Stephen let out another long breath, opening his eyes to look down at the white face of his son. Reaching out, he grasped John’s hand, feeling it cold and still in his own. “Then he will recover.”
“Most certainly,” the older man said, calmly. “He will need to rest at home for a week or so and that arm will need to be set, for I fear it is broken.”
“And can you do that?” Stephen looked up suddenly into the man’s face, seeing the kindness glinting in his eyes. “Might you come to the estate? I will pay you handsomely for the trouble.”
The older man smiled. “You will pay me what is due and nothing more,” he stated, calmly. “Yes, I would be glad to attend your son at the estate.” He reached out one hand. “Doctor Thorngood, Your Grace.”
Stephen grasped it firmly. “Thank you.”
“Might I ask what happened?” Miss Edgington asked, as Stephen reached out to gather his son in his arms, careful not to shift his arm in any way as it lay across John’s chest. “How did he come to fall so hard?”
Getting to his feet carefully, Stephen held John close, wishing that his son would open his eyes and say something to him so that he might be assured that he was going to be well. How much he regretted the long weeks he had spent in solitude, pushing his children away! They were so dear to him, he realized, so very dear that he felt his heart overflow with love for them. What he would have done should one of them have been taken from his earth, he did not know.
“The boy was coming from the shop here,” the doctor said, indicating the shop that sold a little bit of everything. “I was just coming from the bookshop, as I said, and saw the boy step out into the road without so much as glancing up. He had something in his hand that had captured his attention and, given that he did not look, a horse and trap ran directly into him.” The doctor grimaced. “Although I fear the man responsible did not stop.”
Stephen felt no anger over such a thing, only relieved that his son was safe in his arms now. “What was it he held?” he asked, looking down into John’s face and seeing the dirty marks there. “What had he taken from the shop?”
A small cough came from behind Stephen and he half turned to see another man standing just behind him.
“If I might be so bold, my lord – I mean, Your Grace, your boy came to buy a small soldier,” he said, indicating that he was the shopkeeper. “One with a cannon. Said he’d been finding all his pennies that he’d had all about him. Wanted to take it back for you, I believe.”
Stephen suddenly felt weak, as though his legs might collapse beneath him. John had not been stealing then, as he had thought. Instead, he had been doing his very best to buy the one soldier and cannon that Stephen had told him about, so that he might please his father.
“Here,” the shopkeeper said, forcing Stephen to open his eyes and look at what was being held out to him. “Here’s another. The poor lad.” He sighed and shook his head, leaving Miss Edgington to take what was being held out to Stephen. It was, he saw, a small tin soldier with an even smaller tin cannon, but it was precisely as he had described it to John.
“He must have wanted it to be a surprise for you,” Miss Edgington said, softly, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Carrington. Whatever are we to do?”
The way she said his name with such intimacy and tenderness told him more than she would ever be able to say with words. The love in her heart for his son was overflowing, pouring itself over both himself and the child in his arms. He could never take her away from this. He could never allow his children to be separated from this. Miss Edgington was the most wonderful creature of his acquaintance and his children loved her dearly.
“John shall be quite all right,” he assured her, seeing the doctor nod as though to confirm such a statement. “Come now, Miss Edgington, we must return home and have John put to bed. You can, of course, nurse him back to full health.” He managed a small smile, which was only interrupted by a small stir from John.
“John?” Miss Edgington was beside him in a moment, her hands smoothing back his hair as his eyes flickered open. “Oh, John! You are awake.”
A groan escaped from the boy’s mouth, his brow furrowing with pain. “My soldier.” He focused his eyes on Stephen. “I wanted to buy one for you, father.”
“I have it,” he promised, wishing he could clutch his boy tighter but knowing that he could not for fear that he would hurt his arm further. “You are most generous, John.” He did not want to berate him now, did not want to tell him that he ought not to have run from the house without warning, even if the gift was meant to be a surprise. It had been a simple mistake that had brought with it severe consequences, and that would be more than enough for John to bear. “Rest now, my son. We will have you home very soon and the doctor will see you there.”
