"Wife!"

Aliya jerked from her stupor at the cry from outside the bedchamber. She grabbed her robe and shrugged into it.

"Wife!" The booming voice of her husband was now echoing along the corridors of Winfield and she ran to the door to poke her head out.

"Hush! What are you doing waking up the entire manor!" she hissed at him.

He looked her up and down. "Are you naked inside that robe?"

Aliya turned away and went to the washstand. The door closed behind him and he discarded his clothing to change into fresh ones. He must have gone running by the beach while she was asleep.

"Mother is looking for you. She must be worried about breakfast."

"Why?"

"In case you have not noticed, Mason came with us here at Herst. Natalia St. Vincent is not used to having children around."

Aliya sighed, discarded her robe, and hastily changed into her morning dress.

She proceeded downstairs to look for Mason and found him at the back of the manor with Ellise. Winfield was a large manor, and so was its balcony that overlooked the western sea.

Ellise was putting on her riding shoes and Mason was watching with his elbow resting on his thighs and his hands cradling his chin.

"Soon, when you are ready, I will teach you how to ride a horse," Ellise was saying.

"After I learn how to swim or before?"

"Before," said her sister-in-law.

Aliya leaned in the doorframe, smiling as she watched.

"What?" Ellise asked Mason as she jumped to her feet.

The child's blue eyes looked up at Ellise with wonder. "You don't smile. Don't you like me?"

"Of course, I smile."

"When?"

"Every time," said Ellise.

"No."

"In my head, I smile," Ellise said, looking around. "Where is your governess, young man?"

Mason shrugged.

Aliya stepped in and said, "Come, Mason, let us go find Dorothy."

Mason jumped to his feet and Aliya chuckled when she heard Ellise sigh with relief.

Later, just before breakfast, she and Mason watched from the balcony as Ellise rode by the beach, the tail of her tied hair swaying as her black horse bounded on the sand.

Mason could not help but spurt words of wonder.

Oliver joined them later to tell them that his mother was expecting them for breakfast.

Later that afternoon, Ellise was hiding from Mason; Dorothy was searching the manor for Mason; Natalia and Simon went out to visit a neighbor; Aliya and Oliver locked themselves in their bedchamber and made love.

Another glorious day and it was followed by two more.

Late one night, Aliya watched as Oliver poked the fire and she smiled. "What are you smiling about?" Oliver asked, grinning from where he stood.

"We are always naked in the bedchamber," she said, hugging her knees, her back bare to the cold night.

"Would you like to get naked outside?" he asked, walking back to bed, stark naked and confident. His hair had grown longer and was tied at the nape; his beard trimmed by her that morning. Oliver St. Vincent was a sight and Aliya would fight anyone who would say otherwise. She rested her chin on her knees.

"We have been naked outdoor, Ollie," she said, reminding him of that one night in Birth.

"Ah, yes, of course," he said, rolling on the bed toward her, stopping beside her thigh and hips. With a sigh, he grabbed her hand and played with her fingers over his chest. "What are you thinking?"

She rolled her head to the side to meet his eyes. "That you look very alluring."

He moistened his lips and playfully tickled the center of her palm. He brought it to his lips, kissed, and licked it. "And you taste wonderful."

Aliya raised the back of his hand to her lips. "You smell like burning wood." She playful bit his knuckles. "I never thought I would ever find the smell of burning wood so inviting after the night of the Gambler."

He stiffened beside her.

She sighed, the memory no longer bringing her the same pang. She did not hurt as much, but it was still dismal.

"When I woke up that night, the outhouse was burning. The families of the men my father killed that night barged into Thornridge." She did not know if he knew of the details of that night, but it was refreshing to tell him. And if it would make him tell her more of the constant thoughts that bothered him, she would gladly relive the most horrific night of her life.

He did not stop her as she continued, "At that time, I did not know what happened. I did not know my father was responsible for the life of some men. Aunt Geneva, my father's sister, was vacationing with us then, and Delaney and I slept in her bedchamber. We could hear footsteps running around the entire manor. We had to hide under the bed with Delaney for some time. We could hear the servants crying somewhere. I had to keep Delaney from crying so I played with her under the bed, telling her that it was a silent game—that we were not allowed to talk.

"Aunt Geneva slipped from under the bed when the household went quiet and the footsteps disappeared. She was gone for quite some time. Delaney fell asleep by then. She must have been bored by our game.

"When our aunt came back, she was crying. She told us we had to leave Thornbridge. With nothing but our coats, we ran out of the manor and into a carriage already waiting for us. From the distance, I saw the outhouse burning. Thick smoke was rising in the air like clouds."

