A Captain of Consequence (Westham Chronicles, #2)
Page 11
“Your note...” she stammered, turning back to Amelia. “I did not know what you meant, but I thought...I thought...”
“You thought as I did, no doubt, that this duel is a ridiculous nonsense liable to get somebody shot!” Amelia snapped, her voice echoing in the quiet late afternoon. She scowled at her fiancé. “Certain gentlemen could not be easily persuaded of my concerns, so I knew I must seek feminine help.” She slipped her arm through Grace’s. “And I knew that you and you alone might be the one to help me. Come, Grace, we must walk a little way. Do you think you can manage it?”
Grace nodded, allowing her friend to lead her on and listening carefully as Amelia outlined her plan.
Chapter Fourteen
Arthur had easily found his way to the clearing Crampton had mentioned and was surprised to find himself there alone. He frowned, glancing down at his fob watch. This was the place, was not it? Devereaux had given him the instructions he had received from Crampton’s second and sent him on ahead, while he waited just a moment in an attempt to persuade Amelia to come with them. Were the matter left to Arthur he would not force his sister. He knew she was worried, although she had no need to be. But he had also not lamented the thought of a solitary walk to the place where the duel would take place. He needed to gather his thoughts. He might be all brash and bluster in front of Devereaux, but that did not mean that his sister’s protestations had fallen on entirely deaf ears. He might dislike Crampton and blame him entirely for the mess they now found themselves in - what fool called someone out on a duel over such an imagined slight? - but he did not wish to do the man harm. He kicked at a patch of grass and let out a long breath. He could call off the plan, he supposed, and let Crampton have his victory. It might resolve the Emily problem as well. She certainly did not seem upset by the notion of two gentlemen duelling for her affections. He grimaced. He did not fight to win Miss Emily Hardcastle’s good opinion. If she thought him a coward, so be it. She certainly would not desire to marry a coward. But neither will her sister. The thought was insidious, winding its way into the very core of his brain and teasing at him.
He heard voices and started peering through the trees in the direction of the sound and surprised to discern not one feminine voice, but two. His heart sank. Of course, why was he surprised? Miss Hardcastle had come to witness the battle, so that she, too, might congratulate the victor. It was beyond ridiculous and someone ought to bring it to an end. He would bring it to an end, and never mind the dent to his reputation. He smiled grimly. I have weathered worse.
“Look, Crampton,” he began, as the party drew closer. He stopped when he recognised not his opponent but his friend. Devereaux strode confidently into the clearing, with two young ladies behind him. Amelia, and close beside her, with their arms entwined -
“Grace!”
“Captain Sudbury.” Grace’s voice was quiet, tentative, and she dropped her gaze almost immediately their eyes met as if she could not bring herself to look at him directly.
Arthur turned to Devereaux, silently demanding an explanation. His friend struggled to remain impassive, a sly smile already teasing at his lips
“What is going on?” Arthur demanded. “Where is Crampton?”
Devereaux shrugged his broad shoulders, with one glance silently deferring to Amelia, who dragged Grace closer to Arthur.
“Good afternoon, brother!” she said, briskly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to be standing in a clearing in the late afternoon with a man lacking a duelling partner.
“What is going on, Milly?” Arthur asked, wearily raking a hand through his hair. “You have been meddling, I can tell.” He shifted his gaze to Grace. “Miss Grace, forgive my sister for dragging you into this mess. I have no doubt her motives were pure, but I somewhat doubt -”
“She asked me to come, Captain Sudbury, to stop you...that is, to reason with you.” She let out a sigh and with it all attempt at politeness and propriety. “A duel! What on earth compelled you to do something so idiotic?”
Arthur sank back a step, surprised to hear so matter-of-fact a dismissal from the lips of his dear friend. She was his dear friend, after all, and would happily speak to him the way she always had, for the first time in what felt like a century.
“I was not the one to challenge -” he began.
“But you accepted it!” Grace retorted. She turned to Amelia. “Is it something in their make-up, do you think, that makes men so foolhardy?”
