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He gaped at her. “What the devil are you sorry for?”
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you as I did. It was a perfectly logical line of thinking, after all.”
“You had every right to be surprised. Hell,” he quipped, hoping his light tone might ease her discomfort, “I surprised myself.”
The smile she gave him was sickly at best. His gaze drifted down to her hand. As he’d expected, she was once more working anxiously at the thin gold band on her finger. “You loved your husband greatly,” he murmured.
She flinched and clenched her fingers into fists. “Yes, I did,” she managed.
“Won’t you tell me of him?”
She blinked owlishly at him. “You wish me to tell you of Aaron?”
“If you’d like.”
She frowned, her expression suddenly guarded. “What would you know?”
A strange reaction, that. From the tense line of her shoulders she appeared ready to go to battle.
“Erm, whatever you wish to speak of. How did you meet?”
“Oh.” Her face relaxed some at that, her gaze going hazy, as if she were suddenly transported elsewhere. “I met him when I was quite young. He was the son of the town blacksmith, near my father’s property, Epping Manor. We grew up together, and were close friends.” A small smile flitted about her mouth. “And then, one day, we were more than friends. Truthfully, it happened so gradually, I was completely in love with him before I even knew I had begun.”
He thought, for a moment, he could see clear to her soul. “It must have been very romantic.”
“It was.” She gave a small sigh. Then, suddenly, her smile slipped, pain dulling her eyes. “My father wasn’t happy with the union, of course. He was quite adamant that I not marry a person of such low birth. And so we eloped, to Gretna Green. And then went on to live in London for a short time.”
“And he enlisted.”
She swallowed hard, looking toward the mural. But her expression was so haunted he didn’t think she saw the mural at all. “My grandmother tried to insist on buying him a commission. I thought for a moment he might take her up on her offer. But I saw, though he considered it, that he wasn’t happy. When I pressed him, he admitted he would not be comfortable having his way paid, that he wanted to go up in ranks by his own merit. I had not realized until just that moment that he was just as prideful as I—” Her voice cracked, the rawness of it tearing at his heart. “I imagine he would not have been…welcome…buying his way into a higher rank, considering his origins. He only considered my grandmother’s suggestion to please me.”
Daniel could imagine what young Aaron Kitteridge would have gone through had he taken Lady Tesh up on her offer. There was a strict hierarchy in the military. No doubt both nobles and commoners would have taken exception to his position. They would have made the man’s life miserable.
Mrs. Kitteridge closed her eyes for a moment, breathing slow and deep. Finally she opened her eyes, and though the ghost of grief was present, it was under control. “He would have gone through all that and more for me. But I supported his choice so he might be happy. And he was, so very happy. His eyes were so bright when he left, so full of excitement—”
Again, she broke off. This time, however, she remained silent, her gaze focused on her wedding ring, shining against the violet of her half-mourning gown.
“I’m sorry.”
The words were so inconsequential. And yet, it was all he could think to say.
She gave a small, strained laugh. “It’s the same story told by so many war widows. I’m hardly anything special.”
“Yes, you are.”
The words surprised him. And her, if the shock in her eyes when she looked up at him was any indication. Thank goodness she was faster to recover than he was.
“And what of you? Did you leave behind any sweethearts?”
She would touch on the one subject he had no wish to discuss. But there was still something infinitely brittle in her gaze. She had confided in him, though it had taken much out of her. It was only right that he reveal something of his past to her. It was common knowledge, after all, that he’d been engaged before buying his commission; he could confine his own story to the bare facts and nothing more.
He dragged in a deep breath. “I did. Lady Erica Harcourt, daughter of the Earl of Gadby. She accepted my proposal, but wished to wait until my return from the Continent to marry.”
He fell silent. She watched him with solemn eyes, waiting patiently. Finally he let out a huff of a laugh. “I think, seeing as why I’ve hired you, you can guess what happened upon my return.”
“She broke it off with you because of your injuries?”
He shrugged. “It was to be expected, I suppose. She was gently born. And though you may not believe it”—he attempted a smile, though feared it must resemble more of a grimace—“my injuries were even more unpleasant back then.”
