The Bluestocking’s Absolutely Brilliant Betrothal (The Notorious Briarwoods #6)

Chapter 19

A chilles had experienced harrowing events, but he had never felt so absolutely broken in his entire life. He’d never thought he could feel like this. He was grateful that he had a family. He was grateful that he had wealth. He was grateful for all of the circumstances of his life, which made him free of most suffering.

But this kind of suffering seemed to make all of that completely irrelevant. It felt as if he would never breathe again.

He stared out the window, determined not to get drunk.

“I do not understand what is so wrong with you English people,” his cousin drawled. “You have no emotions,” Jean-Luc announced.

He turned slowly and narrowed his eyes. “You are trying to make me lose my control.”

Jean-Luc nodded, his dark hair glinting in the light. “Am I succeeding?”

“No,” he growled, digging his fingers into his biceps as he crossed his arms across his chest.

Jen-Luc tsked. “Alas, if you would but lose control of your emotions, the next thing we know, we would be in the coach on the way to her house. You would storm into her foyer. You would go up the stairs, seize her, throw her over your shoulder, and take her out and back down to the coach. And then you would be on a fast ride to Scotland. You would be married tout de suite.” Jean-Luc gestured with his fingers to his lips as if making an excellent kiss. “It would be perfection. I would pay good money to watch it. I would help you do it for free.”

“Jean-Luc,” Achilles ground out, “we don’t kidnap women and force them to marry us in this country. That was outlawed some decades ago.”

“It is a shame,” Jean-Luc said, “that the actions of a few hideous men have caused such passion to be regulated as a crime. Now, of course, if the lady does not want to be stolen away, she should not be,” Jean-Luc amended.

He rolled his eyes. “Generally, if one has to steal a lady, surely she does not wish it.”

“I don’t know.” Jean-Luc sighed. “Women are forced into a corner, are they not? They’re not really allowed to say what they want. That is because of us men. We men are very difficult. We have made the world a bad place for them. And so, sometimes, when you know that a lady wants something, you have to just give it to her, you know.”

“That sounds quite—”

“Non, non, non!” Jean-Luc raised his hands and his brows lifted too. “I don’t mean anything nefarious. I simply mean that sometimes ladies… They are controlled by our society, and they cannot see that they can choose happiness. You told her, non, that you would love her and marry her without children, and yet she still felt the need to rescue you.”

He swallowed. He’d never thought of it like that. “She rescued me?”

A look of relief passed Jean-Luc’s face. “Yes, oui, exactement.”

Achilles swallowed the bitter taste that came up his throat. Is that what had happened? It had felt like she had been abandoning him and throwing him away, throwing their love away. But she had indeed been rescuing him. She had been sacrificing herself—her happiness for his future happiness—as if somehow his future happiness was more important than hers.

It was utterly absurd.

“I am right, am I not?” Jean-Luc asked, crossing his arms over his linen-clad chest, mirroring Achilles. As he leaned back against the fireplace mantel, he hooked one ankle over the other and gave a look of pure triumph.

“It is infuriating, but, yes, it seems so.”

Jean-Luc grinned. “So are we going to collect her?”

He considered this. He’d never been the sort of man to kidnap a woman before, and it was illegal, but if he showed up and made his case for Scotland, perhaps…

“Non, non,” Jean-Luc called. “I can see you are overthinking it. We must go now. Do not allow too many thoughts to go through your brain. You must simply act through love, and if she absolutely will not go with you? Fine, we will not push. But I wager she would come with you.”

Did he want to try? By God! Hadn’t he begged her enough? Hadn’t he… No. He supposed he hadn’t. Not truly. Not for true bloody love. He’d tried to persuade her, convince her, but he hadn’t really fought for her.

And so he strode forward.

“Bravo,” Jean-Luc declared. “This is the stuff. Too many people are dying for you to throw your life away. You must act with passion. Act in the moment.”

And so he did as his cousin suggested. He started for the door. He was going to call for his horse. Jean-Luc followed him, one step behind, and they were about to head out through the massive front doors of Heron House, but before they could, the door was thrown open and the lady in question stood there, her hair wild, her cloak flying, and a large case behind her.

“What are you doing?” Achilles blurted, wondering if he’d lost his wits and was now envisioning things.

She straightened her shoulders, which made her appear quite confident, but there was an air of trepidation to her as she ventured, “I’ve come to see if you would like to come to Naples with me.”

“Naples?” he echoed.

She thrust a large bundle of papers at him. “Suitable tickets and bank letters. I’ve arranged everything. I need a companion to go to Naples.”

A muscle tightened in his cheek. “Well, then ask your lady’s maid.”

