“No!” Lydia cried. Everyone turned to stare at her. This was not her business to interfere, but she couldn’t stay quiet. “Your son is a true hero, not only in my eyes, but to all the thousands of people he has assisted over the years. I’ve seen him at work at the terminus, for that is where we met. I was a nurse, destitute and alone. I had no one and nowhere to go. But I heard of this place, where an angel of mercy doctor treated those who were cast aside from society.”
She gulped, as emotions caused her voice to shake. “Harrison saved me. And so many others. He may say that he kept it secret to protect himself, but no man who would give much of his soul did so for that reason alone. He wanted to protect you all. I truly believe that. Society is brutal in its judgments. I know.” Lydia looked down at her clasped hands, knowing she had gone too far. The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could halt them.
Harrison stood by her side, laying his hand on her shoulder. “You see why I am falling for this lovely woman?”
She looked up at him and smiled.
“Please forgive me. I humbly apologize for keeping this from you. I will never do such again,” Harrison said to his family. Emotion made his tone tremulous.
The duchess hurried toward Harrison and embraced him, and they both stood together for several moments. When they parted, the rest of his family came to him, accepting, forgiving, and Lydia dashed a tear from her cheek. A loving family. Though it was only her and her father for years, witnessing the love and respect between the Hornsbys had her grieving for what she lost. Would she ever have it again?
She locked gazes with Harrison, and he gave her such a heated look her heart skipped a beat. What the future would hold, Lydia had no idea. Could there be one with Harrison? Dare she hope? But one thing was certain. Witnessing Harrison own up to his mistakes gave her the courage to accept her own, and move forward toward a brighter future.
Chapter 18
Harrison awakened the next morning feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his heart and soul. He acknowledged his mistakes, asked forgiveness, and now the next phase of life lay before him. Over breakfast, he’d informed his family of his plans for a permanent clinic-shelter, that he’d spoken to the earls, and he wanted his family involved with the planning.
It was to their credit they acted enthusiastic about his plans, truly forgiving him for his thoughtlessness and selfishness. He’d also told of his intention to secure Lydia a position away from London—and danger. Lydia bravely gave a shortened version of her downfall, and her honesty merely opened his family’s hearts to her. Harrison was glad; he wanted them to like her. Accept her.
After a hearty breakfast they climbed into the carriage to take the short journey to the residential home. Spencer came with them, and Taylor rode a horse alongside the carriage acting as bodyguard. Did Robins locate Huntsford? Take him into custody? Harrison could only hope.
“How are your studies going, Spence?”
His brother continued to look out the window. Tremain told him earlier that Spence rarely left Philomena’s side, so the fact he volunteered to come with them was a surprise. “Phil is my life now. I still research, but not like before. She is expecting.”
Harrison patted his brother on the knee. “Congratulations to you both!”
“Yes,” Lydia smiled. “The very best to you both.”
Spence gave them a brief smile. “Justinian and Theodora will be pleased.”
“Who?” Lydia asked.
“His Irish wolfhounds. Part of the family to be sure,” Harrison replied, giving her a wink.
“How wonderful,” Lydia said. “I’ve read they’re gentle, a perfect breed to have with children.”
Spence gave Lydia one of his rare warm smiles. Lydia treated his brother with respect, was not taken aback by Spence’s detached air. It made Harrison love her all the more.
Once they arrived, they were greeted at the front entrance by an attractive middle-aged lady with red hair. She held out her hand. “Welcome! My name is Megan Hughes-Wollstonecraft Eaton. Quite the mouthful, isn’t it? You must be Lydia Chesterton.”
Lydia shook her hand. “And this is the Marquess of Tennington and his brother, Lord-Professor Hornsby.”
After the introductions, Mrs. Eaton slipped her arm through Lydia’s. “I am eager to show you all about the place. It’s a particular project of mine, from the time I was fifteen. We have expanded; there are two more homes similar to this one, in Somerset and Dover. So if this location doesn’t suit, I’m sure we can place you at one of the others.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Lydia murmured.