“It must be,” Amelia mused. “For we would never dream of something so nonsensical.”
Her lips quirked into a grin, and Arthur lifted his gaze to Devereaux.
“And what role have you played in this?” he asked his friend. “What happened to I’ll be your second?”
“I am upholding my end of the bargain,” Devereaux replied, laying a gentle hand on Amelia’s shoulder and turning her back to him. She slid her arm free from Grace’s grasp, exchanging her friend for her fiancé. “It is the responsibility of a second to ensure the wellbeing of his friend. What wellbeing could possibly be won by duelling with a fellow who is doubtless less of a marksman than you? You would wound him or by him be wounded, and all for the folly of proving to a young lady you do not care for that you do not care for her.” He shook his head, lowering his voice to a stage-whisper he directed at Amelia.
“You are quite right, my dear. He is without even a modicum of sense.”
“You - you do not care for her?”
It was Grace who had spoken, her words so faint that at first Arthur did not hear them, much less make sense of them. His gaze swept over each of his friends in turn as he began to piece his sister’s plan together. Recalling himself to the present, he swallowed, directing his attention to Grace, and Grace alone.
“No,” he said, honestly. “I do not care for your sister, Grace. I care for - for you. And if we are talking of men’s follies in general and mine in particular then I must own the worst of them is not telling you as much the very first time we met after my return to Westham.”
GRACE’S BLOOD WAS RUSHING so ferociously in her ears that she could not be sure that she had heard Arthur correctly. Her eyebrows knit in a frown and she stared at him, silently begging him to repeat himself.
“Are you not happy, Grace?” Arthur murmured, his own hopeful, happy expression darkening in an instant. He took a step away from her, folding his arms across his front. “Of course you are not happy. You do not feel for me as I do for you - how can you? You wish for me to love your sister.” He let out his breath. “And I dare say I ought to. She is a beautiful creature and accomplished, but Grace she is not you!”
Grace’s mind was a whirl with questions and words she could barely sort into some sort of sense. She could not equate the words Arthur was saying with the fact that he was standing before her saying them at all. It was too wonderful to be true! It was more than she had hoped for, beyond anything she could have dreamt of.
“Say something, please!” he said, at last, his words trembling with a laugh. “You cannot believe the awkwardness of professing your love to a young lady who says nothing in return.” His eyes grew dark. “And to think my sister not only orchestrated this she is witness to it.”
Grace glanced over her shoulder, quite forgetting that Amelia and Sir Benjamin were there, too, several paces back and engaged in a quiet conversation designed to offer Arthur and Grace a modicum of privacy in which to speak. And she must speak. She turned back to Arthur, her heart lifting as she saw the deep concern etched into his face.
“You have surprised me, sir,” she began.
“Sir?” Arthur swore. “As if we are strangers and not children who grew up together!”
“Children?” Grace laughed. “Your memory serves you ill. I was a child. You were a young gentleman with too good a heart to refuse the demands of a spoilt young girl who ought to have known better!”
“We are not so far apart in age now,” Arthur replied, his voice soft. “That is, we needn�
�t be. I know my time at sea as aged me, but -”
“Not to me.” Grace smiled, her heart and her eyes full. “You are the same idealistic young man who was determined to conquer the world. Only now you return a hero who has conquered it. You have travelled further than I could ever dream of travelling, seen and done more than I could even imagine.” She bit her lip. “You deserve much more from a wife than you could ever find in me.”
“Now who is talking nonsense?” Arthur smiled, stepping closer to her once more and holding out his hands to her. “Grace, you have a mind like nobody I have ever met. You have no interest in social niceties or fuss and feathers like almost every other young lady seems to obsess over.” His voice dropped to little more than a whisper and Grace had to lean closer to him in order to hear it. “Did you like Meadhaven? Truly?”
Grace nodded, feeling the pain that had stabbed her heart whenever she thought of Arthur strolling the grounds of Meadhaven with Emily on his arm fade away at the eagerness with which he looked at her.
