Tender Wings of Desire Page 6

  Caoimhe’s cheeks reddened as she remembered this man, and Madeline leaned closer to listen to her tale of inevitable woe.

  Caoimhe had been 17 when she came over to England, thinking it would be a land of opportunity. In her small town in Ireland, Caoimhe was destined to become a milkmaid or perhaps a farmer’s wife, but she would not have seen anything of the world.

  “So I left,” she explained. “And I ended up in London working in a shop. And that was where I met Freddie.”

  Freddie had been in the British Merchant Navy, and the moment he laid eyes on Caoimhe, who had been walking to the market one day, he jumped off of a boat that was preparing to shove off, ran to her side, and asked for her name.

  From there it seemed like a dream. Freddie had big plans: he was going to earn a good wage from the merchant navy and then he would come back to marry her.

  “I am not going to pretend that I am not a simple woman,” Caoimhe said to Madeline, “and that you do not come from somewhere else, somewhere you do not want to talk about, but the rules are different and also the same. We may not have gone a courting too much, we may not have vast declarations, but a plan such as that was almost as formal…”

  Due to his position, Freddie was often gone for long stretches at a time, and Caoimhe was faithful to him every time he left.

  “Freddie loved making promises,” she said. “He loved to be in love and to love in return, so I honestly should not have been surprised to hear that he was in love with a girl in every single port he docked. By the time I found out, well, it was too late…”

  Her cheeks turned red and she looked away from Madeline out of fear that her emotions would become too obvious. Madeline did not need to guess what kind of shame had been brought upon her. Madeline knew it would be rude to ask.

  “I am not warning you about this because I think that Harland is a bad man. I think that men like him, those with the sea in their blood, they are different from other men. I just do not want you to feel the same heartache that I did.”

  There was a moment then when it seemed as though Caoimhe was waiting for Madeline to finally, truly open up about her past, and yet Madeline stayed silent. It was not that she wanted to withhold this information from one of her only friends, especially now that Harland knew everything, but as she opened her mouth to speak, she simply could not bring herself to tell the tale. Admitting it to Harland had been like letting it go, and she did not want to bring it back up again.

  So she said the only thing she could say:

  “I’ll be careful.”

  It wasn’t as though Caoimhe was disappointed; far from it, she seemed to take comfort in Madeline’s conviction even though they both knew that words were only words and the most important thing she could do was avoid being ruined by the attentions of a man. Neither of them knew for sure, but for now Madeline was more than willing to take the chance.

  “Just do not tell Liam,” Caoimhe said, forcing lightheartedness back into her voice. “I believe he’s taken a shine to you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  To call their affair passionate was an understatement. Sometimes it seemed as though the two of them had been made to love each other, and they tried to do so at every given opportunity. Their eyes would meet the instant he walked into the tavern, as if they could feel each other. In that instant, a spark would light and quickly grow into a raging inferno deep within them. They were so consumed that it took every ounce of their restraint not to give into the fire right then and there. The flames would continue to rage throughout the night until the fire was too much, and at last they could let it engulf them.

  Over the next month, Madeline felt as if she were walking on air. She felt magical in a way, carrying a delightful secret. Whenever he walked into the tavern, she could feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck, making her feel so alive.

  Harland was fun; he was exciting. He loved to walk with her for hours and talk about nothing in particular. He liked to pull her out into the rain, when the wind whipped the waves up into a frenzy. Madeline loved to watch the sea like this, the waves crashing against the pier in giant sprays of white and gray. Caoimhe and Carson often worried that she would get hurt out there one day, but when she was with Harland, she felt completely safe.

  After a month and a half of working at The Admiral’s Arms, she was finally beginning to feel as though she belonged. She joked with the regulars, she knew where everything was, and she was close with Caoimhe, of course, but also with Carson. They were becoming a sort of family for each other, although she was constantly wondering if Carson would ever get around to telling Caoimhe what he felt. It was sweet to watch, in any case, although she wasn’t sure if Caoimhe knew or even if she felt the same way.

  The only problem was Liam, the gangly and shy cook who barely spoke to her on good days and was now dodging her completely. It was confusing; she had never been anything less than completely kind to him, and her desire to become good friends with anyone had made her hover around him like a bumblebee around a flower. For the first few weeks he seemed to accept her with a growing sort of grace, almost smiling whenever she would ask him questions.

  However, after Harland came in one day and gave her a kiss right in front of him, Liam had closed himself off to her.

  For some reason, it drove Madeline mad. She spent more time than she should have wheedling him to get back into his good graces.

  “Liam is a quiet boy,” Carson had said when Madeline went to him for advice. “He did not have a life that one would call happy, and we’ve been trying to give him the space to accept the idea that his life still has the chance for happiness.”

  “Do you know what happened to him?” Madeline asked. Carson shook his head.

  “These parts, it could be any number of things. Maybe his mother was one of those… girls, the ones on the docks. Either way, he was left to fend for himself for a long time.

