No Fury

Now: Twenty Nine

The next morning, I push the porridge around my bowl, the chaos in my head propelling me into an odd, silent fugue.

The need to tell Harry claws at my chest and my throat, making it feel as though I can't draw enough breath. I don't know how I can see him if he doesn't send for me. And he will likely never send for me again, as his future wife and much of her extended family is in the castle until the wedding. The festival begins this afternoon, and will last for the ten days leading up to the marriage ceremony.

I stand, stumbling to the chamber pot to be sick again.

Da and Mother are speaking to Liam's family. Soon, they will return home. With a date, with a plan.

I wash my face, scrub my mouth and pull my bonnet on.

"I'm off for a walk."

Mary stands, reaching for her jumper. "I'll come with you."

"No, Mary."

Her face falls.

"Please," I add, to take the bite from my words. "I need to be alone."

~~

The grass tickles my ankles, my calves, and closest to the trail it has grown as tall as my hips. I crash through, free to let out the gasping, sharp sobs.

This is where we would meet, where we would talk for those stolen hours. This is where he became mine, and he learned that I'd always been his.

It now feels as though I am sitting upon a graveyard.

A flash of blue appears just before the old oak tree and I make to duck and hide before Harry steps out, brow relaxing in relief when he sees it is only me.

"Cath!"

I cry out, running to him, throwing myself into his arms.

His mouth is everywhere: my hair, my neck, pulling the neck of my dress down to kiss my chest above my heart.

"I heard you were ill," he gasps, frantic. "Tell me you're all right. Please Cath, after the banquet! The Duke! And that day . . . I know you saw her arrive!" He pulls back, eyes searching mine. "Please, speak to me. It would kill me to see you with another."

This admission breaks me anew-for he doesn't yet know that he will see me with another man, and soon.

I grow breathless with grief, and still, he apologizes.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispers, his tears wet on my neck when he presses his face there. "I don't want her. I don't want anyone else. Please, Cath, speak to me."

"Harry," I say, cupping his face so he will meet my eyes. "Look at me."

He blinks up, eyes first smiling through tears and then growing tighter as he studies my face. "What is it?"

"I'm to wed Liam. Soon."

"What?" His eyes harden completely, jaw set in a rage I've never be able to picture on his features. He scoffs, as if the idea is preposterous. "I forbid it."

I feel my chin wobble, knowing the worst heartbreak hasn't even come yet.

"I've got no choice, Harry."

He stares at me, eyes flaming. "You can refuse."

"I'm with child."

He freezes, chest heaving. "He dared-"

"Your child."

A lifetime of emotions passes through his eyes in a matter of seconds.

But above it all: joy.