by Julia Donner
“Ma’am, I will ask for your forgiveness in advance. I am about to engage in an impertinence of the first order.”
“Please, my lord, do not hesitate to speak your thoughts or concerns. I am possessed of a hardy constitution.”
A smile quirked his lips. “Perhaps you will not be in such a hurry to hear me out after you’ve been made to listen. What I mean is that there is a matter of personal importance, a debt that must be paid.”
She had to stop him before he continued. “Sir, I only did what I felt called to do. Lady Asterly deserves all the credit. She did splendidly. Your daughter is quite the most beautiful infant I have ever seen.”
Asterly looked over his shoulder at her. Humor glinted in his gaze. “I suspect you say the same thing to every new parent.”
She pressed her lips together to stop a grin and looked down at the hands she had folded in her lap. “But in this instance, it is true. May I ask what you will name her?”
“Georgiana, in honor of the upcoming coronation of our new king, and she is going to rule me. Twist me up in knots, I’ve no doubt. May I sit down?”
After she nodded, he sat at the opposite end of the settee. “As I said, I am here to fulfill a debt for which there will never be enough payment, and before you leap to the conclusion that it has anything to do with the magnificent way you assisted my Lizzie, that is only part of it. Do not be alarmed or run from the room when I tell you this, but I have asked you here to beg you to reconsider your decision to not marry Cameron.”
Every muscle in her body tightened—not only from the mention of Cameron’s name—but from the manner of his request. The word beg was not one she ever expected to hear coming from Asterly’s mouth or even part of his vocabulary. She raced to think of what to say in reply.
The Collyns family had been hugely generous in so many ways. She valued their friendship, and in all honesty, the luxury and protection of the last months had been bliss. If it were not for the need to escape from the pain of never seeing Cameron again, she would be downcast to have to return to the isolation and loneliness of her cottage. She would again have to struggle with the stigma that followed her everywhere, no matter what she did to keep any shred of a reputation intact. No matter how she strived, respectability stayed beyond her reach.
Asterly’s usual direct and crisp way of speaking softened as he continued to entreat. “Mrs. Davidson…Allison, you are so pale. I didn’t mean to alarm you. This is merely a plea for you to rethink your opposition to what would be an excellent solution for you. The return of Cameron’s prize monies, the arrangements made by the late Lord Loverton have provided for a comfortable lifestyle. All of this should weigh heavily with your rethinking of the match. And Cam says that his mother and sister are quite eager to meet you.”
“They have, sir, with disastrous result.”
She couldn’t think or talk about that and sought to move away from the topic until she could bring her churning thoughts back into order. She gently cleared her throat. “You make a powerful advocate for him, sir. May I ask what he did to instill the degree of persuasion you are now employing on me?”
“Is it working?”
“No, but I admit to vulgar curiosity. Sir Harry hinted about the same obligation.” She meant to sound humorous, but sounded stiff when she asked, “Whose life did Cameron save?”
“In a way, our mother’s.”
Her astonishment must have shown. Asterly studied her face with an apologetic smile. He took a deep breath then said, “Very well. At the risk of making him even more likeable than he is, and thereby promoting my present cause, I will explain.”
He stood and began to slowly pace. “As I believe you know, Harry and I were quite destitute throughout our childhood. A friend of Father’s paid for Harry and I to have an education. Mother had sold everything worth anything to keep us fed and one servant in the house. When Harry and I left for school, Mother became desperately lonely. I know this is not typical for mothers of our class, but you see, Mother was a commoner. My father broke the rules and married a dairymaid.”
He paused to watch her strive to conceal her shock. She swallowed in order to reply, “I had not heard.”
Asterly paused to nod and resumed his slow trek around the room. “Those who knew of the misalliance were too affronted to repeat it. The fact of it eventually withered to disinterest. Although the choice of our names revived the gossip for a time.”
“Your names are uncommon, especially Harald. A Norwegian king, I believe.”
“Yes. Mother said when we were born that we would be nothing alike. Where most twins look similar, Harry and I do not. Nor do we have personalities alike. Have you seen the painting of Mother, Harry and I?”
“Yes. More than once, since your brother has one like it at Rolands. She was unbelievably beautiful. Almost magically so. The first time I saw her likeness, I assumed it was the painter’s enhancement.”
Asterly shook his head. “Not at all. Harry was blessed with some of Mother’s beauty and gentleness, her fey charm. She did everything possible to fit into her rôle. Studied, read. Before we were born, Father sent for dancing and music masters, but none of that helped after he died. He’d married for love and not made a match to keep the estate going. It came about that those skills as dairymaid helped us survive, but there was nothing for her after we left her alone in that falling down house. There was no money to send us back to Marshfield. We often stayed with friends, usually with Ravenswold. Ravencourt is in Berkshire.”
He stopped pacing to gaze out a window. “Letters passed back and forth. Harry and I wrote to her but it wasn’t enough. Cameron went to Winchester, and we frequently wrote to each other. It was in one of his letters that we comprehended the extent of her decline.”
Allison waited while he gazed through rain-washed panes. “Did Cameron ever tell you about his pony?”
