by Rose Pearson
“Thank you, mama,” Jacob replied, truly appreciating her thoughtfulness. He had not thought of getting a cane himself, although whether that came from his own pride and stubbornness, he could not say. However, this cane was quite wonderful, and looked both sturdy and well-designed. He would not have to struggle on the days when his leg was very bad. “I shall make use of it this very afternoon.”
The Duchess looked relieved and gratified when he kissed her on the cheek, testing out the strength of the cane as he walked about the room with it. “You are to go out walking this afternoon?”
“For a short time, yes,” Jacob replied, not giving away the fact that he was not looking forward to such a thing at all. The idea of walking at the moment was not one that he relished, given how bad his leg was, but he was determined not to fail. The cane would help him enormously, he was quite sure. “I am to meet Lord Halesworthy and his sister at St James’ Park for a stroll around the grounds.”
“Lord Halesworthy?” his mother repeated, frowning, only for a spark of recognition to come into her expression, “yes, of course. He has a younger sister, did you say?”
“I did,” Jacob replied, with a grin, “but I fear that I may have to disappoint her, if she is hoping that I will ask to call upon her, or the like.”
The Duchess laughed softly. “She does not know your heart is drawn to another.”
“And I find her rather forward and lacking in compassion,” Jacob admitted, quietly, his smile fading, “although I shall be glad to spend a little more time in Lord Halesworthy’s company. It has been some time since I last saw him and I will be glad to continue our acquaintance.”
“I am glad,” his mother replied, with a sigh of contentedness. “This is what I wanted for you, Jacob. I wanted you to find yourself again, to find your place in society and to see that you are as much a gentleman as you ever were. This is quite wonderful to see.”
“Then you have Lady Arabella to thank for it all,” Jacob replied, as he made his way towards the door, finding that the cane took a good deal of pain away from him as he walked. “She brought a light back to my heart and to my mind that I could not have found on my own.”
The Duchess smiled fondly, her eyes warm. “I shall make sure to do that,” she replied, with an arch of one eyebrow. “Mayhap even this very day.”
Walking in St James’ Park was not as much of an ordeal as Jacob had thought. It was a bright, beautiful day and both Lord Halesworthy and his sister walked at a relatively slow pace, although whether that was for his benefit or so that they might greet all the other members of the ton who came to the park, Jacob could not quite say.
“And so, you are to be the heir,” Miss Halesworthy murmured, as her brother stopped to speak to another acquaintance. “That is quite fortunate, I must say.”
Jacob bristled inwardly, looking into her pale green eyes, and wondering if there was truly innocence within her or just a lack of tact and sympathy. “Indeed,” he said, “but I cannot see what is fortunate about my elder brother being dead and buried.” He had not meant to speak with such vehemence but the way Miss Halesworthy spoke rattled him.
To his utter surprise, Miss Halesworthy simply laughed. “Oh, no, you quite misunderstand me, Lord Jacob. I mean that it is fortunate that you have returned from the grave, as it were. It is fortunate that the family line can be continued, that your father has not lost both his sons as he had first thought.”
A little deflated, Jacob dropped his gaze. “Oh. I quite understand.”
She patted his arm, as though he were a little child who had made a foolish mistake. “You must not think so poorly of me, Lord Jacob, else I fear I shall never make a good impression upon you.”
He managed a tight smile, wishing that Lord Halesworthy would finish his conversation so that he might join them again. “You need not worry, Miss Halesworthy,” he said, the lie coming quickly to his lips. “Now that you have explained, I quite understand what you meant.”
She laughed. It was a childish sound, although her lips curved in a most pleasing manner and her green eyes sparkled – but Jacob found himself quite unmoved. She was nothing compared to the raven-haired, emerald eyed Arabella.
“Come now, you must tell me all about what you endured in defending our beloved country,” Miss Halesworthy insisted, looping her arm through his in a most forward manner. “I have often thought about following the drum, although of course I have never done so.”
