The Scoundrel Duke of her Heart by Violet Hamers

Chapter Thirty-Seven

If she let Umbra throw her off, she could sustain some injury or worse, get trampled by the agitated horse. Thus, Jenny’s slackened grip regained life.

“Easy, Umbra!” she called, glancing at the approaching figure. “Calm down, my dear. We need to leave this place.”

What was I thinking, coming out here by myself at this hour? She admonished herself, clenching her jaw.

“Shhh.” Umbra tried to rear again and the figure stopped approaching. They raised their arms in a gesture of surrender.

“I mean you no harm. I promise.”

Jenny squinted into the darkness to make out the man to whom the familiar voice belonged. "Phineas?"

“The very one,” he responded and her body slackened with relief. Only then did she realize how afraid she had been. He took hold of his horse and continued his approach.

“It’s good to see you, Phineas.” Umbra was calm now and she stroked her mane. Speaking with Phineas seemed to lower her defenses.

“Good girl,” he said, aiming to stand in front of Umbra. “You did well, protecting your mistress when she recklessly ventured into the night alone.”

“Protect me? She nearly threw me off.”

“But she did not. Perhaps she knew you would hold on. She warned you of danger.”

“You’re no danger, Phineas.”

“No, I am not but it could have been someone else.” He was frowning when he looked up at her. “What are you doing here by yourself in the dead of the night, Jenny?”

"I wanted to blend into the darkness," she heard herself respond, her voice small and fragile.

Rustling sounded from a nearby bush and Umbra became restless again. Phineas immediately took hold of her reins and gently cooed to calm the mare down. As Jenny watched him with the horse, something about his demeanor seemed different. A certain ruefulness tinged his otherwise jovial features. She supposed he had troubles of his own. It would explain why he was out at this hour, too.

"Do you realize how reckless and dangerous that is?" he asked. Before she could respond, he turned to Umbra. "Perhaps we are going about this the wrong way. Can you dismount, please?”

Jenny dismounted and allowed him to take care of the horse. She surprisingly took to him, even nuzzling his hand fondly. He dipped his other hand into his coat pocket and extracted a cube of sugar, giving it to her.

"That's it, girl," he encouraged as she heartily lapped it off his hand. “We should give her a moment to calm down without you being atop her.”

They led the horses away from the fields and back to the cobbled roads of the park. After securing them to a tree, they took a seat on a nearby bench. The lump in her throat grew and she fought the emotions she had been repressing. She wanted to share her pain with someone who would understand and perhaps advise her but she didn’t want to burden Phineas with it.

"I suppose it is now my turn to ask you what you are doing out here by yourself in the dead of night," she said, drawing the lapels of her cloak together as a gust of cool air rushed past them.

"Same as you," he replied. "I am trying to blend into the darkness."

If she were herself, she would have given him a witty rejoinder but she was taken aback somewhat by his response. Tonight, Phineas was a different person altogether. His effervescence was buried underneath solemnness. Jenny did not like it. "And were you successful?" she asked.

"That depends.” He stared ahead. They were sitting near a lamppost and she could see his pensiveness.

"On?" she prodded.

"It depends on what your perception of darkness is."

"What is your perception of darkness, Phineas?" Jenny was seeking to help him if she could.

"Patience,” he said a moment later. "If you ask me, Jenny, I would say that patience through trying times is the one most difficult thing in the world. Those instances when you try your hardest to pull through but every effort you make rebounds in your face. Those times are the darkness."

Jenny felt the same way about her life. She had been patient yet more patience was being asked of her. Every time she had tried to reach her husband, something had come between them. "Sometimes, I feel like the world is mocking me," she murmured, staring into the distance as Phineas was doing.

"Precisely," he agreed. A disquieting silence settled between them before he broke it with, “To answer your question, I needed some fresh air tonight to brood. Coincidentally, you needed some fresh air, as well.”

“Why are you brooding?”

"Remember I told you I knew a Jenny once?” She nodded and he carried on. “She died, you know."

Jenny turned empathetic eyes at him. “What happened?”

"Dexter, there," he pointed to his stallion that grazed near Umbra, "was her horse. He was born with a slight defect. He favored his right side, hence her naming him Dexter. She nursed him to health. Trained him to balance until she was able to ride him. Whenever it proved challenging, her father would ask her to give up.”

He allowed a slight smile. Something about his tale was reaching into her heart and reminding her of Nicholas.

“But my Jenny would say, ‘All hope isn't lost so long as he is fighting.’ And Dexter would continue to fight so long as he was not given up on. He is mine now and however long it takes, I will pull him out of the dark. A little patience is all it takes.'"

Phineas' sadness surrounded them. His Jenny meant more to him than she had realized. There was more to that story and she wished to know. "Dexter seems to have pulled through," she observed.