“Why, yes. He said the three of you played together with his pony.”
“Chudley. Why he called him that, we never knew. Fine looking gelding. Harry and I would have given anything to have one. The only horses we owned were the pair used on the home farm, but Cameron shared. And he adored that gelding.”
He pivoted to face her when the raindrops smearing the windowpanes rushed down with a fresh onslaught. An odd, husky sound in his tone had her staring when he continued.
“One day, Cameron wrote that Mrs. Bradford had called on Mother and was shocked by her condition. Deeply worried, Mrs. Bradford instructed Cameron to tell us that we must return to Marshfield with all possible haste. Cameron knew there were no funds for that. He asked his father to sell Chudley…for the money to get Harry and I home to Mother.”
“Oh,” was all she could say, and blinked away the sting from her eyes.
“Yes, his beloved Chudley. That is our Cameron. He will not hesitate to do a kindness for another. I can’t imagine how it must have gone against his nature to be forced into the violence inherent in piracy. But one must do what one must to survive and like many gentle natured people, the sleeping anger erupts from its lair when pushed too far.”
“Yes, with Father. It was quite as alarming as it was startling and nothing like his nature.”
“Squid used to laugh when Harry and I brawled, but of the three of us, I dare say Cameron would be the last left standing in a fight. He has that core of integrity, an invincibility that will not allow him to surrender, unless it is for another’s sake.”
Asterly pinned her with a direct look. “He will never fail you, never let you down, never love another.”
Stricken by that challenge, she dug her fingers into her palms. Desperation and doubt clogged her answer. “You don’t know…can’t understand. If you did, you would never want someone with my past for a wife to your friend. It is disgraceful enough that I’ve foisted my indiscretions on your house. Do not forget that Cameron is sensitive about his honor. He was concerned he would be subject to that Algiers Act when he was only doing what he must to survive.
When he hears everything about my past, he will be glad to be done with me. So will you.”
Her rambling explanation had taken on a shrill desperation, but Asterly was not moved by it. His attitude was hard and resolute when he said, “I know everything, Allison. Everything. The lost child, the deceit of Albert Davidson, the cruelty of your parents. I care not about that, other than the hurt you endured. I am my father’s son. None of that would have stood in my way if it had been my Lizzie’s lot. The only difference is that Cameron is too gentle-hearted to do what I, or Bainbridge, would have done. But in my case, it came about that violence or outright abduction wasn’t needed. In order to get my Lizzie to agree to marry me, I lied. Would do it again without hesitation.”
His pride in the act shocked her into arguing. “But you wouldn’t kill anyone, sir. Lord Bainbridge, yes, I can see him doing such a thing, but never Cameron.”
Asterly strode to stand in front of the desk, not directly in front of her, yet close enough to present an alarming presence. “Oh, yes, Cameron would. Whether married to you or not, he’d give his life without a moment’s thought, and that’s what he’s doing now. He’s handing you his life by allowing you to run from him.”
She rubbed one temple, trying to absorb what he was telling her. It meant relinquishing all the emotional work she had done to get herself to the point of acceptance, of adhering to her unspoken vow to never see him again. She’d forced herself to this point of acceptance by visualizing Cameron with a suitable wife, a woman fit to be his partner and the mother of his children. It had been necessary to harden her heart to present a disinterested, stoic façade. She feared what would happen if she allowed a crack in that protective wall.
The recent confrontation with the real Mrs. Davidson filled her vision. Worse than the humiliation and shame had been the expressions on Mrs. Bradford’s face, his sister’s dismay and disappointment. How many times had she endured scenes like that, heartache and mortification? That this time it had come from Cameron’s family had been the final stone thrown at the fragment of pride she had left. She stood.
“Allison, don’t. Have mercy on him. On yourself.”
To forestall a reply, she waylaid Asterly with a question sure to distract. “Did he actually sell his pony?”
Wry but still bearing a relentless front, Asterly replied, “His father refused and instead sold a valuable timepiece. Loverton provided a carriage and Mr. Bradford came to fetch us from school. He arranged for us to leave school whenever Mother became despondent. After we used the funds from the sale of the timepiece, we walked to Marshfield.”
“All the way from Berkshire?”
“The first time. Then Loverton took over the costs. Mr. Bradford arranged for that. So you see, Allison, there is nothing that I will not do for Cameron for that unselfish service. If I can feel that sort of obligation to him for saving Mother, imagine what I will do for the person who saved my wife and daughter.”
Hope, small and fragile, flickered from within the weight of despair. It fluttered and grew when Asterly stepped closer and took her hands. “It is over, Allison. You have come home to friends, to a new family, a new life. I swear by all that’s in me, I will see you wed to my friend. I will see you happy, for Lizzie and I will accept nothing less.”
She looked up to search the gentleness that followed his resolute vow. She inhaled a shaky breath and blinked, fearing she would collapse against his solid strength. As hope grew and fluttered back to life, her physical self weakened. Asterly caught her when she began to sink.
A door clicked open. From a distance, she heard Cameron ask, “Is she unwell?”
The rumble of Asterly’s voice against her cheek brought the room back into focus. “Hullo, Squid. Nothing serious, I should think. A bit too much fuss for one day is all.”
