by Ava Devlin
She looked away, back to the box in her hands, feeling as though she had intruded on something preciously private, though she could not say she regretted having seen it.
"You returned very quickly from Scotland," Abigail was saying, her voice a little more breathless than usual in the presence of a great lord.
"Aye, it was hard going," he agreed. "The terrain is piled with ice and even without the road troubles it's colder outside than a witch's ..."
Heloise looked up, raising her eyebrows as her eyes met his.
He hesitated, plastering on an awkward smile, and finished his sentence with, "... heart."
"Indeed," Heloise agreed, stifling her desire to chuckle at his discomfort.
"Might Callum Laughlin stop in soon?" Abigail asked, startling Heloise so much that she almost lost her grip on the box. "I was hoping he might come in for a spot to eat so that I might speak to him."
She turned to look at her charge, whose eyes had grown wide and dreamy.
"It's only that I never thanked him for saving me," she explained, a blush spreading to her cheeks. "We were sweethearts when we were young, you know."
"Were you indeed?" Sheldon chuckled. "Then I'm sure your husband is none too pleased at Laughlin’s heroism recapturing your attentions."
"Oh," Abby whispered. "No, m’Lord."
A silence fell over the three of them as Abigail lowered her eyes and Sheldon looked from woman to woman in hapless confusion at what faux pas he had just made. Heloise wasn't about to humiliate her charge with the announcement that she was indeed unmarried, and instead pushed herself to her feet with a somewhat forced, but cheery countenance.
"I'm going to take this over to my new sister-in-law and have her add it to our list of medical supplies," she announced. "Abigail, might I bring you anything? Porridge?"
"No, m'Lady," she said softly. "I ate already and am well stuck into this story you lent me. Hopefully I'll finish it before the babe comes and I have no time for such things anymore."
"Well, then I will leave you to it," she said, gathering up the box, but leaving the tartan in case Abigail desired some extra warmth. "I will be back to check on you in a little bit."
Across the room, Gloriana was devising some new distraction for a gaggle of village children who seemed to flock to her the way moths are entranced by a flame in the dark. She became very animated when instructing them on some new task to distract them with, and then as soon as they were gone, she always flopped forward into her hands as though she needed to gather her strength again.
Heloise arrived at just this moment, lifting the box over her head as the village children hurried past her in a horde of giggles.
Gloriana peeked up through her fingers, her pale blue eyes catching the sunlight as she saw Heloise approach. "Do you recall," she asked, "that morning that you told me you were not experiencing schadenfreude at my expense?"
"Of course I do." Heloise grinned. "It was only a couple of months ago."
"I suspect that you are experiencing said phenomenon right now instead," Gloriana told her, then leaned back to stretch her arms over her head. "I do not know how I became the pied piper of children."
"It is because you're beautiful and you were wearing that lavish silver dress on the night of the fire. Children are simple creatures, easily enchanted." Heloise set the midwifery box on the desk Gloriana was seated before and laid a freckled hand upon it. "But, if it helps, I have brought a distraction—much-needed medical supplies to add to our stockpile."
"Medical supplies?" Gloriana repeated, furrowing her brow. "But Rose said not to expect them back for another week at least."
"This is a midwife's box," Hel explained, lifting the lid. "The woman who apprenticed me has sent it down from Moorvale to replace the one I lost in the fire. It is primarily filled with supplies for women's matters, but there is plenty in here that can assist the others, including ingredients for a soothing burn poultice."
Gloriana's pale, unblemished fingers passed over Hel's freckled ones, moving a few items around to get a look inside the box. "I've no idea what most of this is," she confessed, brushing against a parcel of herbs. "You will have to help me index it."
"Of course."
Gloriana looked up, catching her lip between her teeth. She seemed to weigh her desire to speak against her hesitation to do so, and then all at once blurted out, "I don't suppose we could go over it back at Somerton in a few hours?"
"Together?" Heloise asked, unable to hide the surprise in her voice.
