Snowflakes and Scandals

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The crisp winter air nipped at Eleanor's cheeks as she glided across the frozen surface of the Serpentine. Beside her, Lillian's laughter rang out, a joyous sound that brought a smile to Eleanor's face despite the melancholy that had settled in her heart over the past few days. Lillian would soon be her step-daughter, but she already loved her as if she were her own.

“Watch me, Lady Eleanor!” Lillian called out, attempting a small twirl on her skates. Lillian's pink cheeks flushed with excitement, and her eyes sparkled with delight.

Eleanor clapped her gloved hands together. “Well done, Lillian! You're becoming quite the accomplished skater.”

She’d agreed to take the children skating because she wanted to see if they were both happy with her becoming Ambrose’s wife. Harry was so excited. He already hero worshiped His Grace.

Lillian had simply hugged her and said her Christmas wish had come true. As if to prove her point, Lillian skate by and blew Eleanor a kiss.

From the bank, Harry waved to them, bundled up in his warmest coat and scarf. He had opted to stay on solid ground today, content to watch his mother and Lillian enjoy the ice. Eleanor waved back, her heart swelling with love for her son.

As they continued to skate, Eleanor's mind wandered to Ambrose. Since their conversation in the garden, things had been strained between them. She had tried to maintain the facade of the perfect, emotionless duchess-to-be, but it was wearing on her. Every time she saw the confusion and hurt in Ambrose's eyes, she felt her resolve weakening.

“Lady Eleanor,” Lillian's voice broke through her reverie, “can we skate a little farther out? The ice looks so smooth over there.”

Eleanor hesitated, glancing towards the center of the lake. The ice did indeed look smooth and inviting, but she noticed most kept to the edges, unsure of the thickness further out where if you fell through, the water ran deep. “I'm not sure that's wise, Lillian. We should probably stay closer to the shore where everyone else is.”

“Oh, please?” Lillian pleaded, her eyes wide and beseeching. “Just a little bit further. I promise to be careful.”

Unable to resist the child's enthusiasm, Eleanor relented. “Very well, but only a short distance, and we must be extra cautious.”

Hand in hand, they glided towards the center of the lake, their skates leaving delicate patterns on the pristine ice. Lillian's excitement was contagious, and Eleanor found herself relaxing, enjoying the graceful movement and the crisp winter air.

“I’m so happy you’re marrying papa. He needs you. You always made me feel better and I’m hoping you can help him, too. He’s sad all the time. I don’t even remember my mother, so how can I miss what I’ve never had? But my father can’t seem to forget her.” She turned and beamed up at her. “But you’re so beautiful, you’ll make Papa forget.”

Beautiful? “You mother was beautiful.”

Lillian shrugged. “I’m not talking about looks, although you look lovely, too. I mean beautiful, as in an angel. Kind, generous, loving. I have never known the embrace or cuddles from a mother. You always cuddle me if I want.”

She smiled back at Lillian. “That’s because you’re so loveable.”

Her smile faded. “I used to think I wasn’t loveable because mother left me.”

Eleanor swung the little girl around to face her. “I bet your mother regrets that decision every day of her life. You are a special little girl who it’s impossible not to love. I love you as if you were my child, and don’t you ever forget that.”

Lillian threw her arms around Eleanor’s waist. “I’m so lucky that you’re going to be my mother.”

“We’re both lucky,” and she pressed a kiss to Lillian’s head. “Let’s keep skating before we get too cold to move.”

As they reached a point further from the shore than Eleanor had intended, she gently tugged on Lillian's hand. “All right, my dear, I think this is far enough. Shall we head back?”

But before Lillian could respond, a sharp crack echoed across the lake. Eleanor's heart leapt into her throat as she felt the ice shift beneath her feet. Time seemed to slow as she watched in horror as a spiderweb of cracks spread out from where Lillian stood.

“Lillian, don't move!” Eleanor cried, her voice tight with fear.

