by Wolf, Bree
Nessa shrugged. “I do not know.”
Perhaps it had been no single moment that had finally convinced her. Perhaps it had been the accumulated sum of them. Her husband’s patience and kindness. The way he always looked at her as though everything else faded into the background whenever she stepped into a room. The many times he’d told her he loved her. His honesty about his doubts and fears and weaknesses. The ball he had planned as a surprise for her. The choice he had given her. The questions he had asked, urging her to find her own answers. The fact that he had urged her to believe in herself, to trust in herself.
It had been all that and more.
Nessa’s body still warmed at the thought of how he had taken her in his arms the other day in her bedchamber. Arms that felt safe and familiar. She had sunk into them, wishing for nothing more but to feel, to be reminded of what she had lost.
Of what she could regain.
“I’m so happy for you,” Connie said in answer to the joy that stood on Nessa’s face. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve to be happy and in love.”
Nessa nodded. “A part of me still cannot believe that it’s true, but the more I say the words the more they feel right.” She sighed. “I love him.”
“Have you told him?”
Remembering the intimate encounter with her husband a few days past, Nessa nodded, glancing at the ground before she looked up at her cousin. “I have,” she whispered, unable to keep the grin off her face.
Connie chuckled. “I see. I suppose he is beyond himself with happiness as well.”
“I think he is.” Nessa sighed, remembering the slight tension that held him whenever their paths had crossed since. “But I think a part of him still does not believe that it’s true. I think a part of him still fears that I did not mean what I said. That I said it only to please him.”
“Give him time,” Connie counseled, pulling Nessa’s arm through the crook of her own. “He’ll come around. This has been a hard time for him as well. When he lost you, it broke his heart and I think he knows that he is not strong enough to suffer through that a second time. So he’s careful.”
“I know how that feels.”
“Let’s go and see if the girls left us any lemon cake,” Connie suggested, striding toward the small cluster of trees where their daughters’ fortress was hidden. “I could do with a bite.”
Smiling, Nessa went along, reminding herself how fortunate she truly was. For all intents and purposes, they ought to have lost each other three years ago. For good.
But they hadn’t. Nessa had not died that day. She’d merely been…lost. But now, she had returned home, and her family had embraced her with open arms. What more could she ask for?
Later that day when she tucked her daughter into bed, Nessa glanced around the brightly furnished room and saw all the signs of a peaceful childhood. A part of her still mourned the years they’d lost and the pain her daughter had suffered, but Nessa was determined to look ahead and not waste any more days with regret. “Which story would you like to hear?”
“The one about the boy who wants to travel to the moon,” Milly exclaimed as she snuggled into bed, her hazel eyes bright and full of the day’s excitement. Still, exhaustion tugged on her, and her lids closed for a brief moment when her head came to rest on the soft pillow.
Finding the book her daughter had requested, Nessa settled into the upholstered rocking chair by the window. Then she opened the book, her gaze settling on the page as the setting sun’s warm glow filled the room with peace.
“No, here,” Milly mumbled, her eyes already half-closed as she scooted to the right side of her bed, patting the other with her hand. “Sit with me.”
Smiling, Nessa rose from the chair and her feet carried her to her daughter’s side with an eagerness that spoke of a deep desire to be close. With a sigh, she sank onto the mattress as Milly lifted the blanket, then draped the end over Nessa’s lap, a moment later followed by the girl’s little head. “Read,” Milly insisted as she snuggled closer.
Opening the book, Nessa began to read the story about a little boy who set forth to travel to the moon. Unfortunately, with each step he took, he did not appear to get any closer. The moon was still as far away as it always had been. For a moment, the boy was overwhelmed by sadness and shed many a tear before he came to realize that the moon’s beautiful light was enough in itself. The boy then knew that he ought to be happy with what he had and not forever mourn that which was out of his reach.
