Fire Dragon's Angel
Page 31
“You’re not dreaming,” Sir Geoffrey said.
“But how did you find Father? Did you get my letter?”
“I have been far too busy rescuing old friends, tracking down my obstinate son and wayward goddaughter, and seeing a man with murderous intent brought to justice to read any letter I may have received.” By now, a small gathering had assembled in the hall—Mrs. Arston, Libby, Mariette, and Bengie. But no Latimer, which seemed odd. Ceressa asked the housekeeper and Mariette to make ready the guestrooms then asked Libby to see if Cassie would mind fixing a quick supper for the new arrivals.
“She’s already at work.” A wide smile lighted Libby’s face. “I’m going to the kitchen to help now. We’ll have a feast ready in no time.”
“A feast—yes, this is cause for a feast. Father, Sir Geoffrey—I have never been happier to see anyone in my life. You’ll never believe everything that’s happened. There’s been a rebellion, April was kidnapped by her uncle, and I was kidnapped by Nathaniel Bacon—let’s go into the dining hall. Would you care for tea?” Ceressa knew she was rambling, but the shock and relief and amazement were disorienting. It was hard to keep her thoughts in order. And there was still the matter of Herrington—
Latimer chose that time to reappear, and his look was troubling. Ceressa couldn’t tell if he was upset or annoyed or—dismayed. Moving close to him, she took his hand in hers. “Cassie is preparing something for Father and Sir Geoffrey to eat. This is a night for celebration.”
“I suppose it is, at that.” Latimer’s tone was dull. Flat. No emotion. No elation. Her heart sank as she released his hand before entering the dining hall, her father pulling out a chair for her at the table. After assisting her, he took a seat; Geoffrey across from him. Latimer remained standing, as though he wanted to be able to escape quickly should the need arise. Libby entered bearing the tea tray and ham biscuits to tide them over until the meal was delivered. As Ceressa poured the tea, her father and godfather attacked the platter of biscuits. It was Sir Geoffrey who spoke first.
“As I promised, I will recount all that happened the night you left, Ceressa. After our disagreement, Latimer, I took a walk about the garden to calm myself. When I returned, Mrs. Haycock was in a dither, going on about misfortune befalling Jonathan and Theressa. After describing the man who had brought Ceressa the news and with whom she’d left, I was certain something was very wrong. Then Reva told me, Latimer, that you had taken the carriage to follow Ceressa.”
“I didn’t know who she was,” Latimer said as he leveled his gaze at his father. Guilt stabbed at Ceressa.
“I can’t believe you didn’t recognize our Ceressa.” Sir Geoffrey’s mild jest set Latimer’s jaw to twitching. But he continued with his part of the tale.
“I discovered Ceressa at the Red Rose near the wharfs. When I reached her,” Latimer shifted his gaze to her, “she had already wounded Herrington in self defense. I misinterpreted the situation and was still unaware of her identity. But I couldn’t leave her in such a predicament.”
“Sir Geoffrey, it’s my fault things became complicated,” Ceressa said. “When I saw Latimer at your soirée, I realized he didn’t recognize me. I intentionally withheld my name because I was afraid he’d think me boring. “
Jonathan’s face registered shock. “I’ve never known you to employ deceit.”
Ceressa felt the color drain from her face. “I’ve always been in love with Latimer, Father. I was afraid he would still think me little more than a child. I wanted him to find me as intriguing as Lady Reva.”
“Ceressa, there was never any need to be anything other than yourself.” She felt the tears welling as she met Sir Geoffrey’s gaze.
“Why didn’t you tell your mother and me how you felt?”
“It was my secret, and I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.” She gave her father an apologetic look.
“When we reached the ship, Ceressa told me the truth,” Latimer quickly added. “I needed a bride, and she needed to leave London.”
“Thanks to my coachman, Reva and I managed to piece together enough to know that the two of you had sailed on the same ship,” Sir Geoffrey said. “Though at the time why was beyond our comprehension. When we reached the docks, we were too late. The following morning, I learned you were being sought for the attempted murder of Charles Herrington. I paid the man a visit in his sickbed, but he refused to admit his wrongdoing.”
