Attempting once more to get a painful breath through his lungs, Harris caught one of Julia’s hands in his. Her skin proved pale against his, her fingers lifeless.
And he, who’d believed his heart couldn’t ache anymore, convulsed under the agony of it. “I’m a damned fool,” he said into the quiet, needing to hear something, some sound of life, even if it was just his own voice. Because if he was engaged in discourse with her, then she was still with him and not… what the doctor had told him and the duchess to expect as an outcome. “But then, you knew that, didn’t you, love?” he murmured, his gaze on her beloved face.
There was no hint of movement or indication that she’d heard. She was so still, her auburn lashes lying upon her pale cheeks.
“I’m so s-sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m a damned fool. Stubborn and arrogant, and you deserve better than me.” That didn’t stop him from wanting that future with her still. With a long, shaky sigh, Harris leaned forward and rested his head on the mattress, facing her. “I’ve thought about… you… us… these past days,” he murmured into the quiet. “I’ve thought about when it was that I knew I was so very much in love with you. And it was the pelicans.” He closed his eyes briefly, recalling that bright spring day when she’d raced off. Harris opened his eyes and smiled. “You just jumped down from the carriage before it had even stopped, and I’d no idea where you were going, and you were just so excited, and I’d never known a person could feel unfettered joy about anything, and I was… captivated.”
The floorboards groaned, and he quickly sat up.
The duchess’ niece lingered at the entrance of the room, clad in her nightshift and wrapper. “Forgive me,” she said softly, and perhaps on another day and at another time, he’d have felt embarrassed by what the young lady had heard, by having voiced aloud feelings so intimate and personal. Not anymore. “I could not sleep. I… wanted to see Julia.”
Releasing Julia’s hand, Harris remembered to take to his feet. “Of course,” he said quickly as she joined him at the other side of the bed.
He should leave. He should allow the young woman her time alone with Julia, as she’d not had a single moment of it since her… their arrival. But he was a selfish bastard in so many ways, and he couldn’t bring himself to quit his spot. Dread gripped him at the possibility that when he did, she’d leave him. As long as he was here, she was here, and they were together. He slid into the chair he’d occupied these past days as Adairia found the seat at the opposite end of the bed that she’d made hers at various points throughout the days.
“She is so still,” Adairia said. “So very weak. I have never seen her so.” A wistful smile danced on the young woman’s lips. “She was always so very strong. So much stronger than me. She never thought anything of going toe-to-toe with grown men or more powerful women. Or anyone who thought to try to hurt me.”
With every word spoken, Adairia revealed a greater glimpse into the woman he knew Julia to be. And he took in the tales, silently urging the young lady to continue in her telling.
“One time, a gentleman attempted to take me away, but Julia felled him. She was just ten.” Pride lit Adairia’s eyes. “She took down a grown man and saved me, she did.” Drawing her legs up, the young woman tucked her knees in and rested her chin atop them. She had a younger look to her that defied the experiences she spoke of. “Never remember her crying. She was always so busy looking after me and taking care of me.”
Oh, God. He wasn’t going to survive this. Knowing how she’d struggled. How she’d lived. How she’d suffered.
Tears glistened in Adairia’s eyes. “No one ever looked after her, though,” she whispered, and Harris was certain if he touched a hand to his chest, he’d find blood where it had broken open and his heart had bled on through. “I never thought about that until the day I came in here to see her sleeping. I never thought about the fact that I’d never worried after her the way she did me. Even when I’d been… taken to speak with Mr. Graham, and I was there, I didn’t properly think about her as I should. Until now, I’d not appreciated how no one, not even her mum, properly cared for her.”
A fresh wave of agony cleaved away at his chest. “Julia wouldn’t want you to think like that,” he said hoarsely, knowing that implicitly.
The young woman seated across from Julia’s still form offered a sad smile. “Yes, but isn’t that my very point? She never has put herself first. Ever.”
He took in a shuddery breath.
She hadn’t.
But I want to be that person for Julia. He wanted to be the man who would keep her safe and make her laugh. He wanted to be the person she could cry with, and then he wanted to wipe her tears and devote himself to keeping her from any and all hurt that he could.
Even as he’d no right to her. Even as he’d hurt her and made her feel as though she could not turn to him with her fears, he wanted to spend his life making up for those mistakes. Harris slid his gaze across the room to the fire raging in the hearth. He studied those crimson flames as they danced and twisted about, casting ominous shadows that portended death, shadows he fought desperately to keep at bay.
Then Adairia began to sing.
