by Kelly Boyce
Spence spread his fingers and stared at them. He wished Grandmama had not brought it up. He did not like to remember that day. The long night, waiting next to his dead parents until someone found them, had been interminable. He’d cried at first, but then the tears ran dry. He had not cried since. Not when Grandfather arrived the next day with several tenants who had gone in search of them. Not at the funeral where they buried Mother and Father side by side. Not even when Grandmama tucked him in at night, tears in her own eyes, and promised everything would be fine. They would get through it together. That he was not alone.
But it had been a lie.
A part of Spence had always felt alone. Oh, he had his grandparents who loved him with everything they had. And he’d had the friendship of Nick and Bowen who were like brothers to him. But a hollowness remained in a part of his heart where his parents had once lived. Only when he’d found Caelie had that hole been filled. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but now that she had left him the hollowness echoed inside of him once again. A staggering loss that mocked him once more.
Like his father, he had realized too late what he had and waited too long to act upon it.
And he had lost everything as a result.
“Why are you telling me this now?”
Grandmama shook her head. “I’m not certain, other than I think you deserve the truth. Perhaps we should have told you long ago. Maybe it would have dispelled this fear you have that marriage is nothing but misery. It isn’t. Not if you treat each other right from the start. Not if you recognize the wonderful gift you can be to each other and cherish that gift as if it is the most precious thing you own. Your parents didn’t do that. If they had, maybe the outcome would have been much different. That is the mistake you should avoid making, Spencer. Not marriage itself.”
Spencer lifted the letter he still held in his hand. “But I’m already too late, Grandmama. I already missed my chance.”
Caelie was gone. He had let her go. Right from the start, he had made it clear he had no interest in taking a wife, then he’d helped her find another husband so he could avoid marriage, when what he should have done was begged her to marry him. He’d been so caught up in his old beliefs he hadn’t stopped long enough to realize his views had changed.
At least they had with respect to spending his life with her.
Now he had only the memory of what might have been to keep him company.
What a prize idiot he was.
* * *
The trip to Sheridan Park took two days, due to the condition of the roads. By the time she and Elsie arrived, Caelie was overcome with exhaustion. She had not sent word ahead. There had been no time. After overhearing the discussion between Lord Ellesmere and Spencer, Caelie had enlisted Elsie’s help, who in turn had enlisted Mr. Garron’s assistance, and between the three of them she had packed her things and had them loaded onto the awaiting carriage with all due haste. At the first inn they came to outside of London, they had sent the Ellesmere carriage back and hired one of their own, then set out again. Caelie hadn’t wanted to stop, afraid if she did, she would turn around and go back.
But she couldn’t. She had nothing to go back to.
She hated leaving without speaking to Lady Ellesmere personally, but she couldn’t risk having the marchioness talk her out of it. Nor did she want to see Spencer, or hear him try to convince her not to go through with the engagement. She shouldn’t have been surprised. He did not want to marry her. She’d known it all along.
He had an attraction for her, that she could not deny. But attractions waned when nothing deeper existed to hold them in place. And it did not appear Spencer thought of her as anything more than a duty. He would marry her because he had to, not because he wanted to.
She was better rid of this place and its heartbreak. Better rid of London and its memories all together. She had come back and tried to recapture what she’d once had, but to no avail. It was not meant to be. In the end, she wasn’t so certain she wanted it anyway.
After two years away from society, she no longer fit the mould of the proper young lady with starry eyes and an innocent heart, waiting for her Prince Charming to find her so her real life would begin.
Life, she discovered, did not play out like a fairy tale. Oh, real life had plenty of trolls and wicked witches to be certain, but the Prince Charmings were in very short supply. And her Prince Charming had no interest in a happily ever after with her.
No, best she leave it behind. She would stay with Abigail until her cousin’s baby arrived, then she would go somewhere else, start fresh. Maybe she would change her name, create a new identity altogether. Bury Caelie Laytham in the past.