Looking down at her slumbering daughter, Nessa closed the book and set it on the small table beside the bed. Gently, she brushed the girl’s wild curls behind her ear and was rewarded with a gentle smile as it fluttered across Milly’s face. A deep sigh of contentment left the girl’s lips and she snuggled closer, her hands curled into Nessa’s skirts.
Sitting back against the pillows, Nessa brushed a hand over Milly’s head, feeling the warmth of her little body as it snuggled against hers. After a while, Nessa’s eyes closed as well and she felt herself drift off when a soft melody began to fill her head. At first, it was only a note or two before she was able to hum along to the melody as it drifted lazily through the nursery.
Feelings of love and devotion rushed to Nessa’s heart at the sound, and she heard the faint echo of laughter and giggles in her ear. Images too blurry and unfocused to identify drifted before her eyes, and her mind reached out to grasp them, curious to know what they were.
Milly sighed in her sleep, and Nessa’s eyes opened. Once again, a small smile danced over her daughter’s face before her little mouth opened. “Mamma.”
Staring down at the sleeping child, Nessa felt the air knocked from her lungs and tears pool in her eyes.
Always had Milly called her Nessa, and since Nessa had never known it to be different, she hadn’t thought much of it at the time. At one point, Grant had expressed his regret that Milly would call her by her given name. Nessa, however, had waved his concern away, knowing only too well that she was essentially a stranger to the little girl. She had been grateful that Milly had warmed to her so quickly and wouldn’t have dreamed of pushing her daughter to give more than she could.
Mamma.
That one word had changed everything.
Where before Nessa had felt content, she now realized how much she had longed to hear her daughter call her Mamma. Had it been the melody? Nessa mused, trying to remember it, but it slipped away, elusive like the memories it had hinted at.
Nessa brushed a hand over her daughter’s head and hugged her close as silent tears rolled down her cheeks and fell onto the girl’s light brown curls, shining golden in the sun’s last rays. Deep down, Nessa knew that it had been a memory of a shared moment that had surfaced. A memory that not only she remembered, but Milly as well.
Never in her life had Nessa been granted a more precious gift.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A Ball at Wentford Park
By the time the day of the ball arrived, Grant could have sworn that he was the happiest man in all of England.
Over the past sennight, it was as though his old life had reawakened. Although a part of him could not help but feel apprehensive, afraid to trust in his good fortune, with every day that passed Grant began to feel more at ease, allowing himself to believe that he was not dreaming, but wide awake after all.
Whenever his gaze met Nessa’s, he could swear there was a clap of thunder in the air and sparks flew in all directions, lighting up her beautiful warm eyes as they looked into his own. The smile that drew up the corners of her lips made him weak in the knees, and whenever she found a reason to roll her eyes at him, Grant could not help but pull her into his arms and kiss her breathless.
At first, Nessa had been confused by his reaction. However, with each day that passed, she seemed to sense that a part of her, deep down, had returned to the life they’d shared before. Nessa was who she had always been, whether she remembered or not.
Everything felt famil
iar as though no time had passed. As though the past three years had been nothing but a bad dream.
The first morning when Milly had called Nessa Mamma, Grant nearly fainted.
Jerking up his head, he had stared at Nessa, seeing her eyes shining with tears. And yet, there had been no surprise on her face as she had smiled first at their daughter and then at him. Something had happened, Grant was certain of it. He didn’t dare ask for, deep down, he knew it was something between mother and daughter. A moment that was only theirs, and he wouldn’t dream of taking that away from them.
Not in a long time had Grant seen Milly this carefree and happy, her joy not overshadowed by the pain in her past. She laughed and giggled and flew through the house like a butterfly, her wings spread to soar to new heights. Audrey more often than not was only a step behind her, and the house echoed with their youthful adventures from sunup to sundown.
Grant couldn’t have been happier, and neither could the rest of his family.
Except for his mother, perhaps.
