No mention was made of Trevor since their return, which greatly satisfied Taylor’s sensibilities. Every night the image of Trevor lunging at Blake filled her mind. She closed her eyes as the image struck her anew. It seemed even here at Shelby Manor, her childhood home, she couldn’t be content.
“You have a visitor,” Robert said.
She widened her eyes in mild surprise. No one had come to the manor since immediately following their return, when all and sundry in Arundel felt the need to call upon them and welcome them home.
“Who is here, Robert?” she asked.
“Your husband.”
She clutched at the back of the bench for support. As if in a dream, Blake stepped out of the parlor and into the garden. My God, he was beautiful. Clad in clothes befitting a baron, his face wearing a cautious smile, it was all she could do to keep from flying into his arms. Had he come to dissolve their union properly? She unconsciously stroked her still-flat belly.
“Blake,” she said.
With the tapping of his cane and the click of closing doors, Robert left them. Blake stepped closer and she fingered the back of the ornate bench. He reached out and stilled her hands. “Don’t fret, love. I’ve come to ask your forgiveness.”
Taylor blinked at him. He laughed shakily and kissed her fingers.
“I was wrong,” he said. “About so many things. I can’t live without you, and if that makes me selfish—”
“It doesn’t,” she said.
His mouth was set in a thin line. “I love you, Taylor. Pray, tell me you still love me?”
How could she make him see that what she felt for him was so much more than that? She took a breath and spoke.
“When I was a child I followed you about, Blake. Dreamed of you. Fantasized about you. I thought of you as the perfect boy for me.”
“You thought that? Of me?”
She flushed a bit but nodded. “Yes. Even after you asked that horrid Pamela to marry you.”
“Christ, don’t bring that up.” He didn’t look angry, just adorably chagrined.
“And, after coming to The Hideaway, I began to see you as the perfect man.”
His brows arched. “I’m far from perfect, love.”
“Oh, I know that now.”
He gave a short laugh. “No doubt.”
“I told you I love you.” She couldn’t keep the sob from her voice as the pain of the memory stabbed at her. “And you dismissed it.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m so sorry love . . . but you know what a clod I am.”
She found a smile at that, and with a shaky breath, said, “And yet, I still love you.”
“You still love me?”
His eyes held such hope, such worry that he might have lost her, that she lost her composure then. “Yes, I love you.” She threw herself into his ready arms. “I love you, Blake.”
They settled on the iron bench and Blake once more took her hands in his. “I was a bloody fool, as both your brother and mine were so astute to point out to me on numerous occasions.”
“Yes, you were,” she said with a smile.
“Minx,” Blake teased. “I thought we’d spend a few days here at the Manor, if that pleases you.”
She nodded. “Oh, yes.” She took in a shuddering breath. “I can scarcely believe you’re here.”
“I am indeed in Sussex, love. And I intend to settle here, save for traveling to The Hideaway now and again.”
“You . . . you’re staying in Sussex?”
He slanted her a look which he softened with a kiss to her nose. “Did you think I wouldn’t learn of your visit to my father? Thank you, my love. You humble me with your devotion. You never gave up on us—on me. For that I shall be eternally grateful.”
Tears filled her eyes anew and he kissed her hands as he continued. “I stopped at the Hall on my way here, and the old man instructed me to bring you for a visit directly.” Blake smiled. “You’re a ‘member of the family,’ he insisted.”
“Family,” she mused aloud as she settled against the bench.
“My father loves you already,” Blake said. “There’s nothing to fear from that quarter.”
She laughed then, light and free, and placed her hand on her belly. “I have something to tell you, Blake.”
His brow furrowed for an instant before a bright smile broke out on his face. He drew her to him and she brought her mouth to his. He pulled back and began kissing her eyelids, her wet cheeks, her stubborn chin. “A child?” he asked with wonder.
“A child,” she said, nodding happily.
They sat together for a long time on that beautiful afternoon, kissing and touching, whispering words of love, and making plans for their future. At last he was home, and so was she.
Epilogue
April 1823
Blake stood in the doorway to his office at The Hideaway, the image within causing his heart to give a welcome clench. Taylor stroked her rounded belly, her face tilted to the bit of late afternoon sun through the mullioned window. Her golden curls caught the light; her silken skin glowed with health and vitality.
One sniff told him Mrs. Mott had supplied Taylor’s favorite treat: her now-famous cinnamon rolls. The plate sat untouched on his desk. A niggle of worry struck him and he stepped into the office. “Are you all right, love?”
She turned and favored him with the most beautiful smile, her dimple deepening. “I’m fine, Blake.”
He gave a nod and joined her at the window. Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he rested his hands on her belly. The kick that once again met his touch never ceased to surprise him. “The babe is well?”
A soft laugh came from her. “I believe she’ll come soon.”
He stared at her exquisite profile until she turned her head and met his gaze.
“She?” he asked. A slight shrug was her only answer to that question. “Do you have any discomfort?”
She leaned away from him and placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t fret. Dr. Hendricks has been placed on alert, hasn’t he? It won’t take him long to get here from London, it’s only a few miles, darling.”
He grinned a bit sheepishly. “I admit I’ve called on him several times this past fortnight. Just to make sure he would be ready when the time comes.”
