0373298811 (R)

by Ann Lethbridge

  Blade held out his arm. ‘Would you care to walk?’

  She accepted with a smile, tucking her arm beneath his elbow.

  The footman hesitated, not sure which of his party he was supposed to guard, but a glower from Blade had him deciding to stay put.

  ‘Why did Tommy say that?’ Blade demanded, sounding so grumpy and put upon, she had the urge to laugh when saying goodbye was no laughing matter. She patted his gloved hand where it rested on top of hers as if he feared she might run.

  ‘We clearly were not as discreet as we thought. Children hear things and see things and draw their own slanted conclusions about a world that, to their eyes, revolves around them.’

  He grunted as if considering her words and glanced over his shoulder with a puzzled frown. ‘I am glad I ran into you today,’ he said when they were out of earshot.

  ‘We come here every day.’ She frowned. ‘You planned this meeting?’

  He looked a little shamefaced. ‘Tonbridge mentioned that you came here each morning.’

  She glanced back to where his brother was handing lumps of bread up to Thomas. Had he planned that, too? In order to speak to her alone. Her heart thumped harder in her chest. ‘Your brother seems sorry to see you go.’

  He shrugged. ‘He is sorry I have refused to take the employment my father is offering. It means more work for him.’

  There was an edge to his words she could not quite understand. She frowned. ‘You dislike your brother?’

  ‘Half-brother. We have different mothers. You know this.’

  ‘He does not make the distinction. And you did not answer my question.’

  Blade stopped and stared into the pond’s murky water. ‘I like him well enough, but...’

  ‘But?’ she prompted, watching a little moorhen dabbling its red beak among the reeds along the bank.

  ‘I invaded their home and he didn’t like it. Father told him that I was a duty and a responsibility there was no getting around.’ He swished at the rushes with his riding crop, sending the moorhen off with a startled squawk and a splash. ‘I didn’t need their charity then and I don’t need it now.’

  ‘Something you overheard?’ she guessed.

  ‘I was outside the library window. Victor and I had fought over who would ride the pony first.’ He grimaced. ‘It was his pony, but I was bigger and stronger.’

  ‘So a fight between two annoying little boys. One trying to find his way in a new home, the other trying to find a new place for himself with the arrival of an older brother. And a papa trying to keep the peace.’

  He looked at her askance and started walking again.

  Caro glanced back to where Duvane was showing Tommy how to skip stones across the pond. ‘It is not easy raising children. One never knows if one is making the right decisions.’

  ‘You were right to keep Tommy with you.’

  A small smile curved her lips, but there was an ache in her chest. ‘I have you to thank for that piece of advice. Tommy and I will remain together until he is old enough to go to school. I have explained to him about his father. He will understand better when he is older.’

  ‘You are happy.’ He sounded pleased, but there was something else in his eyes, something watchful.

  ‘I am content.’ It was all she could expect, really. She certainly wasn’t going to marry when her heart belonged to a man who didn’t want her. But nor was she going to go into a decline. She had her son. She had security. What more could she need?

  Suddenly she could not stand all this polite conversation. It was hurting too much to pretend that all between them was well. ‘It was very kind of you to come to say goodbye to Tommy, Blade. I really think we should be getting back.’

  ‘I—’ He took a deep breath and stopped walking, looking into her eyes. ‘Actually, I wanted to speak to you about something else. About what you said the other night.’

  Her chest felt tight. Was he going to take her to task for her foolish declaration? Warn her for her own good, as the Thorntons had done? If so...

  ‘Caro, I do care for you. A great deal.’

  Caring wasn’t enough. ‘You are going to request my friendship. I understand. I will be your friend. Please, let us go back.’ She tried to walk on, but he held her back.

  ‘That is not what I intended to say.’ He glanced across to where the footman hovered, clearly trying to keep both parties in sight, and led her towards a willow tree overhanging the bank.

  When they were obscured from view, he took her left hand in his right and stroked her palm with his thumb, sending fiery little tingles down her back. Eyes wide, she stared at him. ‘Blade, you are scaring me. What is wrong?’

  His expression tightened, but he did not release her hand. ‘I’ve spent my life expecting those I—I love to turn their backs on me. I learned not to care. To always leave first. It hurt less.’

  Her insides melted, he looked so wounded. ‘Oh, Blade,’ she whispered, her heart in her throat.

  ‘The other night, when you said you would never abandon me...’ He shook his head and swallowed. ‘I believed you. You have proved your loyalty to those you love, over and over again.’ He swallowed. ‘Old habits die hard, Caro. I couldn’t make myself speak. I do love you. I always will.’

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. ‘But?’

  ‘I will understand if I’ve spoken too late. I understand if you have already accepted another offer. I had to tell you, that was all. I love you.’

  ‘Then why are you leaving?’

  ‘I’m not sure I know any longer.’

  He sounded so hopelessly lost tears welled in her eyes. ‘Then don’t go. I love you. Tommy loves you. Stay.’

  ‘Darling. My dearest love.’ His voice was husky and broke a little on a laugh. ‘You won’t ever leave me?’

  ‘Not if wild horses tried to drag me off.’

