a salve from my doctor that Eliza applies every night which is supposed to help relax the muscles.”

Thomas nodded slowly. “And the epilepsy?”

Hearing him say the word was a unique experience, for he spoke without the doctor’s clinical form or her mother’s disgusted tone. He said the word tenderly, and it urged her to drop her guard a little more in his presence.

“That came later in my childhood. I had a good deal of masters who refused to come and teach me because of my hand. I was unable to stitch or play well, and my mother continued to blame me for her humiliation. I was still able to do things like read and write and paint to pass the time, though I did enjoy spending time out of doors with the horses.” A light neigh from the stables sounded in the distance and made Marianne smile sadly. “But after my first episode, my father forbade any riding and demanded I stay indoors where it was easier to be safe. Though that wasn’t true at all. Because it’s hard to tell when it will happen, I could be at the top of the stairs and unable to steady myself or seated at the dinner table with a fork in my hand.”

She tried to carry a lightheartedness in her tone, but she sensed the bitterness on her tongue.

---