Another set of arms, familiar and comfortable, lifted her off her feet. He sat while holding her in a secure embrace and cuddled her on his lap. All the hurt and worry drained away, and she murmured, “You’re so strong, Cameron.”
Asterly chuckled. “I believe that is my signal to leave the two of you alone.”
She might have drifted off for a moment. She couldn’t be sure. Soothing bliss had washed away grief’s crushing dark, replacing it with serenity. Weariness, not altogether unpleasant, had taken its place. Fingertips tenderly rubbed across her brow.
“Cameron?”
“Yes, love?”
“Did I faint?”
“I don’t think so. It was more like a sudden nap. Feeling better?”
“Yes. What happens now?”
He shifted her on his lap so that he could see her face. “Now we take the carriage that waits out front. Your baggage is loaded. We drive down to Kent. Stay with Harry and Olivia while I get the steward’s house in order. Mother and Agnes will come down in a few weeks after the banns have been read. Don’t look at me like that, love. Believe you can be happy. It’s over.”
“But what about your mother? And you? It will be all over town that I never married. Lived a false life. I took part in the destruction of someone’s marriage. How can I ever face your mother again?”
“You don’t know her. Mother and Agnes danced from this house when I told them that we are to be married in a few weeks and we will all be going home and living together.”
“But she heard what—”
“And you weren’t there to witness Mother taking a strip of skin off that female. She already considered you a daughter and was defending you. No one shows a lack of respect for her children.”
She thought about that. “The letters to the Admiralty. She never gave up on you.”
“Allison, she’ll be the mother you never had. We will be happy. I promise.”
“But the gossip.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Neither of us require society’s acceptance. We will have work and the comfort of family and friends. Come away with me, love. I have survived battles and slavery. Gossip is such a flimsy thing in comparison.”
The swell of rising sobs choked off her voice. She flung her arms around his neck, and hoarsely vowed, “Let them try to take me away from my barbarian.”
Chapter 25
Sunbeams slanted through the chapel windows. Allison stood with Asterly on the threshold, her hand on his arm, his gloved palm covering hers. She suspected he still nourished concerns about her fleeing and hoped to keep her anchored to his person. She smiled inwardly. There would be no running away today or ever after.
She looked down the aisle she would walk in a few minutes time and forever be safe and loved, tied for life to the man who taught her to love and trust herself as much as she trusted him. Cameron waited for her at the altar, where he spoke with the priest. Sir Harry sat with his wife and Lady Asterly in the Collyns family pew. Lady Collyns was due for confinement any day, which meant that Lady Asterly’s gift of a honeymoon in Italy had to be postponed.
Mrs. Bradford and Agnes sat across the aisle. Cameron’s sister, twinkle-eyed with excitement, peeked over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers in a wave. Allison sent her a beaming smile in answer. A sister. She had a sister.
“My lord, don’t you find Agnes Bradford a charming girl?”
Sounding only marginally interested, Asterly replied, “Quite. Lizzie has plans for her, I believe, and will offer some suggestions during the breakfast. If we live so long. Squid is holding up the ceremony with his jabbering.”
Asterly glanced around the chapel and inhaled a deep breath of the morning air streaming through the opened doors behind them. “An altogether splendid day. Reminds me of the morning Cass and Rave married.”
“Sunny and peaceful?”
He softly laughed. “Nothing is ever peaceful when Cass is involved.”
“Lady Ravenswold gives that impression, I fear. She certainly intimidates me, and I’ve never been introduced, only seen her from across a room.”
“She does that to everyone. Few know that she’s all mushy inside, like our Camero
n. She’s frightfully loyal, will manage you if you let her. All you have to do is talk about horses and she’ll be your servant for life.”
“A curious thought came to me this morning. It has to do with Chudley. What happened to him?”
“Harry found him before Hammond could call the knackers. Had him taken care of at Rolands. The idea was to keep Chudley alive long enough for Cam to see him one last time. The poor old fellow lost his teeth. Harry had a special mash made up that kept him alive for a while, but Chudley eventually went to sleep in the pasture. Harry had a marker placed where he was buried so Cam could visit him when he came home. We never gave up hope our Squid would be found.”
The gossamer veil on her bonnet whispered against her cheek when she marveled, “You and your friends are so…I don’t know how to express it, but none of you look as tender-hearted outside as you are inside. How many would give so much consideration for a pony?”
“It is not sentimentality, Allison. All was done out of respect for a friend’s thoughtfulness and caring. That pony was meant to save our mother. Chudley missed Cam, used to stand and stare in the direction of the Grange. His devotion deserved as much respect as Cameron’s willingness to sell him for us for our mother’s sake. There is little we wouldn’t do for the man you marry today. And huzzah to you for making the right decision!”
“He has a persuasive advocate.” She glanced up in time to see his smug grin. “You know that my refusal was entirely due to my worry that association with me would tarnish his good name.”
“Silly girl, but I must say that you look divine this morning. Few women can wear pale colors. All the girls coming out are stuck with white, but you look positively angelic. Ah, it appears Cam and the priest are about ready for us.”
