by Laura Landon
He closed his eyes and fervently prayed Miss Cornwell would find a cure for his seizures before that happened. When he opened his eyes, the woman he prayed could help him was walking up the lane. Thomas followed her carrying a basket.
Gideon left the study and walked down the hall, then across the foyer to meet her. He opened the door himself because he didn’t have a butler. He refused to allow any staff to stay with him.
“Good morning, Miss Cornwell,” he said in greeting.
“Good morning, Lord Sheffield.”
“Thomas.”
Thomas nodded.
Gideon was glad to see her, as he always was. She was gradually becoming his first true friend.
Today she wore an apple-green striped morning dress with full sleeves and a high neckline. The gown narrowed at her waist to show off her petite figure, and the vibrant green complimented her coloring.
She’d pulled her wheat-colored hair back loosely from her face and tied the mass of curls at the back of her head. A lacy green netting held her hair in place.
His heart picked up speed at the sight of her and he couldn’t contain the smile that broadened across his face. She was breathtaking. One of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.
“Come in, Miss Cornwell. And Thomas.”
His two guests followed him across the foyer and into the first sitting room. It was the smaller of the two salons, and more intimate. This is the room he and Miss Cornwell usually occupied each day when she came. The room in which he felt more at ease.
He showed her to the floral settee on the far side of the room, then waited while Thomas set the basket he carried onto the table. When the basket was empty and Thomas had filled a large cup with tea and placed two pastries on a plate, he left the room.
Gideon knew he hadn’t gone far from the room. He and Matthew always stayed close at hand so if Miss Cornwell needed them, they could come to her aid in seconds.
Miss Cornwell poured tea for him and for herself, then dished the pastries onto plates and handed one to him. When she took a sip of her tea, she placed the cup and saucer on the table and lifted her gaze.
“I’d like to ask you about your stepmother, if I may,” she said, taking out her pad of paper and a pen.
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
“How would you describe her?”
Gideon couldn’t help but smile. “If you’re asking if I like her, the answer is yes. She never tried to take my mother’s place, yet she is the only mother I’ve ever known. She has always been nothing but kind to me. Always treated me as if I were her own son.”
“How did your father meet her? Do you know?”
“Actually, she and my mother were close friends. They grew up together not far from each other, and had their first come-out together.” Gideon placed his right ankle atop his left knee and balanced the cup and saucer on his thigh. “Father said that mother and Ernesta—that is Her Grace’s first name—were the most sought-after belles of the Season. Even after mother and father married, Mother and Ernesta remained close friends.”
Gideon stopped to take a sip of his tea. He loved to watch her as she took down what he said. Loved the way she clamped her teeth over her bottom lip. Loved the glimpse of straight, white teeth. Loved the small lines of concentration on her brow. He was more fascinated by her every day. And there were times when he thought she might feel the same for him.
Times when she’d focus on him and her cheeks would darken with the most endearing blush. Times when he found her staring at him with a look that was more than casual. Times when he caught her looking at him and she quickly lowered her gaze, as if he’d caught her thinking thoughts that embarrassed her.
She was utterly fascinating and he wondered how she’d reached the age she had without someone taking her for their wife.
He mentally shook his head as he tried to clear it of thoughts of her. Especially such intimate thoughts. He cleared his throat. “The rest you heard from Lettie. She told how Ernesta and Mother were childhood friends. How he asked her to stay with Mother when she fell ill. That’s all I know. Perhaps Father could tell you more.”
Miss Cornwell stopped taking notes and looked up. “I’ve already spoken to your father,” she admitted with a slight smile. “I called on him the other day and talked to him about several items. Including this.”
Gideon tipped his head in question. “Then why are you asking me? Surely Father’s recollection of what happened all those years ago is far superior to mine.”
“His description was far more detailed, but I wanted your perspective on Her Grace. And your opinion on what you thought when your father married another woman.”
“I see. Well, then, I’m sure he said exactly what Lettie said. That he was desperate to help Mother when she changed so drastically after I was born. That he thought if anything could help her it would be the companionship of her closest friend. I am thankful that Ernesta was free to be a companion to Mother. I’m sure she was a great comfort to Mother.” He took another sip of tea. “And, I don’t resent Father’s marriage to Ernesta in the least. It’s only natural that first a special friendship, then love developed between them.”
“Do you resent them for marrying so soon after your mother’s death?”
Gideon couldn’t help but smile. “Heavens, no. I’m happy they married. She’s made him very happy. They are well suited to each other. And,” he said, realizing for the first time how true his next words were. “She gave Father a second son and two daughters. I can’t imagine how empty our lives would be without them.”
“You are fond, then, of your stepbrother and two stepsisters?”
He smiled. “Immensely. They provide a constant source of amusement.”
“I’m sure they do.” She placed the notepad and pen on the table in front of her and looked up. “Would you care to accompany me outside? The weather is perfect and I know you prefer the open spaces and the sunshine.”
