by Allie Borne
“He could not have discovered the truth from his own daughter?”
“If your father was one to consider the thoughts and feelings of others, Lindsay, he would never have acted as he did. Were I guilty of the crime he believed, I would have deserved my fate. And many would condone your father’s actions toward your mother, as he, in his way, did seek to get her treated for her condition.
“It is only that his actions were self-serving and devoid of the necessary angst or remorse that we know him to be a cold and calculating man. It is for this reason that I told you naught. I knew you would not be able to stop yourself from confronting your father. I knew I risked our very livelihood, were I to explain my untimely absence. Worse, yet,” Charles sighed, “it seems Sir Richard made a legitimate threat. If Bernard knows of my illegitimacy, then the father I knew was not my true father.”
Sitting up and looking into Charles’ troubled visage, Lindsay shook her head. “I do not understand of what you speak. Bernard said no such thing.”
“Then, what truth did Bernard reveal?”
“I have given him my oath to secrecy, Charles. What he told me matters little, in the end.”
“It matters, if your father can use the information against me, to disinherit me.”
“Then, mayhap we should speak with Bernard. He has made it his business to know about you. He is your father’s cousin. He will know the right of it, I would wager.”
Charles grasped Lindsay’s hand affectionately. “Forgive me my rough treatment of your person. I am not the man I once was, but, with you, I feel I can become the man I wish to be.”
“Charles,” Lindsay snuggled back against his chest, resting her cheek up on his heart. “I prefer you hot and grasping, then cool and remote. It has been a quiet torture, having you away. I would have you here, by my side or not at all. I cannot live a life of in-betweens. Can you promise me your devotion, in return for my own?”
“Lindsay, devotion has never been lacking between us. Let us, instead, promise honesty. If we can tell one another all that we know and feel, then we will not have to wonder about the depth of our devotion. I have loved you the whole of your life. Now, as husband, I have learned to love you as a woman. We will err. We may yet cause the other undue harm. Yet, we can commit to true and total candor, so that the wrongs we commit will be nothing but tiny ripples in the current of our lives. Can you commit to that?”
“Do you love me, as a woman, Charles?” Lindsay goaded, smiling up at him coyly.
“Aye, I believe I do, Lady Donovan. How forgetful you are of my love making, if you must needs be reminded.”
Planting kisses along Lindsay’s temple and jaw-line, Charles moved to Linnie’s neck, eliciting a silken moan. “Charles,” she chuckled, pulling apart slightly, “you mistake lust for love. I speak of the deeper, lasting devotion and respect of one person for another. I speak of trust and diligence and hard work. I speak of never giving up on the other, despite difficulties, anger, and disappointment. I speak of the acts we do each day to show we will be there, come what may.”
Charles paused only briefly in his nuzzling to gift Lindsay with a dazzling, dimpled smile. “Lindsay, I love you as my partner and my equal. There are many ways I plan to prove my devotion. Dipping his head down to run his lips and tongue along her stomach, Charles ire and grief boiled over into hard earned lust.
Kissing and suckling his way across her hip and thigh, Charles grasped greedily at Lindsay’s knees, pushing them apart to gain access to her soft center. Nuzzling and grazing her inner thighs with his lips, he smiled at Lindsay’s soft moan.
Her hands ran affectionately through Charles’ hair, then pulled, encouraging him toward his destination. Charles lapped and kissed and caressed her core until she came in pants of escalating need.
Pulling him atop her, Lindsay lifted her hips in welcome, as Charles joyously plunged into her hot, pulsing passage. Lindsay cried out for more, delirious in her relief. Needy for affirmation and reconnection, they both fell together running their hands across one another’s chest, sides, face, raining kisses wherever they could reach in frantic, frenzied love making.
“Aaah!” Lindsay moaned, bordering between pleasure and pain as she climaxed in powerful surges about him. Charles withdrew and then slammed into Lindsay, he increased the tempo, quickly finding his own release.
