by Eva Devon
“Yes.” The dowager let out a beleaguered breath, before banging her cane against the floor again, clearly ready to convey her apparently superior plan. “So, there’s really only one thing left to do my dear. If you have the courage. Do you have it? The courage, I mean?”
Cordelia scowled.
“Of course you do,” the dowager said, a strange smile of anticipation gracing her features. “Silly of me to ask.”
Cordelia folded her arms under her breasts, wondering why so many people kept asserting she had to have courage to win her husband. The way she was feeling her husband was going to need a good deal of courage when next she was able to lay her hands upon him. “You’ve noticed I am not a wilting flower, then?”
The dowager leveled her with a serious stare. “Everyone has noticed.”
Cordelia’s arms dropped down to her sides and she stared up at the ceiling, wishing once again that she could disappear through the floor. All of London had seen her act the besotted fool. She. She who had never known a foolish day in her life. “Oh god,” she groaned.
“Be not dismayed by your behavior,” the dowager soothed, “because you’re going to have him.”
Cordelia dropped her gaze from the ornate cherubs frolicking along the frescoed ceiling. “How?”
“You’re going to trap him.”
Chapter 30
Jack had an intensely bad feeling about all this. The papers should have come by yesterday and yet there was no sign of imminent arrival. And it wasn’t dread which was stirring his stomach. It was hope. Ridiculous, crack brained, perverse hope. What if? What if she’d contested the annulment?
No. No, he couldn’t possibly allow himself to fantasize over such a thing. He’d been damnably cruel to Cordelia. Unforgivably cruel. Which of course had been his intention. He frowned. But he could at least be honest with himself. He’d wanted her to stay.
Jack pulled at his slightly too tight cravat and stared at the decanter of brandy wondering if it was too early to indulge. He knew what his mother would say. She’d say that it was never too early if there was good cause. And he was fairly certain that sitting about waiting for legal papers, which would finally put his marriage on the chopping block, qualified. But that wasn’t the only reason he was tempted to drain the brandy bottle dry.
The bloody fact was, he missed his wife.
He missed her. And it no longer mattered that he didn’t deserve her. He’d never done the noble thing. Not in his entire life, and why the hell should he start now? Because Aston had told him to? Because he’d wanted to try to be good? So far, being good was the most brutal thing he’d ever done.
Damn it, he was in love with Cordelia and she him. So, why wasn’t he storming out of the house to claim her.
He knew why. In a crypt, not far out of the city, were two reasons. His father, and his older brother. Even now, their voices haunted him. One, choking on water, and another sharp, full of bitterness and recrimination. He was not free of them. And until he was, just as Cordelia had insisted, he would never be free to have her. But how? How did he let go twenty some years of self condemnation?
A pounding on the door stirred his thoughts away from the decanter and the possibility of tracking down Cordelia, even unto the fabled origins of the river Nile.
His gut tightened, as it had done, every time the damn door had been bothered. Was it finally going to be the dreaded announcement? He was a bachelor once again? The bachelor he’d insisted on being for the entirety of his adult life, and even when happiness had stared him full in the face?
The butler, Horton, shuffled along the hall into the foyer and then instead of the polite murmuring that usually followed such an occurrence, there was a loud banging as the door slammed open and a chorus of loud men’s voices thundered through the house.
Horton’s old voice raised to the pitch of a shocked little girl and there were the sounds of shoes scuffling along marble.
Jack strode to his door, tore it open and suddenly wished he hadn’t decided to come to the rescue of his ancient butler. All of the Basingstoke men stood in the foyer, all in various positions trying to get around Horton, apparently without hurting him.
“There he is,” James shouted.
Anthony’s sharp blue eyes swung to him. “You bastard.”
Jack sighed. “I suppose yes.” Jack rubbed a hand along his forehead. “Allow them entrance, Horton.”
Horton straightened, smoothing his cravat and his terribly askew coif.
“Where is she?” Anthony demanded, whirling about the room as if she might suddenly appear.
Jack insides tightened with sudden suspicion. “What do you mean?”
“Cordelia,” Anthony stated tightly. “She’s gone. And no one knows where.”
“What the hell do you mean?” Jack demanded, a shocking dose of panic sending his heart slamming against his ribs.
“She’s run off,” Anthony rushed. “We thought at first, to Paris, but there’s no record of her sailing, and James found a note.”
Jack sighed, forcing himself to remember that Cordelia wouldn’t want his help. Not if she’d left the country. “She’s very capable of taking care of herself—”
“She’s with child,” James boomed.
The room froze and all Jack could hear were the words with child. Everything, even his heart seemed to stop for one mind numbing moment. “Could you repeat that?” he whispered.
“She’s with child and she’s run off,” Anthony said, his young face hard.
Jack drew in a ragged breath then staggered, unsure if he should sit or stand or pass out. “I—I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t,” James snarled. “Your grandmother tried to convince her to trap you but our sister is made of sterner stuff than that.”
