by Abby Ayles
“You will leave my house this instant. I don’t even want to see you stop to collect your things. I will have them sent,” Grimshaw said in a deep hard voice.
“If I ever see you so much as set foot on my property again, I will have you arrested. Do I make myself clear?’
“But…” Poole stammered. “Yes, sir,” he finally sighed with resignation.
He turned to leave.
“Another thing,” Lord Grimshaw bellowed, taking full use of his authority.
He held out a hand in front of Poole, “I believe you have something that belongs to Miss Jacobson.”
Poole walked forward tentatively, not sure if it was a trick. Setting the lock of hair into the earl’s hand he stepped back again.
“The keys too,” Grimshaw bellowed.
He took the ring of keys from his pocket. No doubt someone who actually was trusted enough to have these would be searching for them. He would have to take them to Mrs. Brennon in the morning.
“Now go,” Grimshaw growled.
Poole couldn’t meet the earl’s gaze. He simply turned and walked away. It took all Grimshaw’s civility to let the fiend go and not beat him to a pulp.
Chapter 27
Lord Grimshaw could scarcely look at the woman at his side. He was far too ashamed with himself. How he had allowed his governess to be harassed all without his knowledge in the safety of his own home was unforgivable.
“Thank you,” Hannah said, putting a hand on his arm. “I wasn’t sure you were going to believe me.”
He pocketed the pilfered items and turned to the lady. He gently put one hand on either of her arms and pulled her closer to him.
She followed his motion until there was just a breath between them. She arched her head up to look into the earl’s face. She could see it wracked with torment and she wondered if he was again debating her worth in the house.
“I wish you would have told me sooner,” Grimshaw finally said with a soft husk to his voice.
“To think how you must have lived these months,” it pained him to say.
He reached a hand up and let the back of his fingers brush along her jawbone. Hannah leaned into his touch unconsciously.
She couldn’t keep up with her own changing emotions this night. But to go from terrified over Poole’s actions to complete comforting bliss at Lord Grimshaw’s touch was the biggest leap for her.
“It hasn’t all been bad,” she said softly as she relished his touch.
“But it could have been far better,” Grimshaw responded with a furrow of his dark brows.
He tilted her head up ever so slightly with the tips of his fingers. She looked deeply into his dark eyes. He dipped his own head down just slightly.
He wanted to kiss her, to feel her soft velvet lips against his. She was ready and waiting for it as well.
Instantly his mind went to Ann and the letter. Grimshaw knew in his heart that Hannah was the one.
She was the lady who would love his children as her own, who would love him as her own. He had already opened his heart to her and let her in. Try as he might to shut her out, she had come in all the same.
Grimshaw still had that hesitation, however. That thought of his wife and his loyalty to her. Could he ever let himself love again and not betray his wife?
The words Hannah had spoken to him had made sense at the time. Now that he was in the moment and full of passion for this woman, he wasn’t so sure his late wife would condone such actions.
He let his hand drop and took a step back from Miss Jacobson. She looked confused and hurt for just a second. He supposed she had fully intended that kiss too.
It pained him to see her hurt and denied. It hurt more to put that distance between them when his body and mind was screaming otherwise.
“You came to tell me something,” Hannah finally said to break the tension between them.
“Yes, I did,” Grimshaw said solemnly.
He thought it over. He had come to tell her about his feelings. Now he wasn’t sure he could do that. The momentum was gone out of him.
“But I think there has been enough revelation for one night. I will leave it for another time,” Grimshaw said.
Hannah opened her mouth to protest, to encourage him to speak his mind. She could see there was no point to it, however.
“Thank you, though,” he said with a soft smile.
“For what?”
“Our talk today. It gave me a great deal to think over.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, too tempted not to do so. Grimshaw kissed it softly, and Hannah took an unconscious step forward bringing them closer together.
“Goodnight, Miss Jacobson,” he said softly.
She kept her eyes on his lips as they brushed the soft skin of her hand.
“I hope you sleep soundly. You are safe now,” he added. “I will verify he has removed himself from the property right now,” he reassured her. “You have nothing to fear at Brighton Abby any longer.”
“Thank you,” Hannah managed to squeeze out in a whisper. “Goodnight.”
He reluctantly released her hand and she made to re-enter her room. She paused at the door for just a moment and looked back at him.
Grimshaw watched her walk away from him. It was torture to see her go without making his feelings known to her.