“I chose it with you in mind. What fun we might have exploring the grounds, and discovering the treasures that are hidden there. I thought you might find plenty of fodder for your drawing, and I hoped - I hoped you might be happy to be there...with me.”
Grace’s throat was tight and she could not speak, though she longed to.
“I see you seek to torment me, still!” Arthur’s eyes twinkled, but there was an uncertainty in the set of his lips. “You have not yet given me a real answer. Am I speaking nonsense? Do you wish me to stop?”
“No,” Grace managed, at last, her voice strangely choked. She swallowed past a lump in her throat and tried again. “I am struggling to know how to respond, to know what to say. I have never had the skill of speaking prettily, the way my sister does, or of knowing how best to speak -”
“Say just what is on your mind,” Arthur instructed, taking her hand in his. “What is on your heart. I do not care for speeches, Grace, for I’ve never been good at making them, myself.” He sniffed. “As I am expertly demonstrating at the moment. Tell me only this. Might you, one day, if not today, love me well enough to agree to spend our lives together?”
Grace nodded, blinking back tears.
“Yes, Captain Sudbury.”
His hand squeezed hers, so very gently, a correction, a suggestion, and she corrected her words accordingly.
“Yes, Arthur. I love you, too.” Her voice dropped to scarcely a whisper. “I think I always have. I just never dared to dream you would ever look at me that way or any way at all.”
“My darling Grace,” Arthur said, his eyes so full of brightness and love that Grace almost felt eclipsed by them. “I could never look at you in any way but this. You are my dearest, oldest friend, the very centre of my heart. Please say you will consent to do me the greatest honour imaginable, and marry me.”
Grace smiled, feeling happier than she ever thought it possible to feel.
“I will.”
Their lips met in a kiss and she felt all of her worry, all the pain she had borne the last few weeks, fade away in the warmth and comfort of his love.
Chapter Fifteen
One kiss was all they were permitted before Amelia ran forward, pulling them into embraces of her own.
“I knew it! I knew it!” she exulted, kissing her brother on the cheek and then tugging Grace into a hug. “I knew you were destined to be together.” She turned back to look at Devereaux. “Did I not tell you?”
“You did,” Devereaux said, with an indulgent smile. “Many, many times.” He stepped forward and shook Arthur’s hand warmly. “Forgive the deception. I had no choice in the matter. Your sister...” He grimaced.
“My sister would have her way,” Arthur replied, with a philosophical shrug. “You need not explain yourself, Devereaux. I have lived with her all her life, and I know well her ability to interfere and have things just her own way.” Managing to extract Grace from Amelia’s ministrations, he dropped another kiss on her cheek, his arm stealing around her waist. “I cannot say, in this instance, that I object. Her way was not mine, but I dare say it was better.”
Another thought occurred to him, blazing through the chaos of happiness that dominated every other corner of his mind.
“Tell me, where is Crampton? What of our duel?”
“You cannot mean to fight it now!” Amelia exclaimed. Grace, too, turned to him with a look of anxiety etched into her delicate features.
“I certainly do not!” he said, with a grin, as he pulled Grace into him. “But I ought to at least shake the fellow’s hand and wish him well in the future.”
“Give it a day,” Devereaux said, wisely. “I am sure right now he is cursing you, although I dare say deep within he is a little relieved at you not showing up to meet him.” His lips quirked. “Another slight deception, Sudbury. The duel as to take place in another clearing, where, I am quite sure, Crampton is at this very moment waiting for his opponent to arrive and claiming the victory in your absence.”
Arthur laughed, amused at the thought of Crampton playing the role of the injured party whose opponent had been too fearful of defeat to even show up when he was secretly no doubt delighted at being spared the ordeal of duelling at all.
“He will call you a coward,” Devereaux continued. “But I doubt any will believe him.”
“He will not dare to do it in my hearing,” Grace said, stubbornly.
