The Keeper of Her Heart

by Stacy Henrie

  I promise you that we won’t be in the slums, he’d written. That reassurance alone had brought a relieving chuckle to Ada’s lips and an end to the nightmares of living in a one-room tenement crowded with other families. We’ll find something, Ada. I have every faith we will. I love you, my darling. And that love has only grown these past few weeks.

  Recalling his words once more, Ada finally felt her heartbeat slow to normal. She had faith in Ned. He would be at their wedding next week and with her all the days after that. It was a reminder she would cling to and repeat until she was in his arms again.

  • • •

  Ned removed his worn cap from his curly brown hair as he followed the Whittingtons’ butler into the study. If he were heir to an estate—he grinned at the unlikely possibility—he’d have a study that looked just like Hugh Whittington’s.

  The desk and bookcases were made of rich, warm wood and the chairs were comfortable. Ned liked the paintings especially. One showed a restless group of hounds and horses before a fox hunt, while the eager riders sat proudly in their saddles. The other painting showed their return—the weariness of the animals and the triumph of the hunters in their mud-spattered clothes, their catch in hand.

  “Mr. Henley here to see you, sir,” the butler announced.

  Hugh stood up from behind his desk. “Ned, good to see you again.”

  “You too, sir.” He shook Hugh’s hand.

  “No need for formalities. Call me Whittington, please.” He motioned for Ned to sit, then he did the same. “Especially given that as of today you no longer work for the estate.”

  A fact that still felt as strange as it did right. His father and grandfather had both worked as gamekeepers for Whitmore House. Ned had followed in their path, certain he would live and die in the same cottage the Henleys had occupied for decades.

  That is, until he’d spoken with Ada for the first time.

  He’d been aware of her existence for some years, since the Thornes’ estate neighbored the Whittingtons’ and the two wealthy families often did things together. But when Ned had seen her at one of the shoots last year, he’d realized she was no longer a girl. She was a beautiful, confident young woman of eighteen.

  He wasn’t the only bachelor—rich or poor—who’d noticed Ada that day either. However, to his surprise, she’d hung back from the others to ask him questions. Ned found her smile and clever sense of humor charming, though he had no expectation of seeing her again after the shoot. He was astonished when Ada sought him out the next day and the next. They began meeting regularly beneath the old oak on the Stonefield estate.

  Ned didn’t like keeping their meetings a secret. He wished he could visit with Ada openly, without concern for what the other servants or her parents might say or do. The two of them weren’t doing anything wrong. But secret or not, it wasn’t long before he couldn’t imagine not seeing and speaking with Ada every day. Soon their conversations included talk of a future together. He’d taken the matter to the Lord in prayer and had felt peace about asking her to marry him. And Ada had accepted without a moment’s hesitation.

  Did she still feel that way? He shifted in the chair, his gaze on his tattered cap. It wouldn’t be the last thing he owned that was a bit shabby. In contrast, Ada had grown up with new things and nearly endless wealth.

  Her letters from Scotland had amused him with tales of her newfound skills of housekeeping and endeared her to him all the more. But would she survive a life in London? Would the independence and opportunity they sought in the city eventually strip the vitality and youthfulness from the woman he adored? If so, he would have only himself to blame.

  “When is the wedding?” Hugh asked, thankfully pulling Ned from his gloomy thoughts.

  He lifted his chin. The smile he wore was only slightly forced. “Day after tomorrow. I—we—can’t thank you enough . . . Whittington. For writing to your sister and for helping me secure a new job.” Ned cleared his throat. “I hope you don’t hold any ill will against me for leaving. I think the new gamekeeper’ll do well.”

  “I hold no ill will toward you.” Hugh’s earnest tone matched his expression. “On the contrary, I rather envy you, Henley.”

  Ned couldn’t help a startled chuckle. “What for?”

  “You have the opportunity to try your hand at something new, something your fathers before you haven’t already done for ages.” The man’s gaze moved toward the window. “I don’t know if I would have the same courage to make a fresh start like that.”

  His words surprised Ned. The Whittingtons, like the Thornes, weren’t titled, but a successful boot factory had helped the family amass a sizeable fortune. At the age of twenty, Hugh had taken over the management of both the factory and the estate when his father had died. But perhaps there’d been other things the young man had wished to do.

  “What would you do? If you could start over?” Ned asked, only a bit chagrinned at his boldness.

  Glancing back at him, Hugh drummed his fingers on the desk. He didn’t seem offended by the question, to Ned’s relief, only thoughtful. “Perhaps that is the trouble,” he said after a moment. “I do not know what I wish to do.” He smiled ruefully. “My sisters have set their course with their husbands, and Harry has always displayed a passion for the military. Whereas I, on the other hand, knew I would inherit the factory someday and so that is what I learned and focused on since I was a boy.”

  Ned could relate in a way—he’d been raised to take over for his father too. And though he liked books and working with his hands, he hadn’t expected to do much with either, except to continue caring for the game animals and the forests surrounding the estate.

  But to have a man like Hugh Whittington feeling envious of him, now that was something unfamiliar.