Gloriana reached from the box over to Hel's hand, gripping it lightly in her own. "Please. I'm desperate to get out of this church for a bit. Besides, it will be easier and cleaner to spread out all the contents of your box back there."
"I do need to go back and check on the children," Heloise replied, mostly to amuse herself at the way Gloriana flinched at the idea of yet more children. "If you give me an hour or so, we might ride back together and take a light lunch. We ought to compare our ledgers anyhow."
Gloriana nodded, a strand of platinum hair escaping her bun and drifting down over her cheek. She did not seem to feel it and sighed a little gust of fatigue. "Perhaps we will have some tiny sandwiches?" she suggested hopefully. "Cucumber, perhaps? Cheese?"
"I will see that we have the tiniest of sandwiches," she assured her.
As she walked away from that particular encounter, Hel thought for the third time in one morning that fate must laugh merrily at the machinations of all the silly humans in her thrall.
14
To Heloise's genuine astonishment, Gloriana suggested they ride horseback to Somerton rather than take a carriage.
"Better a quick blast of cold than shambling along in it," she said. "Besides, I know you hate the carriage."
It was just as well. On horseback, bundled against the elements, they were not required to attempt small talk with one another. While their youthful rivalry had dissolved into little more than an embarrassing memory, they were not yet what one could call friends.
Alex loved Gloriana and Heloise loved her brother, which was enough to end her long-held dislike for the effortless beauty and grace embodied by the girl who never seemed to want for anything. In truth, it was a shock that Glory had been the one to insist on staying at Somerton rather than departing for her long-planned honeymoon abroad. She had allowed her wedding dress to be destroyed by all those little sooty handprints. She had worked herself through to the dawn on what should have been her wedding night.
Even without everything else, that would have earned Heloise's respect. The Gloriana she thought she'd known in her youth, during those stifled days at Mrs. Arlington's, would have thrown a tantrum at the prospect of her perfect wedding day and subsequent tour of Europe being interrupted, no matter by what.
It was only snowing in light flurries, but the speed of the horses meant that they caught enough snowflakes to crust them both in crystals by the time they reached the Somerton stables. Though her face was wrapped in a scarf, Heloise was grinning broadly beneath it. Rides like this one were always invigorating.
They dismounted, Glory handing her reins off to a wide-eyed Robbie, who was somewhere between that childhood enchantment that the village children had experienced and the dumbfounded attraction that grown men seemed to topple into when Gloriana was present. For once, it did not irk Heloise.
She shook her hair out, scratching Boudicea fondly between the eyes, and glanced at the stalls while Robbie saw to Glory's horse. That speckled black and white stallion she'd seen the night of the fire was there again, this time far less agitated, but clearly curious and alert, leaning against his stall to get a better look at them.
"Robbie, when did we acquire that stallion?" she asked, pointing. "He is very fine indeed, but I do not recall anyone mentioning him to me."
"That's because he's mine," answered Callum Laughlin, striding into the stables with the easy confidence of a man who once called them home. He flashed them a smile, his teeth bright and
eyes sparkling in the sunlight as he came closer. "His name is Caesar."
Heloise managed a little laugh, despite the way her stomach had lurched up into her chest at his appearance. "Of course it is," she said, handing Boudicea's reins to Robbie. "I ought to have known."
He looked down on her with knowing in his eyes, that smile lingering on his lips. He looked vibrant and energized, the way he always had when she'd interrupted him at his work. It made her heart thud rather obstinately against her chest.
"Will you join us for lunch, Lieutenant?" Gloriana asked, clearly ready to head indoors and make use of the fire. "We are going to check in on the children and compare our numbers for the township. I imagine you might have some useful input."
Reluctantly, Callum tore his dark eyes from Heloise. When he looked at Glory, he did not freeze or gawk or leer. He looked upon her as if she were any woman with whom he had polite but disinterested acquaintance. From his expression and unconcerned posture, she might have been a grandmother with a bent back and rheumy eyes rather than the toast of London. Could it truly be that he was unaffected by her beauty?
