Falling for the Earl: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 12)

by Arietta Richmond

  Chapter Twelve

  Nicholas carried Gervaise straight to a bedchamber, which a maid was hastily preparing. He lowered Gervaise into the armchair near the window, and sent the footman, who had brought his cane, to fetch food and water.

  He sent another to summon Hattam and Felton, who, upon arriving, expressed horror at Lord Woodridge’s state, whilst being overjoyed at him having been found. They immediately set to arranging a bath, and clean clothes.

  Gervaise sat in the midst of it, looking somewhat dazed. Nicholas simply sat with him, unable to find a place to start with any conversation, just drinking in the fact that his son was right there, beside him.

  Another footman had been sent to fetch the local doctor – the one that Julian had, upon Jane’s advice, decided to trust.

  Three hours later, Gervaise was fed, washed, clothed in nightclothes suited to his status, and settled into a most comfortable feather bed. The doctor had been, and pronounced him likely to heal completely, perhaps with a slight limp.

  The fire in the hearth was keeping the room at a pleasant temperature – warm enough that Gervaise was almost asleep. Nicholas looked at him, his heart full of gratitude and joy at his return.

  “Gervaise…”

  Gervaise stirred, and opened his eyes again, smiling.

  “Yes, Father?”

  “The bulk of the tale can wait for tomorrow, for its obvious that you are badly in need of sleep, but… can you tell me how it was that you came to be carried to the door this afternoon?”

  Gervaise laughed softly.

  “For that, Father, you can thank one stubborn woman, who cares very much for your feelings and your health.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nicholas had a suspicion that he knew, but he needed to hear the words – for in that instant, it came back to him that it had been Jane standing beside the litter that afternoon.

  “Mrs Canfield. She had obviously heard something from the villagers of my existence, although I had never given my name to those who had saved me from dying alone in the forest, and saved my leg too. She is astute – I believe that she suspected who I was, from what you had said. She came to visit my saviours, and took the chance to speak to me alone. She rightly identified me, and I did not deny it. But I refused to allow her to tell you – for I still feared that the moneylenders’ thugs would find me, and, given my weakened state, would not only hurt or kill me, but most likely those who cared for me, too.”

  “But surely, I could have protected you?”

  “Perhaps – I can admit that now. But at the time I left London I was still too proud and foolish to tell you all. And I was not sure – I did not want them to find me, and hurt you too. But Mrs Canfield is stubborn. She gave me her word not to reveal me, although it hurt her to do so, for it was obvious that she truly cared for you, and did not wish to see you dismayed. And she kept her word. But as soon as the letter from Pensworth arrived here, she made the first excuse possible to visit me in the woods again, and tell me about it. But, even then, she did not directly reveal me, even though she spoke in front of my hostess – she allowed me the dignity of doing so myself, once I understood that the danger was gone. She again begged me to allow her to arrange for my removal to this house, for your sake, far more than for mine. Knowing I was safe, and therefore so were those around me, I agreed.”

  Nicholas sat for a moment, overwhelmed by what he had just heard.

  Jane. He had Jane, and only Jane, to thank for the return of his son.

  “You are telling me that, without Mrs Canfield, you would still be in a cottage in the woods, perhaps never venturing out?”

  “Yes, that exactly. And I must tell you, though it shames me to admit it, it took hearing her description of how distraught you had been at my disappearance, and how desperately you had been searching for me, for me to see how foolishly proud and stubborn I had been, for all of the time since mother’s death. I am sorry – sorry for all of the pain that I have caused you.”

  The sincerity of his words was obvious to Nicholas, and his heart swelled with pride, that his son was man enough to admit his failings.

  “A year ago, I might have railed at you, for all of it. But this last few months of living without knowing if you lived or died have given me ample time for reflection. I was as proud as you, and just as unable to cope with your mother’s death. I think it best that we leave all of that behind us. Although, I would like to hear the tale in full tomorrow, just so that I understand it all. For now, thank you – for what you have said, for being here, alive. For being you. Know that I am proud of you, Gervaise. Now sleep, for I can see that you struggle to stay awake.”