John’s eyes flickered close but his furrowed brow remained. “My arm is sore,” he whispered, resting his head a little more onto Stephen’s chest. “It aches terribly.”
Miss Edgington looked up at Stephen, a single tear splashing down onto her cheek. “We shall have you at ease soon, my dear boy,” she murmured, stepping back so that Stephen could begin to walk to the carriage. “How glad I am that we have found you again.”
“And I have little intention of letting you out of my sight again for some time,” Stephen added, seeing how the boy’s face began to relax once more, perhaps fallen into unconsciousness or into the blessing of sleep. “Although I do look forward to playing toy soldiers with you again soon.”
* * *
“You have always been correct, Miss Edgington.”
Now back in the carriage, being lulled by the gentle motion of the carriage and with John lying on the seat beside Miss Edgington, his head in her lap, Stephen allowed himself a moment of complete honesty.
“I do not know what you mean, Your Grace,” she stammered, her face still white and drawn with the strain of what had occurred.
He let him smile softly at her, more than relieved that he had his son restored to him, even if it was with a broken arm and a painful head. “From the start, you told me that my children needed my presence and that I was doing both them and myself a disservice by remaining so far from them. You were correct in that, Miss Edgington, even though I took a great length of time to admit such a thing to myself.”
She swallowed hard and he saw that, yet again, she was battling tears. “They are a wonderful gift, Your Grace.”
“Carrington,” he corrected, swiftly. “We are friends, are we not, Miss Edgington?” Seeing her nod, he smiled at her, aware of how she rested one hand gently on John’s chest in a protective gesture. “You have become dear to my children and dear to me, Miss Edgington. I must ask you then to call me ‘Carrington’ when we are in private company, as is fitting for two friends.”
Miss Edgington blinked rapidly, her cheeks now blooming with color. “I am nothing but a governess, Your Grace,” she whispered, brokenly. “It is not proper for me to do so.”
“I do not think of you as ‘merely’ a governess,” he replied, with a firmness in his voice that brooked no argument. “Your character is one that behooves you daily, Miss Edgington. It is my joy and my delight to call you my friend.”
She smiled at him then, another tear falling from her eyes, but she dashed it away quickly. “Then it shall be as you say, Carrington,” she murmured, appearing a little abashed. “I thank you.”
Sitting back in his seat and feeling his anxiety settle down once more as he gazed at his son and at Miss Edgington, Stephen felt his heart begin to fill once more with that sense of overwhelming affection for Miss Edgington. The very one that he could not seem to dampen. With every minute that he spent in her company, he felt his heart and mind grow all the more fond of her. He longed to see her smile, to hear her laugh and to enjoy her conversation. When she had placed her hand in his, when she had taken his arm, his body had jolted with awareness despite the difficult and urgent situation. And it was only now, some time later, that he was able to reflect
upon it. What was it he wanted from Miss Edgington? Did he want her to remain as governess, to call her his friend and intimate acquaintance but never to pursue anything further? Or did he wish for something more? Something that might bring both himself and his children more happiness than ever before?
Swallowing hard, Stephen looked out of the carriage window and saw his estate come into view. Relieved, he looked back at John and saw that the boy was still asleep, his face holding a little more color than before. The doctor would be following close behind and Stephen was quite certain that with good care and with rest and comfort, John would soon be restored to himself. How sweet the boy had been to try and purchase a toy soldier and cannon, just as Stephen had described! It had been a generous gesture, and one that told Stephen just how much John wanted to please him, how much the child wanted Stephen to remain a part of his life.
“He need have no fear,” he murmured to himself, unaware of how Miss Edgington’s eyes lingered on him, her expression soft. “I shall never remove myself from his life again. Never.”
