“When she would go outside,” Mrs. C said, “her father would give her an old woolen cloak to wear, the one he’d kept from his military days. So she wouldn’t get cold or damp.”
“I remember that so well,” Georgie said in a soft voice. She’d loved that cloak. The rough wool had scratched like anything, but the garment had enveloped her like her father’s embrace—warm, sturdy, and with the scents of bay rum and snuff.
“You would roll yourself up in it and lie out on that little patch of lawn between the flowerbeds, staring up at the night sky.”
“I remember that too,” said Bertie in a rueful voice. “I was always afraid Georgie would catch a chill, but Father told me not to fuss about it.”
“And I never did catch a cold, did I?” Georgie said with a cheeky smile for her big brother.
“That’s because you were wrapped in your father’s cloak to keep you safe,” Mrs. C said. “But you didn’t just dream about travel to exotic places, did you? You dreamed about other things, a little closer to home.”
Georgie nodded, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I dreamed about falling in love with a tall, handsome man, who would go on adventures with me. But also a man who would sit by the fire on a cold winter’s evening, telling stories to our children and reading to them from all the books that I loved.”
Like her father had read stories to her when she was a child, and like Bertie—who’d read story after story aloud to her when she was sick and confined to bed for week after long week. Truly, all Georgie had ever wanted was a family and place of her own to call home. Like the one she’d had all her life, she now realized, thanks to the people who’d loved and cherished her.
Fergus slipped his hand into hers. “And you have found all those things with me, love. I promise.” Georgie smiled at him as she blinked away happy tears.
“He’s certainly tall, but I don’t know about the handsome part,” Bertie said.
They all laughingly protested his jest, but Georgie wasn’t fooled. She’d heard the catch in her brother’s voice and saw him surreptitiously rub his eye, as if he’d gotten a cinder in it.
“Bertie, that’s dreadfully rude,” Eliza said. “And it’s a lovely present. Georgie can wrap herself up at night and gaze at the Scottish sky, dreaming even bigger dreams. But I still don’t understand why you made the cloak so big, Mrs. Clotworthy. Georgie will be all but swallowed up in it.”
“Because it’s not just for Georgie,” Mrs. C said. “Two people can wrap up in it and gaze at the stars together. Georgie and Fergus can even use it in the summertime, for picnics. It’s quite enormous when you lay it out flat. There’s plenty of room for a basket, and perhaps a baby or two.”
Georgie was afraid she would turn into a veritable watering pot before the evening was out. But the picture was already so vivid in her mind—she and Fergus sitting on the blanket on a beautiful summer day in the Highlands, with a beautiful, red-haired baby lying between them.
She slipped her hand into Mrs. C’s plump, comforting clasp. “It’s the best present anyone has ever made for me. I don’t know how you knew, but it’s perfect.”
The older woman’s eyes shone with love. “I knew you thought you would never find your happiness, my dear. You and your brother lost so much, and you both endured a great deal of pain and sorrow. It made it hard for you to believe that you could ever be lucky enough to fall in love and have that love returned.”
Georgie glanced at her brother. Bertie smiled at her, a smile that spoke of the bond they’d shared, the one that had kept them going when the world was dark and sad. For so long it had just been the three of them—Bertie, Georgie, and the kind woman who’d mothered them both.
Mrs. C squeezed her hand. “Yet I always knew you would find your happiness. You have the most generous soul in the world. From the very beginning, you were the heart of this family. There was never a question that someone would love you—it was only a matter of who and when.”
Fergus pulled out a handkerchief for Georgie while Bertie did the same for his wife. “I knew this would come in handy at some point,” Fergus said.
Georgie managed a watery giggle. After blowing her nose, she stood and gave Mrs. C a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re coming to Scotland with us.”
“Of course, dear.” She patted Georgie’s back. “Where else would I go?”
“You must come back to the Friar’s House soon and often,” Bertie said. “Don’t know what I’ll do without you to keep me on the straight and narrow, Mrs. Clotworthy.”
