A girl selling flowers shrieked behind him, causing Ellen tolook up. Mark knew the second she laid eyes on him, because she froze. Then her head came upright, her hand dropped from the stone, and she gracefully rose to her feet. Ellen walked toward him, as slow and regal as a queen.
Mark suddenly realized that not only did he have no idea who his wife was, he also absolutely, undoubtedly, didn’t deserve her.
“What are you doing here?” Ellen stood on the other side of the fence, her face pale with shadows under her eyes.
“I came to find you.” Mark swallowed. “A servant told me you were here. He said you come every Thursday morning.”
Ellen stared at him, unblinking. “I do.”
Mark forced a laugh, embarrassed. “I’m afraid I thought you had reneged on our deal, and I was trying to track you down.”
“I was visiting our daughter.” If she knew those words hit him like a punch in the gut, she gave no sign.
Mark licked his lips. “So this is where you buried her.”
“My parents buried her here. I was...not well enough to be a part of the funeral arrangements.”
Silence fell between them, so thick and clinging Mark felt he might suffocate. If he opened his mouth the silence would pour in, coating his tongue and throat, choking all life out of him. And still. “I’m sorry.”
Ellen arched a brow. “For what?”
Mark had no idea what he was sorry for. “Everything?” That sounded right. She clearly thought he had a lot to be sorry for.
Ellen just stared at him, and he felt like the dirt beneath their feet.
“I didn’t get your father’s letter until two months after,” he rushed to say. “We were in the middle of the Atlantic. If he wanted word to reach me quickly, he should’ve telegraphed.”
Ellen was statuesque, like a goddess condemning him.
“I didn’t mean to leave you alone like this,” Mark said.
“Didn’t you?”
He sighed. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. You shouldn’t havedealt with this alone. It was unconscionable of me to not ask for leave as soon as I heard and come to visit.”
Ellen sighed and looked human again. She glanced away, as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him. “If you’re here, we might as well talk and be done.”
Oh, this was the complete worst time to talk to her about having more children. Even Mark could realize that much. He shook his head. “It’s not that important. It can keep.”
She frowned. “I have a busy day planned, so I’ll leave now.”
“I can escort you back to your father’s house,” Mark offered.
Ellen shook her head, as he knew she would. “I don’t need your help.” She met his gaze. “You destroyed my heart. And when our daughter died and my soul was destroyed, you didn’t even lift a finger. I rebuilt my life, piece by piece, moment by moment. And I like the life I have now. I don’t want to change a single thing about it.” She jutted her chin, daring him to contradict her.
He’d nothing to say to that. He stood stock still as Ellen left him, walking down the fence line until she came to the gate and stepped out. Mark waited until she left before breathing again.
His feet dragged him forward, even though he didn’t want to go. Mark walked through the gate, into the small, old cemetery. His feet led him to the elm tree. Stomach churning, Mark faced the slate gray headstone.
Constance Persephone Glenfall
May 24, 1880
Beloved daughter
Born at rest
Mark sat.He stared at the headstone. His daughter lay beneath him, resting in the ground. He was a bastard. He was a spawn of Satan. He had left Ellen alone to bear and grieve theirchild, and had only sent her flowers and a note when he got the news. Mark cringed, thinking back to it.