With this vowed, he suddenly became aware of Miss Edgington’s gaze and, a little embarrassed, he let his eyes fix upon hers.
“And your son knows you can be trusted, Carrington,” Miss Edgington replied, sending a wave of warmth through him with her encouraging words. “You have restored what was once broken and found your path after being lost. I know you will not stray from it again.”
“No,” he agreed, wondering silently if his path would lead him towards Miss Edgington and towards a permanence with her that he had never even permitted himself to dream of. “This family will continue on in happiness and gladness, setting aside the darkness of the past. Just so long as you remain a part of it, Miss Edgington, then I am certain we shall all be as content as can be.”
* * *
“John?”
Stephen rose to his feet as the doctor came out from the boy’s room. He went quickly towards the doctor.
“He is as I expected,” the doctor replied, reassuringly. “His arm is broken, I fear, but it has been set and splinted. It is just as well that he was unconscious when I did so, for I fear the pain would have been great otherwise.” He shook his head, a slight grimace in his expression. “I wish that I saw the man who was responsible for such a thing, Your Grace. To have hurried away after creating such an accident is utterly reckless.”
“I agree with you, kind sir. And yet, I will not allow it to concern me,” Stephen replied, firmly. “Thank you, doctor, for what you have done. What needs to be done now?”
The doctor cleared his throat, his eyes sharp as he looked back at Stephen. “Rest,” he said, firmly. “That boy needs to remain abed for at least three days until he no longer has a pain in his head. His arm will be sore for some time, I am afraid, but it must be kept straight and he must not move it about or attempt to use it in any way, in case it should make things worse.” He lifted one shoulder. “I have left something for the pain but I would not advise using it very often as it can leave children quite stupefied for some time after – but there is nothing else I can give him.”
Stephen nodded slowly, knowing all too well the effects of laudanum. “I shall be careful.”
“And I shall gladly return to ensure that your son continues to improve,” the doctor continued, handing Stephen a card. “I am residing in the town with the intention of starting up a small practice.”
“I should be glad of it,” Stephen said at once, taking the card and holding it tightly as though he might lose it. “And I will pay whatever fee you wish for.”
The doctor chuckled. “I shall not demand too much, Your Grace,” he promised, with a small smile. “Now, unless there is anything else, I shall return to the town and return in a couple of days to check on your son.”
Stephen nodded, settling one hand on the man’s shoulder for a moment. “You have my most grateful thanks,” he said, feeling a lump beginning to form in his throat. “When your practice is near completion, I should be glad to endorse it to the townsfolk. You have done a great deal for my son and I am truly appreciative.”
“I thank you,” the doctor replied, as Stephen stepped back. “Do excuse me.”
Stephen nodded and waited until the doctor had walked the length of the hallway towards the door before hurrying into John’s bedchamber. The boy looked so small propped up against the pillows, a blanket pulled up to his shoulders. A maid was busy stoking the fire and a footman was standing nearby as though to guard the lad.
“He has only just woken, Your Grace,” the footman murmured, as Stephen drew near to sit on the edge of the bed. “Although he may have fallen asleep again.”
Stephen nodded wordlessly, his heart aching with love for his son. He settled one hand on the boy’s shoulder, fearing to find his hand under the blankets in case he might pain John’s arm accidentally. To his surprise, John’s eyes flickered open and he looked up into Stephen’s face.
“Father,” he whispered, his voice weak and tired. “I am sorry.”
“You need not worry about all that,” Stephen replied, firmly, pressing John’s shoulder lightly. “I am glad that you are safe and that you will soon recover, that is all.” He smiled reassuringly into John’s small face, seeing the relief etch itself into the boy’s features. “You must rest and have everyone waiting on you hand and foot for a few days. Does that not sound quite marvelous?”
A small smile crept across John’s expression. “It does, father,” he replied, his eyes closing again. “But I am very tired now.”