“Thank you for your help, Elsie. I know this likely isn’t what you anticipated when you took the position of lady’s maid.”
Elsie smiled, her practical nature and positive outlook unhindered by the long hours in the carriage. “I have never been one to shy away from an adventure, m’lady.”
“You’re a braver soul than I.”
“Oh, I’m not sure about that. Garron told me of your troubles with your mother. It takes a hearty sort to strike out on your own. We’re not so different after all.”
Caelie took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in her heart. Maybe Elsie was right. With no one to answer to, no one telling her what to do or how to do it, she could do as she pleased. The freedom left her a bit dizzy. And a little lost.
“Don’t you find it lonely having adventures by yourself?”
Elsie’s smile grew and a pretty pink colored her cheeks. “I suppose I’m not as alone as all that.”
Caelie blinked and her brain clicked and whirled as she put the pieces together. “Mr. Garron?”
“He’s a little rough around the edges to some, but he’s a good man. Under all that gruffness is the heart of a gallant knight. And I cannot deny he makes me feel quite safe and pretty. Oh, but look at me talkin’ such foolishness.”
Caelie shook her head. “Not at all, Elsie. I’m very happy for you and Mr. Garron. Both of you have seen me through a very difficult time and I cannot wish you anything but happiness for your future.”
“I thank you, m’lady. I wasn’t sure I’d marry again after losin’ my Rabbie, but I guess the heart heals after all, goin’ about its business when we’re not payin’ attention.”
“I hope so, Elsie. I truly hope so.” Her heart could use some healing.
The carriage crested the final hill and relief flooded through her. She had not been to Sheridan Park since the annual house party the Sheridans threw every year. It had been her first public outing since her father’s death. She’d been terrified no one would speak to her, let alone dance with her. But Spencer had been the first to approach her after she danced the first set with Nicholas. She knew Nicholas had had a hand in it. He’d wanted to make amends for what had happened to her father. She appreciated the gesture, appreciated even more not being left to stand against the wall like a potted plant, feeling like an eyesore everyone wished would leave.
The carriage stopped at the wide step and a moment later Garron opened the door and assisted her and Elsie out. She took a deep breath, prayed her arriving without notice would not be an imposition. The door swept open before they reached it and two footmen stepped outside to assist Garron with the trunks. The butler, whose name she could not recall, ushered them inside.
“I will alert Lady Blackbourne you are here, my lady,” he said after he’d led her to the drawing room. Silence shrouded the house, save for the normal sounds of the soft tread of housemaids and footmen going about their duties. She took a seat and smiled at the housekeeper when she brought a pot of tea.
“Her ladyship will be right down, ma’am, and I’ve shown your Miss Brampton to her lodgings as well.”
“Thank you—” She stopped. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Oh, Mrs. Hume, ma’am. Been here since the new lord was but a boy in short pants. Now you make sure you eat some
of those biscuits. Her ladyship claims there is nothing that tastes quite like them.”
Caelie nodded her thanks, but the turmoil in her stomach made it impossible to consider putting anything in it just yet.
“Caelie!” Her head jerked up at the sound of her cousin’s voice. “I thought they must have been mistaken when they said you were here. Whatever has brought—” She stopped and a stricken look crossed her face. “Is it Mr. Bowen? Has he—”
“Oh no!” Caelie stood and rushed to her cousin who had yet to come further than the door. “Mr. Bowen is doing quite well. He is up and around, though Lady Ellesmere keeps chasing him back to bed insisting he needs his rest.”
Abigail’s hand patted her chest. “You scared me. But…why then are you here?”
Caelie hedged. “I…I thought I would come for a visit. Can I not come to visit my cousin?”
“You are welcome any time, you know that. But what of your husband hunt?” She clapped her hands together. “Have you settled on someone then? Are you betrothed? Oh Caelie, how wonderful! Who is it?”
