by Rose Pearson
A flush of shame crept into Deborah’s cheeks. “It was wrong of me to stop and listen,” she said, honestly, dropping her gaze. “But once I heard the truth, I realized that there was little point in remaining at the estate.”
Lady Markham closed her eyes and took in a long breath. “You have returned now and the misunderstandings can be explained,” she said, a small, relieved smile on her face. “That is all that matters.”
“Misunderstandings?”
Lady Markham’s smile grew and she opened her eyes. “You are just in time, Deborah,” she said, softly, letting go of Deborah’s hand and looping her arm through Deborah’s instead, as though they were the very best of friends. “You must go directly to Lord Abernathy’s rooms.”
Her stomach tightened anxiously.
“You have come back to speak to him, have you not?” Lady Markham persisted, as they walked into the house together. “That is why you returned?”
“Yes,” Deborah admitted. “Mother Superior spoke to me at length and encouraged me to do so.” She shook her head, wishing she had been courageous enough to do so beforehand. “Although I am still afraid about what may occur thereafter.”
“You have no need to be afraid,” Lady Markham stated, firmly. “Speak to my brother, Deborah. He will tell you all that has occurred.”
Deborah swallowed the lump in her throat, settled the slight tremble in her frame and forced a smile to her lips as Lady Markham let go of her arm and turned to face her. “I suppose I must do as you suggest,” she said, softly, feeling a trickle of sweat run down her spine. “I confess that I fear what will be said.”
“You need not fear,” Lady Markham replied, a little more color in her cheeks now than when Deborah had first seen her. “Oh, Deborah, I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have returned. Just when I thought all was lost, the carriage appeared and I saw your face within.” She sighed happily, although her obvious delight did not fill Deborah with confidence. “Go now, speak to Abernathy. I can tell you this: he will be even more delighted to see you again than I!”
Deborah could not quite believe this, fearing what Lord Abernathy’s reaction would be to her presence. Lady Markham’s confidence gave her no relief and she had to force one foot in front of the other as she made her way towards Lord Abernathy’s rooms. Memories of the first time she had entered this house began to assail her. She had been brought in via the servant’s entrance, feeling anxious about meeting the master of the house and yet being quite determined to do so. She recalled how Mrs. Denton had been worried about introducing her to Lord Abernathy, how the Duke himself had made his displeasure over her presence more than apparent. How much things had changed since then!
The sound of voices and hurried footsteps met her ears as she climbed the staircase to Lord Abernathy’s rooms, a little afraid that she would find him as he had once been – shrouded in darkness, wrapped in misery and utter despair. However, to her surprise, she saw footmen milling about, some carrying things, others empty-handed. Some of them came to a dead stop upon seeing her, their mouths falling open in surprise.
“Good afternoon,” Deborah murmured, not quite certain as to why they had reacted so. “Is Lord Abernathy within?”
One of the footmen recovered himself somewhat and nodded. “Indeed, Miss Harland.” He looked down at the box he was carrying, a rueful smile on his face. “I think I should put this back, now that you are here.”
Deborah frowned, not truly understanding what he was saying.
“I beg your pardon?”
The footman grinned at her. “The master won’t need his things in the carriage anymore now, will he? I’ll make sure the others start putting everything back. It’s just as well we haven’t called the carriage around yet!” With this, he inclined his head and then stepped away, calling out to a few of the other footmen to return whatever it was they were carrying as it was no longer needed. Still a little uncertain as to what the footman meant and why he had been carrying some of Lord Abernathy’s things, Deborah quietly made her way to the door that led into the room that Lord Abernathy had practically lived in for the last few weeks. Not that he had been in it particularly often lately, of course, but apparently he had returned to it now.
The door was ajar and, taking in a long breath, Deborah closed her eyes and steadied herself before raising a hand and rapping on it sharply.
“What is it?”
Lord Abernathy’s voice floated towards her through the open door. He sounded heavy and weary and Deborah found herself unable to answer him. Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Her legs began to tremble as she pushed the door open, forcing herself to walk through into the room.
It was not dark as she had thought. The drapes had been pulled back and one or two of the windows were ajar, allowing the fresh afternoon air into the room. There was only a small fire in the grate and, all in all, the room felt quite pleasant. However, there were piles of things everywhere, as though Lord Abernathy had been attempting to sort out some of his belongings in order to go on a journey of some sort.
Perhaps his honeymoon.
She swallowed hard, clasping her hands tightly in front of her as she raised her head to seek out Lord Abernathy. At first, she could not see him within the room, only for her eyes to land on him. He was behind the chair in the corner of the room – the very same chair where he had once sat and attempted to throw everything he could at her – with a large book in his hand.
“Lord Abernathy,” she said, her voice quavering. “I – I have returned.”
Lord Abernathy did not move for a few moments. He stared at her with wide eyes, his hand tight on the book as the other rested on the back of the chair as if to steady himself. Color slowly began to return to his cheeks as he continued to look at her, his good hand reaching up to swipe through his mass of brown hair. Deborah could find nothing more to say, her words dying on her lips as she regarded him. Her whole being was tight with tension, her hands twisting in front of her as she waited for him to speak.
