For the sake of love (The St Bernadette Files Book 2)
Page 9
“Oh.” Charity allowed Lord Cunningham to place her in the carriage, relieved that he chose to sit next to her instead of across. She needed to be beside him, to feel his reassuring warmth.
“However, given what you have been through – as well as the fact that it is a several days of carriage ride, I could perhaps take you to my townhouse,” he suggested, sounding a little cautious. “I mean nothing untoward, my dear Miss Worthington, only that you might be in more comfort there, whilst this messy business is wrapped up.”
A thrill ran through straight through her as she looked up at him. “Yes, I would like that.”
His smile was immediate. “Then, of course.” He rapped on the roof and shouted directions, waiting until the carriage began to trundle away before turning to speak to her again. “You are quite safe now, my dear,” Lord Cunningham murmured, leaning down so that he could look into her face. “I should never have let you go this evening. It was my fault entirely.”
Charity swallowed and tried to speak, finding that tears were already beginning to slip down her cheeks.
“I want you to know that I would never consider you to be my mistress,” Lord Cunningham continued, finding her hand in the darkness and squeezing it gently. “My love for you has been growing ever since the first moment that we met.”
Hardly able to catch her breath such were the emotions running through her, Charity closed her eyes and let Lord Cunningham brush her tears away.
“Sleep now, my love,” he murmured, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. “We will speak again come the morning.”
EPILOGUE
When Charity awoke, it took her some time to remember where she was and what had happened to her, but slowly, it all came back to her. The bed was one of the softest she had ever slept on and a warm fire crackled in the grate. All in all, she was quite comfortable, aside from the terrors of last evening.
Getting out of bed, Charity sighed to herself as she washed her face, brushed her hair and then pulled on a wrapper laid out for her, wondering where Lord Cunningham had found such an item. He had taken such great care of her already, that she should not be surprised at such a thing, she supposed, smiling to herself as she sat down in a comfortable chair beside the fire.
A sudden rap on the door made her start, but it was only Lord Cunningham who appeared, his face a little anxious as he peered around the doorframe.
“I know this is quite unorthodox, Miss Worthington, but I could not wait another moment to see how you were.”
Charity laughed, glad that she had taken the time to do her hair and wash her face. “You can come in if you wish, Lord Cunningham. After rescuing me, I do not think there is anything I could deny you!”
He grinned and walked in, a maid following him with a tray in her hand.
“I thought you might be hungry,” he commented, as Charity’s eyes fell on the tea tray and other delicious goodies laid out in front of her. “You must tell me how you are feeling.”
Smiling at him, Charity waited until the sour maid had left them, not before throwing her a disapproving look, then reached boldly for his hand. “I am quite well, thanks to you.”
“Savage and his cronies have been arrested,” he replied, his eyes never leaving her face. “It looks as though the truth will come to light after all.”
Charity heaved a sigh of relief. “Then I do not have to live in fear of being transported to the colonies.”
“No, not in the least,” he said, firmly. “Although there is still something of import I wish to discuss with you.”
“Of course, Lord Cunningham,” Charity replied, softly, a sudden swirl of butterflies in her stomach.
His smile was gentle. “You might call me David? After all, you know now that I love you and calling me by my full title seems so formal.”
A shy smile caught her lips.
“David,” she murmured, seeing the light in his eyes.
“Oh, my dear Charity,” he said, catching her hand again. “I should have told you from the very beginning just how much I adore you. As I said only yesterday, my love for you has been growing since the first moment we met. I have struggled to keep my mind from you, waiting impatiently until I got to see you again.”
Charity knew then that she had been quite wrong about Lord Cunningham’s intentions, and had to confess so.
“I thought that you might only consider me as a mistress, a plaything.” At his frown, she dropped her head in shame. “At the park, you stepped in front of me to hide me from your friend’s view.”
“You mean Lord Thurston,” he said slowly, his frown deepening.
“Yes,” she murmured, still unable to look at him. “I thought you were embarrassed to be seen with me, someone who has a questionable parentage.” His hand tightened on hers. “I know now how wrong that was,” she finished, miserably.
To her surprise, she felt his fingers under her chin, lifting her face so that she had to look into his eyes. Instead of reproach, she saw only kindness there.
“I was not standing in front of you to hide you out of shame,” he said, softly. “But only in consideration for your reputation. Miss Hemsworth had left us both alone and I did not want my friend to think badly of you.” He shook his head, as a small smile touched his lips. “It turns out that I was quite wrong on that account too. I am quite sure that Thurston will be delighted to meet you.”
Charity swallowed the sob in her throat, realising that this man was not like anyone else. Even though he was titled, he did not considered her lower than the other ladies of his acquaintance. He had sought to preserve her reputation, even though she had none to speak of. How kind he was! How thoughtful and generous!
She felt utterly disgraced to have thought so badly of him. She had been too quick to believe that he was just like everyone else, despite knowing, deep down, that he was precisely the opposite.
“None of that now,” David replied, quietly. “I can see in your face that you feel quite guilty but that is nothing compared to what I feel in letting you go last evening. When I think of how close I came to losing you….” He trailed off and shook his head, capturing her face in his hands. “You know how much I love you, Charity. Say that you will be my wife.”