But it was too late. With a sickening crack, the ice gave way beneath Lillian's feet, and she plunged into the frigid water below.

“Lillian!” Eleanor screamed, dropping to her knees at the edge of the hole. She could see the little girl thrashing in the water, her eyes wide with terror.

Without a second thought, Eleanor plunged her arms into the icy water, grabbing for Lillian. The cold hit her like a physical blow, stealing her breath away, but she forced herself to focus. Her fingers closed around Lillian's coat, and she pulled with all her might.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Eleanor gasped, her teeth chattering. “I've got you.”

With a herculean effort, Eleanor hauled Lillian's upper body out of the water and onto the ice. The little girl was sobbing, her body shaking violently from the cold.

“L-Lady Eleanor,” Lillian whimpered, her lips blue and trembling.

“It's alright, darling,” Eleanor soothed, even as she felt the ice creaking ominously beneath them. She knew they weren't safe yet. “Lillian, listen to me carefully. You need to crawl towards Harry. He's coming to help you.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw some men who’d been skating approach, and she prayed Harry stayed back.

Indeed, Eleanor could see Harry inching his way across the ice, his face a mask of determination and fear. “That's it, Lillian,” Eleanor encouraged. “Crawl right over me. The men will pull you to safety.”

As Lillian moved, Eleanor felt the ice shift again. She knew what was about to happen, but she forced herself to remain calm for Lillian's sake. “Keep going, sweetheart. You're doing so well.”

Just as Lillian reached the outstretched hands, the ice beneath Eleanor gave way completely. She had time for one last, desperate gulp of air before the frigid water closed over her head.

The cold was devastating, stealing her breath and clouding her thoughts. Eleanor struggled to orient herself, kicking desperately towards what she hoped was the surface. Her heavy skates and sodden clothes dragged her down, and panic set in as her lungs screamed for air.

To her horror, she realized she had drifted under the ice and even if she could crawl up to the surface for life-saving air; it was blocked. She was trapped.

What would happen to Harry if she died? Bloody Redington would get him. That thought gave her a spark of energy. She tried to swim back to where she fell in, but her vision blurred.

Then everything went black.

Holy Christ. Ambrose's heart was in his throat as he watched Eleanor’s body float under the ice. His spirits lifted when he saw she was still fighting.

He ran ahead, calling for help. Two men came with him. He couldn’t stop to see how Lillian was. Harry and she sat huddled under coats, crying.

They raced and began smashing the ice with a walking cane come sword and their boots. It broke open, and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. The men held his feet. He leaned his body into the icy cold water and knew he only had one go at this. If he couldn’t catch her and she swept passed… He’d lose her forever and that made the blood freeze in his veins even more than the ice cold water.

One, two, three… He grabbed her coat and held on, but she slipped. His hands were so cold he couldn’t grip properly. “Pull me up,” he yelled as he grabbed again. He got her to the surface, and two more men helped him pull her onto the ice.

“She’s not breathing.”

Don’t you die on me! I need you. His heart cracked open and the fortress he’d erected crumbled. How stupid he was to fear love? Love fed your soul. It kept you alive. Love makes life exciting, and he suddenly understood Cassandra would always crave excitement because she was incapable of loving anyone but herself.

He crawled across the ice, his body wracked with shivers, and pressed hard on her chest. Water spewed out of her mouth. Her nose. As she choked and retched, he simply flipped her on her side. “I've got you,” he grunted in her ear. “Don’t leave me.”

“You’re both going to freeze to death,” Lord Harford said. He, too, looked wet and cold.

“Thank you.”

“You can thank me later. “You'll need to move,” he urged those standing around, his voice hoarse.

He draped a blanket someone handed him over Eleanor and dragged her slowly, inch by agonizing inch. The ice was too delicate to carry her, all the weight in one place.

He could hear shouts from the shore, and he searched for Harry and Lillian. They stood on the grass verge with one of Eleanor’s grooms and her lady’s maid.