“Of course she did,” Jack sighed. And that might have been the most foolish thing his grandmother could have done. Cordelia would never stoop to something so nefarious. Unlike the Eversleighs, she didn’t have an underhanded bone in her body. He paused. He was going to be a father. A father. And the woman he loved more than anything was carrying that baby. Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible day after all. “The annulment papers are still in the courts?”
Anthony nodded. “No matter what we said, she refused to call them out.”
Elation, that was all he could think to call it, swept through him and left all the anger and bitterness of his past naught but a cinder within him. It had to be the heavens conspiring for him. Because it was this was the one piece of news which could utterly convince him that Cordelia and he could not end their marriage. They were destined and not a single thing, not his father, his past, his own feelings about his self worth would get in the way now. Because doing the right thing now meant being married to the woman he loved.
“Find Charles,” he ordered, striding to the door. “He’ll be The Rapier Club. Make him aware of the situation and see if he can stop the papers. Tell him to cite anything. Every thing. That we were married in secret.”
“Were you,” Anthony squeaked.
“No,” he replied his spirits a whirl with joy. “But I’d declare to the world we’d been married by a priest and made love six ways from Sunday to keep her.”
“Steady on,” Anthony said, a look of horror creasing his tanned face.
“Steady on?” Jack laughed. “Absolutely not. I’m going to get my wife back.”
“We should pummel you to a pulp,” Edward, who’d been silent up to now, drawled.
Jack nodded. It was true. He deserved it. “You should but. . .”
Anthony put a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “The father of our nephew should be alive for the birth.”
“He could be a cripple,” put in James.
“A bit of limp wouldn’t hurt,” added Edward.
Jack faced the wall of Cordelia’s well-meaning brothers, undaunted. His wife needed him. And he needed to get to her as quickly as possible. Where ever that might be. “All of this is true gentlemen but w
e are wasting time. You may pummel me at a later date and I shan’t resist. But we must find her. Did she say anything, anything at all?”
Anthony scowled. “Deuced odd, but she said the barrow. There are hundreds of them and—”
Relief flooded Jack and he couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips and at his heart. Jack darted for the door, shouting over his shoulder, “I know where she is. I’ll find her. You stop the annulment.”
He didn’t pause, or think, or even bother to snatch up a coat. Jack Eversleigh darted out into the world, ready to finally declare he was in love with his wife and nothing was going to take that away from him.
Chapter 31
The Dukes’ Club Country House
Late Afternoon
Cordelia picked up a small, horsehair brush from the planks set up as a table in the field by the barrow and swept it over the piece of harness they’d discovered this morning in the debris near the burial.
She focused on it very carefully, very slowly, extracting the dirt from the beaten gold. If she studied it and toiled over it she wouldn’t have to think about what must be done next. That she’d have to go abroad, Naples perhaps, to have her child, and then. . . And then? Well, she didn’t know. She’d think of something.
It was terrifying feeling so alone. She couldn’t even ask Kathryn to go with her. The Duchess was already four months along and the last thing Cordy wished was to add to her kind friend and patron’s concerns.
She supposed the fear would dissipate as she grew more accustomed. After all, she already loved the growing child in her belly. But oh how her heart ached, knowing she would never see Jack again, but at least she could respect herself. She’d not been low enough to trap him as his grandmother, the surprising kind old bat, had suggested. For years all she’d longed for was freedom. She would not now in turn, deny such a thing to the man she loved.
“I think you’ve removed all the dirt.”
Cordy stopped mid brush, her heart jumping into her throat. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him. But she knew that rich, sensual voice anywhere. “Its important to be thorough,” she said, forcing herself to be calm.
There was a long beat of silence before he said gently, “You weren’t going to tell me?
Her shoulders sagged and any hope that might have sparked in her heart just a moment ago dimmed. He had not come here for her. He’d come because he knew. He knew that now, forever, they’d be linked by the child growing in her womb. It was the strangest thing, to love the baby in her body, even though it promised to add incredible difficulty to her life and incite obligation, not love, in the man she’d given her heart to. “No. I was not.”
He took a step forward, and laid his strong hand upon her shoulder. “Why?”
Her entire body came alive at his touch and she longed to turn to him, to slip into his embrace and accept the protection he’d no doubt come to give her. But she couldn’t bare looking at him, so she lifted her gaze to the barrow. She studied the stakes and string which had been used to mark sections of the dig. “You made it rather clear how you felt the last time I saw you.”
His touch slid to the nape of her neck, his fingers winding into the curls. “I was afraid.”
Good lord, that soft touch, pulsed through her, stealing her of reason. She wouldn’t be swayed. She wouldn’t. She had to remain firm in her resolve to give him his freedom and keep her honor. She wouldn’t take a man who only wished her because of the child within her. “Pardon?”
“I was afraid, Cordy,” he whispered, angling his body so it shielded her from the salty wind sweeping up from the coast. “Of being different than I always have been, of how I’ve always expected to be.”
She shook her head, not willing to give herself hope as she’d done before. He didn’t love her. He never had. “I don’t understand.”
“Will you look at me?”
