Caroline brushed off her dress. The heat of the day waned and shadows grew long across the yard. She knew Jacob would be rising soon, and she needed to consider how to tell him about the doctor.
Alexander wondered how to bring up what he wanted to say. Nerves in his stomach unraveled now that he was alone in front of her.
He felt a flush creep up his neck.
She smiled teasingly, which confused him more. “Why are you so quiet?”
Her smile spread warmth spread through his chest.
I don’t deserve this. Whatever this feeling is.
Alexander stopped himself. Caroline was not Eugenie. Nor was he the man he used to be.
He remembered Adam, the injured boy, and how despite everything—a terrible accident and serious injury—he was still a curious boy. The accident didn’t change who he was at his core. Likewise, what happened to him didn’t have to define him. It changed him, of course, buffed away spots, maybe even caused some parts to break off, but he was still himself.
He steadied himself and inhaled.
“I didn’t just come here for your brother…”
Caroline looked at him as she collected the used plates from the blanket. “Oh?”
“I have something important to ask you,” he said.
She continued picking up the used plates and glasses from lunch.
Dammit, he was going to ask her for her hand, and she was collecting dirty dishes.
He walked over to her and gently took the plates from her hands until Anne came out to take them. She brushed her windblown hair from her face.
Caroline finally stopped moving.
“I inherited a title and a manor house, but I am not a very rich man. I cannot promise you great riches, but I cannot think of another person I would want alongside me as I restore my ancestral seat. It won’t be easy, but you obviously aren’t immune to hard work…”
She frowned when he said, “hard work.”
“You want me because I’m a hard worker?” she asked.
“No. Well, not entirely…”
Caroline cocked a slender eyebrow upward and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m flattered you think so highly of my work ethic, but I don’t wish to be a simply partner in work.”
He nodded quickly. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” She looked at him intently as Louie plopped down at her feet again.
He swallowed. “I do not excel at expressing my emotions.”
Her lips turned up playfully as she petted Louie. “Really? You don’t say.”
“Yes, ha-ha,” he said joylessly. “Make sport of the emotionally-stunted aristocrat. We are such a rare species.”
She smiled again. “I wouldn’t say you’re stunted. Your range is… evolving.”
He smoothed his hair back. How did she manage to both see him and poke fun at him in the same moment?
“I have fought my attraction and attachment since we met. For many reasons, you were not supposed to be a woman I considered, let alone pursued.”
“You don’t have to put it that way,” she said.
“Please, let me speak. I was married to a woman with whom I could not communicate, and we quickly became irrevocably damaged. I am terrified of finding myself—or putting anyone else—in that position again. And when I think of it, you are the only person who makes me want to try.” He paused and dropped his head. “Nay.” He shook his head.
“Pardon?”
“I’m not being truthful. It is not that I want to try again. That is an understatement. We both have been experienced hardship. I used to wonder why. But now I think, perhaps, there is a design at work in my life that prepared me for meeting you.”
She stepped in front of him, looking at him with a small smile on her lips. “You are not very good at this.”
“No, I’m bloody well not,” he said back.
“Ask me,” she said.
“What?”
“Whatever you were going to say to me.” Her eyes blazed.
“Just that I’ve wanted you since I met you.”
Caroline’s eyes widened, and she smiled more. “Is that all?”
“I wanted you to know that I was afraid if I married again, it would be like it was with Eugenie. That you’d get tired of me. Now I don’t even care if you do. I would consider myself lucky if that happened. I wanted you to know that I think you’re the bravest, most desirable woman I’ve ever met…”He paused. “And I’m in love with you.”
Caroline giggled. Which turned to a full throated laugh. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stop. But still, she laughed.
He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he stepped closer to her.
“Does that mean you’ll have me?”
She looked up at him, still smiling.
“I will happily take you, my lord,” she said.
“Are you certain?”
She moved closer to him, her lips brushed against his.
His heart beat, this time with hope.
“Can you let me prove it to you?”
He smiled back at her, pleased she finally was in his arms.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me.” He paused. “Unless you really want to.”
