Chapter Fourteen − The Fear of Failing
Over the next few weeks, Derek fell into a comfortable routine with his tenants. Most days he spent assisting them in restoring their homes, slowly getting to know them as well as their families. The barn had all but vanished, its wood needed to repair holes and splintering boards, now that autumn was well on its way. The wind grew chillier and the sun set earlier, cutting the days short and reducing the hours of light they could spend on necessary repairs.
Once the saw had been delivered, a few tenants had begun cutting down trees. However, so late in the year, they would not be able to rebuild what had been lost to the seasons of the past decades. Still, a sense of cautious hope hung in the air as plans were made for the following spring.
Toward the end of most days, Derek would climb to the roof of Huntington House and see to the many leaks and weak spots that had developed over the years. He worked slowly and carefully, systematically combing the slates for deficiencies, always ensuring sure footing as he took another step. Still, he could not help but notice his mother’s and sister’s fearful glances when they looked up at him. He saw the memory in their eyes of their father slipping on their wet roof so many years ago and falling to his end. Though he had survived the fall, he had never recovered, his body broken beyond repair.
Lost in thought, Derek caught sight of his wife as she stepped out of the house in one of her fancy gowns, a warm coat wrapped around her, and carefully weaved her way around the many puddles that covered the ground toward the small path that led to the pond. After sending her lady’s maid back home, she had slowly begun to help around the house whenever his mother would suggest a task. However, so far, she seemed unable to make her peace with her new home.
And yet, she stayed.
Derek could not help but wonder why.
As she had made it half-way down to the pond, Collin came running out of the house, chasing after her. “Maddie! Maddie wait for me!”
Derek grinned. Despite his wife’s best efforts, his nephew seemed to be unable−or unwilling−to remember to call her my lady or at the very least Madeline. He continued to call her Maddie, and by now, she had given up on correcting him.
Still, Derek often noticed the small eye roll that spoke of her annoyance, and he wondered if it was simply an expression of years spent learning what was proper or if it was a sign that she truly disliked being called Maddie.
Derek doubted it, for despite those little signs of annoyance, his wife seemed to have taken to Collin in a way he would not have expected. Although she often seemed a bit stiff around the boy, she always took her time answering all his many questions. Often, they would go into the stables and feed Milly, one of their sturdy farm horses. Especially now that the mare was expecting a young one, Collin felt the need to feed and stroke her whenever possible.
And the one person he wanted by his side when he did so…was Maddie.
Shaking his head, Derek smiled. More than once, he had observed that those who seemed to dislike children the most are the very ones that the little ones find the most fascinating, following them tirelessly, inviting them to play, offering their own little wisdom.
And Collin was nothing if not tenacious.
Maddie had no chance.
Before long, she had come to accept his presence, his childish admiration and exuberance slowly thawing her icy exterior. As he watched them walk down the path to the pond together, Collin’s little face turned up to her, Derek wished he could walk with them. If only he could figure out a way to speak to his wife without lashing out at her.
Although they occasionally managed a short conversation in a civilised tone, it usually turned into a heated argument whenever they were left alone together for too long. Annoyed with his own lack of self-control, Derek wondered what it was about his wife that had his emotions boiling so close to the surface. Usually, he was the one who remained calm no matter what the circumstances. However, when he was around her…
Derek shook his head, remembering a day about a fortnight ago when he had come upon her and Kara walking back from the small well behind the house. Careful not to ruin her precious shoes, his wife had kept to the gravel, avoiding the wet grass and the occasional mud puddle, while his sister had carried two heavy buckets full of water back to the kitchen.
More than his own annoyance, Derek had cringed under the hateful glares of his tenants as they had become aware of the sight.
Striding toward the two women, Derek had snatched the buckets out of Kara’s hands, shooting his wife an angry glare. “You ought not to be carrying these,” he had chided Kara in a gentle tone, doing his utmost not to let her see his anger. “Not in your condition.”
“I’m fine,” Kara had assured him, a rather indulgent smile on her face as she had followed him inside where he had set down the buckets by the stove. Without another word, Derek had returned outside, closing the door before his wife could slip inside as well.
“What are you doing?” she had asked as he had stepped in her way. “It’s cold. Let me in.” Rubbing her hands down her arms, she had stood before him, her green eyes slightly narrowed.
“She’s with child!” he had hissed in her face, his fists balled to control his anger. How could anyone be so oblivious?
Drawing in a deep breath, his wife had lifted her chin. “Then you ought to find someone to help out around the house.”
“I told you there are no servants here,” he had growled under his breath, unwilling for the argument to be overheard. “Do you truly not see when your help is needed? Or do you only hope to escape it by ignoring to see the need? Are you truly this selfish?”
At his words, her face had turned red with anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me like this! It is not my fault that you are unwilling to hire servants.”
“It might be hard for you understand that, but not everyone can afford servants.” Gritting his teeth, Derek had glared at her.
A challenging grin had come to his wife’s face as she had held his gaze. “You can now.”
Stunned into silence, Derek had stared at her. “I told you I would not use a penny of your dowry.”
“Why not? After all, you did what you had to do to claim it.”
Fighting down the urge to shake her, Derek had taken a step closer, his gaze burning into hers, openly showing the anger he felt. “Go inside before I strangle you!”
Completely unimpressed, she had rolled her eyes at him as though all of this was a mere game and had then wordlessly slipped past him and into the house. Derek had remained rooted to the spot for another minute or two, afraid he would lash out at the next person he met merely because he could not control the anger that made his blood boil.