"Unfortunately, I am only here to change out the cookware at my mother's behest," he said with a friendly nod. "But I very much appreciate the invitation. Which children do you speak of? I'm afraid I have not had the pleasure of meeting any within the manor. Does Viscount Somers already have an heir or two?"
"He has been four years married," Heloise reminded him, aware that her voice suddenly sounded somewhat choked. It was no accident that he had not seen hide nor hair of the children within the estate. She busied herself removing her gloves to avoid meeting his eye, lest she give herself away. "Gideon's son is named Reginald, after Glory's father. Our viscountess is very fond of her uncle and insisted on the tribute. We call him Reggie."
"The other is a relation from the Americas," Glory added, hugging her elbows against the cold. "A little girl who was sadly orphaned and now is ward to the Somers family. She is very dear."
Callum shook his head in wonder. "Much has changed in my absence."
"We must catch you up someday soon," Glory said with a tight smile. "But I'm afraid Lady Heloise and I must needs head inside before we turn to ice."
"I was hoping to steal a moment of Lady Heloise's time," he said apologetically. "It will only take a few minutes, but it is rather urgent."
"Here," Hel said, holding out the box. "Go inside and get warm. Order up those sandwiches, and I will join you shortly."
Gloriana approached, taking the box from Heloise, her eyes keen and questioning, as though to make sure Heloise truly wished to be left alone in the stables with the handsome lieutenant. Hel gave a little nod and what she hoped was an encouraging quirk of the lips in response.
"Thank you," Glory said, suddenly airy and careless. "I am just hopeless in the cold! Until we next meet, Lieutenant."
"My pleasure, Lady Somers."
Glory flushed in pleasure at her new title and spun away, making a quick exit from the stables and leaving Hel and Callum in a sudden vacuum of quiet, with only the sound of Robbie brushing the horses interrupting the silence.
When she was certain Glory had gone, and was definitely within the manor house, she grabbed Callum's arm and marched him across the stables and beneath the loft, into a corner where they would not be overheard by the enthusiastic stable boy. He came along easily, seemingly pleased to be touched by her in any context whatsoever.
She took a bracing breath, turning her head up to meet his eyes in a shadowy alcove framed with horseshoes. "I owe you an apology," she said softly.
He laughed, a sudden burst of amusement that had Heloise shushing him with a paranoid look around for eavesdroppers. "I'm sorry," he chuckled, lowering his voice. "But you most certainly do not."
"Callum!" she hissed, giving him a light shove. "Be serious, please."
"I am serious," he said, that chuckle still on his breath as he gripped the hand she'd placed against his chest. "I know it was a fraught moment and that neither of us were thinking clearly, but I could no more regret touching you again than I could regret drawing breath. I hope you do not begrudge me that."
She watched him, wary as a doe, but did not snatch her hand away. He was holding it against his heart, which she could feel through the layers of winter clothing as though it were tuned like an orchestra in tandem with her own.
"I am the one who owes you an apology," he continued, his voice deeper. He took a step closer to her, their breath mingling against the cold air. "I realize now how thoughtless I was and what I must do to make it right."
"What must you do?" she breathed, wishing she could control the way her skin erupted in a thousand dancing flames which burned hotter the closer he got.
He rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand. Such a small motion that sent a molten rush through her very core. "I have never taken the time to woo you, as you deserve," he told her. "I have been presumptuous and inconsiderate and did not know how lucky I was that you took the reins all those years ago."
"Did I?" she said, biting her lip. "I seem to recall you initiating our kiss in the stables."
"The first one was you," he reminded her. "Some three years prior, after you broke my arm. I only wished to improve upon it."
"I didn't break your arm!" she tutted, giving another little shove with her captive hand and making him grin broadly. "You entered every caper willingly, sir."
"And I'd do so again," he told her, lowering his forehead to meet hers. "In an instant."
