At those accusing words, Nicholas stiffened. “While it is true I have done things for which I am extremely ashamed of, Sir, I would never do anything to harm Miss Wakelin. She has been too kind in her efforts to help me. I would not see her name sullied.” He swallowed, looking away from the vicar’s piercing gaze.
“Then there’s only one thing to do,” the vicar stated.
Nicholas’s head snapped back toward the tall man across from him. “You want me to marry her! That is what all this is leading to, is it not? You feel I have compromised her, so I need to offer to make it right!”
“I should say not!” the vicar all but shouted at him, causing Nicholas to sit back in surprise. “Christina is much too carefree to be thrust into the life of a countess. I would see her married to a nice farmer or small landholder, not to the aristocracy! She would never fit.”
The reasonable part of Nicholas agreed with the vicar that, indeed, she would be better suited to a simpler life. But another part of the earl was captivated by the thought of Christina being his bride. She’d brought so many changes to his life in the short time since he’d found her in his tree. And with the changes had come laughter and brightness to his dark world. He’d come to rely on her goodness even though he pretended he didn’t want it.
What would it be like to have Christina as a wife?
But as he turned his eyes back to the serious stare of the vicar, he knew marrying Christina would never be possible. They not only came from two different social classes, she was much too naïve and innocent, whereas he, sadly, was not.
“Of course, you are right. I apologize for jumping to such an erroneous conclusion,” he answered.
The vicar smiled slightly as if he’d glimpsed what was going through Nicholas’s head. “No harm done. I was merely going to say she must continue to have Helen as a chaperone, and you must never be seen together in public.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “As for the latter, haven’t you heard, Reverend? I never leave the estate.”
The vicar nodded, but if Nicholas thought this was the end of their conversation, he was mistaken. “Now that we have the subject of my daughter out of the way, I would like to ask you something about yourself.”
Nicholas sighed, leaning back in his chair and throwing up his arms in surrender. “Of course you may ask, though I’m sure there’s little you and the rest of England do not already know.”
“I want to know how long you intend to hang onto the guilt that has taken over your life.”
A shadow fell over Nicholas’s face. He did not like the personal turn this conversation had taken. “Guilt?”
“Your father was ill long before you returned from the war and broke your engagement, you know. Several times I visited and prayed with him when he’d had an episode with his heart.”
“But it was my bad behavior that pushed him over the edge, Reverend. I know it was!” Nicholas said harshly, his fists clenched on the arms of the chair.
“Do you not think he knew what the war had done to you? He saw the pain you endured with your leg; he knew the images of battle haunted your every dream and thought. We spoke of it and prayed that God would see you through it,” the vicar tried to explain, but Nicholas would not believe it.
“Yet all God did was take my father from me!” Nicholas growled as he stood and limped to the window, which he now kept opened because of Christina. He deliberately put extra pressure on his leg so he could feel the pain and be reminded of why he’d made the choices he had.
The vicar stood and turned to where the earl was. “It was your father’s time to go, and he was ready for it. His dying wish was to see you happy once again, to have God heal all the bitterness war had put in your heart.”
Nicholas turned to look at Reverend Wakelin, his face ravaged by pain. “How can God heal a heart that is no longer there?”
Reverend Wakelin gazed at Nicholas with compassion. “It is there, my lord, it’s just that it has been broken. You must allow God to mend it back together. He loves you, you know. Even after all you’ve done, God still loves you.”
A tiny spark of hope flickered in Nicholas’s heart when he heard those words, yet he was afraid to believe them. “I will think on all you have told me, Reverend. Thank you for coming by,” he said by way of a dismissal. He didn’t want to be rude to Christina’s father, but he needed to be alone.
The vicar seemed to understand. He nodded to Nicholas. “I bid you good day, my lord.”
Nicholas must have stood looking out his window for an hour after the vicar left. And it might have been longer had he not heard a strange whimpering sound. At first he thought it might be his nephew, but as he listened closer, he realized it was the same strange sound he’d heard before. What in the world was it?
Nicholas moved down the hall following the sound until he came to the closed door that led to the east wing. He stood close to the door and decided the sound was definitely coming from that particular wing.
Nicholas frowned. That wing hadn’t been used since his mother died years before. Had a wild animal somehow gotten into the house?
He was just about to open the door to check it out when Pierce, still holding the baby, swaddled in a blanket, came seemingly out of nowhere. He acted quite nervous as he positioned himself between Nicholas and the door. “Ah, here you are, my lord. I’ve been looking for you.”
Nicholas’s black brow rose as he studied his butler curiously. “Well, you have found me. What was it you wanted?”
Pierce tugged at his collar. “Wanted? Yes. . .well, I. . .needed to tell you something!”
Nicholas sighed, “Of course. You want me to take Ty,” he surmised as he held out his arms.
Pierce stepped away from him with a quick shake of his head. “Oh, no! Master Ty is doing quite all right on my shoulder. We wouldn’t want to wake him by moving him about.” He gave the infant a gentle pat on his back.