“Nor mine!” Amelia retorted.
“He may call me whatever he wants to whoever he wishes,” Arthur said, caring little for the opinion of a man he did not like, now that he had his own future happiness so well secured. “The only people whose opinions I care about are in this clearing with me, save for Father, who knows enough of my actions on board ship to ever credit such a notion as cowardice.”
He turned to Grace, who had fallen silent as he spoke.
“What is the matter?” he asked, fearing that she regretted what they had said, regretted that she had consented to marry him in a moment of temporary madness.
“Emily.”
The single mention of her sister’s name was enough to bring a heavy silence over the whole group.
“I will speak to her,” Arthur began, wishing to save his young bride this most difficult of tasks.
“No, I will do it,” Grace said. “But I think I must do it now, before she hears from somebody else.”
Arthur consulted his watch and agreed that there was no time like the present.
“Then let us both go now. For I must also speak to your father, and better I do it now, before Crampton’s rumours reach his ears.” He rolled his eyes to the sky, thinking of just how many obstacles Mr Hardcastle would care to put in the way of his marrying this daughter, as he had done in response to Arthur’s earlier proposal to his other. How grateful he must be, now, that he had! For without Mr Hardcastle’s objection, he and Emily might have married and been miserable, and he would never know the full weight of the prize he had won in Grace’s heart.
“That is a visit I shall leave you to undertake alone,” Devereaux said, offering his arm to Amelia. “Unless you fear you will require a second for this, too?” His eyes twinkled with merriment and Arthur reached past his sister to land a punch squarely on his friend’s arm.
The two couples walked together until their paths diverged, with Devereaux and Amelia returning to Roland Park together as Arthur walked in contented silence with Grace back to Grafton Hall. They spoke little, feeling that everything that needed saying had already been said. Upon reaching the door though, Arthur stopped, tugging Grace to a halt too and leaning down to meet her gaze with his own.
“Grace,” he murmured. “You must not fret. It will all turn out well in the end. So long as we have one another, what harm could befall either of us? I love you, and will always love you, whatever happens when we walk through this door.”
Grace nodded, the frown that had worn heavy creases into her smooth forehead easing as she drew one last fortifyi
ng breath and stepped through the door.
“Grace?” Mr Hardcastle called. “Is that you? You were gone for a long time. I hope everything is alright...”
“Yes, Papa,” Grace replied, finding Arthur’s hand and squeezing it as they took a step closer to Mr Hardcastle’s study, together. “Everything is alright, now.”
Epilogue
The sun streamed through the wide windows of the parlour at Meadhaven, but Grace Sudbury scarcely noticed it, so intent was she on her work. She was penning a reply to her sister, who had written to inform her that she and Mr Crampton were now happily settled, after their wedding tour, in London. She even went so far as to invite both Grace and Captain Sudbury to visit them in town and allow us to introduce you to all our friends...
Grace’s smiled, grimly, already knowing how such introductions would go. Arthur had little interest in society life and Grace, too, was less than enthusiastic to be paraded about by her elegant, wealthy sister. Mr Crampton’s business interests continued to increase and Emily was more than capable of spending what money he made. So far they seemed to be a very happy couple, and Grace’s happiness with Arthur was made even more complete knowing that her sister was happily wed, too. Upon hearing that Captain Sudbury had chosen Grace, Emily had been hurt and angry, but after no small amount of bitterness and reproach she had relented, accepted Mr Crampton’s proposal, and declared that she had known all along that Captain Sudbury cared for Grace. Now, when she told the story, her own role had grown to be instrumental in the matching of the couple, which caused Arthur to raise his eyebrows and Grace to smile, indulgently, so pleased that her sister was so happy with how things had turned out that she was willing to overlook a little embellishment of the truth.
“Grace?” Arthur’s voice floated through the room, and he followed after it. “Grace? Ah, here you are, dear.” He glanced towards the window. “Devereaux and my sister’s carriage is due to call for us in a few short moments. Are you ready?”