Instantly repelled by the idea of sharing his memories about his time at war, Jacob shook his head. “It is not as wonderful as one might think,” he stated, firmly, not at all enjoying the way that Miss Halesworthy was hanging onto his arm, for her weight seemed to bring a fresh pain to his leg. “I would not speak of it to anyone.”
“Oh, but you need have no fear in shocking me or the like,” Miss Halesworthy replied, quite briskly. “I have a good deal more strength than you might think.”
He shook his head, silently praying for some respite from this cloying young lady. “You quite misunderstand me, Miss Halesworthy. I would not speak of it to anyone not for their sake, but for mine. The thought of it quite repels me. I have endured too much to be able to speak of it freely.”
“Oh.” Miss Halesworthy actually sounded disappointed, as though he was somehow letting her down by refusing to say a word. “I had thought you would have wonderful tales to tell of bravery and victory, Lord Jacob.”
He grimaced, his mind struggling against all the dark, painful memories that threatened to crash over him. “Memories of the stench of blood, the dreadfulness of death being in every step you take – that is all I have, Miss Halesworthy. Victory or not, there is no beauty in war, no tales of delight or merriment. It is a time when one is grateful for every breath, when thoughts of balls and soirees, of ease and comfort, are all flung far from you. No, Miss Halesworthy, there is nothing wonderful in anything I have to say.”
Miss Halesworthy stopped in her slow walk and looked up at him, her eyes wide and a paleness about her cheeks that he had not seen before. Jacob did not regret a single word he had said to her, finding himself almost glad that she had been quietened with such swiftness. Hopefully, she would learn not to speak to him of such things again.
“You have endured a very great deal, I think, Lord Jacob,” Miss Halesworthy said, at length, as Lord Halesworthy hurried to catch them up. “You are quite right to gently rebuke me in the way you have done. I was much too foolish, I think. Much too inclined to think of it as something to be considered with laughter and merriment rather than with the severity it deserves. I do apologise.”
A little taken aback by her frankness and her ability to see that she had been ridiculous in the extreme to speak about the war in such glowing terms, Jacob inclined his head. “I am grateful, Miss Halesworthy.”
“Of course.”
The colour was slowly returning to her cheeks, he saw, for which he was grateful. The last thing he needed was for Miss Halesworthy to faint in the middle of St James Park!
“Are you quite all right, Miss Halesworthy?” he asked gently, looking down into her face. “I did not mean to –”
“I am perfectly all right,” she promised, a faint smile touching her lips. “I was just a little surprised at what you said of the war. It is not at all what I had expected you to say.”
He chuckled. “I can see that.”
“Oh dear,” Miss Halesworthy sighed, looking quite abashed. “I am rather ridiculous, am I not? Foolish and mutton-headed.”
“It is not quite as bad as all that,” he said, reaching for her hand, and squeezing it gently so as to reassure her. “You need not be concerned.”
“Good afternoon, Lord Jacob, Miss Halesworthy.”
The familiar voice of Lady Arabella had him jerking in surprise, looking up from where he had been gazing down at Miss Halesworthy. Arabella was looking at him with a small, tight smile on her face, a flickering of emotion in her eyes.
“Miss Halesworthy was just fee
ling a little faint,” Jacob said at once, without even greeting Arabella. “She is feeling a good deal better now, however.”
Arabella’s expression flickered with concern. “You are quite all right now, I hope, Miss Halesworthy?”
“Quite,” Miss Halesworthy replied, looking quite relieved. “Lord Jacob mentioned something about the fighting he has had to endure and I found myself caught quite unaware.”
Heat crawled up Jacob’s spine as he saw Arabella’s startled expression. He could only imagine was she was thinking, wondering why to goodness he had begun to discuss the war in great detail with a refined young lady such as Miss Halesworthy.
“I had asked him, you see,” Miss Halesworthy said, bringing a wave of relief crashing over Jacob’s head. “It was quite ridiculous, of course, for my ideas about war are not at all what it is like, I think.”
“No, indeed not,” Arabella murmured, astonishment slowly leaving her expression. “It is not something I have often considered an easy topic of conversation.” Her smile was small but it now, at least, lacked the tension that had been there only a few moments ago. Jacob let himself breathe a little easier, aware that Miss Halesworthy was still holding onto his arm.