Shaking, he lay atop Lindsay until he regained his breath. Wrapping Lindsay in a trembling, achingly fragile embrace, Charles gently brushing away her hair. Sighing, Lindsay turned her back into Charles’ and nestled closer. Charles blew in Lindsay’s ear and ran his tongue along her lobe.
“I may be broken, sweet Linnie. But at least I can get this one thing right.” Watching her face for confirmation, he relaxed when a lazy smile turned her soft cheek into a blushing apple.
She loved him. Thank God and saints, his ever shrinking world was intact once more.
~ ~ ~
Elizabeth Beaumont sat rigidly in her chair. Her husband’s large bulk engulfed the small settee across from hers. Why has he come to Bath? He couldn’t possibly have missed me. Perhaps he worries I am overtaxing my host. I must not behave poorly. He might send me back to Bethlem, Elizabeth thought with a shiver. I like it here.
“How are you, Elizabeth?” Sir Richard queried, clearing his throat and tugging on his lapels.
“I am fine, thank you.”
“And Mrs. Henley and Miss Bowling, do they fare well?”
“Yes, they are in good health and spirits. They continue to extend their hospitality, indefinitely, if need be.”
Nodding, Sir Richard shifted from foot to foot, uncertain of how to proceed.
“It may have been,” Sir Richard hedged, “that I did you a disservice, sending you to Bethlem five years hence.”
Elizabeth stilled. She did not trust her husband and his rash decisions, and she did not trust herself to respond in a manner pleasing to his temperament.
“I came to visit, to make amends for my foul treatment in your time of distress.”
Elizabeth chose her words carefully. “Richard, I will not deny that I suffered greatly, as a result of my time in Bethlem. I felt a woman wrongly punished for a crime she knew not.
“Yet, when I grew ill from pleurisy, you did not allow me to waste away and die. You came to collect me and bring me here, to Charles’ aunts, to be nursed back to health. And they have, Richard, in more ways than you can imagine. I have learned to cope with my melancholy, if not displace it entirely. I have found vigorous exercise, fresh air, and companionship do wonders for my humors.
“And, painful as it has been, I have learned that I have committed a crime, against my family. I consider my time in Bethlem a just sentence for the neglect my daughters have suffered. While I am not fully recovered, I had hoped you might arrange for Lindsay and Leah to visit me here.”
Sir Richard ground his hat beneath clenched knuckles. While he felt relief that his wife continued to recuperate in this environment, he had not fully planned out how he might handle an outcome in which he must tell his daughters of his deceit.
“Lindsay and Leah suffered greatly from your illness. When I took you away, Lindsay did not eat for a week. When I received the letter that you had become ill, I told the girls that you had died before I left for London to remove you to Bath. I felt it would be easier for them, if you were to just pass on.”
At Elizabeth’s heart broken expression, Sir Richard rushed to explain. “At the time, I had no expectation that you would recover, either in body or spirit. It was for this reason that I led your daughters to believe you had died and been buried in London.”
“Are you then refusing me my daughters?” Elizabeth queried, lifting her chin a stubborn gesture he had come to associate with Lindsay and Leah.
“Nay, not so...I ask only for time to tell them. Lindsay and Charles have just married and are off to his estate and Leah is preparing for her come out. I ask only that we wait until the London season is over before I
bring them for a visit.”
Elizabeth inclined her head in acceptance, loath to show her husband just how emotional she was feeling over the day’s revelations. “Then I bid you adieu.” Lady Beaumont responded quietly.
Taking the hint that their visit had come to an end, Sir Richard bowed. “God be with you, Elizabeth. Farewell.”
~ ~ ~
Officially, her honeymoon ended today. Lindsay smiled bitterly at her image in the mirror. She definitely looked older and wiser. Her eyes showed dark circles and her frame had thinned, giving her a delicate air. Lindsay’s normally, lush, vibrant allure had faded, giving her a more ethereal presence.
What her hard labor and physical grief had stolen from her frame, it gave back in a stoic wit and wisdom. Lindsay was not the vivacious girl she had been four weeks ago, but she was the soul-satisfied consort of a passionate and honorable man. Whatever might come of Charles’ inheritance, they would face it together.