That day had been a dark one, and yet, Derek knew that as unimpressed as she had acted, she had understood him. For only a few days later, he had walked into the kitchen to see her stop Kara from lifting a bag of flour. Bending down, she had picked it up herself, placing it on the workbench. Then upon stepping back, she had become aware of the flour now clinging to the front of her precious gown and let out a blood-curdling shriek.
Derek had laughed at the sight, unable to help himself.
And his wife had swung around to glare at him, her own eyes now filled with hatred.
It seemed they were caught in a snare of their own making, trapped, unable to break out.
Turning his gaze from his wife and Collin as they came to stand by the pond, throwing little pebbles into the water, Derek sighed, wondering how best to continue…
…with the roof…
…as well as his wife.
When the sun began to drop lower and the light slipped away, making the roof more treacherous, Derek decided to climb down. It would serve no one if he fell from the roof and broke his neck. As he glanced at his accomplished work one last time, Derek realised that he felt a certain amount of resentment toward Madeline as her words and actions belittled the accomplishments he had achieved. After all, not everyone was born into a rich family with servants to see to their every wish! Some people−most people, actually−had to do the work themselves.
Looking at the small area of the roof he had been able to restore that day, Derek determinedly lifted his chin. At least now, his sister’s room would be free of rain, and that was something to be proud of. Did his wife resent him that he had not patched the part of the roof covering her own chamber first?
Abandoning such thoughts, Derek climbed down from the roof and then headed into the kitchen through the back entrance. As he stepped into the room, he was surprised to find only his wife standing by the workbench, angrily attacking a bunch of carrots with a sharp knife, muttering angry curses under her breath.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, looking around. “Where are Mother and Kara?”
Flinching at the sound of his voice, his wife turned to glare at him. “Don’t sneak up on me!” she admonished before turning back to the carrots. “Kara and Collin have come down with a cold. Your mother is seeing to them.”
Derek felt his insides constrict. Illnesses were outside his control, and they terrified him. “Is it serious?”
“How would I know?” Madeline snapped as the knife cut through the carrot, dangerously close to her fingers.
“You seem upset,” Derek stated as he stepped closer, his gaze taking in the silent anger that held her body in its clutches. “Is something wrong?”
A disbelieving snort escaped his wife. “Wrong?” Shaking her head in exasperation, she sighed. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
Derek drew in a slow breath. “Do you truly despise being here so much?”
At his words, she froze. Then her head turned, and she looked at him with wide eyes. “How can you ask that?”
“Because I don’t understand,” Derek admitted. “I know this life is different, but can you truly not derive satisfaction from accomplishing something, from knowing that you’re needed, that you’re making a difference?”
Staring at him, she swallowed. “Am I?” she croaked, and for a second, her gaze fell from his. Then she drew in a deep breath, and her head snapped up once more, the green in her eyes ablaze. “In case it has escaped your attention, my lord, I have nothing to be satisfied with as I have not accomplished anything.” Her tone remained calm, and yet, Derek could tell that she was on the brink of giving in to a panic that seemed to be hiding just below the surface. “I don’t know how to do anything you ask of me. I fail at everything. Can you not see that? Or do you merely ask me that to make me feel even smaller than I already do?”
Stunned by her honest revelation, Derek hesitated. Was that truly how she saw herself? Was it not the snobbish notion to be better than others that kept her from helping, but the fear of failing at tasks as simple as cutting vegetables?
“You seem to have everything under control,” he finally said, pointing to the steaming pot. “Would you not call that an accomplishment? Even if it might only be a small one. However, without it, we would go hungry tonight.”
Holding her gaze, Derek saw a small spark of pride light up for the barest of seconds. However, it was immediately snuffed out by renewed anger and doubt. “All of this is your mother’s doing. Not mine. I wouldn’t even know−”
“But you’re helping,” Derek reminded her. “Without your help−”
“But I’m doing it wrong!” she snapped, her arms waving about, the knife still in her hand. “Even the smallest tasks your mother gives me, I cannot do right. I cannot even cut carrots!” With wide eyes, she shook her head, her hands gesturing wildly. “Not the right way and too slow! I spill and drop things. I know nothing of cooking or sewing and mending clothes.” Again, she glanced at the pot, then snorted. “And now I’m standing here talking to you when I ought to be cutting these.”
Snatching up another carrot, Madeline turned back to the workbench, her brow furrowed in tense determination. “I need to finish before she comes back and sees that I’ve failed her again. Not only does she need to look after Kara and Collin but help also me out as well.”
Concern sneaked into Derek’s heart as he watched Madeline berate herself. Always had she seemed confident and self-assured, and yet, in the past few weeks, her well-crafted mask had begun to slip, revealing more and more of her insecurities. If only she were not so afraid to show them, Derek thought with regret. Still, he could understand the need to appear strong, better than she might think.
“Why is it,” his wife demanded, not taking her eyes off the carrots, “that you always help your tenants before you lift a finger for your own family?”
Derek drew in a slow breath, aware that she was merely trying to redirect her anger. “Because my family has more than they do. Because they need it more. Because they have no one to look out for them.” Stepping closer, he spoke in a calm tone, his gaze fixed on her face as her knife continued to slice through the orange vegetable in jerky cuts. “Because they have you now.”
At his words, her head swivelled around, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Her fingers slipped off the carrot, and yet, her other hand brought down the knife as before.
Alarmed, Derek stepped forward, reaching for the knife, but it was too late.
Blood welled up as the tip of the blade broke her skin, and she let out a cry of pain.