His hand had stilled around hers. "And then you left?" he asked, his voice bare of emotion.

"No," Aliya said, shaking her head. "Aunt Geneva had to return inside the manor. I thought she was going to get Mother, but when she came back, she was alone. The servants were busy with the fire at the outhouse and it was at that point that I realized we were alone."

"Your mother was dead."

"The men found her first. Then they burned the outhouse. They must have not known Aunt Geneva was staying with us and that we were sleeping with her. It was only a matter of time before they found us, Aunt Geneva said. She did not know where to go. My father had very little friends. My mother was dead."

"And she told you everything? About your mother?"

"Of course. I was fifteen, Ollie."

He kissed her hand. "I remember your mother. She easily laughed like you."

Her smile widened, her mind used to only remembering the woman when she was alive. Her mother taught her everything about family and love. "Despite the man she married and the abuse she suffered, Antonina Guideville had so much love to give."

Turning on the bed, he planted a kiss on her exposed hip. "And your aunt took you to Belcourt."

She nodded, squeezing his hand. "She did. It was the safest place for us. They would not let us in at first, but we begged. I begged them to let us in. They finally conceded, but my aunt cannot enter Belcourt. She told us she will return for us.

"Days passed. And then weeks. Belcourt had to decide if they should take me in. They could take Delaney as she was young. I was fifteen. They did not take in older children. But I begged them to let me stay. I shall be a good girl, I told them. I will do anything they wanted."

His hand gripped hers tightly. "Years later, the very moment I was courted as a Belle, I found out that my aunt had escaped back to the Americas."

Oliver rolled on his back and stayed very quiet and still beside her. She looked down at him and found that he was blankly staring at the ceiling. With a smile, she fell back to lay on the bed beside him, sliding lower so she could wrap her arm and leg over him, and she murmured, "When did you start looking for me?"

His voice cracked as he replied, "Five years ago. The very moment I returned to Sutherland."

She frowned. His voice was void—hollow. Thinking he must be affected by her tale, Aliya tried to divert the subject. "And you did not approach me even once?"

She patiently waited for him to recover and when he did, his head rolled to the side to face her. "Darling, do you know what they say about delaying gratification?"

She snorted. "I believe you have taught me the same thing too many times in bed."

Climbing over her, he covered her body with his. "Because it is worthwhile," he murmured, biting her lip.

He was distracting her again, Aliya thought.

Then he buried his face in her neck again, smelling her scent—just like he did on the ship.

Just as he would whenever he wanted to hide from her.

*****

Oliver left their bedchamber in the middle of the night and entered the library.

He grabbed the bottle of brandy and took it to a nearby chair. He emptied the first glass in one gulp.

He cursed the second glass and emptied it just as fast.

Tilting his head back, he started to curse himself.

He should be happy, he thought.

He finally rescued the girl.

But he could not bring himself to feel so.

The guilt was eating him at every waking moment.

Pouring himself another drink, he remembered the last time he got foxed. It must have been that night when Aliya came to him in Sinclair; that night he gave her the option to marry him.

Since then, the thought of drinking rarely came.

And he thought he was done with it—that perhaps taking her out of Belcourt, rescuing her from that place—was enough.

But then it came back. The desire to forget started to creep in after the wedding. The thirst to numb the desolation and remorse came back with a wrathful vengeance.

Oliver emptied the glass, swallowed the bitter taste of brandy, and then covered his face with his hands.

His shoulders began to shake and he started to sob quietly until the veins in his neck engorged.

Sniffing, he chuckled sardonically in the darkness of the library. He poured another drink, emptied its contents, and repeated the process until he was numb and he could not think of anything else but Aliya.

And the cruise. And the monkey and the dark ocean that carried their childish peals of laughter.

He drank until his mind was filled with everything else but that night.

A whimper escaped him as he emptied the bottle.

And then he sighed, throwing his head back.

He murmured words, smiled, chuckled, and sobbed.

Without the awareness of time and being, Oliver's thoughts left him.

Peace, at last

He dreamed of the ocean and the night sky, the faint light beyond the horizon, the wind blowing her hair to his mouth. He heard her childish chuckles as the monkey jumped from her shoulder and hung on the railing. He heard his own laughter.

But then someone was shaking him. "Ollie," Aliya's voice softly whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Darling," he said with a sob. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his lids heavy.

"Ollie, why are you doing this?" he thought he heard her ask. He did not answer for she was just a dream and dreams did not deserve answers for they were likewise as cryptic as reality.

*****

The next day, Aliya, Simon, Natalia, Ellise, and Mason were having luncheon when Oliver stumbled into the dining room.

