An Earl To Remember_The Yorkshire Downs Series_Love, Hearts and Challenges_A Regency Romance Story

by Jasmine Ashford

  Her musing was interrupted by Roderick, reaching for her arm to help her over a small bridge.

  “And my turn?” Henriette demanded. Roderick's eyes kindled as he handed her across.

  “You are too precious to risk falling.”

  “Oh, you. Charming you are...” Henriette grinned.

  She stroked his hair, and Ada felt such a depth of fondness and longing in the glance that passed between them that her own heart ached.

  I feel like that for Liam. She bit her lip. Why had I not realized before how love felt, what it looks like? She shook her head. I have been blind.

  “Whee!”

  Once over the bridge, the two little girls took off, racing up the slopes in a most unladylike manner. Mrs Mallington trotted ahead, racing to keep up. Ada smiled. She and Henriette and Roderick strolled down the stone-paved paths, the leaves overhead rustling and admitting dappled sun. Ada smelled the grass and wet stone and the scent of lavender drifting from the gardens beyond. They walked for what seemed like hours, until they reached a leafy lawn. It was near where Ada had agreed to meet Liam, and she looked around covertly, hoping he was there. It was already later than she had expected him. It was midday.

  “I took the precaution of ordering a luncheon,” Roderick explained. “We could stop and eat it here.”

  “You are full of surprises!” Henriette exclaimed. Roderick called Nanny Mallington over, who produced a picnic. As she sat and nibbled at cold chicken and sipped white wine, Ada watched the park restlessly.

  I was silly to think I might see him here. On what did I base that assumption, besides a guess that he would prefer it?

  “I should just enjoy myself,” she said under her breath. “It is a beautiful day.”

  “Look at me!” Medora exclaimed, producing a threaded daisy chain which she draped across her brow. “I'm an elf...”

  Ada hid her smile behind her hand. “You are a very convincing elf, dearest,” she enthused.

  “Good!”

  Margaret deigned to set aside her dignity and joined in, wearing a wreath of daisies and lavender. The girls pranced about in the clearing, Ada keeping a watchful eye on them as the other adults moved onto fruit and cool liqueur. She glanced anxiously toward the trees, but there was no sign of anyone.

  Roderick had set up croquet and was trying to convince Henriette to join in, and Mrs. Mallington was playing a solitary game with cards. It was a peaceful afternoon.

  “Watch me run!” Medora shouted, suddenly, and ran for the trees. Margaret, ever eager to play, joined in, racing off after her.

  “I can catch you...”

  Ada sat forward, suddenly worried, and felt herself stand before she had even thought about it. Medora was running, care-free, to the path. And on it was an open carriage and four horses.

  “No!” Ada screamed, and ran before her conscious thought had framed the command. “Stop!”

  She ran for the child, moving as fast as her legs would carry her. Behind her, she heard Henriette cry out in alarm.

  “Non!”

  Nanny Mallington had sprung to her feet, running likewise for the path.

  “Medoraa!”

  Ada screamed it as she hurled herself toward the child. She was not fast enough.

  “Stop!” a man's voice shouted. As Ada reached the child, the horses reared, halted by a man appearing in their path, walking-cane held high.

  The little body collapsed into Ada's arms as she wrapped her in an embrace and Ada fell backward, out of the path of the carriage where the horses had suddenly stopped.

  “Medora!” Margaret ran to join them, her small, pale face wet with silent tears. She had seen her sister's death approaching and was white with shock. Ada embraced them both and they sat, crying, on the green lawn below the trees.

  Mrs. Mallington had stopped at the edge of the clearing, her hand on her heart, out of breath. She was almost lost from view behind the rise of the trees. Ada could just see Henriette in Roderick's arms, far below them at the picnicking glade. Her cries came to her though a mist, her thumping heart blocking her thoughts.

  “My lady?” The man was bending over her, a hand outstretched toward her.

  “Liam?” She breathed. Only after she had said it did she realize she had simply addressed him by his name, without a title.

  “You are unhurt?” he asked, kneeling down with concern on his face.

  “Yes,” Ada breathed. “Yes, I am fine.”

