“She did look rather beautiful in that gown though, did she not?” Gerome jeered. “How could you not see my deceit? It is pitiful, how ignorant you were of me.”
“Do not speak of her!” Ewan cried out, his hand curling around a rock. With every ounce of strength left, he pushed his left arm up, driving the rock into the side of Gerome’s head. For a moment, he did not move, staring at Ewan with a dazed expression. Indeed, he almost looked surprised.
A split second later, Gerome tumbled to the side. Ewan scrambled to his feet, seizing the opportunity. The deceitful man was still breathing, his chest rising and falling, his blurred eyes staring up at the canopy overhead.
At least I did not kill him, though it would have been no less than he deserved.
“Lord Peterborough!” Aaron’s voice called from beyond the tree-line.
“In here!” Ewan called back, his chest heaving.
Gerome laughed softly. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”
“Perhaps you did,” Ewan replied, removing his cravat. Stalking over to where Gerome lay, he took the man’s hands and bound them tightly. There was no way that Gerome Buffond was escaping his clutches now. No, the only place that this man could look forward to was a dingy gaol, where he would spend the rest of his days.
There was a bitter irony to that, which tugged at Ewan’s empathy—Gerome had started in harsh conditions, and he would end in the same surrounds. He felt sorry for the lonely boy that Gerome had been, but he could not feel sorry for the man who had threatened everything he held dear.
“Is he dead?” Aaron gasped, as he burst through the trees.
Ewan shook his head. “He is not.”
“I am grateful for that.”
“You are?”
Aaron nodded. “I owe him more than an apology. I owe him the life that I denied him, though I did not mean to. Since I cannot offer him that, in its entirety, I would at least like to speak with him.”
“Well, he is bound. He should not cause too much trouble.”
“I thank you, My Lord.”
Ewan dipped his head. “I will wait until you are done, so that we may take him to the appropriate authorities.”
“Very well.”
“You may find me beyond the trees. Shout for me when you are done.”
* * *
Left alone with his son, Aaron could not help but stare in wonder at the man he had helped to create. Now that he looked closer, he could see hints of his own features in the face of Gerome. They had a similar nose, and similar lips, and perhaps their brows were akin. However, the eyes staring back at him were not kind ones. They held only hatred within them.
“I meant what I said before,” Aaron began, sitting beside the prostrate figure of Gerome. “I did come looking for you and your mother, but it was not safe, and the country was still in turmoil. There had been so much fighting that families had dispersed to the four winds. When I came back, you were gone. You see, I knew you existed.”
Gerome frowned. “You did?”
“A letter arrived upon my return to England, though it came a year after I came home. It must have been lost somewhere, but your mother sent it to the nearest address she could remember,” he explained. “The postal service managed to find me and gave it to me. By then, you had already been born, and you had already been moved.”
“She would not write to you,” he replied sourly. “She despised you, in the end.”
He shook his head. “She was sad, yes, but she did not despise me. The letter said that she was with child, and she hoped I would come back for her. A marriage had already been arranged for me, but my dear wife understood—she helped me try to find you. Only, as I say, it came to naught. We could not discover your location.”
“You abandoned us both. She died of a broken heart.”
“Close, but you are not entirely correct,” Aaron continued. “Your mother had always had a weak heart. She told me so, one night. It had been in her family for generations—a defect that could not be healed. Her mother had died the same way, and her grandmother before her.”
“How can you know this?” Gerome’s tone was tinged with intrigue, the anger softening ever so slightly.
“We talked in great depth about our lives,” Aaron said, remembering her. “I was young then, but I adored your mother. She was my first love, and a man does not forget his first love. Had the war not torn us apart, I do not know what may have happened, but I was a soldier—I went where I was told. Still, that does not change the affection I felt for Seraphine.”
“You loved her?” Gerome’s eyes widened.
“I thought you might think me insincere, but I truly did. I love my wife now, of course, but Seraphine was the first to find her way into my heart,” he replied. “I never forgot her, and I searched for you for many years before I gave up hope. Everyone I spoke to told me you must have died in the war or had died later in an orphanage of some disease or other.”
“How can I believe you?”
Aaron smiled. “As I said, I have the documentation to prove it. The papers are all signed and dated and tell the story of my search for you.” He paused uncertainly. “You see, two paths stand before you. Down one road, there is prison and a long sentence. Down the other, there is freedom. However, there are provisos to the latter. I cannot liberate you if you will seek to harm my daughter again, or anyone else that I hold dear.”
Gerome frowned. “You are even contemplating such a thing? Why would you do that?”