She saw the stern look on Natalia's face as her son wobbled into the room and sat beside his wife.

"Good morning," he murmured.

"I hope you slept well," Aliya nonchalantly said.

"I did, thank you," he murmured as he leaned over to kiss her cheek.

She wrinkled her nose and cupped his face. "You need a bath, Ollie."

He grumbled under his breath while Simon and Natalia looked at each other.

At that point, Aliya realized the couple knew what was going on.

She pretended to be all right, but she could only endure as much.

When she saw that Mason was done with his meal, she stood and excused from the table to deliver Mason to Dorothy for his lessons where she spent the rest of the afternoon.

By supper, Oliver was back to being Ollie. He would grab Aliya's hand under the table and play with it as they ate. And after their meal and they retreated into the drawing room for tea, he openly discussed with Simon his opinions on the issues printed by the Sutherland Post while Aliya drank tea with Natalia and Ellise. Soon after, the three of them left the two men to retire for the night.

But Aliya did not immediately do so. She walked to the back of the manor, took off her lace slippers, and walked along the beach.

She could not understand why she was feeling so forlorn when she should not.

No, of course, not. She knew exactly why she was feeling this way.

Walking as far as she could from the manor, Aliya sat on the sand and allowed the gentle waves to take her into a trance.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Oliver's silhouette approach.

She did not say a word when he reached her and settled behind her.

His long legs caged her from both sides. His arms wrapped around her from behind and his face nuzzled her neck.

She felt the tears at the back of her eyes and she blinked them away.

"I took a bath," he said in jest.

She stayed immobile and quiet. She could not reply for she was in no mood to jest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Ali."

A tear dropped from her eye. "I found you completely foxed, Ollie."

"I know. I'm sorry."

She breathed through her mouth because her nose was stuffed and she did not want him to know she was crying. "You scared me," she said, voice shaking.

He groaned and pulled her closer. "I'm sorry, Ali. Please, darling, don't cry. I am not worth it."

She slapped his arm and then she sniffed, the sobs becoming more uncontrollable. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm trying. I'm trying..."

She wanted to tell him to try harder, but how could she when she did not know the struggle he had to deal with every day?

Aliya twisted to wrap her arms around him. She could never hate this man, she thought. She only wished he would tell her more.

His hand went under her chin and tilted her head to meet his kiss. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You do not scare me like that again."

"I will try. Ali," he said, cupping her face. "I am trying."

She nodded. "I know."

*****

The next morning, Natalia invited Aliya to her greenhouse after she settled Mason in his schoolroom.

"Where is Ellise?" she asked her mother-in-law.

"Hunting, where else?"

"Hunting?"

"In the woods nearby," Natalia said with a sigh. "That daughter of mine will not leave the woods if she had her way."

"And who is she with?"

"She likes going alone."

Aliya's eyes widened. "And you let her?"

"She will still find a way to escape if we do not."

In utter disbelief and wonder, Aliya blinked a few times. When they reached the greenhouse, which was larger by far than that of Lady Winthrop's, Aliya asked, "Does she use a gun—"

"She likes her bow and arrows."

"Oh, good Lord..."

"Horrible, really."

"No, I find it amazing."

Natalia threw her a disapproving look. "You do not show that awe to Ellise. It will merely encourage her eccentric ways."

She bit her lips to hide her laughter. "Of course."

"But I took you here for another reason," Natalia said, gracefully walking down the row of plants. Flowers of different kinds bloomed around them, yet Aliya could not get herself to enjoy them as Natalia said, "You must realize by now that Oliver has a problem."

Aliya did not reply and instead waited for Natalia to continue.

"His drinking started when he returned to Sutherland from overseas. Are you aware of that?"

"No, we never talked about it."

Natalia paused to look at her. And then she nodded. She turned around to continue walking. "You must be suffering because of it."

"I try not to let it grow into an even bigger problem," she retorted.

"But you must wonder what made him this way," said Natalia, pausing once more to face Aliya.

Outside, the sun was shining and it was a perfect day for a walk. She could find Oliver and they may enjoy an afternoon by the beach with Mason. She could leave this greenhouse and search for her husband.

Now.

But then she could not because she wanted to know.

"Oliver may never tell you because he will never be able to live with himself if he loses you because of it, which I think is stupid of him, considering he married a wise woman."

Aliya frowned. "Why would he think he would lose me?"

Natalia's green gaze held hers. "Oliver blames himself for what happened to your mother—for what happened to you and your sister. And he also blames himself for the lives of the men your father took thirteen years ago."