  “And the little girls?” he asked, gently touching Medora's arm. She turned to him, wriggling in Ada's grasp.

  “I'm fine!” She smiled. Of them all, she seemed the least affected by the terror that had just gripped all of them.

  “Good,” Liam said, stroking the glossy head. “And you, my young lady?” He addressed Margaret formally.

  “I am well, thank you, sir,” Margaret said politely, looking shyly down at her clasped hands.

  Liam looked up at Ada, a tender smile on his face.

  “They are beautiful children,” he said gently. “Whose are they?”

  “My brother's,” Ada explained. She sat back, wiping the tears away from her cheeks with a hand. “Miss Margaret Drosty, and Miss Medora Drosty, meet Lord Liam Donnelly, Earl of Westmeath.”

  “Are you really an earl?” Medora asked, looking up at him with round eyes. “You look like a solider.”

  “My father's a duke,” Margaret said properly.

  Liam huffed a gentle laugh. “I am indeed an earl, sweet lady. Though I was a soldier once.” He bit his lip and looked at his hands. Ada noticed they were trembling. She reached out and gently touched his shoulder.

  “That's nice,” Medora said absently.

  “Soldiers are brave,” Margaret said gravely. “And you were very brave now.” She inclined her head at the carriage, where the coachman was trying to rearrange the reins.

  Liam made a noise that sounded like a moan, and looked down at his clasped hands again, and Ada reached out, touching his hair.

  “Margaret is right,” she said. “What you did was brave. So brave. You risked your life to save Medora. She could have been killed, if you had not intervened.”

  “Yes!” said Medora indignantly.

  “You saved her life,” Ada repeated. “You are brave. Whether it was your soldier's instinct or your own courage that prompted you, you saved a life.”

  “I did nothing,” Liam said harshly. “And I think my “soldier's instinct” is best unmentioned.” His lips had set firmly and he pushed himself to standing.

  “I did not mean offense,” Ada said softly, standing to join him. “But I would ask that you consider what I said. You may have taken life. You also saved it. Do not lose that fact under the rest, is all I ask.”

  Liam huffed a laugh. “You don't let me off lightly, do you?” he said wryly.

  “You don't let yourself off,” she said briskly.

  The two of them looked at each other, his brown eyes raw and intense and staring into her russet ones.

  “I am glad I could assist,” he said hoarsely. His eyes said something entirely different, entirely at odds with his stiff, proper words. Ada's body read their message and tingled.

  “I am glad, too, sir.” she said. Her voice was low, and she felt her hands tremble as she stepped toward him.

  The girls seemed to sense something momentous was about to happen, for they stepped very quietly to the edge of the clearing, leaving the two older people alone.

  “Liam,” Ada said gently, again using his name but this time intentionally.

  “Ada.”

  He breathed her name, a spine-tingling whisper that worked through her nerves like fire. She stepped to him then, and they kissed.

  “Good day,” Liam said, when at last they stepped apart.

  “Good day,” Ada whispered.

  He nodded and walked back where he had been, disappearing beneath the leafy trees that bordered the clearing.

  “Ada!”

  Henriette appeared, followe
d closely by Roderick. Ada blinked. The whole encounter could not have taken much time, but she felt as if time had frozen, leaving her anchored in that spot forever, watching him walk away into the clearing.

  “Henriette...” Her voice trailed off and she held out a hand, feeling oddly faint and helpless, as if her whole life had been drawn out of her as he walked out of the clearing, leaving her an empty shell.

  “Sister! You are well?” Roderick walked gently over to her as Henriette, in a gesture that entirely belied her constant protests, enveloped Medora in a crushing embrace, stroking her hair. Margaret joined them and the three sat on the grass, three faint forms in white, topped with identical dark curls.

  “I am well, brother dear,” Ada whispered faintly. “But take me home. Please? Take me home...”

  She collapsed, then, all the tension and emotions of the day crashing down on her. She slept the whole drive back and was carried up to her bedchamber, where she slept until suppertime.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  REALIZATIONS

  REALIZATIONS

  Ada sifted through a mist of total exhaustion. She recalled the events of the day through the haze that filled her mind. Medora, running for the carriage. The terror as she thought she was too late. The elation when Liam appeared. The way he had looked at her, and the touch of his lips on hers as they kissed. She smiled and stretched down to her toes, feeling the cool cotton sheets slide against her skin.