Leah was to arrive any day now, and Lindsay’s excitement grew to see her sister. First, Charles and she must face the reality of his lineage and determine a response. Turning from the looking glass to face her husband, Lindsay stood and offered him her hand.
Together they walked to the guest chamber. The door hung ajar and Charles led the way into the small space. “It has come to my attention, Bernard, that you may know something of my father-in-law’s threat to my person.”
Bernard, or rather, Sir Alexander, sat straighter in his bed and demanded, “I know not of what you speak, young man. Explain yourself.”
“Last night I told my wife of her father’s intimations about my legitimacy. She seemed to think that you might be able to shed some light on the subject.”
Sir Alexander wriggled uncomfortably within the bedclothes. “We had a pact,” he growled, looking accusingly at Lindsay.
“I have said nothing, Sir...might I request that you tell Charles?”
“Very well, I will bow to your inclination on this matter, but first, explain to me the nature of Sir Richard’s accusations.”
“Sir Richard stated that he knew the man that was my natural father. That man, he claims, was not Daniel Donovan, but Nathaniel Wright, a businessman to whom my mother was betrothed before she married my father.”
“Nathaniel Wright, you say? It does ring a bell. Some sort of shipping magnate, I believe. Yes, I do believe your mother may have been associated with the man, afore his death. What of it? There is no reason to think you are his get. He died before your mother wed Daniel and you were born eleven months later. It would be impossible.”
Charles’ grin spread wide across his face. “I am the legitimate heir to the title, then?”
“You are the legitimate heir,” Sir Alexander confirmed.
“Bernard,” Lindsay chided, pleading with her eyes for him to tell Charles the whole truth.
“However,” Sir Alexander hedged. “I am the current baronet and executor of Braxton Manor, in sense of blood lines.”
Sir Alexander sat back against the bed frame, waiting for his revelatory words to be absorbed.
“You are not Bernard, the butler?”
“Well, aye and nay. I have taken on the name and position of Bernard the Butler and Bernard has taken on my plot in the graveyard. Legally speaking, Sir Alexander is dead and Sir Charles is the baronet running Braxton Hall.”
“Why?” asked Charles, perplexed.
“Why ever not?” returned Sir Alexander. “As I explained to your wife, the lands were in disrepair, the people suffered, I am not a young man, something had to be done. How better to bring fresh blood, family, and money to the estate, than by dying and providing it with a new heir.
“Not being particularly inclined to end my own life prematurely, I took advantage of the death of a dear friend, to set this household to rights.”
“I cannot act as if in ignorance to this knowledge, Sir Alexander. I must step down from my position and allow you to regain control of the estate.”
“Poppy cock!” scolded Sir Alexander, vehemently. “Nothing good will come of your reaction. I have taken on the mantle of Bernard. I wish to be called Bernard and continue to go along as we have, perhaps with a small, personal acknowledgement of my status as a member of this family.”
“Well,” laughed Lindsay, “Charles has employed his cousin as his valet and future estate manager, why not employ another cousin as his butler!”
Charles’ eyes narrowed on Lindsay in warning. “John is from a very aristocratic blood line, fallen on hard times. I mean him no disrespect.”
Lindsay grasped Charles’ elbow and leaned against it. “I did not mean to imply so, dear husband, I only meant to state that accepting ‘Bernard’ as a butler is not any more of a leap than accepting John as a personal assistant.”
Charles turned his gaze on his father’s cousin. “You will be butler in name only, ‘Bernard’,” Charles offered dryly. This sits at odds with my conscience, but will endeavor to swallow my pride, knowing that the livelihood of dozens of people rely on us working together to bring this estate into good working order.”
Bernard nodded, smiling. “I was not certain you would see the situation my way, and so dissembled. For that, I offer my apologies. Take comfort in the fact that my days left on this earth are numbered. Your conscious need only feel pricked for a relatively short time.”
Charles snorted and shrugged. “I have found life to be full of grey, where once black and white stood stark in contrast about me.”