  It is not…”

  Something you would understand, was the end of that sentence, Madeline knew. Although she had been working for The Admiral’s Arms long enough to become a bit of a fixture there, she still carried the taint of aristocracy, no matter how much she tried to

  deny it.

  “I wonder if they’ll ever see me as one of them,” she complained to Harland one night as they lie together on her bed, their hearts still racing from the love they had made. “I am not some lady who wants to be dressed in fine satins and furs all the time. I am sure they can see that, right?”

  “They will,” Harland said. “It just takes time.”

  She did eventually hear a little bit about Harland’s life, but in broad brushstrokes. His father had been dead for two years, and after that he joined up with the nearest boat that would take him. His mother had always been sickly. He had a younger brother. Madeline could picture the cozy little cottage they must have lived in. She liked to picture little Harland, his light hair sticking out every which way, his glasses too large for his face, as he played with a boat and dreamed of something bigger.

  The next morning Madeline was surprised to see Liam sitting at the bar when she walked in to begin preparations for that night. His gangly frame seated so high on the stool made her think of a marionette puppet with its strings cut, but the look on his face was anything but jolly.

  “Good afternoon, Liam! You are here quite early.”

  Liam’s glum face looked up at her, his eyes searching her face for something before he gave a great sigh.

  “I got a letter, but I’ve been hiding it from you,” he said sadly. Madeline’s heart dropped in her chest, but she forced her expression to remain neutral, even cheerful, lest he notice her momentary panic.

  “Why? Whoever could it be from?”

  Liam held up the letter and Madeline could see a stamped wax seal from where she stood. She backed away instinctively. How had she been found? It had been nearly two months since she had left the manor. How could they have found her so easily, even now? This panic lasted for
only a moment or two before she realized that the wax used to make the seal was not her father’s usual green. Instead this was a bright red with an “S” stamped into it. She did not recognize the symbol as belonging to any lords she could think of, and it was too simple to be a lord’s seal. Could this be Winston sending her a letter of warning in a disguise?

  “I am sorry,” Liam whispered. “I know I am not allowed to take someone’s mail.”

  “It is completely alright, Liam,” Madeline replied, keeping her tone as calm and soothing as she could manage. “I would just like to see what you have there. I promise I will not tell a soul.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Liam handed the letter over to Madeline, and without thinking she immediately opened it. Unfolding it, she saw a handwriting she did not recognize, found that it was not addressed to her, and against her better judgment, she began to read.

  Harland,

  I do hope that this finds you well. After all these years I never believed that I would actually be able to find you. How long has it been? I know that you still write to Mother, and I know that she greatly appreciates it. Now I write to you with a request that I know she is too proud to make, and perhaps you are too proud to accept.

  I need you to come home, Harland. I know that many will think that I am a fool for writing this. How often does a man build an empire with his bare hands only to abandon it? How often is a man who has been left to tend to your estate so willing to give up the fortune and the prestige that I have managed to attain running the empire in your stead? And yet here I am asking you to return, and I don’t know if you have a choice in the matter. As much as I would like to play the leader, this was always the position you earned, and I think it’s time for you to put aside your childish sailing and come back to take up the mantle of Colonel Sanders.

  Mother would never tell you this, not in her letters anyway, but she’s incredibly sick. I don’t know how much longer she has, and I very dearly hope that you read my words and take them seriously. She wants to see you one last time, and I believe it would be best if she saw you come home to take back what you spent so long building. The hills of Kentucky miss you, as do all of us.

  I hope this finds you well and in good faith.

  Your brother,

  David

  Madeline could feel Liam’s eyes on her face as she read the letter. Harland.Her Harland was the owner of an empire? A member of the American gentry? The very type of person that Madeline had wanted to run away from? Her Harland?

  The letter slipped through her fingers, and she stepped away from it, as if trying to distance herself from the truth. Good lord, what had she done? She put on her mask of cheerfulness and looked up at Liam again.

  “Thank you. Do not worry one bit, you will not be in any kind of trouble, I promise. But I must go and take a walk for a moment. Would you mind getting the tavern ready to

  open today?”

  Liam had not even finished nodding by the time Madeline escaped from the horror of what she had just learned.

  For the past month, Persephone had been held in the stables on the edge of town, where Madeline paid for her care and took her for long rides on the mornings she did not have anywhere to be. The mare looked happy to see her, which made Madeline glad, and she saddled her up and mounted her, even if she wasn’t particularly dressed for it.

  “Hello, Persephone. I know you know where we are going,” Madeline whispered to the horse, easing her down the very road they had traveled to arrive at Mistle-Thrush-by-the-Sea. Persephone loved to run, and Madeline loved the feeling of the wind in her hair, and she truly didn’t know where she was going until she realized she was there.

  The cliffs.

  Dismounting and leaving Persephone to graze, Madeline walked up to the very same cliffs she had looked out over before arriving to town, before she felt as though her entire life had changed. She closed her eyes and breathed in the sea air.