“I’d love it.”
Gideon rose and helped her to her feet. He extended his arm and she placed her hand atop it. The second she touched him, every part of his body came alive with awareness.
He didn’t want her to have such an effect on him. Feelings for her were futile. Even dangerous. He’d always known that he couldn’t be like other young men. Always known that he could never feel an attraction for anyone. And he’d never allowed himself to consider that someday he might develop feelings for anyone. Such a possibility was impossible.
But for some reason he couldn’t explain, Eve Cornwell broke through the barriers he’d erected. She breached the wall he’d constructed around his emotions.
From the beginning he’d tried to convince himself that he was aware of her only because she was the first person in his entire life who’d given him reason to hope. The first person who’d allowed him to consider that there might be a way to escape this darkly shadowed life into which he’d been cast. But every time she was with him, his feelings for her intensified until she was an important part of his life. And he realized that she filled a corner of his heart that had been empty forever.
He escorted her across the room, then through a side door that led to a private walk through Shadowdown’s massive flower garden. Thomas, of course, followed them at a distance.
“I think I’ve answered enough questions,” he said as they walked down the cobbled path. “Now it’s your turn.”
His statement elicited a look of surprise, followed by a shy smile.
“I imagine that’s only fair,” she answered. “Although I can’t fathom what there is about me that might be of interest.”
“Several things, Miss Cornwell. First, what made you decide to work as your father does with people who suffer from diseases of the mind?”
Her footsteps faltered ever so slightly, and if Gideon hadn’t been concentrating on her, he might not have noticed. But he had.
“I imagine I could give you the pat answer I give to everyone who ask
s,” she said, “but for some reason I don’t understand, I want you to know the real reason I’ve devoted my life to working with people who are troubled.”
She lifted her head and their gazes locked. An understanding passed between them that Gideon couldn’t put words to, but that he knew was special. She pulled her gaze away from him and took a deep breath. “The reason is my brother. His name was Jeremy.”
“What happened?” Gideon asked.
“Jeremy was my younger brother. He was an active child. He always ran, never walked. He could get excited about the most insignificant things. It was a pleasure to be around him, although my parents often commented that just keeping an eye on him wore them out.
“Father had taken a position at a private hospital in London and worked long hours. Jeremy and I would go days without seeing him. Most evenings we’d be asleep long before he came home from work, and still be in bed when he left each morning. But on Father’s one day off, we’d always do something special.
“One time on Father’s day off, Mother planned a picnic. She packed a picnic lunch and we went to a nearby park. I couldn’t wait to get to the park. Jeremy, of course, was bursting with excitement. I remember laughing at him each time Mother threatened to take him home if he didn’t act like a gentleman. Not that she would have, of course. But she did issue the warning.”
“How old were you?” Lord Sheffield asked.
“I was nine. Jeremy was seven.”
“We were near the park when the accident happened. We had only to cross the street and Jeremy could have run to his heart’s content. But he was in such a hurry to reach the park that he darted forward, into the path of an oncoming carriage.
“Mother ran after Jeremy and pushed him to safety, but she didn’t get out of the path herself in time.”
She paused for a moment and Gideon knew she was reliving the day her mother died.
“Father ran to her, but there was nothing he could do. Mother died in his arms.
“After that, Jeremy was a different child. He didn’t speak for several years after the accident. Not a word. Nor did he run and play as normal children did.” She looked up. “He blamed himself for Mother’s death, and no matter how many ways Father tried to explain that it had been an accident, he refused to believe him.
“Then, one day, when he was fourteen, he went missing. We searched for hours. Everyone who knew us helped in the search. Jeremy’s body was finally found the next day, floating face-down in a nearby stream.”
“Is that when you decided you wanted to follow in your father’s footsteps?”
She shook her head. “Not then. I was too angry with Father to have anything to do with the medicine he practiced.”
“At your father?”
“Yes. He spent his life working with patients who suffered from mental problems, yet he was unable to save his own son. I was quite determined to have nothing to do with his work. As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t any importance in what he did. There weren’t any successes.”
She looked at him as if she wanted to make sure he understood what she meant. “When a medical doctor treats a patient, the patient either improves or he dies. When Father treated a patient, the patient didn’t necessarily die like Jeremy did, but I couldn’t see that the individual got better. Ever. I thought how fruitless that kind of work must be. How futile. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be,” she said with a smile on her face. “Maybe nothing more than a wife and mother. But never a doctor who worked with people suffering from problems where I couldn’t see that my efforts made a difference.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Not what. Who,” she answered. “Her name was Nellie Darling. She was a young girl, only nineteen years old, and one of the most beautiful females I’d ever seen. She had her whole life ahead of her. One with endless possibility.”
They’d reached a shaded area with a wooden bench that overlooked a beautiful bed of flowers. He led her to the bench and waited for her to sit, then sat beside her.