Caelie should have known better than to think her cousin’s curious nature would let her off the hook. “Come, sit down,” she said and led Abigail to the sofa. The early afternoon light filtered through the window and created a halo around her cousin’s blonde head. Marriage suited her. Marriage to Nicholas even more so. Gone was the anger and need for revenge that had once clouded her expression. In its place, she had recovered her quick smile and her cheeks glowed with health and happiness. Caelie envied her, but she did not resent her. Abigail had championed their family when she, broken and distraught, could not. She had earned her happiness the hard way and Caelie did not begrudge her a moment of it.
“You’re making me sit down? Sitting down isn’t good. Sitting down is what they make you do when they give you bad news. What is it Caelie? What has happened?”
She hated to dim the light that sparked in Abigail’s blue eyes, but she did not want to lie to her cousin any longer. She had carried the burden of her secrets for as long as she could, but the weight had grown too heavy and she needed to set it down somewhere safe.
She waited until Abigail took a seat on the short sofa.
“I’m not sure where to begin.” She had thought about this conversation from every angle. How much should she tell, what should she keep to herself? She still did not know.
“Begin at the beginning.”
But where was that? Caelie stood and paced to the window to peer out into the gardens. In no time at all, it would be filled with color and scents, bumble bees and butterflies.
She let out a deep breath and returned to her seat on the sofa and took Abigail’s hands in hers. She needed her cousin’s strength right now. She turned to face her. “I am ruined.”
Abigail blinked several times but said nothing for a long moment. When she did, her voice pitched higher than her usual tone. “I beg your pardon?”
“Ruined.”
The blinking continued for another moment. Caelie waited while Abigail processed the information. When she had, her eyes grew wide. “Huntsleigh?”
“No! Well…” She cleared her throat. “No. Not really.”
“No, not really? Caelie, either he did or he didn’t. Which is it?”
“Lady Caelie? Mrs. Hume said it was you but I did not believe her.”
Caelie turned to see Nicholas stride into the room with all the confidence of a man who had found his place in the world. Quite the change from the disreputable rake he’d once been. Now he was the epitome of the respectable gentleman and happy husband, though if she looked close enough, Caelie could still see the hint of the devil he’d once been lurking beneath his silvery eyes.
Abigail jumped up from the sofa. “Huntsleigh has ruined Caelie!”
Nicholas stopped mid-step, his boot hitting the carpet with a dull thud. He echoed his wife’s earlier question. “I beg your pardon?”
“Huntsleigh has ruined her.” She pointed a finger at Caelie in case Nicholas was unclear as to which her Abigail referred to. Caelie’s face flamed with heat.
“It isn’t like that,” she said, holding her hand out to ward off any further accusations before she could explain. It did no good.
Nicholas glared. “Then what is it like?”
“Don’t ask her,” Abigail said. “She’s speaking in riddles. I can’t get a single straight answer out of her.”
“Perhaps if you sat down and let me speak that would help.”
But Nicholas did not take the suggestion. “Answer me—has Huntsleigh ruined you?”
Caelie took a deep breath. So much for starting at the beginning. “Lord Huntsleigh has proposed, but—”
“Then where is he? And why are you here?”
“We are not going to marry. It’s—”
“And why not? Has he reneged? He hasn’t taken off again on one of those godforsaken ships has he?”
“No. If you would let me—”
Nicholas whirled about and shouted out the open door. “Gilmour! Have my horse saddled immediately!”
“Nicholas, please!”
Nicholas strode back into the room and wiggled a finger under Caelie’s nose, close enough to make her eyes cross if she stared at it. “I will not have this! I cannot believe he would sink so low as to seduce my own family. This is beyond forgivable. I will kill him!”
“Please, you must listen to me!”
Caelie grabbed at Nicholas’s sleeve as he turned once again and stalked from the room, the fumes of his explosion leaving the air around them polluted with his anger. But it did her no good. He moved too quickly to be caught and in a matter of minutes he was gone from the house and Caelie and Abigail were left behind to stare at the empty space left in his wake.
“He’s a bit of a hothead, isn’t he?” Abigail did not appear perturbed in the least at her husband’s outburst and utterance of violence against his oldest friend.