  Harland was the very thing she had been running from, wasn’t he? She had told him everything. Why hadn’t he told her? He had kept such a huge secret from her, and what’s more, he had remained in touch with his family, enough that they could summon him home. Is that what he was going to do? Had he been planning that all along? Was she just a lark to him?

  Or worse, was he grooming her to be a wife? Did he expect to bring her back to whatever manor he came from to live the life of the happily married wife and give up everything she had tried to build for herself?

  She stood at the edge of the cliff and wondered about this. Distantly she heard someone call her name, and she knew it was him. Maybe he had discovered that she had read the letter; it was certainly possible. She needed to figure out what to do. She needed to make

  a choice.

  “Madeline!” Harland’s voice had an edge of nervousness to it, implying that he knew that she had discovered his secret.

  Taking a deep breath, Madeline turned to face her lover—her lover who had lied.

  The wind had whipped Harland’s fair hair around his face, blowing against his beautifully sculpted cheekbones and glasses. Seeing him standing there, she momentarily lost her will to anger as her stomach dropped, dizzy with the love that she felt for him.

  “Madeline,” he said again to her softly.

  “Colonel,” she replied, her voice touched with ice as the betrayal hit her all over again. The look on his face said it all, and his expectant gaze dropped into one close to panic before he righted himself.

  “I was going to tell you.”

  “When?” Madeline placed her hands on her hips, her heart racing with fear as she confronted him. When was the last time she had faced anything full-on? She couldn’t remember, but it was exhilarating. “After it was too late?’

  “Isn’t it already?” His voice was tender as he moved closer beside her, reaching up to touch her shoulder gently. She closed her eyes for a bit, savoring the nearness of him, before taking a step back in an effort to put distance between them. “I love you, Madeline, and I know that you love me too. Isn’t that all that matters?”

  Yes, her mind thought wildly, but she shook her head against her own errant and impassioned thoughts and focused on the reality of the situation. Reading the lines of her face, Harland’s face began to take on the tragic look of a heartbroken man. It hurt Madeline to see it.

  “Yes, I’m a Colonel. Yes, I’m fabulously rich. I am a magnate of the restaurant industry, my dear, the king of an empire that I built with my bare hands. I took a sabbatical from my duties in order to see the world, see what else could possibly be out there, and on the course of my journey I found what I was looking for.”

  Her heart fluttered wildly in the space of his pauses. In spite of everything, she found herself hanging on his every word.

  “I found you, Madeline. I wanted to tell you, but when you told me why you ran away, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. How could I, knowing that it might drive you away?”

  “Lying wouldn’t fix that!” she protested. “Lying only makes things worse!”

  “Now you know,” he replied solemnly. “You know everything, and all I can do is hope that you still love me.”

  Of course she still loved him. How could she not? That did not necessarily mean that they were meant to be together. Could she truly be another high-society wife? Could she give up Caoimhe, Liam, Carson, and her new life to sit in a house and wear pretty clothes and say pretty things for the rest of her life? The thought of it daunted her.

  “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing,” Harland said as though he had been reading her mind. “Loving me won’t force you into a life you don’t want to live.”

  “You’d give everything up for me?” she asked incredulously. Harland’s face lit up.

  “Of course!” he threw out his hands as though he were throwing everything away, taking in the sunset as it began to set over the ocean. The salty sea spray whipped at their hair, and Madeline hugged herself, watching the spectacle. “I would burn everythin
g to the ground if it meant that you would still love me as much as you did when you thought I was a

  simple sailor.”

  “I never thought you were simple,” she replied with a touch of mischief. “But I couldn’t ask that of you. Not after you built everything.”

  “You’re not asking that of me. I’m offering it willingly.”

  And with that he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against the sunset. It felt electric when their lips met, and for a moment everything left Madeline’s mind, leaving only the clear and simple beauty of how much she loved him.

  Then she pushed him away.

  “I can’t,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t do it.”

  She turned away before her second thoughts could stop her own footfalls, covering her mouth with her hands as if she could press the kiss into her lips forever. Harland stood there, dumbfounded, as she began to walk down the path. Persephone stood not too far away, grazing peacefully, completely unaware that the world was ending. Madeline was several steps away from her, her knees trembling with the fragile gravity of her decision.

  If he calls my name, she thought, I’ll turn around and be his forever.

  The waves crashed in the distance, tugging at Madeline’s heartstrings like the tide. Tears streamed down her face. Could she simply leave? Would he let her go?

  A particularly large wave crashed against the rocks below, but softly, oh so very softly, Madeline heard him utter a name. Picturing the scenario in her mind, she thought she would whirl around like a frenzied dancer, throwing herself into the safety of his arms once more. Instead she simply turned, her face a mask of tears and serenity, and looked upon his face. Moments stretched between them like years, like decades, until with a final cry she began to run into his waiting arms.

  EPILOGUE:

  THREE MONTHS LATER