“Nellie’s father was an advisor to several government agencies. He was quite influential. He was also one of the wealthiest men in London, and on good terms with several of the nobility. Although not titled, Mr. Darling and his family were frequent guests in the homes of several prominent members of the House. The fact that he and his wife had four exceedingly handsome sons and a beautiful and eligible daughter only encouraged the invitations.”
Miss Cornwell stopped and took a breath. “One night, well past midnight, there was a loud banging on the door. Father went down to answer the knock and there was a servant there with a frantic message from Mr. Darling asking that Father come to their residence at once.
“We had one housemaid and she had gone to see her daughter who had just had a baby, and since Father refused to leave me alone, I went with him.”
“How old were you?” Gideon asked.
“Seventeen. Two years younger than Miss Darling.”
“She was the reason Mr. Darling sent for your father?”
“Yes.” Miss Cornwell stilled on the bench. “When we arrived, we discovered Nellie Darling sitting on the window ledge in her bedroom. The window was open and she was about to jump from her third floor perch.
“Needless to say, both Mr. and Mrs. Darling were frantic. Nellie was crying uncontrollably, and nothing they said helped. Nellie was intent on jumping to her death, yet she refused to tell her parents why, except to say that she’d done something horrible that they’d never be able to forgive.”
She looked up. “And then I saw firsthand what a difference my father could make in people’s lives. How important his work was. I sat in that room that night, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, and listened while Father quietly and calmly talked to Nellie Darling. He talked to her until her sobbing ceased and she gradually told him what she’d done that was horrible that she thought her parents could never forgive.”
She paused. “She’d given herself to a young man who’d used her, then abandoned her, and now she was carrying his child. She was convinced her parents would hate her for what she’d done. And somehow Father, with his gentle words and calm understanding, was able to convince her that there was nothing that she could do that her parents wouldn’t forgive. He reminded her of how much her parents loved her, which of course she knew, and told her how much pain she would cause them if she ended her life.
“I remember the look on Nellie’s face when Father told her that her mother would lose the will to live if she jumped from that window.”
Gideon noticed the wetness in Miss Cornwell’s eyes and realized that the scene was as vivid now as it had been all those years ago. “That was the event that changed your mind?”
She nodded. “Because of my father, that young girl lived. Because of his gift, a family was saved from a lifetime of heartache.”
Gideon felt an overwhelming admiration for Miss Eve Cornwell. She was the most remarkable woman he’d ever met. And he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Am I to be your Nellie Darling?”
Her gaze met his. “I only hope and pray you are. I can’t think of anyone more worthy of saving.”
CHAPTER 6
Eve wasn’t sure why she’d said what she had. Perhaps it was because they’d always been so open and honest with each other. Perhaps it was because that’s how she truly felt. He was worth saving. He was more deserving of a life than anyone she knew.
Lord Sheffield was a mere twenty-eight years old. He was pure male and exuded more masculine strength and ability than even the most powerful men she’d been around. He was every inch the heir to the influential and revered Duke of Townsend. Yet he’d endured more torture, pain, anguish, and torment than men far older than he, and suffered far more terrifying experiences.
She’d spent several months working in a hospital that cared for men returning from the war in the Crimea. Several of the cases she’d seen were quite similar to what Lord Sheffield suffered: seizures, nightmares, extreme pain
, violent reactions, memory loss, and more. Yet many of those soldiers had withdrawn to a place deep inside themselves, and no matter how hard anyone tried to break through that shell they’d erected to protect themselves, it was impossible to reach them.
Lord Sheffield hadn’t done that. He’d handled his seizures with more courage than she’d ever seen. And she was extremely thankful. Perhaps, just perhaps, with his help, she might be able to discover something that would enable him to control, if not cure, his seizures.
But that didn’t remove the embarrassment she felt for being so forthright and outspoken.
“I shouldn’t have worded that the way I did,” she said, focusing on her hands clasped in her lap.
“I’m glad you did,” he said before she could say more in the way of an excuse. “I would love to be your Nellie Darling. I would love for you to find the reason I suffer from this curse. And,” he paused, “I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how much I admire you.”
Lord Sheffield leaned forward and rested his forearms on his powerful thighs. “I know I shouldn’t speak like this to you, so please, if my words offend you in any way, please consider them the ramblings of a man experiencing an inordinate amount of hope for the first time in his life. You have given me the gift of dreaming of a life outside Shadowdown. And for the first time, you’ve allowed me to experience emotions other than fear and terror, and all the other horrors that come with what I endure with each attack.”
Lord Sheffield pushed himself upright, then turned his head to look at her. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m afraid you have become very important to me.”
Eve blinked back the wetness that had formed in her eyes. “And you have become very important to me.”
He smiled. And oh, my goodness, what a smile it was.
“I believe,” he said, “that we have passed the point of referring to one another so formally. Please, Miss Cornwell, call me Gideon.”
She nodded. “And please, call me Eve.”
“That’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”