“The marquess stated you’ve had a bad run of late, if someday you wish to tell me of the particulars, I am a good listener. A celebrated nurse from St. Thomas’s Hospital in London? We would be pleased to have you,” Mrs. Eaton smiled warmly. “For as long or as short of a period as you like.”
They entered the front hall, and Harrison was struck at the brightness, the large windows, and the cleanliness. Vases of wildflowers adorned every desk and table giving the atmosphere a pleasant early summer look and smell. Though the place was named the “Hornsby and Wollstonecraft Residential Home,” he had not been here since the opening when he was a child—though he gave a stipend every year to the cause. His mother in particular often visited and kept the family informed of any developments and improvements, and how their monetary contributions were put to good use.
“Not all of our staff lives on the premises, so there are a few rooms vacate. Here is the one I thought you would like.” Mrs. Eaton stepped aside to allow Lydia to enter.
“Better than asylums,” Spencer interjected as he glanced about his surroundings. To think doctors recommended Spencer be sent to one. Thank God his father had the foresight to refuse.
“Much better indeed, my lord,” Mrs. Eaton replied. “Our patients are treated humanely, with respect and care specific to each individual case.”
Harrison had to admit the room was a good size. A small fireplace, a round table and two chairs in the corner, an armchair by the fire, and a large bed with accompanying dresser and wardrobe. Paintings of ocean waves adorned the wall, which was decorated in a light sand shade.
“In the rear is a water closet, basin, and small tub. We have modern plumbing. In behind that is a small storage area for your personal use. Three doors down is the staff kitchen, a place you can heat water for a cup of tea, make a sandwich and the like, outside of the full meals served in the dining room. Would you like to look around?” Mrs. Eaton walked over to the window and pulled the curtains aside. It was a glass door, leading out into a garden area.
“Oh, how beautiful,” Lydia gasped.
“Why not take a stroll about the flowers and shrubs while I take the marquess and the professor to the office for a moment? Then we will continue with the tour.”
“Thank you, I would like that very much.”
Harrison’s heart stuttered in his chest. Lydia liked this place, he could tell. It was a serene environment for her to continue to recover. And be about her nursing career once again. Harrison took one last look at her as he headed into the hallway. There was no doubt of it. He loved her, more than life itself. All he wanted was for her to get well. Regain her sense of worth. And, maybe someday, love him return.
* * *
Lydia sighed contentedly as she stepped onto the stone path. Already she decided to take a position here, even without the rest of the tour. She knew enough at first glance that this was a well-run home, clean and fresh and bright, the few patients she’d seen were kept busy with various activities, they were well cared for. Loved. Treated with dignity. Isn’t that all anyone ever wanted, no matter the circumstances?
Removing her gloves and tucking them in her cloak pocket, she then trailed the tips of her fingers along the top of a manicured shrub. Without warning, a rough hand clamped against her mouth.
“Keep quiet. You’re coming with me. Where you belong,” a foul breath hissed in her ea
r.
Huntsford! Do not panic. Keep your wits. Stall him from leaving, for Harrison and his brother will return any moment.
The gardens were not in a courtyard, but they opened up into the rear of the home. That must be how he accessed the property. My God, he followed them here? All the way from London?
“If I release my hand, you will not scream, correct?”
She gave a quick nod. As soon as he moved his hand, the barrel of a revolver jabbed into her side. Lydia turned slightly, catching a glimpse of his face. He looked disheveled, his pupils dilated. Of course he was under the influence. “Why can’t you leave me be?” she whispered. “Why do this? You’re not thinking straight. It’s the opium, the morphine; it has twisted you beyond recognition.”
He’d always been possessive. At first she’d reveled in the attention, but it soon got out of hand with the increase in his drug use. Like now.
“I am not your possession to do with as you please. Our relationship turned toxic. It’s ruined, John, beyond all hope. You know this. I’m trying to get my life back on track; I would suggest that you do the same. Please, I beg you.”