And then, behind her, she heard Mr. Morris’ voice. Turning to look at the door, she saw him hurry into the room, looking somewhat distressed before his eyes landed on her and his mouth fell open.
“Miss – Miss Harland,” Mr. Morris stammered, a look of joy appearing in his expression. “You are here.”
She nodded, her throat working hard. “Yes,” she stated, trying to keep her composure. “As you see.”
Mr. Morris let out a long sigh, although his expression remained glad. “How wonderful.” His eyes darted towards his master. “I am sorry, Your Grace, you rang for me?”
Lord Abernathy cleared his throat gruffly, drawing Deborah’s attention away from Mr. Morris. “It seems, Morris, that I have no need of the carriage any longer,” he said, his gaze now back on Deborah. “Have everything put back, if you would. There will be no need to travel today.”
Mr. Morris beamed and inclined his head. “At once, Your Grace,” he said, walking backward as he quit the room. “And may I say, Miss Harland, it is wonderful to see you again.” He grasped the handle of the door and pulled it closed as he walked out of the room, leaving Deborah and the Duke entirely alone.
Her heart was beating so quickly it was painful, her breathing ragged and her mind refusing to give her any sort of idea as to what she might say next. Slowly, she turned towards Lord Abernathy again, her mouth going dry as she saw him begin to advance towards her.
“I was just about to leave for London,” he said, hoarsely, setting down the book on the small table to his left. “Morris has been organizing my departure.”
Deborah pressed her lips together, feeling herself tremble inside. “London?”
Lord Abernathy nodded, not taking his gaze from her for even a second. “I was determined to linger there for as long as was required,” he continued, now only a few feet away from her, although he did not come any closer but remained standing in one place, as though to keep his distance. “I determined to have a quite a few
things taken with me so that I would not have to return to my estate without achieving my aim.”
The air grew thick with unanswered questions as Deborah battled to keep from crying them out one after the other.
“Now that you are here, however,” Lord Abernathy continued, his voice dropping low. “It seems I have no need to go in search of you.”
Her head lifted sharply as she looked into his face, her questions beginning to be answered simply by the look in his eyes.
“You did not think that I would simply allow you to leave, Deborah, did you?” Lord Abernathy asked, tenderly. “Not when we have only just discovered the very beginnings of a happiness that could be ours if only we can pursue it.”
Pressing one hand to her chest, Deborah forced a breath. “But Lady Cavendish.”
Lord Abernathy grimaced. “Ah, yes, Lady Cavendish.” He shook his head at her. “I was told that you had overheard something of my conversation with my sister, Deborah. Was that why you left so abruptly?”
She nodded.
“You were mistaken in what you thought to be true, my dear lady,” Lord Abernathy continued, his expression heavy with regret. “If only you had come to speak to me of it, then I could have corrected you without delay.”
“I should have remained,” Deborah agreed, recalling how Mother Superior had warned her that she might have made some sort of mistake. “But after what I heard, I assumed that there was to be nothing between us after all and so…..”
“And so you left,” Lord Abernathy finished, a wry smile on his face. “Yes, I know.”
Deborah closed her eyes and lowered her head, feeling shame and mortification wrapping around her heart. “It was wrong of me to do so,” she admitted, brokenly. “I should have remained and told you what I had heard but such was the state of my heart that I confess I did not think clearly. All I wanted to do was escape from you.”
“You have never told me the truth about your heart, Deborah.” Lord Abernathy’s voice was softer still, holding such a tenderness that she wanted to weep with regret over what she had done. “Would that you had done so. Then we both might have been spared such pain.”
She shook her head, shame coiling within her. “I could not,” she whispered, keeping her head low. “I did not know what to do with what I felt. It felt almost wrong to let my heart find another path when I had been so determined to become a nun. Besides which, you are a Duke and I am nothing.”
“You are not nothing.” Lord Abernathy moved forward quickly, his words fervent. “You have become more dear to me than almost any other of my acquaintance, Deborah.” He did not touch her but looked keenly into her eyes, his head lowering as he did so. Deborah felt the intensity of his gaze and found herself filled with something akin to desperation, as though she longed to be in his arms but could not quite bring herself to step forward into them.
“Every word I said to you was true, Deborah,” Lord Abernathy said, his voice low and urgent. “I saw Lady Cavendish for what she was. I realized that the very same mask she wore had once been upon my own face. I had pretended that I cared for her as we began to court, but the truth was, I considered our match to be a matter of practicality only. She felt the same, for when I came to her with such a marked change in my appearance, she turned from me.” Shaking his head, he rubbed at his forehead, his expression pained. “And yet she was determined to make amends.”
Deborah’s throat ached terribly as she looked away. “You spoke to her again.”
“I had no choice but to do so,” Lord Abernathy agreed, plainly, “but it is not because I wished to begin our courtship again or anything of the kind. You recall that day we were riding, the day that we were interrupted?”
“I do.”