She laughed again and pressed her lips against his.
The End
Epilogue
Two days later, Alexander was splitting wood outside the cottage when another carriage turned down the drive. Since their engagement, he stayed at an inn and came by daily to help around the house as well as talk with Jacob. Caroline heard the carriage and stuck her head out the door.
“Ah, this must be the Prince Regent coming to visit,” she said as the carriage rode down the winding driveway toward them. Caroline saw in her fiancé’s sweaty, shirtless chest as he lifted an ax. “Oh, I didn’t realize what I was missing out here.”
“Is it Dr. Douglas again?” Alexander asked. The doctor had come by now each day to talk to Jacob, who was gradually opening up to him. Alexander peered in the distance and shook his head. “I don’t think it’s the doctor.”
She reluctantly turned away from his pleasing form. “Please don’t let him be a debt collector,” Caroline said softly.
Alexander looked at her pointedly. “Do you get many?” He pulled his shirt over his head.
“It’s too early for the rent, but still, you never know what bills Jacob may incur,” she said and steeled herself for a confrontation.
The carriage’s passenger had light-colored hair and looked too genteel to be a debt collector. His coat was nice. Very nice. Plush and stately.
“Good day,” he tipped his hand to his hat. “I’m looking for Miss Caroline Holland.”
“I am she.”
“I am Mr. O’Connor, solicitor for Coleman and Parnell, London.”
Caroline wordlessly shook his hand.
“I am here on behalf of the probate estate for Mrs. Elizabeth Catherine Madeline Van Ness Ruffalo, nee Benedict.”
Caroline blinked. “I’m sorry. Who?”
The cottage door opened and Anne came out again.
“Mrs. Elizabeth Catherine Madeline Van Ness Ruffalo. Maiden name: Benedict,” he repeated.
To Caroline, the name sounded like a nursery rhyme.
“I don’t know any—did you say Ruffalo?” she asked.
The man nodded.
“I am executing the estate of Mrs. Elizabeth Ruffalo. I believe you knew her?”
Caroline opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. She nodded.
“Mrs. Ruffalo passed a few weeks ago in Scotland, unfortunately. I’m sorry to inform you.” He looked very serious, as though he was worried about her reaction. He took his hat off and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
Caroline put a hand over her mouth. Anne stood next to her and grabbed her hand.
“What’s happened?”
“A woman I knew at Howsham passed,” Caroline said through her hand.
“How d
id she-?” Alexander asked.
The solicitor looked solemn and squeezed his hat. “She had a heart condition,” he said.
“Oh,” Caroline said.
“...And she was at a race in Dumfries where her horse won.”
Caroline paused.
“She was at a racetrack when she died? Betting?” Alexander said.
“Winning,” the solicitor said gently.
A laugh broke from Alexander’s chest. Caroline agreed it was somehow a fitting end.
Anne’s eyes widened. “She’s left Miss Holland something?”
The solicitor nodded.
“Probably a pistol,” Alexander said, and Caroline gave him a look.
The solicitor produced an envelope from his pocket and opened it.
“Miss Holland,” he read, “for her devotion to Mrs. Ruffalo at the end of her life and helping her achieve her dream of traveling back to Dumfries shall receive,” he cleared his throat. “The sum of twenty-two thousand pounds, and…”
Anne yelped and grasped Caroline so hard she nearly fell.
She managed to right herself.
“Two thousand pounds,” Caroline said. “I can scarcely believe it!”
Anne grasped Caroline’s face in her hands.
“Nay, lass, twenty-two thousand pounds,” Anne said to her slowly.
Caroline tried to swallow but couldn’t. She’d forgotten how.
She was sure heard wrong.
She looked at the solicitor and he nodded. Suddenly, her legs felt weak under her and she sat down. Now her dress was ruined.
She tried to rise up but couldn’t seem to get her legs underneath her. Alexander took her arm to help her.
Hot tears slid down her face. She finally took the solicitor’s handkerchief.
“Didn’t she have family?” Caroline asked, wiping her eyes.
“Unfortunately, no. And her instructions were very specific.”