  He brought her hand to his lips with a tender smile on his face. ‘Dearest Caro. You give me such courage. Will you marry me?’

  Her heart tumbled over. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  When they finally broke apart, he was looking at her quizzically. ‘Caro, will you?’

  She had answered, hadn’t she? Not in words, no, but in her actions. Laughter, love and all kinds of emotions bubbled up in her. ‘Yes, you idiotic man, of course, yes.’

  He breathed a long sigh of relief and kissed her again, deeply, seductively. Finally, they took a breath and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  ‘We should go and tell Tommy I will be his papa after all. I hope the Thorntons aren’t going to cut up rough.’

  ‘Tommy will deal with them. They were so relieved when I said he and I would move to the dower house.’

  He grinned. ‘They find him hard to handle.’

  ‘As a barrel full of monkeys.’

  He laughed out loud. ‘Come, let him be the first to hear our news.’

  ‘Him and your brother, who is deserving of sainthood after all this time.’

  ‘Victor is all right. He’s used to young children. The countess and the earl have quite a few.’

  Arm in arm, they returned to the path, strolling in perfect harmony.

  ‘Oh, hell,’ Blade said. ‘I beg your pardon, Caro, but it seems we are about to run into Hartwick and the countess.’ He glanced back to where his brother was now playing ball with Tommy. Cricket with crutches, if Caro wasn’t mistaken. ‘The devil. No wonder he was hell-bent on coming with me. And I thought it was to help with Tommy.’

  * * *

  Now Blade knew why he had always preferred being an only child. Less people to interfere with his business. Friends were bad enough.

  A few yards away from them, his father lifted his silver-topped walking stick in greeting as if Blade might not have s
een him. Or perhaps—Blade felt a stab of guilt—the old fellow thought Blade would simply pass him by. For the first time in an age he looked at his father. Really looked at him. When had he become so old, so bowed down? And when had the countess’s golden hair acquired so much silver? Regret at lost years caused his gut to clench.

  As they came abreast of each other, Blade bowed. ‘My lord,’ he said. ‘My lady. You know Mrs Falkner, of course. You met at Tonbridge’s the other evening.’

  Caro curtsied.

  His father bowed. The countess held out her hand and Caro shook it.

  ‘How lovely to meet you again, Mrs Falkner.’ The countess tucked Caro’s hand beneath her arm and turned and walked with her. Gritting his teeth, Blade followed at his father’s side.

  ‘Was there something you wanted, sir?’ he asked after a moment or two of silence. ‘I cannot believe your presence here is a coincidence.’ Any more than his had been.

  His father harrumphed like a schoolmaster about to deliver a lecture on manners. ‘I won’t have you haring off to join some foreign army. Nor will your mama.’

  ‘Stepmama.’ The word came automatically. Then his brain caught up with the meaning. He stiffened. ‘I don’t see—’

  The old gentleman stabbed his cane at an unfortunate dandelion. ‘I know, it is none of my business. Or so you think, but hear me out, my son. I heard back from a friend at Horse Guards. Tried to turn ’em back, did you?’

  Chill ran in Blade’s veins. ‘Unsuccessfully, I am afraid,’ he said, trying not to sound defiant. He’d beaten a couple of the militia with the flat of his sword, trying to stop them charging into the crowd at St Peter’s Field. He could have been court-martialled and shot for that alone.

  ‘Damned fools should have listened.’

  Blade’s jaw dropped. ‘My commanding officer did not see it that way.’

  ‘As I said, damned fools. The lot of ’em. And so I told Arthur. He’s agreed to tear up your resignation, if that’s what you want.’

  His stepmother turned around and shot a glare at her husband. ‘Jemmy, that is not why we came here today. Get on with it, do.’

  His father waved his stick at a pair of benches. ‘Sit down with me, my son. I have something important to tell you.’

  Caro looked at him with eyebrows raised and he shook his head. He wanted to hear what his father had to say before broaching their news. He and his father took one bench, Caro and the countess the other.

  His father pulled something from the inside pocket of his coat. He thrust it at Blade. ‘A letter. From your mother.’

  Blade blinked and looked over at the countess.

  ‘Your mother, Blade,’ his father said.

  Blade sagged back against the seat. ‘What? You’ve known where she is all these years and never seen fit to tell me?’

  His father put a hand on his arm. ‘Not is, my boy.’ His voice thickened. ‘She died a year or so after you came to us. Consumption. She knew she had it. That was why she sent for me. I promise you she was well looked after throughout. The countess and I made sure of it.’

  ‘You and the countess?’ He could not keep the incredulity from his voice. Or the grief from burning in his throat.

  ‘Me and your stepmama, if you must be formal.’ The earl showed the mettle of a man used to ordering his life the way he wanted it. ‘I’d have done more, had she allowed.’

  ‘She sent for you to fetch me because she was ill?’ Anger coursed through his veins. ‘I would have cared for her.’

  ‘She didn’t want you seeing her suffer,’ his father said grimly. ‘Her mother died of it. She knew what was going to happen.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘It wasn’t only that. There was a man who used to visit her. A friend, she thought. She caught him dandling you on his knee and—’ He cursed softly. ‘I assume I do not need to draw a picture? Naturally, she threw him out, but she was terrified. He was a powerful man. She had no choice but to send you to me.’