He was rewarded however when she paused and glanced back at him. She smiled softly, letting those sweet dimples shine before slowly closing the door to her image.
Lord Grisham settled to traveling the length of the hall to his own room. Nothing seemed to have gone the way he hoped that night, but he still couldn’t be too disappointed with it.
“Grisham, what was that racket?” a genteel female voice called.
Grisham stopped in his tracks to find that just as he was passing Lady Tara’s room, she poked her head out.
“I thought I heard shouting.”
She stepped out into the hall in her dressing gown.
“Nothing to trouble yourself over, Lady Tara. Let’s just say I had a disgruntled employee but it’s all been taken care of now.”
Lady Tara looked down the hall towards the direction of the house he had come from. She mused she knew the only employee who would reside that way.
“I see,” she said in a satisfied knowing way.
Grimshaw considered correcting her, but he thought better of it. He had little care for what Lady Tara thought.
In the morning he would make it clear to her that he had no intention of marrying her. Grimshaw seriously doubted she would stay long after that.
He was sure of his feelings for Hannah Jacobson, but knew she would need some time to recover from her negative experience with Mr. Poole.
There was also still that pesky feeling of guilt over his late wife. Miss Jacobson had made a lot of sense to him. He couldn’t deny his feelings for her any longer either.
But he was sure he would need to find a way to come to terms with his feelings towards his late wife before he could actually see a future with anyone else.
In a very strange and backward way, David Poole’s interruption that night had been providential.
His feelings for Miss Jacobson were there, and were sure to stay. Even the distraction of other prospects in London didn’t seem to shake her loose from him.
However, until he was ready to let his Ann go, he would never be ready to accept another woman in.
***
Hannah Jacobson settled back into her room. She couldn’t shake the feeling of Sebastian Blackburn’s kiss on her hand.
She had found him so serious and somber when she first moved to Brighton Abby. Now she was starting to truly see him in a new light.
She considered when she had seen him working on his beloved west wing over the spring and summer. He had been breathtakingly handsome.
Hannah saw now that he was more than just a handsome, somber and brooding man. He had abounding love for his daughters.
So much so that he would do just about anything to
keep them from getting hurt again, no matter what that entailed.
Hannah smiled at the thought. He was so overly protective of them now. How would he behave when they became of age to attend seasons in town?
She snuggled down into her cover to keep off the chill. She hadn’t lit a fire that night in her room and the cold was finding its way through the stone walls of the house.
Hannah had to keep reminding herself that winters had the potential of being much more severe here than in London. She couldn’t even imagine what that would be like.
Luckily, she wouldn’t have to. Unlike her childhood in the preparatory school, she would be allotted warm fires and heated water to wash in.
This night she was much too exhausted to get up and start the fire. She pulled her covers closer to her. It was much cooler than she was used to lately but nothing she hadn’t experienced before.
She would rather stay in the warmth of her bed than get out. As she lay there, she replayed Grimshaw’s actions that night.
She was so sure that he would not believe her words. Now looking back she saw how ridiculous that was.
She was pretty sure her months of torment could have been resolved if she had just gotten up the courage to speak with the earl.
He may have seemed controlling but he was not without common sense. If she had appealed to him at the start, she could have saved herself a lot of pain and suffering.
She would have liked to be free of Poole sooner but she had to admit that with that suffering had also come some growth.
After Baron Edgley’s attack, she had felt completely hopeless and afraid. Some days she could scarcely leave her room for fear.
Poole had tried to exercise that power over her again, and for a while, he had succeeded. But Hannah realized her time at Brighton Abby had seen growth in her.
She was not the scared miss who hid behind caps and rough fabrics anymore. She no longer felt at fault for the cruel actions of others and would not hide away to shield herself from them.
Thanks to Grannie’s encouraging words, she had found her own strength and courage to stand up for herself, first to her attacker and also to Lord Grimshaw despite the fears that he might not believe her.
She rolled over in her bed to settle herself in for a peaceful night of sleep, something she hadn’t had in quite some time.
Her eyes caught the light through the window. It was much brighter than it should be for the night. Blinking against it, she knew the curiosity was too much to resist.
Rising from her bed and wrapping a blanket around her to stave off the cold, she walked over to the window and pushed back the curtain.
The light of the moon and stars seemed to reflect in a kaleidoscope of color. Falling quietly to the ground was a steady flow of flakes.
Hannah stood by her window watching her breath fog the pane as she studied the glittering shimmer reflecting off of each beautiful flake.