“I do apologise for my tardiness,” Lord Halesworthy exclaimed, a little out of breath as he reached the three of them. “Goodness, the Park is quite crowded today, is it not!”
Miss Halesworthy giggled. “It is near the fashionable hour, I think, although most will be making their way to Hyde Park if I am not very much mistaken.”
Jacob, who did not care for such things, attempted to keep walking so that they would not hinder others who were walking by in their twos and threes. Miss Halesworthy laughed and wrenched his arm slightly as they began to make their way along the path again.
Arabella caught his eye, a slight frown on her face as she saw the ripple of pain cross his expression – a pain that he had tried to hide from everyone thus far. Her eyes went to the cane in his left hand, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. Jacob felt his heart lift, relieved that she could see what it was he was struggling with as well as his reasons for hiding his difficulty from Miss Halesworthy herself.
“It is rather hot, is it not?” Arabella said, abruptly, directing her words towards Miss Halesworthy. “Look, there is a delightful little situation over there. Do you see it? A few benches underneath those wonderful leafy trees. Would you care to sit for a time, Miss Halesworthy? Getting out of the sun for a short time would do me a world of good, I am quite sure.”
Miss Halesworthy, to Jacob’s great relief, let go of his arm almost at once to walk beside Lady Arabella, seemingly quite eager to do as Arabella had suggested. “But of course,” Miss Halesworthy exclaimed, leaving Jacob a few steps behind. Lord Halesworthy had, of course, stopped to talk to yet another acquaintance, for he was quite inclined to become distracted from whatever it was he was meant to be doing – which was accompanying his sister and Jacob on a short stroll through the park.
Jacob smiled to himself as Arabella led Miss Halesworthy towards the benches, allowing himself to slow just a little. There were a few others walking past him by now, all eagerly chattering away to one another or murmuring quietly so that their conversation would not be overheard by others. Jacob nodded and smiled to a few but attempted to keep his eyes fixed on the path ahead, relieved that the pain in his leg was now a good deal less than it had been when Miss Halesworthy had been tugging on his arm.
Suddenly, something shoved into him, hard. He stumbled, only for a foot to kick out at his injured leg. A cry of pain escaped him as he fell, the cane flying from his hand as he crashed to the ground.
“Jacob!”
There was a good deal of commotion, with both gentlemen and ladies stopping at once to see what had occurred, but Jacob found himself dazed and a little confused, slowly realising that he was lying, face down, on the graveled path.
His head ached, his hands and knees burning. The pain in his leg was almost unbearable and he had to force his lips to remain closed against the shout of agony that he was desperate to release.
“Jacob.”
Arabella was beside him in a moment, after shooing the rest of the spectators away. Lord Halesworthy’s voice was growing louder, as though he was hurrying towards them, but still Jacob could not quite make sense of what was going on. The haze of pain was making it difficult to think clearly, his eyes squeezing shut as he attempted to lift himself from the ground.
“Carefully, now,” came Arabella’s gentle murmur. “You must make sure you have not hurt yourself further.”
“Up you come, old chap,” Lord Halesworthy said, his voice encouraging and yet filled with concern. “That was a nasty fall.”
Jacob opened his eyes and pushed himself up to sitting, touching the side of his head, and feeling his fingers come away sticky. A shudder ran through him. He was bleeding.
Immediately, a thousand sounds roared in his ears, visions of the fighting he had endured coming back to his mind. The same, sickly stench of blood poured into his nostrils, making him fight for breath.
“Jacob.”
Arabella’s voice broke through the din, her gentle hands capturing his face for a brief moment. “Jacob, look at me.”
Slowly, he opened his eyes, panic attempting to take hold of him still.
“You are quite all right,” she said, gently, looking into his eyes. “You are safe. It was just a little fall, that is all.”