He snorted. “A pretty speech, acting like you care a damn. Why do this? Because you are mine. No bloody marquess is going to take you from me.” Huntsford pulled her against him, his erection prodded her back and her insides tumbled with revulsion. “Remember how it was between us? We can have that again. I still have drugs left from the theft. We can play as we did before, me rubbing the powder on you while I pound—”
“Release her at once, Huntsford!”
Harrison and his brother. Relief covered her at the sight of them. Mrs. Eaton looked on in shock. It was then she noticed Harrison had a revolver of his own. Oh, no! The last thing she wanted was for Harrison to be injured in any way.
Huntsford moved the barrel of the gun to her temple. “Back away, my lords. And Tennington, lower your pistol, or I may have a fatal accident with my own,” he spat. “We’ll be leaving now. You’re coming with me, aren’t you, love?”
“Y-yes. Whatever you want. I will come with you. Don’t hurt anyone.”
Huntsford backed up several steps, yanking Lydia along with him. Her mind raced. Kick his leg? Elbow his guts? Could she move swiftly enough to escape being shot? Huntsford was capable of it. Could she scramble far enough away for Harrison to take a clear shot?
With that thought barely formed, a thunderous bang exploded. Lydia thought: that’s it, it’s the end.
But it wasn’t her that screamed. Or Harrison. Huntsford fell to his knees, dropping the revolver, then held onto his left shoulder, blood trickling between fingers.
“An excellent shot, Robins. Well done,” Harrison said.
Lydia whirled about to see Mr. Robins, Taylor, and two other men with guns drawn.
“We followed him here, my lord,” Mr. Robins said. He held up a carpet bag. “What remains from the St. Thomas theft. Found it in his rented room in Hastings. We’ll take him into custody. Put him up at the local jail until we can make arrangements for his transport to London.”
“Very good, Robins,” Harrison nodded.
Taylor hurried in and gathered up Huntsford’s revolver.
“Huntsford will need medical care for he is under the influence,” Lydia murmured. Then she cleared her throat and spoke louder. “The withdrawal from the opium.” Why she even cared about Huntsford’s fate—well, she was a nurse.
“Mrs. Eaton, is there a dispensary at the home? Do you have cocaine?” Harrison asked.
Mrs. Eaton stepped forward, shock still registering on her face. Huntsford could have spoiled Lydia’s chances in working here. For what he put her through, Lydia should let the miserable man shiver and vomit in a damp prison cell.
“Yes, there is. And we do have it.”
“Robins, I’ll gather up the drug and follow you into Hastings. It will assist in treating the worst of his withdrawal symptoms.”
Robins nodded as he pulled Huntsford to his feet.
Lydia’s ears were ringing from the gunshot, but she was surprisingly calm, at least calmer than she thought she would be. Unless she was in shock. Be damned if she would go to pieces. Not anymore. A wave of relief covered her. It was over. She could truly move on with her life.
Harrison gathered her into his arms. “If anything happened to you, I would have ceased to breathe.”
One gasping sob escaped, but she kept her tears in check. And she held on to this magnificent man for dear life.
* * *
What a day. Despite disturbing the peace of the residential home, Mrs. Eaton insisted the position was still open if Lydia wanted it. She accepted wholeheartedly. After the wedding she would move into the room and begin her work.
Once they returned to Gransford Manor, the explanation to Harrison’s family was the next hurdle to overcome. The duchess insisted on tea and cakes and gave her a hug for good measure. Philomena and Eliza were particularly empathetic, for they had similar tales. After a hot bath and a rest, she joined the family for dinner. Despite the circumstances the food was enjoyable, and the conversation lively. The family made her welcome as one of them, and she was grateful.
Now standing on the balcony looking up at the stars, she allowed herself a quivering smile. This was a new beginning. Strong arms encircled her waist from behind, pulling her close. With a contented sigh, she leaned her head back, resting against the warm and strength of Harrison.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look in this white gown?” he murmured. “How it lovingly caresses your curves. You are stunning, my Lydia.”
