‘Elena, wait!’
He strode after her and caught up as she reached their chamber. She tried to evade him but he bundled her unceremoniously inside and shut the door behind them. Elena glared at him.
‘Leave me alone, Harry.’
‘Not until we sort this out.’
‘Can you pretend you don’t love Belén?’
‘When I spoke of those events I was describing my emotions then, not now.’
‘Emotions you still felt a few days ago.’
‘Not so,’ he replied. ‘I told you what my feelings were.’
‘Ah, yes. You care for me. You love her.’
‘If I had thought that you would so misconstrue the matter I’d have set the record straight.’
‘You had the chance to set the record straight, but you didn’t take it.’
‘Because I’m a damned fool. You were right when you said that I hide my feelings. It has become a habit with me and perhaps a defence too.’
‘A defence against what?’
‘Against the knowledge of what you made me feel.’
Elena regarded him in surprise but checked the urge to interrupt.
‘I tried to deny it at first,’ he went on, ‘but your honesty and your courage made me examine my own behaviour. It didn’t make for comfortable viewing.’ He paused. ‘When you declared your feelings so openly...well, I wasn’t expecting it even if they were the words I’d most wanted you to say.’
She swallowed hard. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘Yes, I do mean that. I love you, Elena.’
It was so welcome and so unexpected that it was hard to take in at first. ‘Then you don’t still...you’re not...’
‘No, I’m not. That chapter of my life is over. I want to move on—with you. You are my love now.’
‘I want to be, Harry.’
His heart gave a painful lurch. ‘I don’t deserve that you should but I’m glad all the same.’
Elena regarded him in heart-thumping silence for some seconds, then returned a quizzical look. ‘How glad exactly?’
He took her in his arms and proceeded to show her with a lingering kiss that removed every last trace of doubt.
* * *
Later that morning Jamie arrived. They joined him in the private parlour. Elena thought his face had more colour now than it had erewhile, his eyes more sparkle. His whole manner seemed generally more animated. Perhaps the previous day’s meeting had been good for him too. She hoped so. Her own happiness was such that she wanted everyone else to be happy.
‘Would you like to talk alone?’ she asked.
‘No, please stay,’ replied Jamie. ‘Since what we must discuss now involves you as well.’
‘As you wish.’
When Elena had sat down they followed suit.
‘I’m glad you are come,’ said Harry. ‘Quite apart from the pleasure of seeing you, we need to discuss what happens next.’
Jamie smiled. ‘Yes, we do.’
‘Will you be returning to England with Elena and me?’
‘I regret not, although I hope I shall not be far behind you.’
‘The loose ends you mentioned yesterday?’
‘Just so.’
‘Very well.’ Harry paused. ‘I trust this won’t involve you in further danger.’
‘You need have no fears on that score.’
‘That’s a relief.’
‘I plan to keep a whole skin, I promise you.’ Jamie held his brother’s gaze. ‘The important thing now is to let the family know I’m alive and to expose the fraudulent claim to the title.’
‘Trust me for that. We should be back within a month at the outside.’
‘You should have no difficulty in getting a passage. Ships regularly ply their trade between here and England.’
‘So I believe.’
‘The sooner this scheming upstart is confronted the better. We need to know who masterminded the plan. He’s the real villain of the piece.’
‘We’ll find out all right.’
‘What will happen to the culprits?’ asked Elena.
‘They’ll hang,’ said Jamie.
She shivered inwardly. ‘I wonder if this woman was aware of that when she agreed to the plan.’
‘If not she’s about to be made aware of it.’ He eyed Harry. ‘That may just be the leverage required to get the whole story.’
Harry nodded. ‘Exactly what I was thinking.’
‘I’ll leave the matter in your capable hands for the time being.’
‘Don’t be too long.’
‘I won’t. In the meantime, we need to organise your passage home.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
A week later they left Cádiz on a merchantman bound for England. As the ship slid out of harbour Elena stood at the rail watching the coast recede. Now that they were under way she experienced a strange sensation in which anticipation was mingled with sadness. There was no way of knowing if she would ever see her homeland again. It seemed unlikely in the scheme of things.
‘Are you all right, darling?’
Harry’s voice broke the train of thought. She turned and smiled.
‘Quite all right, I thank you.’
‘Not too cold?’
She shook her head. ‘To be on board a ship is a new experience.’
‘I hope the experience will be a positive one.’
‘Do you fear we shall be wrecked?’
‘No, but we do have to negotiate the Bay of Biscay. It can be rough.’
‘We have weathered worse, you and I,’ she replied.
Harry eyed her keenly. ‘With you beside me I believe I could weather anything that fate might throw.’
‘So we’ll take Biscay in our stride, then.’
He grinned. ‘We may not even notice it.’