“Caroline, you’re an heiress!” Anne shrieked.
“I’m not sure I can breathe,” Caroline said.
“There is one other condition,” the solicitor added. “You’re to take ownership of Mr. Charles.”
“Mr. Charles?” Anne asked.
Mr. O’Connor strode back to the carriage, opened the door, lifted the pug from the carriage seat, and brought him to Caroline. Louie immediately ran over to sniff him.
“Mr. Charles!” She said, laughing and crying at the same moment.
The solicitor put his hat on his head.
Caroline set him on the ground and he circled twice, curled up, and almost immediately fell asleep, drooling on the ground.
Bloody hell, Caroline inherited twenty thousand pounds from Mrs. Ruffalo. Alexander shook his head in disbelief and stupidly stared at the solicitor’s carriage as it went back down the drive. He’d no idea the old lady had been worth so much.
How he could possibly compete with that?
He couldn’t, he realized. Nothing competes with the statement, “you’ve inherited twenty thousand pounds.” He sat and patted sleeping Mr. Charles. He had just had this thunder stolen by Mrs. Ruffalo again.
Caroline had tears streaming down her face as she hugged Anne.
Christ, now what could he say? Now that you’re independently wealthy, do you still want to tether yourself to a Yorkshire money pit and a cash poor earl?
He idly pulled up a couple of blades of grass as Louie flopped down on his other side.
Caroline wiped away tears from her cheeks again. She looked at him sitting on the ground with the two dogs. He didn’t mean to look like a spoilsport, but perhaps the love of his life no longer needed him.
Caroline finally collapsed on the ground near him.
“I’m sorry. I’m unmoored by this news.” She beamed and fanned her face.
He nodded. He knew she deserved it more than anyone else. But would she still have him?
“I can pay rent!” she exclaimed. “In advance!”
“You’ll be able to do more than that. Once word gets out, you’ll be the toast of London society.”
She inhaled deeply and lay back on the grass, finally taking in the news.
She was quiet for a moment.
“I don’t want to be the toast of London. I want to live quietly with you, and Louie, Jezebel, and now Mr. Charles,” she said and looked at him. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you looking at me?”
He stood up and took a few steps. Louie moved with him. Behind him, he could hear Mr. Charles wheezing to keep up.
“Christ, I can’t even storm away because it’ll cause Mr. Charles to have a heart attack.”
“What are you storming away from?” Caroline sat up, confused. “Wait, are you jealous?”
Alexander kicked a weed with his boot. “No, I’m very happy for your new financial status. But I imagine you’ll need to rethink things now that you’re an independently wealthy woman.”
Caroline smiled, stood up and circled her hands around Alexander’s waist.
Her embrace melted his frostiness, although he tried to move away.
“Careful, I’m sweating.”
“I don’t mind. As a matter of fact, it’s rather appealing,” Caroline said.
Anne rolled her eyes at their affection and went back in the house, calling, “Jacob, do not come outside. Your sister’s fiancé is kissing her again.”
“So you’ll still have me?” Alexander asked, looking down at his wife’s lovely face. “Despite my relative poverty?”
“I will,” she said. “But I will likely buy some new dresses too. Maybe a new leash for Jezebel.” She shrugged and smiled. “Perhaps a new foundation for your ancestral home?”
Alexander smiled at Caroline and kissed her softly. “Anything my love’s heart desires.”
“It’s all right here,” she placed her hand on his chest.
He realized he didn’t doubt her.
About the Author
Grace Sellers is a writer, college instructor, lifelong animal lover, and pop culture geek living in Chicago. She is thrilled to have found a use for her love of period movies, history, and literature that doesn't involve lying on the couch and eating ice cream (not that there's anything wrong with that).
She has student loans (and degrees) from University of Wisconsin-Madison. You can see pictures of her past and present pets on her Facebook page. A good portion of any income she earns will inevitably go to rescue animals. Please do not bring her any needy dogs, cats or horses.
Also by Grace Sellers
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Lord to Love Again: A Sweet and Clean Regency Romance Page 24