"He has. I had him brought all the way from her hometown in Ireland. I try not to push him too hard though as it can unnerve him sometimes, but overall, he is a tenacious one. It takes a lot to bring him down. Jenny would have been very proud."

"What happened to her?"

"She drowned. I could not save her. I loved her more than life itself but I could not save her."

"It is not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, Phineas," Jenny touched his hand. "I wish I had your kind of courage. Or Jenny's."

"You underestimate yourself." He gave her a small smile.

"I'm finding it difficult to be strong. It is taking me too long to find my way and I fear I am on the brink of giving up."

The emotions she had been keeping away came forth and only when she felt Phineas' hand gently brushing away her tears did she realize it. It was a small and simple gesture but it let her know that she had an ally and she did not feel as alone anymore.

“I have a strong shoulder, Jenny,” Phineas said. “You may cry on it.” Without hesitating, she leaned her head on his shoulder but she did not let the tears continue to flow and he took note.

"It takes courage to cry and be vulnerable, Jenny," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "My mistake was compensating for my lack of courage by concealing the bleakness I felt within with a constant smile on my face. You taught me that washing the outside of an altogether dirty boot does not make wearing it any comfortable. One has to clean the inside first."

“How did I teach you that?” She sniffed.

“You are cleaning the inside of your shoe and not merely polishing the outside.” A growl that sounded almost inhuman startled them and Jenny lifted her head from Phineas’s shoulder in time to see a horse approach them. She tensed when she saw the rider dismount and recognized him. Nicholas.

"You bastard!" He marched toward them, every inch of him taut with rage. Instinctively, Jenny sprang to her feet and situated herself between the two men for fear of what could happen if their emotions got out of hand.

“What are you doing with my wife?”

“Helping her.” Phineas met his intimidating gaze.

"Stay away from my wife," Nicholas warned.

Jenny jumped to defend Phineas. "Don’t place any blame on him, please. He is not the one in the wrong here."

Nicholas looked at her now, staring at her with equal parts dismay, anger, and regret. "What were you thinking going riding at this time? Anything could have happened if the groom had not brought it to notice. You had the entire household worried."

"Just the household?" She asked, searching his face and remembering Jenny from Ireland's words about all hope not being lost so long as one continued to fight. She fleetingly wondered if that could apply to her husband and their wreckage of a marriage. The concern she found in his eyes encouraged her.

“No, Jenny.” His expression softened into an amalgam of dolefulness and tenderness.

Phineas slipped away to retrieve their horses and Nicholas glared at him. “I met him here and when Umbra grew restless and frightened, he helped me calm her.”

“Let’s go home,” he said, reaching for her hand but stopping himself. The aborted move did not escape her notice, nor did it pain her any less.

She swallowed and continued to explain. "There is no danger in a friend's shoulder, Nicholas. We all find ourselves in need of it once in a while. Sir Phineas did nothing wrong."

“You should have returned home when you saw him,” he said.

“He is my friend,” she cried in exasperation. “What do I have to do to end this enmity between you?”

Nicholas did not respond. He was still angry even though his voice was calm. Phineas returned with Umbra. "Thank you for opening my eyes tonight, Jenny," Phineas said before taking her hand and placing a gallant kiss on her knuckles, and handing her Umbra's reins.

Nicholas looked away at Phineas’ courtly gesture. At least, he was not openly showing his dislike of it, which Jenny appreciated. The two men regarded each other for a moment before Phineas mounted his horse and rode back from whence he had come, disappearing into the copse of trees.

“What did he mean by that?” Nicholas asked, taking Umbra’s reins from her hand and beckoning at a groom in the distance to take her. Jenny assumed he was going to make her ride with him.

“He shared some of his troubles with me and I helped him.”

“Did you share yours?” he whispered sadly.

“Yes,” she admitted. Phineas had said nothing but she suspected he was aware her marriage was troubled.

Nicholas sighed, looking anguished, before saying, “I don’t like this but we shall talk about it at home. Let’s go..” Then he turned and began to walk toward his horse.

“Is it so hard for you to respect him?” She called after him, refusing to follow him as he was expecting her to.

He stopped. “Let’s go home, Jenny.”

Either Jenny was on a streak of stubbornness or she was losing her mind. “Where is home, Nicholas? That fancy pile of bricks? I am not going back there.”

He turned to face her. “Where will you go then?”

“I don’t know.” She wanted to be anywhere but there. She wanted to continue fighting for his love but returning to her bedchamber tonight would remind her of her sadness.

“Come home with me, Jenny,” he implored, coming to her.

“I don’t want to, Nicholas. At least, not tonight.” She shook her head and looked away.

He took her shoulders. “This is my fault, I know. I hate myself for doing this to you. I hate myself for letting you go to another man to cry. Understand that if I had a choice… Please come home.”

“We always have a choice,” she said, shrugging his hands off her shoulders and brushing past him to her mare. When she mounted, she added. “Make your choice. Am I your wife or am I a decoration in your house?”