“I don't know about that,” Wesley said. “But I am here, Lola. I am real.”
“I know,” she said, and flew into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair and inhaling her scent. “Oh Lord, don't ever do that again”
“Mmm,” was all he managed to say.
“Are you alright, Wesley?” Aaron asked, half amused.
“Just bruised, sir,” he managed, as Lola finally let go of him. His comrades came forward, getting him with a hug, a handshake, and general surprise.
“How did you do it?” Harold asked “The explosion I heard...”
“It's a story for another time,” Wesley managed. “Gentlemen, Ladies...I have never wanted a drink so badly in my life, if you don't mind.”
“That we can do,” Aaron said, and they headed inside. Lola was locked hand in hand with him, looking up at him as if he were a god returned. Morgan lingered behind for a moment, glancing up at the sky as the cloud cover returned.
“Sir?” Matheson said, at his side. “Is all well?”
“Aye,” Morgan answered. “I just...can't go inside right now. I can't watch. It isn't fair, Matheson.”
“Life isn't fair,” Matheson agreed. “There is no rhyme or reason to why some of us are taken and others are not. We just have to trust the life that God has given us.”
“Well, that's the thing, I've never quite trusted anyone,” Morgan said, softly. “Except her, my countess.”
“This...affair between you and Miss Lola, though...”
“Contrived,” Morgan said, quickly. “For the sake of her plan, only. Although I did find a kindred spirit in the young Countess, I assure you that was all. I was a willing pawn if you will, for a moment free from loneliness.”
“Good,” Matheson said. “Because we've become a family, all of us. And we'd welcome you to be part of that family, Morgan, but not if...”
“There's no fear,” Morgan assured him. “Now that Wesley is back, anyways.”
“Good,” Matheson clapped him on the back. “Let's go inside then, together. It's going to be alright.”
“You keep saying that,” Morgan said. “How do you know?”
“Because I've been through quite a few more years than you,” Matheson said. “And I've seen a lot of hell. As long as you keep drawing breath, there is a way.”
“You always know the right thing to say, don't you?” Morgan gave him a small smile. “Is that how you've survived this long?”
“Or I know what side my bread is buttered,” Matheson replied. “And right now, that butter is on Lord Bamber's shelf. Shall we?”
Morgan finally laughed at that and followed Matheson inside.
The mood inside the house was different than when they had first left. It was lighter, happier, as if they were invincible. Lola didn't seem to want to leave her husband's side all night, which was understandable. However, just before they turned in for the night, she stopped by Morgan's side.
“Thank you,” she said, softly. He cocked an eyebrow at her, half drunk.
“It was all you, Milady,” he said. “I was just a follower.”
“It was both of us,” she said. “Everyone is alive because of both of us.”
“Not everyone,” Morgan said, and she patted his hand.
“Yes,” she said. “Not everyone.”
He gave her a little nod and she followed her husband up to bed, her heart half heavy. Her love was home, but Morgan was right, not everyone was alive.
She wasn't sure she deserved happiness any more than anyone else, but she was not about to take it for granted, in any case.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Aaron, listen to me,” Harold said, for what felt like the 700th time. Three weeks after their ordeal, life was finally returning to normal, which included the normal mischievous ways of the original Lord Bamber. “I am not a pirate or a Captain. I am employed by the British Navy and I have to go to work so will you tell me where my hat is or I swear to God...”
Aaron grinned like a mischievous child. His blue eyes were twinkling, his cheeks pink, and his chin held high.
“Have you considered pirate life?”
“Now!”
“You're not as joyful as you used to be, Harold,” Aaron said, at last, and retrieved his brother-in-law's hat from inside a kitchen cabinet.
“You're a child,” Harold snapped at him, putting it on his head.
“Indeed,” Aaron said. “But I am alive and I can go to the market, walk in the gardens with my wife, I can attend the court of the King, and so I will accept that.”
“Goodbye,” Harold rolled his eyes, heading out the door to his waiting carriage.
Entering the kitchen, Lola smirked as she watched Harold go.
“Why do you torment him so?”
“I used to do it on the ship all the time,” Aaron said. “I figured I'd make him feel at home.”
“I'm quite sure he feels at home, seeing as he has been here for years,” Lola replied. “It's just odd that you are again.”
“Are you not eating?” Aaron asked as she poured herself a cup of tea.
“No,” Lola replied, with a wince. He quirked an eyebrow.
“What is it?”
“It's nothing, it's silly,” she answered.
“Lola,” Aaron said. “When has something been off limits to our conversations?”
“My...corset has fit differently recently,” she said. “I thought that if I ever return to the stage...I'd like to be in the same...costumes as before.”
“Oh for goodness sake,” he said. “Do you think Wesley minds?”
“I don't think he minds at all,” she said. “But all of this sitting around the house with rich food and reading with him in the garden no doubt contributed to it. And in addition...”
“In addition?” he asked, confused. She turned a funny shade of pale that he suddenly recognized “Lola, are you going to be sick?”
“Just one moment,” she managed, heading for the back door, which led out into a patio. She barely made it outside before she double over, vomiting neatly onto the lawn.