“Because you are my son, and because I understand why you have been brought to this desperate act,” he said softly. “The years in that orphanage hardened you, and I imagine that thoughts of revenge were the only things that kept you sane. I did this to you, and I have the means to remedy it… but you must not seek to harm anyone.”
“How could you trust me now?”
“Because you are my blood, and because you are Seraphine’s son.” He smiled. “She was a kind soul with a generous and forgiving heart. It failed her, but her character was sweet and loving. If you have any of her within you, then there may be hope for you yet.”
Gerome gulped awkwardly. “What would your proposal be?”
“That you come and reside at my home, and you live there with us for a while. Naturally, I will have to ensure that you are near, and that my men keep watch over you for some time. But I should like the chance to know you better, and to make amends for my mistakes.”
“So, I would be a prisoner in your home?” His eyes narrowed.
“No, you would be a guest. Once it became clear that you meant us no ill will, then you would have true freedom. You will become a part of my household, if you so choose.” Nerves wracked his body, for he knew he was taking an enormous risk. If Gerome continued to harbor a grudge, then Aaron would never be able to let him leave. Then again, it was better that Gerome be a prisoner in his house than a prisoner in a dank gaol.
Will Henrietta ever forgive me for this?
“Is this a trick?” Gerome asked, his expression boyish.
“I know you have been disappointed often in your past, Gerome, but this is no trick. This is a genuine offer, so that I might pay penance for my previous acts. I want to offer you a real chance at life, but you have to be willing to take it with both hands. You must relinquish your anger, and begin to forgive, otherwise this cannot work.”
For a long time, Gerome did not say a word. Instead, they simply looked at one another, assessing silently. Aaron’s mind drifted towards thoughts of his daughter, who had been seen to by his men on the bridge. He was desperate to get back to her, so he could ensure that she was safe, but first he had to do this. If Gerome did not comply, then prison was the only option.
“I agree to your terms,” Gerome said quietly, dropping his gaze.
“You understand that you must keep your distance from my daughter?”
He nodded. “I understand.”
“And that I will have to keep you near?”
“I understand.”
/> “Then we should leave, for my daughter requires my assistance.”
A shamefaced look drifted across Gerome’s features. “I understand,” he repeated.
Aaron stood, and reached out to help Gerome to his feet. He did not untie the binds that Ewan had placed there, and Gerome did not ask him to. Instead, they walked together through the trees, heading for the field beyond. Ewan turned in surprise as they emerged, a look of confusion glinting in his eyes.
“Where are we taking him?” he asked.
“He is coming home with me,” Aaron replied firmly.
Ewan coughed. “You cannot be serious?”
“I am perfectly serious, Lord Peterborough. This is my doing, and I must be the one to offer redemption, not only for him but for myself as well.”
“Henrietta will never forgive you.”
Aaron sighed. “I pray that she will. I have spent too long without compassion, and I will not make that mistake again. Seeing her on the edge of the bridge, I realized how I had failed her as a father. She had sought my respect, my support, and my affection, and I gave her none of those things. Perhaps this will show her that I have a heart, after all.”
Gerome smiled wryly. “Fear not, My Lord, I will not be expecting an invitation to Nightingale anytime soon.”
“Just because General Oliver is feeling lenient does not mean that I am,” Ewan snapped. “You almost murdered my wife tonight, and I will not forget that in a hurry. The General might wish to offer you redemption, but you have a long road ahead if you wish to gain forgiveness from me or my wife. Is that clear?”
“I would not expect you to,” Gerome shot back.
Aaron did not know how he would mediate this hatred between the two men and, presumably, Henrietta. Even if his daughter would not speak to him again for doing this, an idea was forming in his mind—a way in which he might make amends to both his children. It might not win him Henrietta’s forgiveness, but it might procure her future happiness. In the end, that was all he wanted.
He had granted his son redemption, but he was going to have to offer something else to Henrietta.
I will make it right, my dearest girl. I will win back your affection. I will become the father that you have always hoped I might be. That, I promise, even if you and I never meet face-to-face again.
Epilogue
Henrietta blinked awake to find herself in her bedchamber at the Old Bell Inn. She did not remember falling asleep, nor did she remember being brought there. Indeed, the last thing she recalled was the life being squeezed out of her, and the sight of Ewan coming to her rescue. Her throat felt dry and her temples throbbed, her eyes sensitive to the light coming in through the window.
What time is it? It was dark when Gerome tried to strangle me. She stared up at the ceiling, wondering if this was heaven instead. Did I die back there on the bridge? Is this what awaited me on the other side of the pearly gates?