Finally, mercifully, they reached solid ground. Hands reached out to help pull them to safety, and Ambrose lay on the ground, exhaustion making it difficult to stand. Someone helped him up and wrapped a thick blanket around him. He looked around frantically. “Lillian? Harry?”

“They're safe,” a voice assured him. “They're being taken care of.”

“We need to get Lillian and Eleanor home as fast as possible. Sarah, can you take Lillian and Harry in Eleanor’s carriage? I’ll take Eleanor in my carriage. I’ve got hot stones in mine. My groom will give you some for Lillian.”

“Will she be all right, Your Grace?” He looked down at Harry’s upturned face, streaked with tears. “Yes. I promise you. Will you be a man and look after Lillian until I can see to your mother?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She might need some hugs. Can you do that?”

Harry nodded solemnly. “Good, man. Off you go,” and he squeezed Harry’s shoulder.

He hurried to his carriage. Eleanor looked so pale where they’d laid her on the squab, hot stones around her, but her lips were still blue, but she was breathing.

“Stay with me, Eleanor. Please, stay with me.”

Once safely inside and out of view, he removed both their wet clothes. Soon, he cuddled her against his chest as if he could never let her go, after wrapping them both in blankets and hot stones.

When Eleanor next opened her eyes, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, tucked into a large, comfortable bed. The curtains were drawn, but Eleanor noticed a sliver of pale light suggested it was daytime. Her body ached, and her throat felt raw, but she was blessedly warm.

“Ah, you're awake,” a gentle voice said. Eleanor turned her head to see an older woman sitting beside the bed. “How are you feeling, my lady?”

“Tired,” Eleanor croaked. “Sore. Where am I?”

“You're in His Grace's home. I’m his housekeeper, Mrs. Stevens,” the woman explained. “He insisted on bringing you here where he could oversee your care personally.”

Memory rushed back, and Eleanor sat up abruptly, ignoring the wave of dizziness the movement caused. “Lillian? Harry? Are they all right?”

Mrs. Stevens nuzzled her back against the pillows. “They're both fine, my lady. A bit shaken up, but no worse for wear. It's you we've been worried about. You've been unconscious for two days.”

“Two days?” Eleanor whispered, shocked.

“Yes, you gave us quite a scare. His Grace has hardly left your side.”

As if summoned by her words, the door opened, and Ambrose entered. He looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and his usually immaculate clothing rumpled. But when he saw Eleanor awake, his face lit up with such joy and relief that it took her breath away.

“Eleanor,” he breathed, crossing the room in long strides. He took her hand in both of his, his touch gentle but desperate, as if he needed to reassure himself that she was really there. “Thank God you're awake. How do you feel?”

“I'm fine,” she assured him, her voice still rough. “Just tired. Ambrose, the children”—

—“Are fine,” he finished for her, smiling softly. “Thanks to you. Lillian has been asking for you non-stop. She says you're her hero.”

Eleanor felt tears prick at her eyes. “I was so scared,” she admitted. “When I saw her fall through the ice...”

“You saved her life,” Ambrose said firmly. “And nearly lost your own in the process.” His voice broke slightly on the last words, and Eleanor saw a vulnerability in his eyes that she'd never witnessed before.

Mrs. Stevens quietly excused herself, leaving them alone. For a moment, neither spoke, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

Finally, Ambrose broke the silence. “Eleanor, these past two days have been the worst of my life. Watching you lie there, so still and pale... I've never been so terrified.”

It almost sounded as if he really cared. Eleanor's heart quickened at the raw emotion in his voice. “Ambrose”—

—“No, please, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “When I pulled you from that water, when I thought for a moment that I might lose you... I realized what a fool I've been.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. “I've been so afraid of being hurt again that I've been pushing away the best thing that's ever happened to me. You, Eleanor. You and Harry. The way you love Lillian, the way you've brought light and warmth back into our lives... I've been trying to convince myself that I could be content with a marriage of convenience, but I can't. I don't want to.”