“Good gracious,” Aaron said, at her side in an instant. “What's made you ill?”
She crouched down, making sure she was steady before she rose. She accepted his handkerchief, wiping her mouth.
“I just thought that I'd give you a chance to take care of me swooning at breakfast,” she said. “Since I've sat with you half a hundred times.”
“Lola...” Aaron said, and she shook her head.
“It's fine. It's happened a few times over the last few days. I assume I've just been struck by some minor illness, and it will be alright.”
He realized something, and reached for her shoulder.
“And you've gained weight?”
“A little,” she answered. Suddenly, it dawned on her. “Oh, no.”
“'Oh no' is not a normal reaction to the realization that you may be with...”
“With child,” she finished the sentence. “I can't be.”
Aaron furrowed his brow.
“Why not? Do you not know...?”
“I know how it works!” she snapped. “I just...my career...”
He laughed.
“Lola, you may be carrying the next Earl of Rippon, and that's what you are concerned with?”
She sank into a chair, her face still pale.
“Are you going to be sick again?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“It's just...Oh good Lord,” she couldn't believe this was possibly happening. “We reconciled, Aaron. We accepted that we loved each other, that we couldn't be apart, no matter what was happening around us. We accepted that it may drive down his family line, we accepted that people died because of our union...But we never talked about children...about a child of the union of an Earl and an actress.”
“What exactly did you think would happen?” he asked her. “Unless one of you was...not well, this was bound to happen.”
“But wh
at kind of life will this child have?” Lola asked. “From such a parentage? They will face discrimination, they will face...”
“Lola,” Aaron said softly. “Your child will have two brave and wonderful parents who will love it, and make sure it is brought up properly. Your child will have the blood line of an earl and the courage of an actress. It will have privilege, title, intelligence and creativity. This is not a bad thing.”
“I can't tell him,” she said. “Not yet.”
Aaron sighed, sitting in the chair opposite her.
“When, then?”
“Gilles goes on trial at the end of the week,” she said. “Let us wrap up this whole ordeal and then we can figure it out.”
“And then you can tell him,” Aaron corrected her. “Unless you are thinking of running again?”
“No,” she assured him. “I'm not. I'll never leave his side again. I just...have to figure this out. Accept that there is a new role in my life and it doesn't come with lines or an adoring audience.”
“It does,” he said, with a smile. “The lines you will figure out. The adoring audience is tiny, but you will love them just the same.”
She laughed at that.
“Is that how you feel about being a parent?”
“Are you asking me if I've figured it out?” he asked. “Because the answer is solidly no. Gwendolyn will be looking at suitors in a few years and I am still as confused as the day I learned she existed. I love my daughter, but every parent, Lola, is simply pretending to know what they are doing.”
“Have you thought about having another one?” she asked, suddenly. “You and Shauna? Adding to your family.”
“Ah,” he gave her a pained smile. “We'd like too.”
“But---Oh. Oh,” she suddenly realized. “I'm sorry.”
“It's alright,” he said. “It's just that you must have a large family now, to make up for it. We've always been the same soul, Lola. One of us being perfectly happy was just as good as both of us.”
“That's not a good excuse,” she said, as she took a sip of juice. “I'm alright now, so long as no one wanders around the patio.”
“What's on the patio?” Gwendolyn came into the dining room then and Aaron's expression completely changed. He opened his arms and his daughter gave him a brief hug before going to the serving platters. She had a viscous appetite, strong and healthy, which was all he could ever hope for.
Him being alive didn't change the line of succession, for Gwendolyn was still female. Harold's son James would still inherit, and would be ruled by a regent if Aaron was to meet an early grave. Gwendolyn, however, didn't seem to mind. She was a happy child, eager to please and learn, and she dreamed of a good marriage and a life full of happiness.
“Nothing,” he said. “Is your mother awake?”
“She is not,” Gwendolyn said. “But even if she was, she'd eat breakfast in her room. Why don't you eat breakfast in your room, Miss Lola?”
“Huh?” Lola took a moment to process what Gwendolyn was asking. “Oh. That is generally a tradition that married ladies of noble households uphold.”
“But you are a married lady and a countess,” Gwendolyn said, confused.
“That I am...” Lola glanced at Aaron. “But I'm an actress first. And I don't like waiting for my food.”
“And I am not brave enough to tell her to wait for her food,” Wesley said, as he swept into the room. Lola smiled up at him, rising to greet him. Aaron noticed that she arched her back differently, changing her posture to possibly hide any bulging belly “Lord Bamber, how do you fare?”
“Quite well, Earl Rippon,” Aaron said. “You're dressed for the office.”
“Well...yes,” Wesley looked between the two of them in confusion. “I agreed to go back, do you remember?”
“I'm not senile quite yet,” Aaron answered. “I just haven't seen it in awhile.”
“No time like the present,” Wesley said, taking a piece of toast. “Besides, I need to make sure the evidence is presented for Gilles to swing. I don't want one slip up.”
“From the noose?” Gwendolyn asked, and Aaron gave Wesley a look.