She was sure there was no better sign for a peaceful night of sleep than the quiet coating of snow.
Chapter 28
Hannah woke with a start to the sound of Mary knocking on her door.
“Hannah, are you up?” she called after she knocked for the third time.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah called sleepily. “Yes, come in.”
Mary opened the door and poked her head in.
“My goodness, are you still asleep? Oh, why is it so cold in here? Was the tinder box not filled for you?”
“It was,” Hannah said, getting out of bed and stretching. “I was just too tired to light it last night.”
Mary set down the basin of steaming water that seemed to steam all the more from the chill in the room.
She walked over to the fireplace and started it herself.
“You don’t have to do that, Mary,” Hannah said, still working to remove the sleep from her eyes.
She could not remember a time she had slept so soundly. She should have been upset that she slept in. In fact, if Hannah had her wits about her, she would be frantically getting ready so as not to be late getting the girls.
But as of yet she was not fully awake and found she was still in a blissful sleepy mood.
“You’ll catch your death if I don’t warm this room up,” Mary said as she lit the match.
“I don’t know how you slept at all in this chill, let alone slept in.”
“I suppose it felt kind of homey to me.”
“Homey?’ Mary asked, confused by her words.
“Yes, the only home I truly remember was Hendrick’s. There was rarely ever a fire in the dorms and even the ones in the classrooms and dining halls were so small we often joked that if you sat more than two people away from it your porridge would freeze.”
“That sounds awful,” Mary said, coming to stand and wiping any soot from her hands onto her apron.
“Perhaps, but when it’s really all you know…” Hannah said, shrugging the memory off.
“I’m not saying I lived like the queen myself growing up,” Mary responded. “It was me and my six siblings. We slept on a pelt bed next to the fire. I suppose I should feel blessed we were always warmed through the cold months.”
“Yes, I’m beginning to see how much your cold months here in Concordshire differ from London,” Hannah agreed.
“Oh!” Hannah started waking up to the memories of last night. “It was snowing!”
She hopped barefooted over to the window with the excitement of a child.
“Yes, still is too,” Mary replied, not looking herself.
“I suspect we will be in for quite a storm. It usually comes like this in big flurries then it will warm up and melt it off a bit, only to do it all over again.”
Hannah stared out the window in amazement. If she thought the beauty of the frost at Mrs. McCarthy’s was mesmerizing, it had little in comparison to the sight before her eyes now.
The whole world was blanketed in the white crystals she had watched flutter to the ground the night before. Still, the snow was falling, adding to the blanket.
Now instead of glistening in the light, they seemed to fall like white down feathers underneath a grey fluffy blanket of clouds.
“Oh, I wonder if I can take the girls out to play in it this afternoon?” Hannah said half to herself.
“Oh, I won’t expect it to stop for some time.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yes. It should go on like this for a day or two till we get a few feet on the ground.”
“How marvelous,” Hannah said excitedly.
“Not really. This is the wet kind. It’s heavy and soaks your clothes through. It’s no good for frolicking in. A little later in the year, perhaps after the Yuletide, we’ll get a good dry dusting and you can take the girls in that.”
“I had no idea there were different kinds of snow,” Hannah said with an appreciation for Mary’s wisdom.
“Don’t you get snow down in London?”
“Yes, but it was all covered in soot by the time I saw it. And I was never allowed to play in it as a child.”
“Never allowed? That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. Why I think my brother and I made our first toboggan when I was only seven.”
“What’s a toboggan?” Hannah asked in anticipation.
“My word,” Mary said. “And I younger than you.”
“Not by much though. I’m just twenty.”
“Still, I promise you this, by twenty and one you will know what a toboggan is,” Mary said with a giggle.
“I’ll have my brother Jimmy bring one up to us when the snow is good and dry for it. Oh, the girls will love that,” she exclaimed while clapping her hands together.
Mary came over to the window and looked out it for a moment. She had seen snow plenty enough but Hannah’s excitement was beginning to catch.
Hannah put an arm around the girl and hugged her close.
“I’m so glad to have you as my friend,” Hannah said.
It was the first time she had ever told a
person that. She had the distinct memory of one other friend, a girl at school. Ruby and Hannah had slowly kindled a friendship when the teachers weren’t looking, as any form of talking was considered idle.
How she wished she had told Ruby how much she cherished their little friendship before she left her behind at Hendrick’s.