  Gervaise smiled at Nicholas, allowing himself to relax, fully, for the first time since well before he had left London. As his father turned to leave the room, he spoke again, wishing to say the words in private, knowing that his father needed to hear them.

  “Father. I do not know what converse has been between you and Mrs Canfield, but I know that she is a good woman, who cares deeply about you. If you care for her at all, do not waste this chance. Mother would not have wished you to live the rest of your life alone and miserable. I would not wish that for you either.”

  Nicholas stopped, his hand on the door. He did not turn, he simply stood, allowing the depth of meaning in his son’s words to settle in his mind. Then he nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  He opened the door, and left the room. Gervaise smiled as sleep took him.

  ~~~~~

  As Nicholas left the room, it struck him that he had not seen or heard Jane since that moment outside, when she had taken his hand, and drawn him forward to Gervaise. He had assumed, in that moment, to the extent that he was thinking at all, that she would follow into the house, that she would be there… later. But she was not. Had not been. Where had she gone?

  Gervaise’s words had unlocked something in him, some tight and painful place he had kept hold of since Clara’s death. In the light of the last few hours, his thoughts of the last few months seemed foolish, and excessive. He had not, in the end, lost Gervaise. Those dark thoughts, where he feared all love, assuming that it would end in pain, now seemed overly dramatised and unreasonable. But the way he had felt, when with Jane – that, when he looked back, was the only time that he had been rational.

  The feelings he had for Jane were far deeper than he had admitted to himself. And Gervaise was right – he should not waste such a chance. Clara’s last words to him, exhorting him to find love again, to honour her by being happy for the rest of his life, came back to him now, as if she whispered in his ear. He could almost imagine her telling him to stop being a fool. He straightened his shoulders, and strode down the hallway, to seek out the footman who had opened the door for them, and ask where Jane had gone.

  “Mrs Canfield, my Lord? She did not come into the house. She saw the men who carried your son on their way, and then I believe she returned to the Dower House.”

  “Thank you.”

  Tomorrow. He would go to her tomorrow. He would not disturb her rest now, for it was late, but tomorrow, he would see her and, somehow, he would tell her how he felt. He would risk being rejected – for he was not, entirely, certain of how she felt towards him - but he was full of hope. She had, after all, not rejected his kisses, and she had, most cleverly, discovered his son’s hiding place, when all else had failed. And Gervaise said she had done so for him – did she truly care as much as Gervaise thought? Nicholas certainly hoped so.

  Once he had eaten, and spent some time with Julian over a glass of port, Nicholas took himself to bed, suddenly feeling the tiredness borne of months of fear roll over him like a tidal wave.

  ~~~~~

  The following morning, Nicholas rose, dressed with unusual care, and went first to see Gervaise, who looked much improved for a good night’s sleep on a soft bed, in a warm room. Once he was assured that Hattam had settled into the adjoining valet’s room, attached to the dressing room, and that G
ervaise was receiving all the care he should be, Nicholas went to break his own fast.

  He was nervous, he realised. It reduced his appetite, and made him disinclined to conversation. If he had seen another man reacting as he was, he would have been amused – now that it was himself, he found it rather more difficult to laugh. He could not, in good conscience, go to see Jane too early. That would be impolite in the extreme. But all he wanted to do was rush out the door.

  He forced himself to wait, to settle and read until a suitable hour. Julian and Sylvia regarded him with an almost indulgent air, sharing a smile between them as they left him to the quiet of the library. One would almost think that they knew of his intentions. Perhaps they did. The thought was not reassuring – was he so obvious?

  Once the hour finally crept past midday, Nicholas rose, gathered up his hat and coat, and set off down the drive towards the lane to the Dower House. It felt odd to be seeking Jane that way, rather than through the gardens and along the stream. But for this day, some formality seemed called for.