  “Enough about that,” Hugh said, straightening. “I asked you here so I could give you your final wages and to share some additional news I hope will be welcome to you and Ada.”

  With a nod, Ned tried to hide his surprise once more. He’d been expecting his wages, but that was all. “What sort of news?”

  “I believe it is good news. An acquaintance of mine has been heavily involved in a housing project near the Thames for the past nine years. He and others were eager to provide more suitable homes for working-class men and their families.” Hugh folded his hands on top of the desk and leaned forward. “I wrote to him a few weeks ago, inquiring if there were any vacancies in any of the houses or flats, and I heard back from him yesterday.”

  Ned could guess what the man’s answer was by the enthusiasm on Hugh’s face, but he still felt the need to ask, “Are there?”

  The possibility seemed nearly too good to be true. He’d been praying he would find a respectable place for him and Ada to live. But Ned hadn’t been able to shake his apprehension about finding a place that was decent and affordable.

  “I am pleased to report that there is a vacancy in one of the flats,” Hugh said with a smile. “Unfortunately, it only has three rooms.”

  Ned hurried to swallow a laugh when he realized Hugh believed that might be a problem. “That’ll be plenty. Thank you, Whittington. That’s more than generous of you to ask for us.”

  “My pleasure.” He stood and picked up an envelope from off the desk. “The name of my friend and the address of the flat are inside. If you would like to rent the place, you may let him know by telegram. There is a little extra in there as well, beyond your wages, to help with the first month’s rent.”

  Rising to his feet, Ned hoped to convey gratitude, even as he promptly refused the extra money. “I appreciate that, more than you know. But I can’t accept it. I earned what I earned this month and not a penny more.”

  “Your integrity and hard work are worth a few extra pounds, Henley.” Hugh extended the envelope toward him. “Please, accept it as a wedding gift.”

  Ned hesitated a moment longer, then took the envelope, knowing Hugh wasn’t likely to be persuaded otherwise. “Again, thank you.”


  “I’m grateful to be of some help.” He stuck out his hand, which Ned shook a second time. “You and Ada will both be missed around here, but I wish the two of you all the best in your marriage and in London.”

  Setting his cap on his head, Ned smiled. “We wish you the very best too.”

  He felt as if part of the weight pressing down on his shoulders the last few weeks had lifted as he saw himself out and headed down the drive for the last time. Ada would have a decent home in London. As far as the rest, he would trust in God and in his and Ada’s love to see them through.

  Chapter 2

  Staring out the train window at the greenery passing by, Ada tapped her right shoe beneath her long skirt. She released the tension in her gloved fingers, then clasped them together again to keep them still. Only a few minutes more and she would arrive at the station where Ned and his mother would be waiting for her. She already felt as if she’d been riding the train across Scotland for days instead of two hours.

  She couldn’t wait to be reunited with Ned. At the thought, her stomach filled with eager flutters. Three weeks was far too long to be apart from each other.

  The train began to slow. In contrast, Ada’s heart threaded faster. This was it. All that stood between her and Ned were a hundred yards or so of track. As the station came into view, she scooted closer to the window to see if she could see him waiting, that ready grin on his handsome face. There were more people about than she’d expected and she couldn’t see him yet.

  Once the train jolted to a stop, she grabbed her purse and stood, relieved she had no other luggage to manage in her hurry to disembark. Her trunk would be unloaded for her. Ada moved briskly down the aisle to the door of the train car. A worker assisted her down the short flight of steps. The instant her shoes hit the ground she surged forward into the milling crowd.

  She wound her way toward the station benches, doing her best to be polite even in her eagerness. However, neither Ned nor his mother was among those seated outside. Ada went inside next, but she didn’t see any familiar faces. Her enthusiasm began to sour into concern.

  “He’ll be here,” she murmured to herself as she went back outside. But the reassurance fell flat.

  Was Ned simply late? Or had he changed his mind . . . The flurries in her middle stiffened and became sinuous vines, curling and knotting tighter and tighter.

  Ada forced herself to think rationally. She would see about her trunk. The plan eased a little of the tension inside her, but not so much that she could breathe easily. She located a porter and was relieved to find that at least her trunk had ended up in the right place.

  “Where are you, Ned?” she whispered to herself as she paced beside the trunk, her purse handle choked between her hands. Now that she’d found her luggage, she didn’t wish to leave it. Surely Ned would guess that she’d be waiting for him beside her trunk.

  The train she’d disembarked from was preparing to move on now. A number of those who’d been waiting outside the station had already climbed aboard. Those who’d gotten off as she had were nearly all gone as well.

  She tried to swallow past the surge of fear that pooled in her throat. What would she do if Ned failed to show? Should she return to Hugh’s sister’s house? Or go home and beg forgiveness from her parents? Her mouth pulled tight at the latter thought. No, even if Ned had changed his mind about her, she would not go back to Stonefield Hall. If she did, she would never be able to live life on her own terms and dreams.

  Perhaps she could find employment for herself in London. She could live in the flat she and Ned had planned to rent. But oh, how empty and lonely the place would be without Ned at her side.