  “Liam...” she murmured.

  “What's that, dear?” Priscilla, her maid, asked tenderly.

  Ada opened her eyes and closed them again, exhausted. “Nothing...”

  She was almost too weary to sit. But she was so dreamily happy! She sat up gingerly.

  “Priscilla?”

  “Yes, milady?”

  “How long have I slept?”

  “It is eight of the clock, my lady. You've not been asleep for long.”

  “Oh,” Ada said, surprised. She looked at the curtains, noticing the blue blush of dusk outside. She had only been asleep about four hours.

  “Henriette and Roderick?” she asked. “They are here?”

  “They're in the dining room, milady. They went for the doctor, and he recommended we leave you to sleep.”

  “Oh,” Ada sighed again. “I am glad. I am so tired!” She stretched experimentally, noting how weak she felt.

  “Will you rest more? Or can I help you dress for dinner?”

  “I...” Ada hesitated. Impulsively, she decided to go down. “I think I can dress, Priscilla. Thank you,” she added, noticing the pitcher of water and a cloth beside the bed. Priscilla had evidently been wiping her forehead, taking care of her.

  “Doctor's orders.” Priscilla smiled. “You weren't fevered, so there was no need to bleed you, thank heavens!” Priscilla shuddered. “Can't bear blood, I can't.”

  “I don't think I'm ill,” Ada observed cautiously, “just very tired.”

  “Well, best to go down now and come straight up to bed again,” Priscilla recommended. Ada smiled and slid out of bed to dress.

  Later, dressed in a simple dinner dress of white muslin printed with little sprigs, Ada drifted down to the dining room.

  “Ada!” Henriette smiled, half-standing as she walked in slowly. “I am so glad to see you! I was worried.” Her smooth brow wore a frown, and Ada felt touched by her concern.

  “I am just a little tired after all that excitement yesterday,,” she said, smiling wanly as Roderick assisted her to her chair.

  “We shan't keep you awake, then,” Roderick smiled. “Here, have some soup. We only just started dinner. It's surprisingly good, actually – consommé of fish and fennel. Very refreshing.”

  Ada smiled and lifted her silver spoon. As she ate, she listened to Roderick and Henriette, talking of their plans. They were all invited to tea at Margate place, and there was a gathering at Almack's later in the week.

  “Oh, yes, and, Ada,” Henriette said, turning to her with a smile, “we had a card this afternoon from Lord Oscar Ridlington. He invited you, most specifically, to an evening party at Lewton House. Tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Ada said, feeling her joyful mood dissolve. Why did he invite me? He was so strange the last time I saw him! He threatened me. What sudden change is this?

  “What is amiss?” Roderick asked, seeing her sudden frown. “It is a great honor – the poetry readings at Lewton are open to only a few.”

  “Yes!” Henriette pointed out. “It clearly means he admires you. He is a great prospect, my dear,” she added gently.

  Ada dabbed her mouth with a handkerchief, playing for time. The two were looking at her expectantly across the white expanse of tablecloth, clearly wondering why she looked so stricken.

  “I...” she stuttered. “I will have to see if I am well tomorrow,” she offered.

  “I am sure you will be!” Henriette beamed. “We shall be sure not to tire you out! You need your sleep to recover in time. Here,” she added kindly, “try some of this roast beef – it's delicious.” She lifted the salver and passed it to Ada.

  “Thank you,” Ada said, feeling ill. She selected a small piece and ate it slowly, feeling suddenly miserable. What is this man up to? If this is an apology for his behavior, it is a strange way to make amends!

  The thought of Oscar Ridlington was hateful to her: his arrogant ways, his patronizing, and his need to be always the center of her attention! He was a pettish child, and she did not trust or like him. Especially not since his reaction the last time she had seen him. And when I think of Liam, then... Ada sighed.