She closed her eyes, reveling in the closeness, the feel of his hard body molded against hers. The softness of his beard rubbing against her neck. The heat of his passionately spoken words.
“I want nothing more than to take you upstairs to my bed, make love to you all night. But only at your invitation. When you’re ready.” He kissed her neck, then tugged playfully on her earlobe. “And I should not have said that aloud.”
Lydia turned in his arms, clasping his cheeks, meeting his gaze. “I want that. I do. But I need time. I will be starting my new position tomorrow. I have a favor to ask. When you have done so much for me already.”
“What is it?”
“That we have no contact for a while. Allow me to heal. Recover. Think on what I want next.” She asked a great deal. In effect, she was asking him to wait for her, until she was ready to enter into a relationship, whatever that would entail. Presumptuous of her considering they hadn’t discussed mutual love in any meaningful way. Perhaps all he wished for was an affair.
“How long a period? I will agree to whatever you say.”
So understanding. “Shall we say three months from today? In that time you can plan your new clinic.”
“September twentieth?”
“Yes.”
“On that date you will inform me if you want me—or not. I spoke the truth earlier, I am falling for you. I will not say the words for I do not want to place any undue pressure on you. But I will do as you ask. Know this: on the twentieth, I’ll be telling you all that is in my heart. Is that acceptable to you?”
Lydia kissed his cheek. “The fact you even ask permission or ask for my opinion has me falling for you. Yes, it is absolutely fine, as long as you allow me to tell you what’s in my heart.”
He touched her forehead with his. “You were very brave this afternoon. You asked that Huntsford be cared for; it speaks of your generous heart.”
“Did you see him?” she whispered.
“For a moment. I administered the drug. Showed Robins how to do so. They will be heading to London tomorrow. A telegraph was already sent to L Division in Lambeth and the police await his arrival. He’ll be charged with theft, attempted kidnapping, bodily harm to another, and anything else they can come up with. Too bad criminal transport is not still in effect. Sending Huntsford to New South Wales is appealing indeed.”
“A tragic ending, nonetheless. I no longer f
eel anything for him except pity. I haven’t for a long, long time.”
Harrison kissed her cheek. “I am gratified to hear it. Shall we rejoin the family?”
Lydia nodded, taking his arm. She loved him. And if all went well the next three months, she would tell him what was in her heart. For it was bursting with happiness. Whatever the future would bring, she would embrace it—wholeheartedly.
Chapter 19
“I now pronounce you man and wife, and man and wife,” the vicar stated.
Applause broke out in the main parlor as Tremain and Spencer thoroughly kissed their new brides. The small congregation of family and close friends rushed forward to offer their hearty congratulations. Harrison stayed put, his gaze never wavering from Lydia. She did the same. It was if they had said the vows as well, made an unspoken commitment. God, how he ached for her, but not only physically. He wanted to share his life with her. All aspects. Duty pales in comparison to finding the love of your life. Hang society and their judgment on all counts. If only he’d come to that realization earlier.
He was not a perfect man. He made monumental mistakes that caused pain to others. It would take time for him to forgive himself. Perhaps three months apart would put much in perspective. And he would be busy with the new clinic. The future looked bright for the Hornsby brothers—the entire family really.
A small hand slipped into his. “Come, Uncle! There will be chocolate cake,” Drew Payne smiled. “And shortbread with icing and small ginger biscuits.”
He squeezed the lad’s hand. Drew would soon have the Hornsby name as Tremain and Eliza had already put the adoption in motion. “I believe there is more to eat besides treats.”
He scrunched up his nose. “Eggs and ham? I’d rather have cake.”
Harrison laughed, holding out his free hand in Lydia’s direction. “So would I, lad. So would I.” Lydia took it and the three of them headed toward the happy couples.
The Marquess of Secrets (The Hornsby Brothers Book 3) Page 15