  As he traversed the path that led to the front door of the Dower House, he looked at the beautiful gardens surrounding it from a wholly new angle. They did not disappoint. Whoever had designed these gardens was skilled, and the current gardeners maintained them perfectly. He looked over the hedge to his right, and saw Jane, some distance away, surrounded by roses and trailing flowering vines, which had been trained over a shaded pathway, beside which a bed of mixed coloured flowers lay.

  He paused, caught by how beautiful she looked, as vibrant as the flowers that surrounded her. He continued, and discovered a small gate, set into the hedge. All thought of formality fled – his only thought was Jane. He opened the gate, and stepped through onto the rich green grass of the gardens.

  His steps were silent on the grass, and she was not aware of his presence until he was almost upon her. She looked pensive, a flower in her hand, which she twirled idly, as she had the red flower on the first day he had seen her at the folly.

  He stopped, simply watching her for a moment, his heart swelling with the intensity of his feelings for her. He stepped onto the finely gravelled path, and she turned suddenly, startled by the sound so close. Her hand went to her breast, and the flower fell from her fingers. Nicholas bent, and retrieved it, offering it solemnly to her with a bow.

  She smiled, laughing, and took it, returning him a curtsey.

  “Nicholas, you startled me so! I did not expect you…” she waved her hand around, indicating the direction he had approached from, “here.”

  “I do apologise for surprising you. I wanted to see you, to be sure of seeing you. I thought… I thought that approaching from the front of the house was, perhaps, a more certain way to do so.”

  She laughed again, shaking her head.

  “I am sure that, if you wanted to find me, you would, regardless. For we seem to have strayed ever farther from our agreement to keep the rest of life apart.”

  “Does that distress you, Jane?”

  “Only a little. For I find that I am happy to see you, no matter the context.”

  At her words, his heart beat faster, and he felt flushed, suddenly terribly nervous again. He stepped forward, until he stood very close to her, reaching out to take her hands in his. He took the flower, and slipped in into her hair, before returning his grasp to her hand. She looked at him, wide eyed, uncertain. He smiled, lifting her hands to his lips, to kiss them gently.

  Her breathing was uneven, and a flush rose to her cheeks. He thought it made her even more beautiful.

  “Jane…”

  “Yes, Nicholas?”

  Her voice was soft, breathy. He swallowed, then plunged on. This was not a time to hesitate.

  “Jane, I want to thank you – for giving me back my son, more, for giving me back my life, for helping me to see that the world is not a dark and lonely place, unless I make it so. Thank you for simply being you – for you are a more wonderful woman than I ever deserved to meet. I have realised that I have come to care for you deeply, far more deeply than I ever expected, far more deeply than I ever admitted to myself – until last night. I can lie to myself no longer – I would be more than a fool to do so. I love you, Jane. I never thought to love again, but I do – I cannot help myself, even if I wanted to – which I don’t. Could you… could you ever come to care for me Jane, as more than a friend, more than someone to share a stolen kiss with, in a time outside of real life?”

  She stared at him, her mouth a little open in a silent ‘oh!’, her eyes wide. Her hands shook in his. He waited, almost shaking himself, his future now cast into her command. He was afraid, terribly afraid, and yet he could not, truly, imagine a world in which she was not his.

  “Nicholas… I… it is not a matter of coming to care for you that much. For I already do. I love you, Nicholas, and I think that, in some way, I have done so from that first moment that you lifted me up from a bed of grass and flowers.”

  He discovered that he could breathe again. She had said… she had said that she loved him! The world seemed to spin around him and he was filled with a kind of delirious joy.

  “Then… Jane… will you marry me? I cannot imagine living without you…”

  She gave a strange gasp, on the edge of laughter, and nodded, the flower in her hair shedding petals as she did.

  “Yes, oh yes, Nicholas! People will talk, for I am so far below your station in life… but… if you are willing to face that, then I will proudly be your wife.”