Stunned, Charity stared at him, seeing that he was entirely serious. She had not expected him to propose so soon but knew in her heart that she wanted nothing more than to accept. It was as if every single dream she had ever had was coming true all at once.
“I will, David,” she replied, her words breathy and filled with astonishment. “More than anything, I want to be by your side.”
He kissed her then, gently. His mouth was soft and warm, his hands reaching for her as they leaned across the tea tray. It was only when he almost toppled from his chair that they had to break their kiss, although Charity was sure her eyes were shining.
“I am the luckiest man alive,” David declared, his cheeks growing a little red as he smiled at her. “We shall wed as soon as I can get a license. A quiet wedding, I think.”
“That sounds quite wonderful,” Charity replied, realising that Lord Cunningham’s house would soon be her new home. No longer would she have to live at the school, in a tiny room with barely space to move. David’ home would become hers, and, together, they would build their life together. Her past did not matter now. With David, her future was bright. “I can hardly wait to begin my new life by your side.”
“Nor I,” he murmured, capturing her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.
Charity’s heart swelled with love for him, the man who had saved her and, in doing so, had captured her heart.
***
Miles away in Nettlefold a scandal was unfolding. Although the St Bernadette ball had been a success and the remaining six students had met with promising gentleman, the talk of the town was the imprisonment of Robert Savage and the disappearance of Martha Hemsworth.
Having thwarted her uncle, the young woman was now nowhere to be found. Rumour had it that she might
very well have been shipped away to the colonies on the very night that Charity was abducted. And as for the missing Worthington sisters, it was unclear as to whether one of them had been rescued and was now engaged to an earl, a certain Lord Ashton. Whatever the state of things, matters were about to get very complicated.
The End
BONUS CHAPTER: Against her will (Runaway Brides Series)
PROLOGUE
Moving quietly, Lady Georgette Davis rose from her chair and went to the windows to draw the curtains so that her mother’s sleep would not be interrupted, should a stray ray of sunshine manage to get past the heavy curtain drapes.
For Lady Esther, the Countess of Parsonville, the peace of sleep was hard to come by and her daughter tried in many small ways every day to eke a few more minutes of rest for her.
The Countess had experienced a severe malaise seven years ago, that left her unable to walk, bedridden, and easily confused. She could still speak some, although it strained her voice to talk for long. Georgette spent most of her days in the sickroom caring for her.
The Countess had been very fond of novels before her stroke and now, in her weakened state, novels were the only entertainment left to her, and that only through Georgette’s efforts. Her greatest pleasure was to listen as her daughter read to her.
But the reading had a second benefit; after half an hour, Lady Esther usually fell asleep into a deep slumber that gave her the strength, when she awoke, to partake of supper.
She could no longer go downstairs to the dining room, of course, and Georgette would not abandon her mother to a servant, which meant that meals at the Parsonville estate were not the grand, sumptuous affairs they had been in the past.
The Earl dined at his club rather than eat alone, and Georgette ate whenever she could find the time, generally later in the evening after her mother had gone to sleep for the night. But she did not mind.
She loved her mother not merely out of duty but out of respect and admiration that had been nurtured since she was a little girl. To see her in this constant weakened state brought tears to her eyes – tears she only shed far from prying eyes, alone in her bedroom.
Georgette sighed and straightened her shoulders. She glided gracefully through the room, picked the latest book she had read up from her chair and silently left her mother’s bedroom.
Although exhaustion laced through her limbs, she thought that she ought to spend some time with her father who, she knew, felt thoroughly neglected by his only child.
She and her parents had been very close before her mother’s stroke, but ever since, things had been different.
Georgette had refused a coming out; she was not interested, she had told her father, in making a frivolous presentation of herself when her mother was in no physical condition to be there to sponsor and chaperone her.
The Earl had argued with her; her life, he had said, had to go on, even with her mother’s illness.
But Georgette was adamant. She would not, and the Earl, unable to dissuade her, had faced the fact that his daughter was determined to sacrifice herself in order to be a nurse to her mother. It was not a life for a young, pretty girl who had every right to entertain thoughts of marriage and a family of her own. But here, too, he could not budge Georgette.
No, she had already resigned herself to being a recluse, a wilted wallflower. Never would she let her mother end up in a place such a Bethlem. A hospital that was nothing more than a prison.
She had no intentions of letting her mother become a dirty hidden away secret. Locked in her chambers in the East Wing with an indifferent carer and a husband and daughter who would never visit, because of the distractions of high society.
No, she provided for her mother and she would not regret her decision, never mind how lonely she felt. She knew that marriage and family life was a privilege that was not necessarily afforded to everyone.
She bit her lower lip and then shook her head. It was pointless to speculate about what might have been. With that final thought, she walked towards the servants’ quarters, her mind preoccupied with the list of household duties she needed to organise.
Unbeknownst to Georgette, on this very ordinary of days, the Earl of Parsonville was to set into motion a series of events that would fundamentally change her future, be it for better or for worse.
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