“Indeed,” he said. “Because Gilles did a bad thing, remember?”
“Yes,” Gwendolyn said. “But Father....will that mean the Bamber line only exists in this house?”
“Yes,” Aaron said. “Although there are others, they have little to no claim. When your father and I are gone, you and James will be the guardians of the title.”
“I wouldn't mind,” she said. “Except James is annoying.”
Aaron laughed at that, shaking his head.
“And so nothing changes,” he said. “Generations from now, Bamber and Harper cousins will be hiding each other’s hats in cabinets.”
“You did what?” Wesley said. “Wonderful, now he'll be in a foul mood all day.”
“Shall I walk you to the door?” Lola asked, and he accepted her arm, leaving Aaron alone in the dining room with Gwendolyn.
“Father,” Gwendolyn asked, continuing the conversation. “When is their baby coming?”
“What?” Aaron asked. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard Lola and you...”
“Tell no one,” Aaron said, quickly. Gwendolyn looked confused.
“Why?”
“Because Miss Lola is trying to...find out a way to surprise Earl Rippon,” he said. “And she hasn't quite figured it out yet. Promise?”
Gwendolyn shrugged.
“I guess,” she said. “But what will you give me?”
“You're a little demon,” he said. “I'll take you to market this afternoon, if you wish.”
“That will do,” she said, with a smile. He rolled his eyes. She knew how to wrap him around her little finger, that was for certain.
“I'm going to see your mother,” he said. “I'll be back, alright? Don't get into mischief.”
“Father,” she said. “I learn from the best.”
He chuckled, taking the stairs two at a time. It felt odd to be in such a good mood, knowing his cousin would likely be sentenced to his death before the week was out. That type of thought made him more grateful for his life and his health. He knew that neither would last forever, so he needed to take advantage of both while they were present.
Generations of his family had taken these steps before him, and he hoped that generations would continue to do so after he was gone. It wouldn't always be easy, but he knew that he was not the first generation to find such things difficult.
“Hello, my love,” Shauna said, when he entered their room. She was just finishing breakfast, ready to greet the day. Ever since he had been granted his freedom, his life, she was so much happier; so much more willing to smile, to take risks and laugh. “How is your morning?”
“Interesting,” he said, and came forward, laying a kiss on her lips. “How was breakfast?”
“Wonderful, as always,” she said. “Why interesting?”
“Um,” he said, and then smiled. “Never mind. We're together now, that's all that matters.”
“Indeed we are,” she said, as he folded her into his arms. “Indeed we are.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Lola was pacing when the message came. She had been expecting it for quite some time, but she didn't expect it to arrive in one packet.
India. Canada. America.
The offers were pouring in. The great Lola Montclair was currently not in a show, her theater in shambles and her heart missing the stage. Her colleagues were dead, and she alone remained the last breathing star of the great theater tragedy that had ended up saving the nation.
She needed to get out of the country, but learning she was pregnant changed everything.
“What's that?” Aaron asked, coming up behind her. She quickly pocketed them.
“Nothing. Letters of condolence,” she said quickly. He raised an eyebrow.
“You're a terrible liar, Lola, for an actress.”
“I----” she lowered h
er voice. He was already dressed to go to Gilles' hanging, which was due to take place this afternoon. His face was neutral about it, but she knew his heart was torn. “They are offers.”
“Offers for what?”
“To go away,” she said. “Take a show on tour. Get out of this country that has caused me nothing but pain of late.”
“Oh, Lola,” he said, softly. “I didn't realize that was what you wanted.”
“It wasn't...” she said. “And I don't want to be away from all of you. However, I do realize that this may be the last chance for me to go. Even if it's just a 2 month tour, a week in each location....after I have the baby...”
“Why do things have to change?” Aaron asked. “Have you talked to Wesley yet?”
“You'd be the first to know if I had,” she answered. “He doesn't know. Any of it.”
“You're not thinking of running away again, are you, Miss Lola?”
“No,” she said. “I will never be away from Wesley again, if I can help it. I'm just...”
“Be a little braver than you are afraid,” he said to her, something she often uttered herself. “Hmm?”
“Not now,” she said, crossing her arms. “Is Wesley dressed?”
“Almost,” Aaron said. “To tell you the truth, he seems rather...stoic this morning.”
“It's a hanging,” Lola said. “You both have a right to be stoic.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “But I trust in my lineage, that I have secured the Bamber title. Harold and I have given our lives to make sure we are not the last generation to walk the house. But as far as Wesley knows, Tannoy is gone and there is no heir. He has failed his father.”
“He hasn't failed his father!” Lola cried, and Aaron touched her shoulder gently.
“Regardless of how much he dislikes his father, that is how he will feel,” Aaron reminded her. “It's bred into every son of nobility to produce an heir.”
“I can't tell him,” Lola protested. “Not yet. Aaron, just give me time and I promise...”
“Are you coming?” he changed the subject, seeing that he wouldn't get too far with her now. “It's not the best place for someone...in your condition...”
How To Love A Fake Prince Page 38