“Henrietta, are you awake?” a familiar voice murmured. A moment later, Ewan’s face came into view. She turned slowly to face him as he perched on the edge of the bed and took her hand.
“I… think so. It is somewhat difficult… to tell,” she rasped.
“Do not try to move too much. You must rest,” he urged, brushing his thumb across her hand. “You had me worried, my Lady.”
She smiled. “I was Henrietta a moment ago.”
“No matter what I call you… you are my dearest love,” he confessed, his voice catching in his throat. Tears glittered in his eyes, though they did not spill over. “I thought I had lost you back there. When Gerome tried to kill you, I thought my heart would break. I could not stand to lose you, when I have only just found you. The woman who has brought joy back to a formerly grim world.”
“You saved me,” she murmured.
“Even then, I sensed you slipping through my fingers. I think the heavens were smiling down on us, for had I not taken hold of your gown… well, I do not like to dwell on it.”
She chuckled softly, her throat raspy. “You are much too gloomy, my Lord Marquess. I am alive, and you are beside me. What is there to be morose about?”
“You almost died.”
“But I did not.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “How can you see the good in everything? How is possible after what you have endured?”
“There is no use in bearing grudges,” she replied. “We have both seen where that can lead. We must count today as a blessing, for our hearts are beating, and we are young and healthy.”
“Some of us being healthier than others,” he teased, lifting her hand to his lips.
“My lips do ache, my Lord.”
He chuckled. “Is that so?”
“Oh, they are terribly painful.”
“Well, I had best avoid them then.”
She pulled a face, which only made him laugh harder. She liked the way he laughed—he was so much more handsome when he was in good spirits, his eyes twinkly and full of vitality.
Slowly, he leant towards her, pressing his lips to hers in a tender kiss. His thumb brushed the apple of her cheek as he kissed her again, before pulling away. A pleased smile remained fixed upon his face. Indeed, she found one upon her own lips, for though she had suffered much, she had awoken to her dear love by her bedside. There could be no better feeling.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“As though I came face-to-face with death.”
“May I fetch you anything?”
She shook her head stiffly. “No, I am quite happy for now. Although, what time is it? My last memory is of darkness, and yet, there is sunshine streaming in through the windows.”
“You have been asleep for a long while,” he explained. “It is the afternoon after the ball. I brought you back, though you were unconscious at the time. A physician has been and gone, but he does not think there will be any lasting damage.”
“That is good to hear.” She paused. “And where did my father go? He was on the bridge, was he not?”
Ewan nodded. “He was. When Gerome released his grasp on the rope, he attempted to escape. Your father and I chased after him and apprehended him in some nearby woods.”
“You know… I rather feel sorry for Gerome. He must have had such a terrible childhood, and to have that much hatred in his heart—he must have suffered a great deal.”
Ewan stared at her. “You cannot be real. Surely, you are an angel that has been sent to make us all feel inferior in our judgments. How can you pity him, after what he did to you?”
“He never knew love,” she explained simply. “He does not know the meaning of it, and that is tragic in itself. To feel so abandoned and to have no mother to care for him… it would be enough to send anyone towards the brink of insanity.”
“You are remarkable. Truly remarkable.”
Henrietta giggled. “What happened to him?”
A sad look crossed Ewan’s face.
“Ewan—what happened to him?” She feared the worst; that he was dead, having been brought to a swift justice by Ewan or her father.
“You may not like what I am about to say.”
“Say it regardless,” she urged, sitting up slowly.
“Well… he and your father spoke, whilst we were in the woods. I did not hear the conversation, but they came out of the woods together. Your father informed me that Gerome will be staying at the Oliver residence until further notice, under a watchful guard. He said that he wished to make amends, and it was the only way he knew how—to offer Gerome shelter and kindness, not to mention forgiveness.”
Henrietta frowned. “You do not approve?”
“He tried to kill you, Henrietta. I cannot forgive that.”
“Maybe, in time, you will come to.”
He shook his head. “You cannot tell me that you forgive him?”
“Maybe, in time, I will also. For now, it may be best if we do not visit my former home… not for some time.”
“A very sensible idea,” he commended, with a s
mile.
“Wait… does that mean that my mother and father have already departed?”
“No, they have lingered awhile. Your father’s men have taken Gerome back to your former home, where they will guard him until your father’s return.”
She sighed with relief. After coming so close to death, she longed to see her Mama and Papa, even if her father had just agreed to take Gerome into his house. She could understand the reasoning, from her father’s perspective, but it made things somewhat awkward. After all, it did not alter the fact that he had almost murdered her. Indeed, she did not quite know how to react. Should I be angry? She did not feel angry. Should I be upset? She did not feel upset.
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