“Then sleep,” Stephen replied, quickly. “Miss Edgington will come to you soon with some broth, I believe, and you will need to take as much of it as you can.” Just as he said this, the door opened behind him and Miss Edgington walked quietly into the room, holding a small tray. With an effort, John opened his eyes again and looked at her.
“Miss Edgington,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You are here.”
“Of course I am,” Miss Edgington replied, smiling at John and then looking towards Stephen. “I have broth for you, but if you are tired….”
“I can have some,” John replied, apparently attempting to keep his eyes open so that he would not drift back to sleep. “I am a little hungry.”
Stephen got to his feet, seeing how Miss Edgington brushed the hair from John’s forehead. He was feeling such a strange, desperate longing grow within him that he knew precisely where he had to go and what he had to do. Miss Edgington looked at him in surprise, and with an effort, Stephen gave her a quick smile.
“I will leave him to rest,” he said, patting John’s shoulder. “Might I speak to you thereafter, Miss Edgington?”
“But, of course,” she agreed, throwing him a quick glance before returning her attention to John.
“Perhaps a short stroll in the gardens, whilst John rests,” he suggested, filled with a sudden, forceful hope. “I will wait for you by the front steps.”
Miss Edgington looked up at him again, but this time she held his gaze for a few moments. The gentlest of smiles appeared on her face, as though she knew, somehow, what he intended to speak to her about. “Certainly, Your Grace,” came the sweet reply. “Once John is resting, I shall join you directly.”
* * *
It did not take Stephen long to make his way to the place he knew he must go. The grave marker for Martha was still free of dirt and weeds, with the gardeners obviously taking careful consideration for such a thing as this. Stephen swallowed hard as he approached it, feeling both foolish and wise in equal measures. He knew now what was in his heart. It could not be denied, not even to himself. As much as he had tried to push Miss Edgington from him, from the very first moment they had met, she had managed to remain in his thoughts and now lingered in his affections. There was another chance for happiness for him, another chance for him to find contentment, joy and peace. All he had to do was allow himself to reach forward and grasp at it with both hands.
“Martha.” He said her name aloud, looki
ng down at the grave marker and allowing his mind to go over all the wonderful moments he had shared with her. He had loved her dearly. She had brought two wonderful children into this world, and even when she had been taken from him, her presence lingered on. His heart still held her tightly but he did not feel the same desperation, the same broken-hearted longing, that had once filled him.
“Our son was injured today,” he said, as though she were there before him, listening to his every word. “I have brought him back to the house and he will be himself again very soon, but I would not have felt such a love for him, such a terrible fright over his whereabouts, had it not been for Miss Edgington.” A vision of her standing before him caught his mind, making him smile. “Miss Edgington had pushed me to leave my struggles behind, to set my face to the future instead of turning my head to look at the past. I have done as she has asked and, in doing so, I have found a new freedom, Martha. I have rejected the darkness and the cloying gloom, knowing now that I need to be present and loving towards my children – to our children. You will always be with us, Martha, even though I have turned towards another. My heart is still filled with a love for you but, along with it, comes a fresh, new affection for Miss Edgington. She has become dear to me, Martha. I believe that, in some way, I hold both a love for you and a love for her within my heart. I shall never forget you. I shall never allow our children to forget you, but I will seek a new future with her by my side.” His voice became thready, his eyes burning as he looked down at the grave marker again. “It is time for me to begin my life again with another. I shall always love you. But I love Miss Edgington also.”
A long breath emitted from his frame as he lowered his head, allowing silence to fall all around him. A sense of peace crept over him as he pressed one hand to the marker, feeling the roughness of the stone beneath. It was time to allow his future to take hold. He had the opportunity to share his life with a lady who was both loving, kind and tender in every way. The lady who had shown him what he needed to do in order to pull himself from the shadows and emerge into the light. Miss Edgington had become his everything and Stephen knew that he needed her by his side.
A New Home for the Duke: A Regency Romance: The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square (Book 4) Page 14