He lay down next to her on the bed and pulled her close. “Love makes life exciting.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Cassandra left me because she said my life was not exciting. My duties and estates take up a lot of my time. She said I lost her because I was boring and she wanted more out of her life.” She squeezed his hand and was about to say something when he added, “So, I cursed at love. I thought that love wasn’t enough. Because I believed she loved me.”

But seeing you risk your life to save Lillian, I realized Cassandra didn’t love anyone but herself, and that love for someone, for family, is what makes life exciting. Without it, I think people will always go looking for something else to fill the empty void.

It wasn’t love that caused my hurt. It was a lack of love.”

Eleanor felt tears sliding down her cheeks, but she made no move to wipe them away. “What are you saying, Ambrose?”

He reached out, cupping her face in his hand, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “I'm saying that I love you, Eleanor. I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time, I think, but I was too scared to admit it. But these past few days have shown me that life is too precious, too fragile to waste on fear. I want a proper marriage with you. I want to love you, to cherish you, to build a life and a family together. I want all the excitement that loving you will bring into our lives.”

Eleanor's heart soared at his words, even as a small part of her remained cautious. “I think our life could be very exciting because I’m falling in love with you, too. I think I have loved you since that day six years ago when you asked me to look after Lillian.”

Ambrose shook his head ruefully. “I was a coward, trying to protect myself. But I was wrong. You're not Cassandra, Eleanor. You're so much more. You're strong, and kind, and brave. You risked your life for my daughter without a second thought. How could I not fall in love with you?”

Unable to contain herself any longer, Eleanor reached for him, pulling him close. Their lips met in a kiss that was tender and passionate, filled with all the love and longing they'd both been holding back.

When they finally parted, both breathless, Ambrose rested his forehead against hers. “Marry me, Eleanor,” he whispered. “Not for convenience, not for safety, but because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy.”

Eleanor smiled through her tears. “Yes,” she said simply. “Yes, I'll marry you. I love you too, Ambrose. So much.”

He gathered her in his arms, holding her close as if he never wanted to let go. And as Eleanor nestled against him, she felt a sense of peace and rightness settle over her. This was where she belonged. This was home.

A soft knock at the door interrupted their moment. They looked up to see Harry and Lillian peeking in, their faces a mixture of hope and worry.

“Mother?” Harry called softly. “Are you really awake?”

Eleanor smiled, holding out her arms. “Come here, both of you.”

The children didn't need to be told twice. They rushed to the bed, clambering up to join Eleanor and Ambrose. Lillian threw her arms around Eleanor's neck, burying her face in her shoulder.

“I'm so sorry,” the little girl sobbed. “It's all my fault you got hurt.”

Eleanor stroked her hair soothingly. “Shh, darling. It wasn't your fault at all. I'm just so glad we’re both safe.”

Harry, meanwhile, was studying Ambrose with a thoughtful expression. “Are you going to be my new father now?” he asked bluntly.

Ambrose chuckled, ruffling the boy's hair. “If that's all right with you, yes. I'd very much like to be.”

Harry considered this for a moment, then nodded solemnly. “Good. Mother needs someone to look after her sometimes, too.”

Eleanor felt her heart swell with love for her son. “Is that so?” she teased gently.

“It is,” Harry insisted. “And His Grace saved you, so I think he'll do a good job of it.”

Lillian piped up, her tears forgotten in the excitement. “Does this mean we're going to be a proper family? All of us together?”

Ambrose smiled, gathering all of them into his arms. “Yes, poppet. That's exactly what it means.”

Lilian sat up and clapped her hands excitedly. “Could we have a Christmas day wedding?”

Ambrose smiled at her over the children’s heads. “I could get a special license? Did you want a big wedding?”

She shook her head. “I think I’d like just my immediate family.”

Ambrose pressed a kiss to Lillian’s head. “Then we shall get married on Christmas Day.”