She nodded and picked up a cinnamon roll from the plate. After taking a delicate bite, she chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “I heard from Robert today.”
“And how does he fare?”
“His leg still troubles him, especially during the frequent early spring rainstorms,” she said. “But he feels more himself each day.”
“He looked well enough when last we paid a call on him.”
Taylor let out a sigh. “But he’s so melancholy.”
Since Blake had found surprising satisfaction in assisting his father in running the Thompson estate, Robert had taken on the sole responsibility of many of his and Blake’s cases. Blake only hoped the work would bring Robert back to himself.
“He’s no missish girl, Taylor,” Blake said. “He’ll rebound.”
She shook her head and dabbed her fingers on a linen napkin. The Hideaway catered to those of quality these days, and the trappings of finery suited themselves easily under Taylor’s frequent supervision. “Robert needs someone, Blake. Someone to love.”
Blake rolled his eyes heavenward. “Pray, don’t think to set on him at present.”
She grinned and stroked her belly. “I want everyone to be as happy as we are.”
“That, love, isn’t possible,” he said.
Her blue-gray eyes sparkled up at him. He bent to kiss her when a frown suddenly wrinkled her brow. Her belly tightened against his, and she winced. Unease filled him. “What’s wrong, Taylor?”
She took a breath and threw him a look of irritation. “Send for Dr. Hendricks, Blake. I believe your child wishes to make her appearance.”
Suppressing his growing alarm, Blake hurried to send Billy for Hendricks. The doctor arrived soon eno
ugh, but it felt like an eternity for Blake. After his brief and circumspect examination Taylor was settled in their chamber abovestairs, Annie and Sally attending her as Mrs. Mott barked out instructions. One glance at Taylor’s face easily showed Blake she’d stubbornly refuse to allow any misfortune to befall their babe. But he also saw her pain, and it nearly killed him that he couldn’t spare her this.
He stomped down the stairs to find the doctor comfortably settled in the dining room. “Do something, Hendricks!”
The doctor clicked his tongue and helped himself to a bowl of Mrs. Mott’s fine beef stew Polly set before him. “The child won’t come for hours yet, Lord Thompson. And if you insist on keeping me here, I intend to avail myself upon The Hideaway’s delicious fare.”
Blake growled and paced about the hallway, just outside the dining room. Polly offered him a look of compassion before seeing to the other diners oblivious to the amazing circumstance abovestairs.
Several hours later, the pub was long silent and dark save for one lamp set on Blake’s desk. At a soft knock Blake looked up to find Hendricks in the doorway.
“You have a daughter, Lord Thompson,” he said.
A tired smile was fixed on the doctor’s round face, and Blake could only stare dumbly at him for a long moment.
“W-what of Taylor?” Blake asked. “Is she well?
“Mother and child are doing well. Her ladies have seen to her and she awaits you abovestairs.”
Blake left his office and flew up the staircase. He rushed into the room and found before him the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld. Taylor sat on the big bed, blue and silver pillows piled around her as she beamed a weary smile at him. Wearing a gown and wrapper of snowy white lawn, her golden curls glowing in the candlelight, she looked like an angel. The tiny bundle in her arms, wrapped in similar pure white linens, drew him closer to the bed. Annie, Sally, and Mrs. Mott had apparently taken their leave; he was alone with his family.
His family.
His throat tightened as wonder caused his eyes to tear up.
“Come meet your daughter, Blake,” she said.
Taylor lifted the bundle slightly, her graceful fingers folding back the linens that covered it. A glimpse of a perfect little face, framed with a few wispy golden curls, told him he had another tender duty in his life. He touched the baby’s downy cheek and she opened her eyes to stare up at him. His heart seized as his daughter’s gaze locked on his.
“She’s the picture of you,” he said.
“Save for her eyes,” Taylor said. “I see you there.”
He settled down beside her. The baby yawned and closed her eyes once more, settling comfortably against Taylor’s breast. She smiled down at the child before glancing around the chamber.
“What time is it?” Taylor asked in a whisper.
Blake peered at the clock on the mantle. He leaned toward her and placed his brow against hers. “It’s precisely the hour another fair-haired beauty burst into my life nearly a year ago.”
Taylor laughed softly at that and Blake carefully draped one arm around her. He dropped a kiss on his sleeping daughter’s brow.
“Thank you, Taylor,” he said. “For coming to me that night. For everything you’ve given me.”
She gazed up at him, love shining in her eyes. He kissed his wife then, tenderly.
“You came into my life, love, and drew me back to the living. I’ll not lose myself in others’ concerns now.”
“No more hiding from your family?” she asked softly.
“Or from my heart,” he said.
And thanks to Taylor, he’d never hide again.
About JoMarie DeGioia
JoMarie DeGioia is a bestselling author of Historical and Contemporary Romance. She’s known Mickey Mouse from the “inside,” has been a copyeditor for her tiny town’s newspaper, and a bookseller. A hybrid author, she also writes Young Adult Fantasy/Adventure stories and Paranormal Romance. She gets lost in DIY projects around the house and works out plot ideas during long runs. She divides her time between Central Florida and New England.
Connect with JoMarie online:
website: www.jomariedegioia.com
e-mail: [email protected]
Twitter: @JoMarieDeGioia
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