She let her eyes flutter shut, knowing she should flee, that she shouldn't let this happen as it was. How could she, when it felt so very, very good having him near again? How could she when all she wanted to do was collapse into his arms and beg him to carry her to his bed?
"Heloise," he whispered. "I want to deserve you."
Damn him.
She wrapped her free arm around his neck, pulling him tight against her body as she pressed her lips into his. He kissed her softly, sweetly. It was nothing of the urgent, hungry way they had kissed before. Even during that enchanted summer she could not recall him being so gentle with her.
He was the one who pulled back, releasing her hand in favor of stroking the side of her face. "You are so beautiful." He sighed. "I have to force myself not to watch you at every moment in that church. It has been a torment to be able to see you and not touch you."
"Callum ..." she murmured helplessly.
"Shh," he said, kissing her on either cheek. "We will talk later. Go warm yourself, have your meal. Huddling you into a dank corner of a wooden stable is not how I intend to court you."
"Court me?" she echoed, her voice small and befuddled.
He smoothed her cloak for her and stepped away with a gentlemanly bow. "I will take my leave, Lady Heloise."
She opened her mouth but no response came out. She found herself quite stuck in her position for a length of time she would never be certain of before she shook herself and headed indoors.
She found Gloriana in the drawing room, curled on the couch with Nero on one side and Callie on the other, both asleep. A platter of half-eaten finger foods was atop the table before them next to a neatly arranged emptying of Meggie's box.
Little Reggie had taken himself to the windowed corner of the room, where he appeared to be attempting to chew the head off a very expensive-looking wooden horse. Everyone seemed quite unconcerned with one another until Heloise interrupted their peace.
Gloriana looked up, her fingers still stroking Callie's ringlets. "That was more than a brief moment," she said. "I have unpacked the box, and am currently guarding it from our resident imp."
Callie yawned, her big black eyes blinking open, and smiled up at her mother. "Auntie Hel."
"Caroline," Heloise replied, unable to resist reaching forward to stroke her cheek. "Did you have a pleasant nap?"
"No nap!" Reggie cried from his perch, which startled the cat awake as well. He slammed the very slobbery horse onto the floor a
nd reiterated, "Hate naps!"
Nero leapt off the couch and darted off to find silence elsewhere, his indignation apparent.
"May I play with Reggie?" Callie asked, seemingly unperturbed by the outburst from her rambunctious cousin.
"Of course you may," Glory cooed. "But perhaps choose a different toy for yourself, all right? That little horse looks rather worse for the wear."
Callie nodded obediently and slid off the couch, smoothing her hands down her little skirt as she trotted off to join her cousin.
Both women watched her go, amazed at how well the two took to one another, despite their opposing personalities. Heloise stepped forward to settle next to Gloriana on the couch and reached forward to retrieve one of the little sandwiches from the platter.
"He is Callie's father, isn't he? The lieutenant."
Hel froze, the sandwich midway to her mouth, her eyes snapping over to her nemesis turned sister-in-law. "What did you say?"
Glory giggled, shaking her head. "He is very handsome, Heloise. If I weren't hopelessly in love with Alex, I might find myself rather jealous."
"Of me?" Hel choked, giving up and dropping the sandwich into her lap.
"Mm, the way he watches you ... like you're a goddess." She flashed a little smile, conspiratorial and knowing. "It must be intoxicating."
"I don't know where you got the impression that Caroline is—"
Gloriana held her hand up, waving away the protestation as though it were an irritating gnat. "I wish I could say it was a great deal of cleverness and detective work on my part," she confessed, "but his initials match the inscription in the book, and the child has your chin and his eyes. And you fled Mrs. Arlington's so suddenly and all on your own. It doesn't take a genius to put it all together, which is well, because I am not one."
"You mustn't tell Alex," Heloise whispered. "I never revealed who the father was."
"But he knows the child is yours?" she said with a tilt of her head. "How curious. He would never have told me, I think."
