Chapter 8 Farewell, My Love

That morning, Patrick stood in his room, carefully folding his traveling cloak and polishing his boots, a heavy ache settling in his chest. The news had come early, he was to sail for business for the next three months. A great opportunity, yes, but it meant leaving Maeve so soon after confessing his feelings. The thought made his fingers tremble as he fastened his belt.

Jeffrey leaned against the doorframe, a teasing smirk on his face.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," Jeffrey said, raising an eyebrow.

"It-" Patrick stopped, running a hand through his hair. "It is not so simple, Jeffrey. Three months... without seeing her. And I barely know how she feels."

Jeffrey chuckled, shaking his head. "I see the mighty Patrick Doyle, conqueror of hearts, has been reduced to a lovesick teenager. You'll survive, cousin. Just remember, absence makes the heart grow fonder, or so they say."

Patrick gave a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed the turmoil. "Fonder... but my heart aches already."

"Then go," Jeffrey said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Go see her, say your goodbyes properly. And for heaven's sake, try not to cry into her hands. She might faint at the sight of you."

Patrick laughed softly despite the weight in his chest. "Very well. I shall endure... for her sake."

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Patrick made his way along the winding path that led to Maeve's cottage. Stormwind, his loyal horse, followed patiently, as if sensing the weight of the moment. Patrick's fingers tightened around the reins, from the nervous anticipation that throbbed in his veins.

He reached the small wooden gate and hesitated. The air smelled faintly of fresh hay and the early blossoms that had begun to peek from the garden. Maeve would be there, tending to her morning chores, oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and knocked lightly.

Maeve appeared moments later, wiping her hands on a cloth, eyes bright with curiosity. "Patrick?"

Patrick smiled, though it was strained. "Yes. I wished to see you before I depart."

Her brows furrowed slightly, sensing the seriousness in his voice. "Depart? But... today?"

He nodded. "Tomorrow morning. I must travel by sea for business with my father. I shall be away for three months. I could not leave without seeing you first."

Maeve's hands faltered in their task. "Three months? That is a long time."

"It is far too long," Patrick said softly, stepping closer. "And yet, I must go. I cannot refuse the opportunity. But I could not leave without telling you that I am still awaiting your answer."

Her breath caught. "Patrick..."

He reached out, gently taking her hands in his, careful not to startle her. "Maeve, I do not ask for a reply today. Only that you remember the time we have shared, the laughter and the moments we have spent together. I am not gone to forget you. I am gone to hope that when I return, you will have considered me in your heart."

Maeve's cheeks warmed, and she lowered her gaze. "Patrick... I-"

Patrick's voice was tender, almost breaking. "You need not say anything now. Just remember me, and think kindly of our days. I shall count the hours until my return, and I shall hope that you are well, happy, and safe."

She lifted her eyes, meeting his, and for a moment, words failed her. The honesty and the raw vulnerability in his gaze, left her breathless.

"I will remember, Patrick."

A faint smile broke across his lips, though it did not reach his eyes.

"Thank you, Maeve. That is all I ask. It is enough to sustain me across the waves, through the storms, and beneath the sun's cruel glare."

He let go of her hands reluctantly, his own trembling slightly, and took a step back. "I must go now. Stormwind waits, and the tide will not be patient. But know this... you are cherished, Maeve. Always."

Maeve's voice was barely a whisper. "And you, Patrick, shall be safe."

Patrick nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. He mounted Stormwind, adjusting the reins, the polished leather glinting in the evening sun. The horse shifted, impatient to move, and Patrick patted its neck. "Hold steady, my friend."

Maeve's hands clutched the gate as he guided Stormwind down the path. He urged Stormwind forward, the hooves striking the earth in a steady rhythm. Maeve watched him go, there was a tightness in her chest, her heart was fluttering. The path seemed longer now, stretching endlessly as he disappeared from sight, carrying with him the promise of return and the unspoken words that hung heavy in the air.

That evening, Patrick returned home, the weight of departure pressing on him. He found Jeffrey in the study, reading quietly by the fire, his brow furrowed with mild curiosity. Patrick closed the door behind him, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

"Jeffrey," Patrick began, voice low and earnest. "There is something I require of you before I go."

Jeffrey looked up, sensing the gravity in his cousin's tone. "And what might that be?"

Patrick stepped closer, his eyes serious. "While I am gone, you must watch over Maeve. See that she is well and that she fares as she should. She is important to me, Jeffrey. I cannot bear to be away and know that she struggles without someone to help her, even in small matters."

Jeffrey raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "You want me to babysit her?"

Patrick's jaw clenched, a small, almost imperceptible frown. "Not babysit. Ensure she is safe, that she is well, that she does not face hardship alone. She is dear to me, cousin. I cannot leave knowing she is unattended."

Jeffrey chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You are unusually solemn tonight, Patrick. Very well, I shall keep an eye on her. But I warn you, if she collapses from berries or chores or mischief, you shall not blame me."

Patrick allowed a faint smile, gratitude softening his features. "I trust you. More than I trust anyone else. You have always been good to me. Promise me, Jeffrey, you will help me keep her well until I return."

"I promise," Jeffrey said firmly, meeting his cousin's gaze. "She will be fine. I shall see to it personally."

Patrick's shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension in his chest easing at last. "Thank you, Jeffrey. Your assistance means more than you know. I leave with the hope that when I return, she will still think kindly of me, and perhaps her heart will be ready to give me an answer."

Jeffrey smirked. "And if it's not?"

Patrick's lips curved faintly, though his eyes remained serious. "Then I shall wait. I can wait, however long it takes."

The room fell silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Patrick's thoughts drifted to Maeve, her laughter, her gentle teasing, the way she had looked at him that evening. He held onto that image tightly, committing it to memory, knowing that it would sustain him across the long sea voyage.

"Go then," Jeffrey said at last, standing and placing a reassuring hand on Patrick's shoulder. "She will be safe. You can travel knowing that."

Patrick nodded, a soft sigh escaping him. "I shall depart at first light. May the winds be favourable, and may the sea be kind."

Jeffrey watched as Patrick left the study, a quiet resolve in his posture. He knew that his cousin's heart was heavy, but he also knew that Patrick's intentions were pure. As the door closed behind him, Jeffrey whispered to himself, "I shall see to it, cousin. She will be well and perhaps, in time, you shall have your answer."

Outside, the night was calm, the stars twinkling faintly above the village. Patrick paused for a moment, looking up at the sky, the weight of his promise and hope settling over him. He whispered softly, almost to himself, "Three months and I shall return. Hold steady, Maeve. Hold steady, my heart."

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