"He...he did?"
"And if you want to be rid of Mistress Weston I suggest you make her a little payment to see her on her way." Meg had new ways now, better ways, to be rid of her problems and to help other people be rid of them too. "I can contribute, and surely Albert will be willing to offer something to the cause. I know how fond he is of keeping a quiet estate. I'm only surprised he has not thought of it already."
The other woman sniffed mournfully. "What if she would not take the money?"
"I can assure you she will."
Minty suddenly clutched for her hand. "How do you know?"
"Because I talked to her and she has no great desire to stay with your cousin. I think a suitable purse of money will make her not only quit Holbrooke, but give him up. Mistress Weston is a lady who likes to travel, and she likes falling in love. But her affections soon wane and wander. In fact, the first sighting of another handsome man and Hugo will be quite forgotten. It might be a kindness to him now if they are separated."
"Albert would not give them any money to leave. He says that to give money to people like that only encourages their worst vices. I have always helped Hugo with my own coin. Albert holds his purse strings exceedingly tight. Certainly he would give nothing to that woman. He says she's a," Minty lowered her voice to a scandalized whisper, "trollop."
"Yes," Persey smiled. "I know how frugal he can be and how pompous. But Kit—Katherine must be dealt with in a manner that suits everybody, so you and I shall manage it without him. That's what we women are best at, after all."
For a few moments, Araminta sat at her mirror, sniffing and dabbing at her nose again, wiping off the second lot of powder. Eyes red and watery, she surveyed Persey's reflection behind her own and said, "Why are you helping me then?"
"Because it's time we put our swords aside for the good of the estate. We can achieve much more together than we can by fighting each other."
Lips wobbling, the younger woman said suddenly, "I want to assure you that...I was not aware...I did not know about the child you lost. Albert very recently told me."
Persey swallowed and took a step back, hands smoothing down her bodice. "It was a long time ago. Before you came here, of course. You could not have known."
"However long ago it was, I am quite certain the pain remains as it was the day it happened. I am sorry if I have been the cause of further grief by trying to keep Honoria away from you. It was foolish of me, but I have felt alone here. I wanted an ally. I went about getting one the wrong way, I fear. Out of desperation."
Perhaps, with her own impending motherhood to face, Araminta's eyes were finally opened to more than her own needs.
"I'm sorry too. I know what it is to feel alone, as if there is nobody in the world on your side. I should not have been so quick to think ill of you." As she patted Minty's shoulders she felt them heave slightly and then a tentative smile lifted the reflection in the looking glass.
"Well then, how much money shall we offer Hugo's trollop?"
Together they came to an acceptable sum, although the actual amount of coin was reduced at the bargaining table when Persey came up with the idea of supplementing the offering with several cases of that very good wine from the Holbrooke cellars and a few gowns from Minty's wardrobe.
"You cannot return and ask for more," she warned Kitty. "The marchioness is not likely to look kindly upon you a second time. This agreement must suit all parties and be final."
"Have no worries on that score, Persephone, for I have just met a very charming fellow by the name of Thornby. He wants to show me his peaches. Says they must be the biggest ones I've ever seen. I'm partial to peaches, as you know."
The lady was partial to anything in quantity, of course. The more the merrier.
"Do be gentle with Lord Thornby. He is a very nice man."
Kitty bounced with chuckles. "Friend of yours, is he? Then he's a friend of Lady Kitty's too. I shan't forget the favor you did, getting my money back for me. You always were a good girl."
As for Hugo, he disappeared from Holbrooke two days later in some hurry. After Josias Radcliffe offered him work.
Peace was restored to Holbrooke.
Albert stayed at home with his wife, showing only slight distress when asked to rub her feet.
In time Lady Honoria, who still insisted she never wanted to marry, began to express the opinion that Francis Chelmsworth was not quite so "wet" after all. Persey, unable to stop herself from meddling completely in other folk's affairs, bought him extra thick gloves so that he would not complain of blisters when he took the young lady rowing. And advised him to stay out of the weeds.
Lady Flora, after inheriting a vast sum from her great aunt, bought a house of her own not far from Holbrooke, where she was soon busy planting grapevines, walking about scandalously barefoot, and fermenting her own infamously curative wines— with some assistance from Persey. But her duties as godmother to her best friend's first child distracted her frequently and very pleasantly. For a while at least. But that is a story for another time.
Chapter Twenty-Four
For several weeks Joss had forbidden her from going to the forest clearing. She knew he had a surprise up his sleeve, but Persey could never have guessed what waited for her there. Finally, when he was ready, he took her by the hand.
It was early morning, the birds just awakening. Feeling a little out of sorts, she wanted to know why it had to be at this hour of the day and why she could not have been left to enjoy her dreams a while longer.
"I've not even had breakfast!"
"It'll be worth it, woman. I promise."
Of course, he always kept his promises.
When she saw the folly he had built for her, Persey was rendered speechless as if someone had finally put that scold's bridle on her.
High into the trees it stretched, but in a circuitous route— like their relationship, as Joss pointed out— leisurely twisting through the branches it met on its way up, the man-made structure moving aside for the trees and nature, instead of the other way about.
She took the steps up to the very top and he followed in the narrow space.
"It's not finished yet," he said.
And she turned to him with teary eyes. "Don't finish it. Leave it this way. I don't ever want our story to be finished. It can't be."
So he vowed to leave it that way, a monument to their eternal, never-ending love.
"When we are ghosts, you and I, we'll come back here to find each other," she said as he put his arms around her. "Promise me that too."