“You have a wife to do that for you now,” Mrs. C said. “And Georgie might need me. After all, I’ve read that the Highlands can be quite wild.”
Fergus barely choked back a laugh.
Mrs. C was convinced that Scotland was a savage, even dangerous place, and nothing that Fergus had told her about the modern conveniences of Haddon House and Blairgal Castle had made a dent. It was all rather silly, but Georgie knew that Mrs. C had been watching out for her too long to give up the habit. And it was a comfort to know that she would be going with her to Scotland. As exciting at this new adventure was, Georgie was grateful to have so important a part of her old life incorporated into it.
“It’s going to be a grand adventure, I promise. For all of us,” Fergus said as he gently tugged Georgie down next to him. Then he leaned in close. “And I can think of another adventure to go on, right about now.”
His velvety-dark burr made her shiver with anticipation. “Fergus, I do hope you’re not going to say something shocking,” she whispered back. “Not in front of my relatives.”
“Mrs. Haddon, how can you even suggest such a thing? You know I’m as dour a Scot as ever walked the earth.”
“You’re nothing of the sort,” she said. “You just like to pretend you are.”
He tipped her chin up and gave her a quick kiss. “Well then, in the interest of showing you what a dashing and adventurous fellow I am, I suggest that we visit the terrace for a little stargazing before we go upstairs. The sky is clear as crystal tonight and very beautiful.”
“That’s sound lovely,” Georgie replied. “But with the snow, won’t it be messy?”
“The terrace and benches have been swept clean. You can sit on my lap, and we can wrap the cloak around ourselves, gaze up at the stars, and start dreaming about our new life. Much like you did when you were a little girl.”
She smiled as he pulled her up. “I don’t have to dream it anymore. I’m living it.”
Bertie gave his wife an appraising look. “I’ve got my old army cloak stashed away somewhere. We could dig it out and go look at the stars, too.” He flashed Fergus a grin. “But not on the terrace.”
“We could go up on the priory roof from the north wing,” Eliza said. “It’s quite sheltered on that part of the house.”
“Splendid,” Bertie said. Then he cast a worried glance at Mrs. C, who’d returned to her chair. “You don’t mind us all hiking off, do you?”
“Not at all, my dears,” she said, reaching for her knitting basket. “I’m already working on some new projects.”
“Oh?” Georgie asked. “May I ask what they are?”
“Baby blankets,” the older woman said calmly. “Lots of baby blankets.”
“Oh, uh, capital notion,” Bertie said in a faint voice, as if envisioning dozens of blankets in ghastly colors. Eliza covered her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.
“Honestly, that woman is brilliant,” Fergus murmured in Georgie’s ear. “Why don’t we get started on our end of the project right now?”
Georgie laughed. “I think that’s a splendid idea.” She picked up her new cloak and took her husband’s hand. They walked out to the terrace and into their new life.
The End
About Vanessa Kelly
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Vanessa Kelly is an award-winning author who was named by Booklist, the review journal of the American Library Association, as one of the "New Stars of Historical Romance." Her sensual, R
egency-set historical romances have been nominated for awards in numerous contests, and her second book,Sex and The Single Earl, won the prestigious Maggie Medallion for Best Historical Romance. Vanessa's current series, The Renegade Royals, is a national bestseller. When she's not dreaming up plots for her next Regency historical novel, Vanessa is writing USA Today Bestselling contemporary romance with her husband under the pen name of V.K. Sykes.
Want to find out more about Vanessa’s books? Visit her website at http://www.vanessakellyauthor.com
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Books by Vanessa Kelly
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The Improper Princesses
My Fair Princess (September 2016)
The Renegade Royals
Lost in a Royal Kiss
Secrets for Seducing a Royal Bodyguard
Confessions of a Royal Bridegroom
Tall, Dark, and Royal
How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy
How to Marry a Royal Highlander
The Season for Loving
The Stanton Family
Mastering The Marquess
Sex and the Single Earl
My Favorite Countess
His Mistletoe Bride
A Gentleman For All Seasons Page 35