While he was grateful that his mother had not breathed a word about Eugenie’s pregnancy to Nessa, Grant regretted that she still seemed determined to cling to life’s restrictions, denying herself the same joy he saw on each and every other face.
“How can you permit her, Wentford?” she huffed when Milly and Audrey raced through the drawing room and out onto the terrace, their skirts lifted to their knees so they could run faster. “It’s most scandalous!”
“They’re six years old,” Grant counseled, glancing around their little circle as they were enjoying their afternoon tea. “There’ll be time enough yet to learn proper behavior.”
“I strongly disagree,” his mother countered, the expression on her face growing haughtier by the second. “If you allow her to run wild, she’ll be the talk of the ton! And not in a good way, mind you!”
Maynard snickered as he shared a look with Nessa. “She’s happy,” he stated as his gaze swung around and met the dowager’s. “How can happiness ever be wrong?”
Grant saw his mother’s lips thin. “I never said that happiness is wrong,” she corrected. “However, there are more appropriate ways of expressing it.” Since no one seemed to agree with her assessment, she soon took her leave. Grant could not deny that he preferred it that way. After all, it was only his mother these days who put a damper on their happiness.
And after the past three years, Grant was unwilling to let any little bit of it slip through his fingers.
The night of the ball, Nessa clung to his arm in a way that made him wonder whether or not it had been a good idea to invite his neighbors. Still, he needed her to know that she was not a secret he would hide, but wanted to share with all the world. While their neighbors tended to be a nosey lot, they were good people whose company they’d enjoyed before the accident had changed their lives in a way they hadn’t been able to recover from.
He hadn’t been able to recover from.
However, now, life felt as wonderful as it always had, and Grant was proud to reintroduce his wife to their small circle of friends and acquaintances.
Dressed in a stunning lavender gown, Nessa stood beside him, her hazel eyes shining in the candlelight as she exchanged a kind word with people who—to her own knowledge—she had never met before. At first, the situation felt a bit awkward as their guests watched her with hawk-like expressions on their faces. However, Nessa’s natural charm and openness soon eased the tensions. Before long, laughter echoed through the large room, mingling with the soft notes of the music drifting over from where the small orchestra had set up.
In the end, everyone had to admit that it was a marvelous evening, and Grant enjoyed nothing more than to look at his darling wife and see her as he’d always seen her. A woman so bewitching he could never have not loved her.
“And you say we met at a ball like this one?” she asked him, a wicked sparkle in her eyes as they watched their friends and neighbors dance the night away.
Grant smiled. “It was in London and a much bigger affair, but yes.”
“And yet you noticed me?” A question more than the mere logistics of that night rang in her voice, and Grant wondered if, perhaps, he was not the only one who feared he might have strayed into a dream and was afraid to awaken any moment.
Reaching for her hand, Grant drew her toward him, and his gaze held hers as he leaned closer. “The moment I saw you,” he whispered, feeling a slight shiver run over her as she rested one hand on his arm, “I was lost.” He sighed as his hand tightened on hers. “And every moment since, every moment without you has been a wasted moment.” He swallowed, seeing tears glisten in her eyes as she looked at him the way she always had. “I don’t want to waste another minute. I want you. I want a life with you. Forever.”
Nodding, Nessa smiled at him, dabbing the tip of her finger to the corner of her left eye where a tear threatened to escape. “I want you, too,” she whispered, leaning closer until he could feel her warmth through the layers of fabric between them.
“I don’t ever want to be without you again,” Grant told her, feeling reminded of the day they had exchanged their wedding vows. “Will you be my wife? For now and forever?” Holding his breath, he watched her, his pulse beating as rapidly as it had the first time he had asked her to marry him. Perhaps even more so.
For a moment, her teeth sank into her lower lip as she looked at him. Then her lids began to flutter rapidly as a smile lit up her face. “I do,” she whispered, emotions choking her voice before she flung herself into his arms.