“Now, your mother and I enter this drama.” Jonathan picked up the story. “We never reached Aunt Lydia’s. Your mother developed a fever similar to yours, and rather than risk her health, I took a room at an inn in Plymouth, planning to stay there until a doctor pronounced her fit to travel. I sent a message to the barrister handling Lydia’s estate, a similar message to Lord Cason, which Herrington intercepted, and one to you explaining our delay.
“Lord Cason, himself, came to Plymouth as soon as he learned of his brother-in-law’s scheming. It seems that Herrington’s minion—most likely the man who lured you to the tavern—allowed greed to override his sense, and he went to Cason hoping a confession would earn him more money. That’s how Cason discovered that Herrington, in serious financial difficulty, planned to kidnap your mother and me and hold us for ransom. Lord Cason promptly notified the authorities. As soon as he shared this information, we left Plymouth and returned to London, only to discover from Geoffrey that you were on your way to Virginia.
“A few days later, I received word from Lord Cason that Herrington had been arrested for blackmailing another of Cason’s wealthy clients.”
“So the wound I inflicted was a minor one,” Ceressa murmured, the weight of months of anxiety lifting and floating away. Thank You, Lord. Thank You.
“Indeed, he was quite well—until his arrest.” Sir Geoffrey chuckled at his little joke. “Jonathan and I knew we had to sail to Virginia.”
“I insisted that your mother remain in England, not wanting to jeopardize her complete recovery. There were delays while crossing, which is why we’ve just arrived.”
“Does this mean my name has been cleared?” Her father and godfather laughed.
“I believe, my dearest goddaughter, you can safely say that. You’ve no idea how worried we’ve been. What a blessing to find you well and happy and wedded to my son.” Jonathan nodded in agreement. Obviously, Geoffrey had told her father he was Latimer’s sire. “God has answered all of my prayers.”
“And mine, as well,” Jonathan affirmed. “Latimer, I could think of no man I’d rather call son-in-law. Ceressa, your mother wants you to visit. She misses you so.”
“Perhaps she should leave when you return.” Latimer’s tone was chilly. “Ceressa doesn’t belong here.”
“Why would you say that?” Ceressa came to her feet and met Latimer’s gaze, though tears made his image fuzzy.
“Don’t think I don’t know what’s happening here.” Jealousy and fear marred the magnificent green of his eyes. “I have matters to attend.” He turned abruptly while Ceressa, Sir Geoffrey, and Jonathan stared in shock, unheeding of Libby’s arrival with a platter of venison.
****
Latimer stomped angrily toward the stable. Faint light was provided by a harvest moon and the stars, their patterns reaffirming that fall was near at hand. But it wasn’t the shifting of the constellations that worried Latimer. It was the two men who were most important to Ceressa—the two men who had just arrived on his doorstep. He’d always known Virginia was no place for Ceressa. She belonged in England. Now he was faced with the prospect of losing her.
But what was a man, be he commoner or lord, if he was forced to live without the woman who gave him life and spirit, who filled his days with warmth, his nights with tenderness, and grew old by his side? Had he truly, as Torrence Willshire hinted, pushed away the one thing he treasured above all else?
By now, Latimer had reached the stable, and he made his way to Firewind. His old friend had been discovered wandering the ruins of James Cittie by Dirk, the ferry
man, who had enticed the stallion close enough to get a rope about his neck. Firewind had been returned with a matted coat, minor cuts, and a voracious appetite, but none the worst for his stay in the destroyed town. The horse nickered at his approach and stuck his head over his stall. Latimer slipped his arm around the horse’s neck and smothered an anguished groan against the animal’s freshly brushed coat.
“Oh, Lord, I come before You, a man broken and fearful. A man who asks that he be given another chance. I love Ceressa. I know that she could find a man more worthy than I, but I don’t believe there is another man on this earth who could love her more. Please don’t let me destroy this wonderful, amazing love that Ceressa has so freely given me. Please, Lord.”