She bit down on her lower lip, seeking a strength that had always been there for her in the past, which seemed to have scampered off in her lovelorn days. Lifting her chin, she turned towards him and lifted her gaze to meet his dark one. It was nearly her undoing, looking upon the face she loved so well. Clearing her throat, she lifted a brow, determined not to open herself as she’d done before. “Yes?”
“I had to run from you.”
She snorted. “You did not.”
A glint of humor brightened his dark eyes. “I did. And if you’ll listen, you’ll know why.”
Grudgingly, she folded her arms under her breast, brush still in hand, ready to go back to her work.
He drew in a deep breath then began, “You were making me see I didn’t have to be that person. I’d been told all my life that I wasn’t good. That I didn’t deserve anything and you. . . Glorious you, insisted that I did. That it wasn’t my actions, but my father’s pain which had shaped me.”
She stared at him, disbelieving the words coming out of his mouth. At last she said, “I still believe that to be true.”
“And now, so do I.”
She eyed him carefully, unwilling to leap. She needed him to say exactly how he felt. She would assume nothing. Assumptions had gotten her nowhere. “What does that mean exactly?”
His face grew serious and shockingly vulnerable. “It means I want you to be my wife. I want you to give me a chance to prove to you, that I am a good man.”
“I already know that you are a good man,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “But I will not have you simply because we are to have a child. Most women would—”
“You aren’t most women, Cordy. You are a strong, tenacious woman who deserves everything this world has to offer and I want to give it to you. You say, I am a good man? Will you stand with me? While I discover it? Will you let me love you as you deserve while I am loved in turn. . . As I deserve.”
She put the down the brush, desperate to jump into his arms. Yet, she couldn’t. She’d leapt before and crashed to the ground. “I want to, with all my heart. . .”
He nodded. “But it is you who is now afraid?”
“I gave you my heart and—”
“I didn’t realize I could accept it, sweetheart,” he said gently. “But now I know, that I can have you. We’ve been given a gift. A remarkably blessed gift. I never thought I could be a father, or that a woman would wish to be with me long enough to raise a babe. But you did. You pursued me and did everything in your power to wake me up from the nightmare I’d been living in. I love you. I loved you then. I love you now. I will love you every day of my life.”
A tear slipped down her cheek as he spoke the words she longed to hear for so long. “How do I believe that you will feel this way tomorrow?”
“We can never know what tomorrow brings.” He took her hands in his. Softly. Reverently. “We can only trust in today. But everyday, we can work to ensure that our love will be strong tomorrow.”
She drew in an astounded breath. “When did you become so wise?”
“Since I met my wife.”
Another tear slipped down her cheek and she pulled her hand form his to dash it away. “Silly emotions.”
He caught her fingers then oh so gently stroked that tear with his thumb. “Your emotions are as beautiful as your intellect.”
“Flatterer.”
Cupping her cheek in his palm, he whispered, “I intend to flatter you everyday for the rest of your life. So you best get used to it.”
It hardly seemed possible, what he was saying. But it was true. He was here and the look in his eyes was full of hope, of love. “I shall endeavor.”
“Good,” he said brightly. “Now, there is something I want you to do with me.”
“Yes?” She’d do anything to celebrate the moment he’d realized he was worthy of love. She’d march to the bloody Antipodes or have tea with his grandmother.”
“Come with me to my home, and say good bye to my father and my brother with me. Help me say goodbye to the past so that I can have a future with you and our child.”
C
ordelia drew in a deep breath, barely able to believe she was standing with the same man who’d been so sure he’d deserved nothing but pain. But here he was, before her, his dark eyes full of wonder. “Yes.” A laugh tumbled from her. “Yes. I will.”
A smile lifted his lips, parting them with pure joy. Greedily, he took her in his arms and swung her around. “I love you, duchess. I love you.”
Holding tightly to his shoulders, her feet barely dancing upon the ground, she felt light as air. “And I you.”
“And I love our child. I will always love it. Whoever it is, what ever happens.” He tilted her head back, pulling her close. “Our child will always know that there is hope and love in this world.”
And she knew it was true. Their child would know the love and safety that they never had, because they loved each other. Because they were willing to accept each other, no matter how rough their road had been. Between them, love would always triumph.
Chapter 32
One Month Later
The annulment had gone through. And for one fascinating week, he and Cordelia had not been married at all. Lest she change her mind and bolt for the continent, Jack had immediately procured a special license and they had been married in a hasty but perfect ceremony at the house where they had first made love. Harris had tossed the flowers.
Aston had stood quite sheep faced in the corner, begging both Jack and Cordy’s forgiveness for giving such terrible, drunken advice. That dastardly duke along with the Basingstoke brothers, Charles, Gemma, both dowager duchesses and the Duke and Duchess of Darkwell had then toasted them again and again with ever flowing glasses of champagne.
Now, they stood a good hundred miles away from that house that had brought them together. He and Cordy stood before the intimidating Hunt family crypt. Though, he knew he was a man well over six feet in height, he felt about three feet high. A little boy, standing before his father.