  “I care not for the approval or disapproval of the ton – all I care for is you, and making you happy.”

  He pulled her into a close embrace, and her hands naturally slipped around his neck, as his slid around her waist. His lips came down upon hers, and the kiss was filled with far more intensity and passion than any kiss before it. She surrendered to it, melting against him, her mouth on his as hungry as his on hers. He tightened his arms around her, lifting her off her feet and spinning around, allowing his joy to drive the movement. In moments he was giddy, but he did not care – he had not felt so free or happy for many years – not since before Clara’s illness began.

  She clung to him, and their lips parted a moment, as they both succumbed to joyous laughter. He spun, and the giddiness intensified, until his foot caught on the edge of the flower bed, and they tumbled, laughing harder, to land amongst the flowers.

  He looked at her, and saw her, again, as he had that first day.

  There were flower petals in her hair, and scattered on her dress – she looked, as she had then, like a young girl, who knew the joy of spring but had yet to discover the pains of the world. He bent to kiss her again, as they lay there, gently, slowly, savouring every second of it. When they broke apart this time, he smiled, a lazy smile full of happiness. He could not resist.

  “I think that you will always look best amongst flowers – preferably with flower petals in your hair.”

  ~~~~~

  Jane laughed at his words. She seemed to be doing very little but laugh, and kiss Nicholas, but that seemed, in that instant, the best possible combination of things to be doing. She felt as if she was 17 and discovering love for the first time. This was so different from the love she had shared with Peter – perhaps age allowed one to appreciate things more.

  She had been shocked when he appeared in the garden, and, despite her certainty that he would leave soon, now that Gervaise had been found, she could do nothing but smile at him. When with Nicholas, it seemed, it was impossible for her to retain any sense, or any doubt. And then... then he had shocked her to the core, by saying that he loved her! She had hoped, but… to have it confirmed was beyond wonderful. When he had been so honest about his feelings, she could do no less – she was far too old for blushing dissembling – and had hoped for those words for far too long to hesitate.

  Now, as she lay amongst the flowers, she felt dizzy – and not just from being spun around in his arms, but from joy.

  This feeling was utterly intoxicat
ing. They lay there amongst the flowers for some time, allowing the truth of it to settle around them, like the scattered petals. They would have time – the rest of their lives. Neither would have to be alone and lonely. She could imagine nothing more perfect than life with Nicholas.

  Eventually, though, her practical nature asserted itself.

  “Perhaps we should rise. Our clothes will have suffered, and I suspect that your valet may never forgive you. The gardener will certainly not forgive us! And… I think that I want to rush up to the Towers and tell everyone our news. Is that silly of me, to want to behave like a green girl?”

  Nicholas laughed again, easing himself out of the flowers, and offering his hand.

  “Not silly at all. I find myself in complete accord with that plan.”

  Epilogue

  The news had been received with enthusiasm by everyone, and, when the banns were called in the Bridgemere Village church, all of the villagers were agog at the news that another ‘one of their own’ was to become a Countess.

  Jane still walked to the village, and insisted that they all still call her Jane, for, she reminded them, she was still the same person they had known for so many years.

  At the end of the month, as spring moved towards summer, the church was crowded with family and friends, and the residents of the entire district. There were flowers everywhere, a kaleidoscope of colour.

  In contrast, Jane wore a dress of a simple dark cream shade, which made her stand out dramatically against the vibrant tones of the flowers. Everyone agreed that it was the most beautiful wedding they had ever seen, with much sighing over how obviously in love the bride and groom were.

  When it was done, as they left the church together, Nicholas pulled a few bright red flowers from the arrangements they passed, and tucked them gently into Jane’s hair. They shared a secret smile between them, only they knowing why he had done so. As they stepped out of the door, Gervaise stood to one side, carefully supporting himself with his new, and far more impressive cane, whilst Hattam hovered nearby, in case he was needed.