A gentle silence wrapped around him, and he remained there with his head bowed, accepting the Lord’s peace that filled his aching heart. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there until footsteps told him another had entered the stable. Releasing the horse, he turned around to see Geoffrey, holding a lantern. The man hung the lantern on a nail, and then leaned against Nosegay’s stall, the mare thrusting her nose against his offered palm. For the first time in years, Latimer felt comfortable in the man’s presence—his father’s presence.
“You know that Ceressa doesn’t want to return to England.”
Something painful twisted within Latimer, but he was determined to speak civilly and rationally. “She must make her own decision.”
“I applaud your wish to be fair, but I must say, were I in your position, I might not be so objective.”
“I don’t want her to remain here out of some misguided sense of duty.”
“She loves you, Latimer. She’s adored you for years.”
“Life would be safer and uncomplicated for her in England.”
“Ceressa would never leave you for comfort and ease. Hasn’t she convinced you of that over the course of these past few months? Every day, I regret that I didn’t fight for your mother before she wed Cameron. She held my heart and soul, and I allowed her to marry another. Don’t make the same mistake. If you do, you will live to regret it. But no matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”
Latimer fought the urge to weep. All of his life, he’d waited to hear those words, even when he’d believed himself to be this man’s nephew. Now, they were uttered by the man he knew to be his father.
“I handled the matter of your expulsion from Exeter poorly. I felt that I failed you then made you the target of my self anger. I’ve lived with that knowledge, and it has not been pleasant. I’m sorry I wasn’t the source of strength or compassion I should have been. I want to be a different man.”
Though stunned by his father’s words, Latimer knew what he needed to say. “And I want to be a different man.” More footsteps sounded within the dimly lit stable, but the tread was lighter and softer. It was Ceressa.
“April is teaching me the language of her father, Sir Geoffrey. And I have the perfect name for you. You are my askuwheteau—one who keeps watch.”
A smile softened the years etched upon Geoffrey’s face. “I am most honored to be given such a magnificent name. I believe I will return to the bounty that Cassie and Libby have provided. Even an old man has to eat.”
After kissing Ceressa’s cheek, he left them, but Ceressa remained some distance away, as though uncertain if she should approach. Latimer closed the distance between them and laced his fingers with hers. For a brief moment, he wrestled with the words he’d spoken earlier to his father. Then he prayed for the strength to accept God’s will.
Lowering his head, he kissed Ceressa, deeply and thoroughly. When they pulled apart, her delicate breaths fanned his jaw.
“I’m not going to let you out of my life.” His voice was raspy and rough.
Ceressa placed her hand against his jaw. “Why would I leave my home?”
“Because your life here with me will never be as it was in England. I can’t give back all you lost when you placed your trust in me that night at the tavern.”
“God sent you to rescue me. He knew what I needed—you. And that you needed me. I ask for nothing more than your love.”
“And you have that. You always have.” Their lips met again. At last, they parted, but she took hold of his hands.
“I have suffered torturously for not telling you who I was, and I’ve sent up many a prayer asking for the Lord’s forgiveness. I know He has forgiven me, but I hope you will, as well.”
“There’s nothing to forgive. My anger blinded me to the truth. By the way, I believe it’s time you discarded Heloise’s garments and selected fabrics for your own. Even though you look quite fetching tonight.” He grinned mischievously.
“I don’t know what to say, milord. New gowns? Such extravagance renders me nearly faint.”
Latimer kissed her again, and when he moved his lips from hers, he gently clasped her chin. “Still feeling faint?”
“Perhaps another kiss would give me some relief.”
Latimer gladly complied, though what he’d intended as a quick kiss became much more. But that was to be expected. Everything he’d attempted since rescuing a choking damsel at a soirée he’d almost avoided had become more—much more wonderful and much more amazing. Thanks to the gracious and forgiving God who’d softened the heart of a dragon.
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