‘It’s exciting. Do sailors feel the same, I wonder, when they set forth on a new voyage?’
‘I suppose they may. All the same, it’s a hard life with lengthy periods away from home.’
‘That must be the worst part of it.’
‘Speaking of home,’ he said, ‘where do you wish ours to be?’
‘Somewhere in the countryside. A farm, perhaps?’
‘I think we can do better than that. I’m a reasonably wealthy man, after all.’
Elena threw him a mischievous look. ‘Really? You didn’t tell me this before.’
‘I wanted to be married for myself, not for my money—hence our lengthy courtship.’
‘I’m glad you took time to think carefully.’
‘It was an important decision,’ he replied. ‘Besides, I hate to be rushed.’
‘It may take a while to choose the house, now that we no longer have my uncle’s guiding hand.’
Harry grinned. ‘We’ll just have to cope, won’t we?’
‘I’m confident that we shall.’
‘So am I.’
She met his gaze and they both laughed. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement and glanced round. Then her smile widened further.
‘Harry, look!’
He followed the line of her gaze. ‘Dolphins! Well, I’m blessed!’
The graceful creatures were no more than twenty yards off, keeping pace with the ship, cleaving the water with effortless ease. Elena was enchanted.
‘They’re beautiful! I hoped we might see some but I wasn’t sure we really would.’
He grinned. ‘They must have come especially to greet us.’
‘I think they have.’
‘Sailors believe they bring good fortune.’
‘Well, they should know.’ She glanced up at him. ‘We should take this as a good omen.’
Harry put his arm around her waist, drawing her closer. ‘I do, my love. Very much so.’
As he watched the leaping dolphins Harry felt his heart lighten, as though the last remnants of a great shadow had dissolved. While he would never forget the events of the past he had come to terms with them at last, as he had co
me to terms with self-knowledge. All he had to do now was move on and embrace his future. Good omens told him so.
* * * * *
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Turn the page to find out more about Joanna Fulford and the Castonbury Park series…
Joanna Fulford is a compulsive scribbler, with a passion for literature and history, both of which she has studied to postgraduate level. Other countries and cultures have always exerted a fascination, and she has travelled widely, living and working abroad for many years. However, her roots are in England, and are now firmly established in the Peak District, where she lives with her husband Brian. When not pressing a hot keyboard she likes to be out on the hills, either walking or on horseback. However, these days equestrian activity is confined to sedate hacking rather than riding at high speed towards solid obstacles. Visit Joanna’s website at www.joannafulford.co.uk
Previous novels by the same author:
THE VIKING’S DEFIANT BRIDE
THE VIKING’S TOUCH
THE WAYWARD GOVERNESS
Did you know that some of these novels are also available
as eBooks?
Visit www.Harlequin.com
Author Q&A
What are you researching for your forthcoming novel?
My next project sees a return to the early medieval period—a sequel to THE LAIRD’S CAPTIVE WIFE. This is an era I have become increasingly interested in and, along with the Regency, enjoy writing about. When I was writing the original book it occurred to me that Ashlynn’s brother, Ban, might one day have a story of his own. Readers agreed, and several people asked about a sequel. I’m pleased to tell them that this is now underway.
What is your hero’s favourite childhood memory of Castonbury Park?
Harry has fond memories of the horse races he had with his brothers when they thought no one was watching. The pace was keen—a neck-or-nothing style that he and they found exhilarating. He enjoyed the competitive edge in those games and always hoped to beat Jamie, though he never did.
What would you most like to have been doing in Regency times?
I’d have liked to have been taught to drive a high-perch phaeton—preferably by one of the notable whips of the time. Those people made it look easy, though it was anything but. It would be wonderful to be able to ‘drive to an inch’, as they did, though I suspect I’d be lucky if I managed to drive to an ell.
Which stately home inspired Castonbury Park, and why?
Castonbury Park was inspired by Kedleston Hall. The latter is a magnificent property and is situated in Derbyshire—the setting for our series. The surrounding scenery is lovely too. This place ticked all the boxes with regard to the grandeur and the status required for the Montague family, and it was easy to imagine our fictional family living there. Since the information and images are available online it was easy for all the authors to have a virtual tour of the place, even though they couldn’t get there in person.
Where did you get the inspiration for Harry and Elena?
Harry came to mind first—a vivid and dramatic figure who wasn’t anything like the man I’d originally envisaged as my hero, but who refused to go away. Moreover, he did not want to be at Castonbury—which could have been a problem given that the series is set there. However, I have learned to listen to my characters, and eventually Harry came clean about his reasons for avoiding the place and for not wanting to go back to Spain. This was the basis for his emotional conflict. Elena arrived juxtaposed with the image of a convent. At first this seemed like a most unpromising scenario for the heroine of my story, but slowly the reasons began to emerge. As the layers began to peel away I became more intrigued about what she was telling me about herself. It became clear that she was the ideal woman for my hero. All this then had to be interwoven into the over-arching plot for the whole series. Amazingly, it was—and with fewer problems than anticipated.