  Ada looked across the table, feeling miserable. Her brother and his wife clearly approved of Oscar. They would cast less favorable eyes on Liam, being a foreign peer. And a duke was a glittering prospect – second only to a prince! She should feel so happy. But I don't like him! Ada's heart protested. The thought of him, kissing her the way Liam had, made her skin prickle with dislike.

  You don't need to like him, a laconic part of her mind pointed out. You only need to marry. As well as possible. And soon. Henriette did not know she loved Roderick when they married! She married for convenience. And so should you.

  Dinner ended, the conversation muted, and Ada stood up hesitantly.

  “You should rest, dear,” Henriette said, helping her to the door. “Tomorrow is a big day!” As they walked together, she pinched Ada's cheek gently. “My beautiful Ada – almost a duchess!” She beamed.

  Ada felt her heart sink. She could not disappoint them. She left Henriette at the bottom of the stairs and made her slow, exhausted way up the wooden staircase to her bedchamber.

  As she closed her eyes in bed, she made up her mid. She would go to Lewton the next day, and confront him there. Perhaps she could make him change his mind. It seemed extremely unlikely, but she would have to try.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  A HEARTFELT DISCUSSION

  A HEARTFELT DISCUSSION

  “Is his lordship in?” Toby asked, standing on the doorstep of Mapworth Place.

  “He is, milord. Is he expecting you?”

  “If you tell him Toby, Lord Moore, is here, he'll probably have a moment,” Toby said easily.

  “Very good, my lord,” the butler agreed, and bowed. “A moment, if you please.”

  Toby waited on the doorstep, stamping his feet to keep warm in the draught that blew along the cobbled street, plucking at his coat. He shrugged his shoulders under its enveloping folds and prayed the man would hurry.

  His prayers were answered, as the butler appeared. “His lordship will see you now.”

  “Thank goodness,” Toby murmured. “Or I would catch my death out here.” The butler bit back a grin and led him up an echoing hallway to a door, showing him in.

  “Toby, my lad!” Errol Harrington smiled. He stood from his seat before a vast fireplace. “Come in! Come in! Durrell, be a good man and fetch us whiskey? A good one! It's icy out there.”

  The manservant bowed and withdrew, leaving Toby alone wit
h Errol.

  “So, what brings you here?” Errol asked as Toby took a seat in a vast leather armchair. “News of my beloved nephew?”

  “Yes,” Toby agreed, taking the whiskey that Durrell proffered. Errol waited until the man had left before draining his own glass and replying.

  “He seems well,” Errol agreed, smacking his lips. “I spoke to him a few days ago.”

  “He is well,” Toby agreed. “In body and in mind. He spoke to you of... current matters?”

  “I know he's courting a girl.” Errol took a seat in his vast chair and sighed. “The man is head-over-heels. I hope she is a decent sort.”

  “Lady Ada is a rare woman,” Toby said softly, looking up from his glass.

  “You like her, eh?” Errol chuckled, amused. “You two!” He shook his head. “I've known you and my dear nephew for ten years now, and never seen you love the same girl.”

  Toby looked into his glass and thought about his reply.

  “I am not in love with Ada, though under other circumstances, I might be. Liam and she are... close.” He paused, struggling to explain. “They are as if a granite block was cleaved to carve two statues – the same substance, made to complement each other. I have never seen two people so well-matched.”

  His words fell into a deep silence, while both men contemplated them.

  “Well,” Errol whistled at last. “That is quite a thing. I wish I'd seen it.”

  “It is,” Toby agreed. “I have never seen him so close to anyone. Not since Caledon.”

  They were both quiet then. “Has he... ever mentioned Geoffrey Caledon again?”

  “No,” Toby admitted. “He was like a brother to Liam – you never saw them apart. Now, it seems he has forgotten he existed.”

  “He wants to forget,” Errol said heavily. He stood and walked to the fire, stoking it so that the whole room was bathed in amber light. From his position by the grate, he looked up to Toby, to continue his explanation. “It often happens with war. Men lose their friends, their brothers, their fathers. They never mention them again,” He shrugged. “They keep it all coiled up inside them like a serpent – all the sorrow, all the anger. Sometimes they stay like that until they die. Frozen, like Liam is.”