“Oh!” Her cheeks flushed. “She’s waiting in the coach. She thinks I’m being absolutely mad to keep coming to Heron House without being invited. At least that’s what she told me on the first day, and then she told me again today. But I don’t think I need an invitation. I thought I would come and steal you away.”

His lips began to twitch. “You’ve come here to steal me away?”

Jean-Luc clapped his hands together. “Fate!”

Her brow furrowed at that and she cleared her throat and continued. “You’re rather large, so if you could just do as I ask, it would be extremely helpful. I suppose I could ask Jean-Luc to assist because he seems like he might want to. I could also ask your brother, Lord Zephyr, if he’s somewhere about. I think most of your family would agree to hoisting you into my coach and sending us off to Naples together, if they can but forgive me for the pain that I have caused them.”

He let out a slow sigh. “They think that you have caused yourself a great deal of pain. Everyone is all but in mourning here because of it.”

“Oh dear.” She let out quite a distressed sigh. “I am sorry. Truly sorry.”

“No,” he rushed, longing to take her in his arms. “I am sorry that you thought you had to put my happiness before your own.”

She blinked. “That is what I did, isn’t it? But it was also because I was terrified, and I can’t live like that.”

“Bravo,” Jean-Luc announced, clapping louder this time. “Someone has talked sense into you.”

She beamed. “A Frenchwoman, actually.”

Jean-Luc nodded. “But of course, a fellow countryman.”

“And my mother too,” she added.

Jean-Luc twirled his wrist. “Mothers always say the best things. Well, not all mothers, but his mother and apparently your mother. They shall be great friends.”

Her smile increased, but then she hesitated as if her life hung in the balance. “It is true,” she agreed. “May I have a moment with Achilles alone?”

Jean-Luc looked back and forth. “Ah, but it is such an excellent show to watch.”

He gave his cousin a death stare, and the Frenchman threw up his hands.

“Fine, fine. I shall go and listen from behind the door like a gentleman.”

And with that, he headed off.

“Do you think he’s really going to listen in?” she asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Achilles said.

She laughed. “I suppose I don’t mind so much.”

Then, after closing her eyes for a brief moment, she walked forward with a bundle of papers between them and again thrust them in his direction. “Will you come with me?”

“As your companion?” he asked. “No, I won’t. We can be business partners from afar. I can still do everything that needs to be done in Naples without me going there.”

She flinched and her shoulders sank, but then a slow smile tilted her lips. “You misunderstand me. I couldn’t go alone with you to Naples,” she announced “the scandal would be—”

“Then what do you want me to go as?” he cut in, suddenly daring to wonder what she meant.

“My husband,” she replied, her voice rich and deep and the freest it had ever been. “As the man I love. The man who is going to walk through this world with me and take each day as it comes. I have no idea what the future holds,” she continued, “but my mother told me that I was about to climb into my grave early. And given the way life is being taken from others, it would be a crime if I threw my own away. So, if you wish to marry me, Achilles, you best be ready and you best not regret it and you best not look back. Because we are going to live. We are going to live every moment of every day as if we might not have another one. We will throw nothing away. We will take nothing for granted, and we will taste every fruit, we will drink every drink, we will dance every dance, and we will save all the people we can.” She slowed and drew in a long breath as she closed the distance between them, causing her skirts to dance against his boots. “I will love you with every bit of my heart and soul. No matter what is to come.”

“No matter what is to come,” he echoed. “And what if the very best is to come?” he asked softly, pulling her into his arms. She leaned into him and tilted her head back, the papers crumpling between them.

“It is impossible to know, but I’ll tell you this. Because we are going to be together, because we are choosing life, it will be the best,” she whispered.

Joy burst inside him. It almost didn’t feel real! He’d been in such despair. And now look!

“My friend, Anais,” she whispered. “She is safe.”

“You aren’t marrying me because I saved your friend, are you?” he blurted.

She batted at his arm. “Don’t be ridiculous. Though I am so very grateful.”

He beamed, holding her close. “I heard that she arrived at your house. I had no idea that saving her would also save us.”

“She told me that even in the darkest hours, it was the love of her son that saved her,” she replied, her face serious. “And now I understand. I understand that love does not cause the suffering. Suffering is just going to occur. Suffering is a part of existence. But love? Love,” she replied softly, “is what makes the suffering bearable.”

He tilted her head back then and gazed down into her eyes. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she said. “So, let us set the world afire with all we mean to do.”

“With all you want to do,” he countered.

She smiled up at him. “I have the flint. Do you have the tinder?”

He nodded. “So, let us make the spark.”

With that, they kissed. Soft and slow and long, and he knew then that something had woken her up. Something had brought them together, and he never should have doubted.

The Briarwoods always found love. Sometimes the journey was just a bit more challenging than others. But the real joy was in the journey of it all.