Nicholas waited for more, but when Pierce merely stood there staring at him, he prompted, “If the baby wasn’t the reason you wanted to see me, then what was?”
“Oh, of course, my lord! I was to tell you that Cook is preparing rabbit stew for tonight’s meal.”
Nicholas stared at his butler and wondered if poor old Pierce was working too hard lately. He knew good and well Nicholas couldn’t care less about the menu.
Making a mental note to give the man more time off, Nicholas nodded slowly. “That’s fine, Pierce. Now if you’ll move, I will be able to open this door and enter the east wing.”
Pierce didn’t budge. “Oh, you don’t want to venture into that wing, Sir.”
Nicholas was fast losing patience. “And why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s drafty, my lord. Very drafty.”
“I think I can handle it, so please move.”
“But, my lord. . .”
The butler’s words faded as he realized Nicholas was going to get his way no matter what he said. With reluctance, he moved to the side.
As Nicholas opened the door, the musty smell of the unused rooms assaulted his senses. Just as Pierce had predicted, the hall was quite drafty.
The mewing animal sound grew louder. And did he hear the faint sound of voices? Odd.
“My lord, I beg you to rethink—” Pierce attempted one more time to stop him, but Nicholas interrupted.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to hide from me, Pierce, but I’m going to find out,” he stated firmly as he started down the dim hallway.
He heard a nervous “Oh, dear” from his butler, but Nicholas didn’t stop as he made his way closer to where the sound was coming from.
When he reached the old ballroom and stuck his head inside, he saw Christina and Helen sitting in the middle of the room, playing with a litter of puppies.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice sounding harsher than he had intended. But a part of him was irritated she hadn’t told him about the puppies. Why did she feel she had to hide them from him? She had ev
idently even told his butler.
Both young women turned toward him, their eyes wide with surprise at having been caught.
Helen was the first to respond. “Ooohhh, I knew this would happen! Did I not tell you we would be caught, Christina!” She cast a frightened look toward Nicholas. “Please, have mercy on us, my lord. I pray you will not deal harshly because of our harboring these puppies in your ballroom!” She clasped her hands to her chest in a melodramatic fashion.
Nicholas stood nonplussed for a moment, staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. He turned his gaze to Christina, wondering if she suffered from the same hysterics as her friend.
Apparently not, because the woman was actually grinning at him.
“Please excuse Helen, Lord Thornton. She’s quite convinced, because you’ve fought two duels, that you are capable of any manner of dastardly behavior.” She reached over to pat her friend on the arm. “She also reads the occasional gothic romance, and so her imagination tends toward the spectacular.”
Nicholas walked toward the women, ignoring the way Helen shrank back as he drew closer. “And what do you think, Miss Wakelin? Did you think I might have the puppies tossed into the lake if you told me about them?”
Christina frowned at his words. “No,” she answered slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “I merely thought you would refuse to let me keep the puppies here at Kenswick Hall.”
“When have I refused you anything that you were able to contrive in the end?”
The frown disappeared and her sunny smile was back in place, much to Nicholas’s pleasure. “Excellent point, my lord!” She held up a little black and white puppy for him to see. “Now that you know our little secret, why don’t you take a look at our babies? Aren’t they beautiful?”
Beautiful wasn’t the word Nicholas would have used, but he didn’t say so. The pups looked to be a mixture of collie and something unidentifiable. But judging by the large paws on the creatures, he had a feeling that something else was not a small breed.
He stooped down to where they sat, his gaze drawn to Christina. For one breathless moment, he stared at her, wondering what his life would be like if her father had demanded he marry her. Perhaps she would be able to help him as she wanted to do. Perhaps she could bring light into his dark world.
But then what would her life be like? Would she resent being forced to marry him? Would she become like he was—bitter, lost, even angry? Christina Wakelin did not deserve to be shackled to someone like him. She deserved so much better.
Deliberately, he broke eye contact, and in the process his gaze lit on Helen. No longer was her expression fearful; instead, her eyes narrowed with speculation.
What did the little busybody see? Was his attraction for Christina obvious? Surely not. He was always careful to keep his face blank—a trick he’d found useful while leading his troops in the war. Whatever was going through her mind was just as Christina had suggested—the product of an overactive imagination.
“This room is too drafty for the puppies,” he stated, seizing on the first thing that came to his mind. “Why don’t we take them down to the stables? The hay will keep them nice and warm, and Miles, my head groomsman, can look after them when you are not here.”
He saw the wondering look that passed between them as he picked up the box and led them out of the ballroom.
“I missed you at church, my lord,” Christina said, her voice sounding nonchalant. “I had high hopes you would be able to see my father. Whenever he speaks of you, there is a fondness in his voice, you know.”
Nicholas had trouble believing that statement. “No need to fear, Miss Wakelin. Your father saw fit to bring his ‘fond’ voice over to Kenswick Hall this afternoon and pay me a visit,” he replied dryly as he reached the door that led outside to the stables. “Would you be so kind as to open the door for me? I seem to have my hands full at the moment.”