Crushing her in a tight embrace, Grant barely heard the cheers around them as their friends and neighbors stopped to watch the moment Lord and Lady Wentford finally found their way back to each other.
Of course, no one except the two of them knew all that had happened, and yet, Grant knew of the many whispers that had circulated after Nessa’s return had become known and Eugenie had left Wentford Park. How could people not whisper? After all, it was far from an everyday situation, and Grant bet that many wondered what it would have been like to find themselves in Nessa’s or even Eugenie’s shoes. Still, the past was the past, and he was happy to see that tonight everyone could join in their joy and celebrate their new beginning.
“You look exceedingly happy, dear cousin.”
At the sound of Pierce’s voice, Grant released Nessa from his embrace, but kept his arm firmly around her waist. There’d be time to celebrate their reunion later.
In private.
Clearing his throat, Grant greeted his cousin as well as the man’s wife before he took note of his aunt Theodora, who stepped forward in that moment with an expression on her face that she could have stolen from Grant’s mother. He could not help but wonder how two women so much alike could not find a way to get along with one another.
“It is a pleasure to meet you…again,” Pierce told Nessa, his blue eyes sparkling with joy as he looked at them. “I must say I’ve never seen Grant happier than he looks tonight. You’ve worked wonders, my lady.”
Nessa laughed. “So I’m told. But pray tell, was he not equally happy before my…unfortunate disappearance?” Her brows rose as she looked from his cousin to him, a teasing gleam in them.
Pierce laughed. “I see you’ve retained your old wit. Well, my lady, I cannot help but observe that there seems to be an extra sparkle in his eyes tonight.”
His wife Elizabeth smiled. “I assume that is because he now knows what his life looks like without you,” she told Nessa, leaning forward confidently. “Mark my words. He will never take you for granted now.”
Nessa laughed, and Grant drew in a relieved breath at seeing her so at ease. “So would you suggest that a temporary disappearance would teach any husband who takes his wife for granted a good lesson?”
Elizabeth grinned before exchanging a meaningful look with her husband. “An interesting thought, I must say.”
Pierce feigned shock. “You cannot be so cruel as to consider this, my dear. How would I surv
ive without you?”
Pulling Nessa tighter into his arms, Grant was grateful for the light words exchanged. Still, the thought of ever being without his wife again still sent cold shivers down his spine, and he didn’t dare dwell on the thought for long. “How are your boys?” he asked instead, steering the conversation to safer ground.
Or so he thought.
“Oh, they’re wonderful,” Aunt Theodora piped up immediately. “Such delightful boys. They truly do their father justice.” Her voice rang loudly, and Grant noticed his mother’s face turn deep red as she pretended not to hear from where she stood speaking to Lady Rosen. “If only you had one of your o—”
“Not a word, Mother!” Pierce snapped, his laughing blue eyes suddenly narrowed as he glared at her. “Not a word.”
Rolling her eyes, Aunt Theodora shrugged and then marched off, no doubt in search of another way to rub Grant’s mother’s nose in the fact that she possessed three grandsons while the Dowager Countess of Wentford did not have a single one.
Still, Grant could not bring himself to care. With everything that had happened lately, he knew more than ever that he ought to count his blessings and not focus only on what was not to be. After all, he had a wonderful daughter, and he could not imagine life without her.
“I’m pleased to hear it,” Nessa said, picking up the conversation once again. “I’d love to meet them.”
Pierce laughed. “If you don’t mind three rascals turning your home upside down, we’ll bring them on our next visit.”
Exchanging a look with his wife, Grant returned his cousin’s good-natured chuckle. “Well, at present, we already have two of those under this roof. I don’t think three more will be all that different. By all means, bring them and we shall see if the house still stands by the time you leave.”
More laughter echoed through the room as Grant pictured the future that lay ahead. He saw family dinners and picnics in the gardens. He saw smiling children and heard their laughter echo through the house. He saw Nessa by his side and their family around them, and his heart warmed at the mere thought alone.