“Tis aging and wisdom, that bring out the subtle hues in life’s book of ethics and honor. Sometimes doing the honorable thing is not, in the end ethical. Insight, reflection, and conscious must guide your decisions.”
“I dislike accepting a title that is not mine. It seems we could work to restore this estate without my claiming the title.”
“And let it be known that I lied and forged my own will? I have committed a crime in order to save the servants and tenants undeserved suffering. How will they benefit from my going to prison? If I am stripped of my small title, then that will be the end of the lineage for you and your posterity. Are you willing to hand over your son’s legacy?”
Charles paused, thinking of the consequences of his ‘honorable’ behavior, and was forced to agree. “I concede the point to you, Sir Alexander, but I refuse to allow either you or Lindsay to call me ‘Sir Charles’. There will be honor among us thieves, at least.”
While burdened by the enormity of the secret, Charles was relieved to discover that his father had indeed, been his in every sense of the word. He might not be a baronet, but he was Daniel’s son, and that mattered much, much more.
Chapter Fifteen- Surprising Salutations
“Our deeds disguise us. People need endless time to try on their deeds, until each knows the proper deeds for him to do. But every day, every hour, rushes by. There is no time.”
~ John Locke, 18th Century philosopher
A midnight pounding on the door aroused Lindsay and Charles from their fitful slumber. With Betsy and David in the cottage, Bernard in his sick bed, and John and Bobby in their cups, it was left to Lindsay and Charles to cope with the untimely arrival of their guests. Rolling from their bed they staggered into robes and slippers before bustling down the stairs.
“Leah! Grandmother!” Lindsay exalted, hugging each woman in turn and then wrapping her arm around her sister’s waist affectionately. “How is it that you travel in the dead of night? Is that not awful and dangerous?”
Eleanor Beaumont inclined her head, regally. “We threw a wheel and the driver had to repair it, after we were an hour past the last inn. We decided to continue on, rather than back track. The trek was slow-going but we have arrived whole and hale. We will be needing accommodations for ourselves, our abigails, and our driver. We would all appreciate a slight repast, seeing as how we have not eaten since the noon day meal.”
“Of course,” smiled Lindsay. “Give me a moment to rouse my staff and we will see to your n
eeds, post haste.”
Eleanor looked about and sniffed, unimpressed with Lindsay’s ability to establish a competent staff. She would make it a point to offer further guidance on the matter. Quickly, Lindsay roused Dorothy and Molly to see to her guests’ accommodations. Knocking on the attic door emphatically, she rushed to give out orders.
“My family has arrived. Dorothy, you and Molly must haul wash water, while I prepare a repast. As both guest rooms are occupied, Eleanor will need to stay in Bernard’s apartment with her abigail. Leah can share the nursery with her lady’s maid. Charles will see the driver settled into David’s stable apartment.”
Dorothy and Molly moved to pull their gowns over their shifts and Lindsay returned down stairs to face her grandmother. Thankfully, Charles had settled the two ladies in the dining chamber, before heading to the stables. Lindsay smiled and nodded at them, as she slipped past and out into the sunken kitchen.
“God bless you, Mrs. Brown,” Lindsay sighed, as she saw the newly arrived cook had already risen and industriously worked to prepare a tray laden with bread, butter, salted beef, and sugared pears. Lindsay followed her to the house, wine flagon in hand.
Having settled at the table, Lindsay noted her grandmother’s marked lack of stoicism. Eleanor fairly hummed with excitement. Charles lifted his wine glass in an informal toast, “To these two dedicated ladies, who made their way to our humble abode, despite damage and danger.” Eleanor grinned. “The true reason for our haste lies in my own selfish wish to be the first to bring you both tidings of great import.”
Having gained the room’s attention, Eleanor continued. “It seems that the Viscount Dryer has succumbed to a morbid soar throat. Since he is a distant relation of yours, Charles, I took immediate interest and wished to be the first to inform you of the weighty news.” Eleanor again paused for effect and Charles felt obliged to respond.