Looking all about him, Jacob realised that either Arabella or Lord Halesworthy had ordered the rest of his ‘spectators’ to remove themselves from where he now sat, evidently not wishing for him to have any further embarrassment. He was more than grateful for that, his mind slowly clearing itself from the terrors that had assailed it only a few moments before.
“I – I do apologise,” he muttered, a cold sweat now settling over his skin as he tried to collect himself. “I fear my mind has not yet fully recovered from my time away.” A harsh, dark laugh ripped at his throat. “I am broken in both body and mind, it seems.”
“Not at all,” Lord Halesworthy said, in a strong, confident voice as he helped Jacob to his feet. “Come, you must come and rest for a few moments. In fact, I think I may have to send for a doctor, given the state of you!”
A violent shudder racked through Jacob’s frame. “No, not the doctor,” he stated, through bruised lips. “Not the doctor, I beg you.” He did not want to have to explain his reasons for such a refusal, but a look towards Lord Halesworthy told him that he understood, although he had no experience of such things. There were many stories told of how surgeons and doctors killed the men they tried to save. Unfortunately, Jacob had witnessed some of those particular horrors when he had been fighting. Little wonder that he did not want to see one now.
“I am quite sure I will be well looked after once I return home,” Jacob continued, sitting down, with relief, on the bench. “Please, you need not worry.”
Arabella murmured something under her breath, something he could not quite make out, but Lord Halesworthy nodded in her direction.
“But of course,” he said, taking a step back from Jacob. “My sister can remain here with you both. I will not be long.”
“I thank you,” Arabella replied, with a quick smile, although it faded just as quickly as it had appeared. “We will remain here.”
Lord Halesworthy made to move away, only to return and hand Jacob his large, white handkerchief. “Here,” he said, gruffly. “I think you may need this.”
Jacob accepted it, a little confused, only to feel something warm begin to run down the side of his forehead. Pressing the handkerchief to it, he realised that it was blood.
“You have scraped your forehead rather badly,” Arabella murmured, looking at him with concern. “But Lord Halesworthy will return soon with either a hackney or his carriage, and I am sure that you will be home within the hour. As will you, Miss Halesworthy.”
Jacob, realising that Miss Halesworthy had not
, as yet, spoken a single word since the incident, gave her a quick glance, only to see that she was as pale as milk and trembling slightly, although for what reason, he could not quite say.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Halesworthy?” he asked, as gently as he could. “You appear a little overcome.”
Miss Halesworthy’s nod was minuscule. “It is just the blood,” she whispered, her hands clasping together tightly in her lap. “I fear that I do not do well with the sight of it.”
Jacob saw Arabella pat Miss Halesworthy’s hand gently, an encouraging smile on her face, and found that he could not help but compare the two women. Arabella was strong and steadfast, able to stomach his injuries without even a quiver, whereas Miss Halesworthy was clearly unable to do any such thing. Arabella had pushed away the onlookers without hesitation, her authority ringing out, whereas Miss Halesworthy had been forced to take a seat and remain there. Not that there was anything wrong with being unable to stomach the sight of blood, even if it was only a little, but Jacob found that he now admired Arabella even more than he had done before. She was everything he desired in a wife, and now that they had found the beginnings of the friendship that had once been between them, Jacob discovered that, yet again, she was all that he longed for.
And still, he knew, she could not be his. Not when she was engaged to another. Would that change if she still knew the depth of his affections? Would she be willing to cry off if he could offer her his heart anew?
“You look troubled, Jacob.”
Arabella’s eyes caught his and he was shaken by the strength of her gaze.
“Does your head pain you badly?”
He managed a tight smile. “A little, but it is of no trouble.”
“And your leg?” she asked, a little more quietly. “Was it because of your leg that you stumbled?”
Jacob frowned, recalling with absolute clarity what had occurred. “No,” he said, slowly, seeing the alarm rise in her expression. “It was not my own doing, Arabella.”
She made to ask him another question, her eyes a little wide with horror, only for Miss Halesworthy to make an exclamation. Jacob looked over Arabella’s shoulder and saw a hackney approaching, with Lord Halesworthy leaning out of the window.