  He gazed at the toes of his shoes. ‘I was furious she’d kept me from you all those years. And I was right. It was too late. You never took to us, did you?’ He sounded disappointed. He had always sounded disappointed. Blade had always thought it was because he was lacking.

  Pain blocked his throat. ‘You should have told me.’

  ‘I couldn’t. She made me swear.’ His voice was thick. He swiped at his eyes. ‘Believe me, boy. Don’t you think I would have married her, if I had known she had conceived? It would have been a scandal, but I wouldn’t have cared.’

  Blade pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to his father. ‘You couldn’t have married her. She was a courtesan.’

  ‘That was what she said. Puppy love, she called it, and she was right. But I was devilish fond of her all the same. I would have done my duty.’

  Blade glanced over at the countess. ‘And lost out on the love of your life.’

  ‘When did you become so understanding?’ his father said gruffly.

  He patted his father’s arm and smiled. ‘When I fell in love.’

  The earl gestured at the letter Blade had placed on the bench between them. ‘She wanted you to have that when I thought you were ready. Your stepmama has been after me to pass it on for years, but—’ He gripped his walking cane more firmly. ‘I worried you might leave us, if you knew she was alive, and then I thought perhaps it was best if it was all forgotten. You were doing so well in the army. After Waterloo, I thought it might be too much to bear.’

  Blade had been in poor shape, grieving the loss of his fellows and his hand. ‘You thought it might be the last straw.’

  ‘Something like that. Your mother—’ he winced ‘—your stepmother says it’s time for a new start. A new understanding.’

  He used the head of his cane to push himself to his feet. ‘Read it. I don’t know what it says and I don’t want to, but believe that she cared for you, my boy. She cared more than life itself.’

  Blade stared at the letter. At the handwriting, so prettily formed. Bladen Jeremiah Read.

  When he looked up, his father and the countess had already walked a fair distance and Caro was standing in front of him. Waiting.

  ‘Do you want me to leave you?’ she asked softly.

  ‘God, no.’

  ‘Will you read it?’

  ‘The countess told you?’

  ‘She did.’ She sat down and rested her cheek on his shoulder. The comfort of it unmanned him.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat and crushed the letter in his fist. ‘I’m not sure I want to do this.’

  ‘You need to,’ she said softly.

  His hand was trembling too much for him to break the seal and hold on to the paper. ‘Open it. Please.’

  She took it and unfolded it.

  Blast. The wind was making his eyes water. This was ridiculous. All over a stupid letter from a dead woman, when he hadn’t even heard what she’d written. Just knowing, though, that she had not forgotten... ‘Will you read it? Please.’

  She opened her reticule and handed him a handkerchief. ‘It is yours. I want it back.’ She began reading.

  ‘My dearest darling little gentleman, best of all sons,

  You cannot imagine with what trepidation I write this note. I leave it to your father, dear man, to judge when the right time would be for you to receive this, or rather to his lady. She has been kindness itself, promising to bring you up as her own. And so understanding, given your father’s rantings when he discovered I have kept you from him all these years.

  That I do not regret. Selfish woman that I am, I have had you to myself and you are growing up to be a fine young man. Nor do I regret the error on my part that resulted in your birth. I do regret that I was not able to protect you as well as I should have and pray that you have no bad memories of me or the life I constr
ained upon you.

  I hope you will forgive me, my darling boy, for not seeing you again. To see you and not be able to hold you without...’

  Caro put the paper on her lap. ‘Oh, Blade, are you sure you want me to continue?’

  ‘Go on,’ he managed.

  ‘...without having you see the ravages of this horrid disease. It takes one from the world yet leaves one to linger.

  Your father loves you. His countess loves you. Be happy. Forgive me.

  Your loving mother...’

  She folded it up and enclosed him in her arms while he wept. He wept for his mother and for the boy who had never understood.

  Feeling ashamed, he averted his face. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he muttered.

  Her arm snugged around his waist. ‘There is nothing to forgive. I love you.’

  He swallowed. ‘There are a great many admissions of people loving me today,’ he said, trying for lightness and failing. He just felt so humble. And grateful.

  ‘Loving you back, you mean,’ she said softly. ‘You are a very loving man, aren’t you? It hurt you badly when you thought she didn’t want you any more.’

  ‘Worse than losing my hand,’ he said, finally relieved to be able to admit it freely. He put his arm around her waist and they stood together while he composed himself. Finally, they began walking towards Tommy and his brother, who were now rolling in play on the ground.

  ‘I love you so much, Caro,’ he said, finally able to form words again. ‘Will you marry me soon? I am not sure I can wait even three weeks for the banns to be called.’

  ‘A special licence would solve that problem, I believe.’

  He grinned at her. ‘I give you my heart and my soul, but you will find them badly bashed around.’ He bent and kissed her cheek. ‘Will you take them into your care?’ he whispered in her ear. ‘For there will never be another for me.’

  She stopped and rose up on her toes and kissed his mouth.