Christina stared blankly at him for a moment until Helen gave her a nudge. “What? Oh! Yes, let me get that,” she mumbled, pushing at the heavy door.
But when they had stepped outside, she said, “I’m sorry, but did I just hear you say my father paid you a visit?”
Nicholas threw her a mocking glance. “Why do you act surprised? Did you not send him yourself?”
She shook her head. “I did ask him to come, but he would not give me an answer. I had no idea he would actually pay you a visit!”
Not quite knowing if he believed her or not, Nicholas stepped around her, resuming his trek to the stable. “Well, he did.”
“But. . .wait!”
Nicholas glanced back to find Christina running to catch up to him. He also noticed Helen had not followed them inside the stable.
Recalling the vicar’s words of warning, Nicholas said, “You better go back and fetch your friend. One of the promises your father extracted from me was that I would not be in your presence without a chaperone.”
Christina stopped just short of running into him, causing them to be no more than a few inches apart.
“Oh, no!” she cried, putting a hand to her cheek. “I wanted him to talk to you about God, but he came to warn you to stay away from me, didn’t he!”
“Not exactly, but he was concerned for your reputation; and I fully agree, Miss Wakelin. I would not see your good name sullied because of me.” He turned and set the box down in the first empty stall he came to.
She followed him. “If I am fodder for the town gossips, then it is no one’s fault but my own. It is my choice to come here, and Papa should not have said anything to you. Please don’t let yourself feel responsible for my reputation.”
Nicholas stared down into her beautiful eyes and wondered about the emotion he saw in them. She looked at him as if she cared a great deal about him. But surely he was mistaken. She had said herself that she came to Kenswick Hall because she’d made it her mission to help him believe in God again. That was all he was to her—just a lost soul in need of guidance.
“What are you doing here, Christina?” he murmured, not realizing he’d used her Christian name. “Why aren’t you being courted by some nice farmer who will give you a home and pretty babies of your own?”
She laughed lightly. “Now I know you’ve been talking to Papa! If he has said that once, he’s said it a thousand times!”
Nicholas didn’t laugh, nor did he smile. “He’s right, you know. There is no reason why you should not leave this place and never return.”
He’d hoped his words would drive her away for her own sake. But as usual she appeared undaunted. “There is every reason, my lord. You need me here, and so does young Ty. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I’m doing something worthwhile, something greater than nursing sick animals or acting as hostess to my father’s congregation.”
Her words filled him with an emotion he was afraid to name. They were like a healing balm to his heart, yet still he felt so undeserving.
“Do you know that when he started speaking of your reputation, I thought he was here to demand satisfaction,” he said.
Christina looked puzzled. “You mean a duel?”
He grinned, shaking his head. “No, I mean marriage.”
“And you told this to my father?” she said, trying not to laugh.
Nicholas could see nothing funny about it. “Yes,” he answered stiffly.
More laughter. “You must give us more credit than that, my lord,” she replied.
“Miss Wakelin, I’m at a loss to see what’s so funny about me believing your father was demanding that I do right by you. It is a natural summation!”
She managed to stop laughing, but she could not seem to stop grinning at him.
“You are a peer. I am a vicar’s daughter. To suppose you would marry so far beneath you, no matter what the reason, would be quite foolish on my father’s part,” she said. Then, turning away from him, she walked out of the stable. “Fear not, my lord! Your bachelorhood is quite safe where I’m concerned,” she called over her
shoulder, the laughter still ringing in her voice.
In three long steps, Nicholas had her by the arm, pulling her around to face him. “Do you think I’m such a cad that I would not do right by a woman?”
She smiled up at him, and he wished he could understand the emotion behind her eyes. “Of course not. But I am aware of my place in society, as I am sure you are also.”
An odd feeling rushed through Nicholas’s mind and heart. It made him want to deny her words, rebel against a society that would make a beautiful girl like Christina think she could not win any man’s heart, no matter what her station in life.
It was that feeling that compelled him to say, “If you are aware, Miss Wakelin, I am not exactly in society’s favor. And, frankly, even if I were, I would not let them be a factor when I chose the woman I would marry.”
“Then you have changed your mind about living the rest of your days in bitter solitude?” she asked.
It struck Nicholas that hiding himself away from society was no longer appealing. He no longer wanted to lick his wounds and live within the bitter darkness he’d enveloped himself in.
No. Not since Christina Wakelin, the vicar’s daughter, had dared to climb his tree.
And had dared to tell him she could never be a suitable match for him.
“Perhaps I have changed my mind after all,” he murmured with a secretive smile.
Nine
“What is wrong with the earl?” Helen asked for the fourth time as they strolled along the path that led into town.
Indeed, Christina concurred silently, what was wrong with the earl? To Helen she merely feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Helen threw her an incredulous look. “You must know what I’m talking about! For the last week, a transformation has occurred. He is no longer glaring at us or hiding in his study. He has actually been smiling, Christina, and has become a permanent fixture in whatever room we are in.” She stepped in front of Christina and put her hands on Christina’s arms. “You must see that this behavior is highly unusual and quite disturbing.”
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