The Reckless Love of an Heir
Page 34
His father had told him of this emotion but Henry never could have imagined the feeling. He and Susan had created this little being. She had come from Susan’s body, where she had been cradled out of sight for months, felt but not seen, and here she was. A girl. Juliette.
He leant and pressed a kiss on her soft cheek. She smelled of milk. He straightened and kissed Susan’s cheek. “May I take her to show everyone?” Susan looked so tired she would probably be glad to be left alone. It had taken a day and a night of pains and labouring for Juliette to come.
“I think your Papa and mine will be very upset if you do not.”
Her eyelids drooped; she was so tired. “I shall keep her with me then for a little while and let you sleep.”
“Thank you.”
She let him lift their daughter from her arms, and then slid down the bed to lay on the mattress. Her eyes closed immediately.
His heart brimmed so full it might burst, Henry walked quietly from the room his eyes focused on his daughter whose gaze focused on him. “Juliette.” With her cradled in one arm, his other hand touched her fingers and instantly she grasped hold of his thumb.
He treasured the little embrace.
Pride. Love. Adoration… The emotions within him were ten thousand times greater than he could ever have imagined.
When he reached the stairs he let go of Juliette’s hand so he could hold the bannister as he walked down. The excited chatter from the drawing room spilled out into the hall. Of course they all knew his daughter had arrived. His mother and Susan’s had been with her through the labour and brought the news down to the drawing room. He’d gone up alone. But now it was for him to introduce Juliette to their families.
He walked across the hall, a smile splitting his lips as Samson came out of the drawing room, tail waving. Susan had refused to leave Samson at Farnborough to pine. “Here she is, Samson, Juliette,” Samson sniffed her head. “Now you must watch over her, just as well as you do over Susan.”
A smile swelled from Henry’s heart as he straightened and walked on.
“Ah, here he is!” Susan’s mother cried as Henry entered the room. “Look! Is she not the most beautiful baby?” She rushed across the room and stroked a finger along the side of Juliette’s cheek. Juliette’s gaze did not leave Henry. He offered her his forefinger and she grasped it. Then he looked up to see everyone coming to surround him; his parents and Susan’s, and Alethea and Stourton, and Edward and Ellen, who’d called at a timely moment.
Juliette had arrived three weeks before she was due, and made her appearance only a week after Alethea’s wedding.
“She is so tiny,” Alethea whispered as she leant to see.
“May I hold her?” Susan’s father asked.
Henry smiled at him, pride a strong sword lancing through his heart. “Here.” He passed Juliette over, but she refused to let go of his finger. His thumb brushed across the tiny fingers that continued to hold his. He lifted them to his mouth and kissed the back of them before peeling them free, feeling the cut of emotion through his chest and the tears in his eyes.
His father’s hand settled on his shoulder. Henry turned and embraced him for a moment. Now he understood so much more of the things his father said and felt.
He let his father go, but his father’s arm remained about his shoulders as they turned to watch Susan’s father and the women cooing over Juliette.
When the first flourish of fuss had passed and a fresh pot of tea had been ordered for Henry’s benefit, Henry’s father said, “I think it must be my turn.” He walked across the room to Susan’s mother who was the current keeper of Juliette. “May I?” He held out his hands.
Henry watched him, a little in awe as his father bent and lifted Juliette from Susan’s mother’s arms.
His father had, only to Henry, admitted that he’d been a little peeved that Susan and Henry had not stayed at his London home, but as it had been Susan’s sister who was married it had been right that they stayed with her parents, so that Susan could be with Alethea and help her prepare. But perhaps it had been too many trips to the haberdashery and the dressmakers that had brought Juliette into the world early.
His father encouraged Juliette to hold his finger then walked with her to look out of the window into the street. He was whispering to her. Telling her something that looked of great importance.
Henry stood up and walked over to join them, Samson accompanying him. “What are you telling her, Papa?”
His father looked at him and smiled. “I am telling her about her father and her family.”
“What about us.”
“My father would have loved to have known you, and he would have loved to have known your daughter. Your grandparents would have been very proud of you.”
“Proud…” Henry smiled.
“Yes, and if William is watching us too he would be happy for us. You once said he would have disliked it if I did not continue to give my all to Gerard and Stephen, the same applied to you, and now to your daughter. My first grandchild.”
Henry wished to hold his father, as he saw moisture in his eyes, but Juliette was in his arms. They both looked at her, as she looked up at Henry’s father. Henry wondered what Stephen and Gerard would make of a niece…
Susan had not woken when he retired immediately after dinner. She lay asleep in the bed as Juliette lay asleep in her cot. He undressed quietly and slipped in between the sheets next to Susan. The world became peace as he lay close to her. The sense of home wrapped about him with Susan’s warmth beside him and the smell of her in the air he breathed.
Home was no longer a place he travelled to, or returned to. Home travelled with him. Susan was his home, and now Juliette…
His heart swelled and ached with a sweet sensation as he wrapped his arm about Susan and drew her against his chest.
She whispered, “I love you,” her breath stirring the hairs on his chest. Then drifted back into sleep.
He kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”
Author Note
This story is a little different from the others in the Marlow Intrigue’s series, in that it wasn’t inspired by a real life historical story. But having written Henry’s father’s story in The Passionate Love of a Rake, when the series moved on to the characters’ descendants, I wanted to give Robert’s son a story too. Then of course there were the Forths who paid such an influential part in The Illicit Love of a Courtesan. So Robert’s and Jane’s son and the Forth’s daughter were brought together and the idea of the story unfolded. Of course as always the settings are inspired by the real places I visit and you can see all the pictures on my Pinterest and Facebook pages. The other real life inspiration that did influence the characters, if not the story, was that I was reading Jane Austen’s letters at the time and her letters to her sister very much influenced Susan’s scenes with Alethea. It is quite funny reading Jane Austen’s letter’s, especially when she writes her early letters to Cassandra about gossip and teasing and flirting with gentleman, and dancing happily or trying to avoid it with unpleasant partners. She writes some very cutting descriptions of some men while describing other’s as Beauties, yes, with a capital B. It was amusing too to read her mentioning a gentleman’s ‘fine eyes.’
Also by Jane Lark
The Secret Love of a Gentleman
The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
The Desperate Love of a Lord (A Free Novella)
The Scandalous Love of a Duke
The Lost Love of a Soldier
Capturing the Earl’s Love (A Free Novella)
The Passionate Love of a Rake
The Illicit Love of a Courtesan
Jane Lark
I love writing authentic, passionate and emotional love stories. I began my first novel, a historical, when I was sixteen, but life derailed me a bit when I started suffering with Ankylosing Spondylitis, so I didn’t complete a novel until after I was thirty when I put it on my to do before I’m forty list. Now I love getting caught
up in the lives and traumas of my characters, and I’m so thrilled to be giving my characters life in others’ imaginations, especially when readers tell me they’ve read the characters just as I’ve tried to portray them.
http://www.janelark.co.uk/
@JaneLark
About HarperImpulse
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