“We have to stop him. It is not as it appears.”
“It rarely is,” Abigail said. “Sit down, tell me what has happened, and don’t leave anything out. If I am to calm the beast and make him see reason, I will need the truth at my disposal.”
Her cousin’s calm nature surprised her. Usually Caelie was the one who provided the voice of reason while Abigail went off half-cocked. When had the tables turned? “But he is on his way to London. We must stop him.”
“Do not worry. Nick will not hurt Huntsleigh unless he deserves it. Does he?”
Caelie gave into her exhaustion and dropped onto the sofa next to Abigail. “No. He does not.”
“Then he didn’t ruin you?”
She shook her head and bit her lip. “My ruin came well before Lord Huntsleigh, Abigail. Perhaps I should pour some tea for us. This is a rather long and complicated tale. And once I finish, promise me you will send word fast on Nicholas’s heels to ensure he doesn’t do anything foolish.”
“I promise. Now sit and tell me about this ruination of yours so I can send my husband after the correct perpetrator.”
Caelie took a sip of the strong tea and began her tale, timidly at first, afraid Abigail may judge her or think less of her, but she should have known better. Her cousin had always been her staunchest ally and she continued to be so.
“Oh, Caelie, I wish I had known,” Abigail said once Caelie had purged her soul and left it bare. “All the signs were there in retrospect. You seemed so broken after Billingsworth ended your engagement, more so than he deserved. And no wonder you counseled me to use caution when I was determined to throw my innocence to the wind with Nicholas. You knew only too well the consequences. I never liked Billingsworth. His behavior in this mess does not surprise me. But Huntsleigh—I am disappointed in him. I have half a mind to let Nicholas give him a proper thrashing. It would serve him right for letting Lord Ellesmere convince him not to marry you.”
Caelie shook her head. “No, it is not like that. I am certain if Lord Ellesmere knew the full story he would
demand Spencer do the right thing, and I am equally as certain Spencer would comply.”
“Then why do you not take that option!”
“Because he does not love me and he despises the idea of marriage. What kind of happiness would we have, entering into marriage under those conditions? I have spent the last two years being miserable and I will not consign my future to it—or his. He has done nothing to me I have not wished for. Shameful as it is, I wanted him, Abby. I desired him to such a degree I had no control over it. Nor did I want to. You don’t understand—”
Abigail grabbed her hands. “Oh, but I do, Caelie. I promise you I do. You are not the only one to be overcome by such feelings. But won’t you at least consider that these feelings are strong enough to build upon together?”
Caelie stared down at their hands. “Only if we both shared them. But we do not.” She looked up at her cousin. “Spencer proposed out of duty. If I allowed him to go through with this sham of a marriage, he would grow to resent me. I would be a burden to him. And I am so tired of being a burden, Abby. Don’t ask it of me again.”
Abigail sighed. “This whole disaster hurts my heart, Caelie. I had hoped this second chance would find you the happiness you deserved and now…”
Caelie smiled at her cousin, warmth spreading through her from the love she felt for her. “Do not feel sorry for me, Abby. I know you wish to fix this, but you cannot. The mistakes are my own and now I must live with them.”
“Then I suppose I should send a man after Nicholas and ensure he does not beat his best friend within an inch of his life.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“My lord, you have visitors.”
Spence stared out the window at the Glenmor townhouse across the street. “Send them away, Alfred. I do not wish to see anyone.” It had been his standard answer for the past several days and he saw no reason to change it now. Solitude suited him. Or rather it suited anyone who would have to bear his company given his current state of mind.
“It is Lord Ellesmere, sir. As well as Lord Blackbourne and Mr. Bowen.” The graveness of Alfred’s tone pulled Spence from his thoughts and he turned away from the window to stare at the man. Bowen had come by once already and Alfred, upon his instruction, had said he was not in. He doubted Bowen had believed his butler but he hadn’t pushed. Now it appeared he had brought reinforcements in Nick and his grandfather.