Lord Abernathy sighed heavily. “I did not want to see Lady Cavendish but she was quite insistent. She sought to apologize and even though she did so, I could see how she struggled to look me full in the face. I thought that should I accept her apology and allow her to return home with that assurance, then she would be able to return to her life in high society and leave me to my own.”
A touch confused, Deborah looked up at him. “But she did not?” she asked, her fingers tightening as she held them in front of her. “What did she want?”
Lord Abernathy shrugged, his jaw set. “She wanted to marry me, it seemed. I received a note that evening begging me to reconsider our acquaintance.”
“Oh.”
“That was why I wished to speak to her again, despite my sister’s suggestion that I leave her to rot.” A touch of humor caught the last of his words, the corner of his mouth turning up. “It seems Judith feels a good deal more strongly about Lady Cavendish’s behavior than I.”
Deborah, who recalled how Lady Markham had expressed her displeasure most strongly, allowed herself to smile. “She was trying to protect you, in her own way.”
Lord Abernathy nodded, his expression growing brighter. “I wrote to Lady Cavendish and arranged to meet with her. However, it was not to begin our courtship again but rather to inform her that such a thing could never occur. It was to inform her, Deborah, that I did not care for her. That I had never cared for her and nor did I believe that she truly cared for me either.”
Deborah’s heart trembled.
“I told her that I was deeply in love, for the first time in my life,” Lord Abernathy continued, taking another small step forward and holding out his hand to her. “I told her that I did not want to court her and would not be doing anything of the sort to fix what had been broken between us. I told her that, in my own way, I was glad about what had occurred, relieved that I had seen both my own past behavior as well as her own for what it was.” His hand caught hers, his fingers prying her hand away from where Deborah clasped it to the other. “I told Lady Cavendish that I cared for another, Deborah. I told her that I had never experienced a love like the one I felt growing within me. I told her that I had every intention of seeking out this lady’s hand in marriage practically the very moment I returned home.”
Tears started in Deborah’s eyes as she looked up at Lord Abernathy and saw honesty shining out from his face. Every word he spoke was the truth, she had no doubt of that, and yet it was almost too wonderful to believe.
“And when I returned to the estate, it was too late to seek you out,” Lord Abernathy finished, his bad hand lifting to her face so that he might tip her chin up a little more. “I went to bed thinking that the following day would be one of the happiest of my life, for I was determined to speak to you and tell you the truth about what I felt.”
“And then you discovered I was gone,” Deborah whispered, not trusting her voice as she held his gaze. “And you made plans to come after me.”
Lord Abernathy nodded. “I prayed I was not too late,” he replied, hoarsely, his fingers brushing her cheek, his thumb on her jawline. “I prayed that you had not gone to Mother Superior to take your orders.”
Deborah closed her eyes and smiled, feeling tears form. “I did want to,” she admitted, “but Mother Superior would not allow me to do so. She said that I was running from you, running from what I felt. She told me that there was no shame in feeling what I did and encouraged me to return to you so that I could be certain of what I thought to be true.”
“I am so very glad that she did,” Lord Abernathy whispered, his other hand now settling on the other side of her face. Deborah opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her and felt her heart burst from her chest. Her hands reached up to settle on his chest as tears began to creep from the corner of her eyes down her face.
“Do not cry, my love,” Lord Abernathy murmured, looking a little concerned. “We will not think of the past any longer. We will not allow it to loom over us like a shadow. We have found our way back to one another and this time, I will not allow you to escape from me again. Our paths shall join together and become as one so that we might walk it side by side.” His brows furrowed for a moment. “That is, if you will have me?”
De
borah’s breath was stolen from her as she realized what it was he meant. She tried to answer but found herself too overcome, her happiness overflowing. Instead of speaking to him, instead of answering his question, she did the only thing she could and reached up to press her arms around his neck and bring her mouth close to his.
She had never been this close to him before, her anticipation and passion rising with such force that she thought it might overwhelm her. Heat burst in her chest as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her tight against him. His mouth lingered only an inch from hers, making her eyes flutter closed as she waited for him to kiss her.
“You have become everything to me, Deborah,” he whispered, making her whole body tingle with anticipation. “I have behaved terribly towards you and yet you have found a way to stay by my side. You have become light in my darkness, brought joy enough to chase away the shadows. I do not ever want to be parted from you again.”
“Nor I from you, Lord Abernathy,” she replied, managing to find her voice again. “I – I have loved you for so long that I do not think it shall ever leave my heart.”
Lord Abernathy sighed with either relief or joy – Deborah did not know which – before he lowered his head and brushed her lips with his own. Her whole body jerked with the rippling shock that filled her at that moment, even though the touch had only been brief.
“I love you, Deborah,” Lord Abernathy whispered, filling her with such overwhelming happiness that all she could do was cling to him as he lowered his head to kiss her again.
Epilogue
“I do.”
Deborah’s words were pulled from her lips without hesitation as she looked up into Lord Abernathy’s face. She barely heard the rest of what was said, finding such a love in his expression that she could not look away. This was the most wonderful moment of her life and she wanted to take in everything that she felt, everything that occurred, so that she would never ever forget it.