  Ada’s attention was drawn to a man rushing alongside the train as it began to slowly roll forward. She couldn’t see his profile since he faced the train windows. But after a moment she recognized his long gait and the cap on his head. Her anxiety became elation at once.

  “Ned!” she cried out, not caring if she drew attention to herself. Rising on tiptoe, she called his name again as she waved.

  He stopped abruptly and wheeled in her direction. When he saw her, his entire being seemed to sag with immense relief. All except his smile, which shone brighter than Ada had ever seen it.

  In several long strides, Ned reached her and crushed her to him in a fierce hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his jacket and relishing the reality of him. She never wanted to let go.

  “Our train was late. And when I didn’t see you . . .” He eased back just far enough to place a firm kiss on her lips that melted her fears.

  How could she have doubted? His love for her was as real and deep as hers for him. She wasn’t the only one sacrificing for this marriage either. Ned had given up a job he excelled at and loved to try something new, so she and their future children might have a home filled with far more than tangible things.

  “I never want to be away from you like that again,” she said as she placed her hand alongside his jaw.

  His familiar laugh washed over her with all the sweetness of coming home. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that. I was worried you’d changed your mind.”

  “I thought perhaps you had,” Ada said with a laugh that was possible now that she was no longer gripped with fear.

  “Never.” After a glance at the nearly empty station, Ned snuck another kiss. “And I say it’s past time we were married, Ada Thorne.”

  “So do I.”

  • • •

  The wedding took place in an old Scottish church that reminded Ada of the one in the parish back home. She wore the evening gown she’d brought with her from Stonefield Hall. It was a cream-colored silk charmeuse, which succeeded in highlighting her dark hair and eyes. Ned’s mother, Maud, had helped her dress that morning and surprised Ada with a small bouquet of flowers to hold.

  She and Ned had both tried persuading his mother to join them in London, but the older woman didn’t wish to live away from the family cottage or her husband’s grave. Maud reassured them that she’d be fine, even alone, though Ned insisted on continuing to give her some of his earnings to add to the stipend the Whittingtons were already paying her.

  Ada scarcely heard a word the priest spoke. She was too consumed by conflicting emotions. Marrying Ned was what she wanted to do. But her father’s predictions that she would end up penniless, haggard, and miserable repeated through her head and stoked nervousness within her in spite of her jubilation at becoming Ned’s wife.

  Somehow she managed to voice her vows at the appropriate time. Then Ned was leaning forward, her hands still cradled in his, and kissing her tenderly. The ceremony was over. When her husband stepped back, his gaze searched hers. Ada could read the question in his blue eyes as clearly as if he’d spoken it aloud.

  Did she regret what she’d just done?

  “I love you, Ned,” she murmured. Bestowing a kiss to his lips this time, she didn’t care that it might be viewed as too bold. She needed to reassure him—and herself—that they’d done the right thing.

  Ned squeezed her hand. “I love you, Ada Henley.”

  “Mmm.” She smiled fully. “I like the sound of that.”

  He laughed as he led her to where his mother sat waiting. “You look lovely, my dear,” Maud said as she stood and embraced Ada. “I doubt there’s a more beautiful bride in all of Scotland.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Henley.”

  The woman’s heartfelt compliment brought tears swimming in Ada’s eyes. They were as much from happiness as grief. Growing up, she’d always imagined her parents and her grandmother in attendance at her wedding, hugging and congratulating her. Their absence today, though expected, still made her heart ache with longing.

  At least her grandmother hadn’t condemned her for her choice to marry Ned. Lucille Devon had replied to both the letters Ada had sent her from Scotland. I will not pretend to understand what you are doing, Ada, she’d written. But I hope you will continue to write me regularly. I could not
bear losing touch with my granddaughter.

  “Ready for our delicious wedding luncheon?” Ned asked.

  In truth, they would be eating another meal at the inn where they were staying. The teasing question succeeded in pulling Ada’s thoughts to the present. She linked her arm through his, grateful and amazed to know they were truly married now. One look at his warm smile soothed her grief. There may be those who were not here with them, but she would not let that spoil this joyous day.

  • • •

  Four days later

  Wrapping her arm around Ned, Ada pressed her cheek to the back of his nightshirt. She didn’t think she’d ever tire of the sense of security she felt lying close beside him.

  “Can’t sleep?” he murmured. His fingers twined with hers where they rested against his chest.

  She shut her tired eyes. “No.”

  Tomorrow they would leave Scotland, and their short honeymoon, for London. What awaited them there? Ada wondered for the umpteenth time. The possible answers brought a mixture of excitement and trepidation that kept sleep at bay.

  There was still so much that was unknown. She’d never been to London, and Ned had been only once for his interview at the printers. Most of her life Ada had believed her first trip to the city would be for her debut season. And yet she felt no loss at trading lavish gowns and social events for a humble life and modest abode with the man she loved.

  “I can’t settle my thoughts,” she admitted, opening her eyes.

  “About?”

  “London, the flat, your job.”

  Ned shifted and rolled onto his side to face her, wide awake now. “I’ll take care of you, Ada.” His low voice rang with conviction. “Just as I promised you and God at our wedding.”