AUTHOR NOTE
This series is set between the spring of 1816 and the late summer of 1817. Although the Napoleonic Wars have finished, the memory of Waterloo is still sharp. People are relieved that the lengthy conflict is over, but at the same time have to come to terms with the massive loss of life involved. There is scarcely a family that has not been affected in some way. The over-arching plot reflects this. Edward Montague dies in battle —a tragedy that has far-reaching consequences for his entire family.
Waterloo was the decisive blow for the coalition forces, and the end of a campaign fought on many fronts. One of these was the Peninsular War in Spain, which had ended two years earlier. I was once fortunate enough to live in Madrid for some years, and used it as a base to explore as much of Iberia as I could. The history of Spain also interests me very much, so this aspect of the Napoleonic Era is of especial interest. In the course of my reading on the subject I was riveted by accounts of events in the aftermath of the Siege of Badajoz in 1812, when British troops ran amok in a three-day orgy of pillage, rape and arson.
It was a shameful episode which, even at a distance of two hundred years, makes for very uncomfortable reading. Those accounts made me wonder what it must have been like for the individuals caught up in it—whether they were hapless officers trying to regain control of their men or innocent civilians who suffered the atrocities that occurred. How would an English soldier and a Spanish heroine come to terms with what had happened? How would they reconcile individual and cultural differences? This provided the basis for the deep emotional conflicts that my protagonists must resolve by the end of the story.
Don’t miss the next instalment of Castonbury Park—
A STRANGER AT CASTONBURY
by Amanda McCabe
‘It’s hard to admit, but you’re not the son I once knew…’
The obliterated battlefields of Spain are a world away from the privileged life of James Montague, Earl of Castonbury. Only nurse Catalina Moreno eases the deafening roar of mortar fire—and in a crumbling chapel by candlelight they make their vows. But before the sheets cool from their scorching wedding night Jamie leaves for a brutally dangerous mission…
Two years later, believing her husband dead, Catalina is shocked to see a man who looks and sounds like her Jamie at Castonbury—but where once there was warmth and charm now unflinching torment lies in the gaze of a man she barely recognises…
Stranger at Castonbury
It looked like the landscape of another world entirely—not a place where he had once lived and worked, fought and loved. It was a place he had never seen before except in nightmares.
Jamie felt strangely numb, remote from his surroundings, as he climbed stiffly down from his horse and studied the scorched patch of earth where the camp had once stood. The hot sun beat down from a clear, mercilessly blue sky onto the baked, cracked dust, but Jamie didn’t even feel it. He was vaguely aware of Xavier Sanchez, sitting on his own horse several feet away and watching the scene warily, but Jamie felt as if he were the only living being left for miles around.
Maybe the only living being left on the planet.
There were no sounds—no birds singing or wind sweeping through the trees. Once this place had been filled with voices, laughter, the cries of the injured, the barked orders of a military operation. The ghosts of such sounds in his mind made the silence even heavier.
Jamie tilted back his head to stare up into the sky. He could smell the dusty scent of the air, the faint acrid remains of fire. The echoes of the violence that had happened here.
And Catalina had been caught in it.
His numbness was shattered
by a spasm of pure, raw pain at the thought of what must have happened here. The fear and panic, the sense of being trapped amid fire and ruin with nowhere to run. No one to help her because he had gone.
‘Catalina,’ he whispered, his heart shattered at the thought of her being afraid.
Had she thought of him in that moment, just as he had pictured only her face when he’d been sure he was drowning? Had she called out his name?
Jamie walked slowly across the blasted, blackened patch of earth, not seeing it as it was now, abandoned and ruined, but as it had been that day he’d first seen Catalina. Her smile, her face like a beautiful, exotic flower, a haven of peace and loveliness in a mad world. She had given him something he had never known before—stillness, a place to belong. She had made him think of things he had never dared to before—like a future, a home. With her he had imagined even the grand halls of Castonbury could be that home, if she was there.
And then in only a moment that had all gone.
He remembered her hurt, pale face when she’d found out about the nature of his secret work. The doubts that had lingered in her eyes when they’d parted. He had foolishly imagined he would have time to make it all right later, to make everything up to her.
Jamie reached up and pressed his hand over the ring he wore on a chain around his neck under his shirt, against his heart. Cawley had said this ring—Catalina’s ring—had been found here among the dead. Yet some stubborn hope clung to Jamie—what if she had somehow miraculously got away?
ISBN: 9781426876776
Copyright © Joanna Fulford 2012
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