"Well, that's a cheerful thought."
Sometimes she forgot he was sunlight and she was the dark. But they were both creatures of nature and they had managed to find each other again, just where day faded into night, when the light was magical and awe-inspiring.
People who stumbled upon their tower in later years, knowing nothing about the man who created it or about the woman he loved, thought the building a peculiar folly. Peculiar and beautiful and, perhaps, haunted. On grey days it looked somewhat eerie. That, of course, was when she loved it most of all.
* * * *
"Now that you've given me this wonderful gift," she said, while his arms were still around her and they watched the sun rise together, "I have one for you in return."
He kissed her. "I don't need any gifts. I have what I always wanted."
"Regardless of that, you romantic fool, this is a gift you cannot refuse. It's too late to return it. And it's your fault."
When she turned her head to see his expression it was steadily awakening and warming, like the sun. His eyes were liquid chocolate, she thought.
Hmm now she was hungry again, when, moments ago she was nauseous. He had a lot to answer for, this damned gardener with his fancy ideas. Who did he think he was, anyway?
Suspecting her condition a few days ago, she'd told Albert and Minty her plans and asked to stay at the dower house, until it was ever needed for anybody else. The marchioness liked the idea of
having Persey nearby to help her with the birth of her own first child. Besides, how could she pass up the chance of having the fashionable and much in demand Radcliffe living on her estate? It would certainly give her social events an added allure if he made an appearance. So she had no objection. And Albert, grateful for the buried hatchet that now took the place of buried bodies, agreed.
"So now you have to marry me, Radcliffe."
"Such a charming proposal." But his hands slid down to her stomach and he laughed softly, bewildered. "You're sure?"
"Very definitely. He's already plotting."
"Stories or gardens?"
Persey considered and placed her hands over his. "Both."
Happiness swelled within her heart as she felt his strength around her and let her head rest against his shoulder. It was far more than a wretched girl like her should ever hope for. She imagined Mistress Cosgrove's voice, "Who did you think, you are? Looking so smug and sly."
I'm anyone and anything I want to be.
And now I am loved. Wouldn't they all be surprised to know it?
That made her the luckiest scullery maid in the world. With love, the giving and receiving of it, life and laughter was limitless. Indeed, if she reached up her hand now, thanks to this beautiful, remarkable man, she could touch the sky.
Epilogue
1810
His grandson had tugged on his sleeve and now looked up at him, waiting for something. An answer to another of those endless questions probably.
"Was she a beautiful angel, grandpapa?"
"What?"
The little boy raised his voice to shout. "Was she beautiful? The angel that fell to earth with the broken wing?"
"Oh, yes. She was the most beautiful creature I ever saw. And you don't have to shout, I'm not deaf."
The lad looked skeptical. "You were far away, grandpapa."
"I was. Far away in the past. For a while." He looked again at those unexpected flowers growing in twisty vines up the stone tower. A bird must have dropped seeds there. Seeds carried from some exotic place perhaps.
"When we are ghosts, you and I, we'll come back here to find each other. Promise me that too."
Again he heard her voice, clear as a bell.
"An angel with a broken wing? Is that the best story you can come up with, Radcliffe?"
He turned and saw her coming toward him, stepping carefully over the knotted roots and bowing ferns.
"Grandmama, look! It's the tower grandpapa built. He made it for the angel to hide in until her wing was mended and then she flew away."
Persey laughed. "Did he indeed?"
When she got to Joss's side, she slipped her arm under his and whispered, "You old romantic fool."
There was more silver than amber in her hair now, but it was still lush and tempting for his fingers. Her eyes had not changed as far as he could see, neither had her lips, although they smiled and laughed more than they ever had when she was younger. Yes, there were a few more lines on her face as a consequence. He loved every one of them, knowing he'd helped to put them there.
"It's going to rain. Best go back to the lodge."
Their eldest son would be leaving soon with his family. It had been a pleasant visit. Whenever the grandchildren came, Joss liked to take them on a tour of the grounds he'd redesigned thirty years ago. And if they were good he'd bring them to the forest clearing. They never tired of it. Neither did he. Even winding up the cheerful automaton monkey and his cymbals came second in entertainment to that walk with grandpapa into the forest.
"How do you know it's going to rain?" he muttered. "Your old bones playing up again, woman?"
"Yes," she replied, pert.
"I remember when you didn't mind a bit of rain so much, in this very clearing," he teased. "When we took shelter together as best we could one night."
"Don't get any ideas. Even you won't like sleeping outdoors anymore. The ground feels harder and colder when you're not thirty."
Their grandson, trying to understand the whispered conversation, chirped up, "Were you the angel he found here, grandmama?"
Before she could answer, Joss replied with a smile. "Yes. She still is."
She always was and always would be.
His long-legged Meg, the angel with a broken wing.
Also from Jayne Fresina and TEP
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The Savage and the Stiff Upper Lip
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Storm
Chasing Raven
Ransom Redeemed
Damon Undone
Pumpymuckles – A Deverells Story
Ladies Most Unlikely
The Trouble with His Lordship’s Trousers
The Danger in Desperate Bonnets
A Private Collection
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jayne Fresina sprouted up in England, the youngest in a family of four daughters. Entertained by her father's colorful tales of growing up in the countryside, and surrounded by opinionated sisters - all with far more exciting lives than hers - she's always had inspiration for her beleaguered heroes and unstoppable heroines.
Website at: jaynefresinaromanceauthor.blogspot.com
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The Peculiar Folly of Long Legged Meg Page 27
