In fact, he knew himself to be healing well. The head wound had suffered no infection, his eyesight had fully returned, the shoulder pain decreased by the day and his injuries, according to the surgeon, were likely to continue to mend well, as long as he maintained his sling and did not do anything foolish.
They set off after nuncheon, and before long Tom and Nell had walked ahead. This was entirely predictable, and it also gave Jack and Cecily the chance for a degree of privacy for the first time since his accident. She was wearing an elegant pelisse in a warm red and a poke bonnet tied with a red ribbon under one ear. It framed her beautiful face to perfection—to the extent that Jack found himself forced to not look at her lest he betray himself with spontaneous poetic compliments. The very notion was mortifying.
He himself had donned a warm cloak over his shirt and waistcoat. At least he looked whole to any passer-by. He was pleased to find himself fit enough for the walk, with only the ache in his left shoulder to remind him of his self-induced injuries. He and Cecily chatted idly and easily as they approached the village.
Ahead, Tom and Nell paused, and a quick glance confirmed them to be embracing. This time Jack’s reaction had more envy than irritation in it.
Cecily was quick to note his glance. ‘They really do love each other, you know. I admit I had concerns that their marriage was too hasty, but I have been reassured during my time here.’
He grunted, unwilling at that moment to admit how wrong he had been. Naturally, she did not let him get away with it.
‘Well?’ She stopped walking and turned to face him, hand on hip and her tone of voice decidedly challenging.
‘What is it you wish me to say?’
‘I wish you to admit what you already know!’
That I love you? That I am unworthy of you? That I am envious of the love my brother shares with his Nell? That my heart will break when you leave Hazledene?
The thoughts tumbled through his mind. Ignoring them, he said only, ‘Very well, I accept that they are a reasonable match.’
She made a strangled sound of frustration. ‘Sometimes, my lord, I believe you delight in vexing me. They are not simply a “reasonable match”. They love each other. I should like to hear you admit it.’
Love? His every thought in her presence centred on it, yet his tongue struggled to speak it. Old fears rose within him again, yet he forced himself to speak. He could give her this, at least.
‘Love is not something that comes easily to me. I love my brother, naturally, but love between a man and a woman has always evaded my understanding.’ There. That sounded rational. It also had the benefit of being the truth.
‘But why?’ Her voice was low, but it was clear she was not prepared to change the topic.
‘Because,’ he shot back, looking dead ahead, ‘women leave.’ As his words landed in both their hearts, his face crumpled. He took a deep breath, then sighed with a strange sense of relief. Finally he had spoken, sharing the deepest secret of his heart. Now, seeing his brokenness, would she leave him?
* * *
His words reverberated through Cecily like thunder. ‘Women leave,’ he repeated, this time quietly. He turned to eye her directly, the sorrow of twenty years clearly visible in his expression. ‘Mama died. Tilly left. I needed them, and they went away.’
Cecily could hardly bear it. There in front of her was the seven-year-old child still living inside the man. She could see him in Jack’s stricken expression. The hurt, lonely boy he had been had shaped the man before her now. ‘Jack,’ she said softly. ‘Your mama did not wish to leave you. And your nurse did not want to leave you either.’
His lip curled. ‘You are determined to see the best in people, are you not? But on this occasion you are mistaken. My rational mind understands that my mama did not wish to die, but my nurse was quite another matter. As I have already told you, she had a good position with our family, but she left because she was offered a more lucrative post elsewhere. She departed from Hazledene, in fact, as the family were in residence here at the time. It is partly why my attachment to this place is so complicated.’ He shook his head. ‘I was away at school when she left, so it was something of a shock to arrive at Hazledene and find her gone.’ His tone hardened. ‘I shall own that I now understand much better the considerations of money, and how more is always better. Always. At the time I had a childish view of such things, and could not see beyond my need of her. A hard lesson learned, but never forgotten.’
Cecily bit her lip. This conversation was not proceeding as she had hoped. Reminders of Tilly might harden his resistance to love, rather than open his heart. Still, if there was to be any healing of this inner wound, it had to be exposed to the light, and cleaned. And she had one card yet to play. She took a breath. ‘Yes, I remember you spoke to me before of Tilly, your old nurse. Miss Tillot was her full name, was it not?’
He paused, his jaw slackening briefly. ‘Yes. How did you discover her surname?’ His tone was clipped. ‘Regardless, I do not wish to speak of her.’
‘I understand, but I must ask you to indulge me today. After this conversation, I promise not to mention her again if you wish it.’ She must tread carefully. He was showing her his wounds and might withdraw at any time.
He sighed. ‘Very well.’
‘After our previous conversations, I was curious about her. I took the liberty of discussing her with some of the Hazledene servants.’
‘You did what?’ He looked furious, so she pressed on hastily.
‘I know that it was impertinent of me, and forward, and that your old nurse is none of my concern, but I discovered some interesting information about the time when she went away.’
They were now in the only street in the village. The cobbles were dusty following almost a week of dry weather, the shops had shut, and the villagers were all likely preparing for their evening meal. The street was empty, so they continued untroubled past the haberdasher’s, the butcher’s and the general store, before climbing the slight incline past the fifteenth-century church where they had attended Sunday service not so long ago.
With a silent nod to the church, and a plea for help in her task, Cecily and Jack took the left fork after the church, where the road climbed towards Thursley Hill. Cecily was now much more familiar with local geography, due to her recent walks with Molly. While she had yet to climb to the hilltop, she had walked this way on a number of occasions.
Once Nell and Tom had again passed out of sight in front of them, Cecily returned to the subject of Tilly. ‘I discovered that your nurse, Miss Tillot, did indeed leave your father’s employ that Christmas. I am told, indeed, that she left on the very day you were expected home from school.’
‘I know this already, Lady Cecily. Why are you persisting in bringing up painful memories? Is it your intention to punish me in some way?’ His tone was flat, emotionless, but his message was clear.
‘Oh, no! Please, believe me, I could never knowingly cause you distress. Indeed, it is because of my—my regard for you that I wished to discover the circumstances of Miss Tillot’s departure.’
‘Your regard for me?’ He raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Do tell me more of this regard.’
She sniffed. ‘You do not deserve to hear of it,’ she declared, her chin lifted defiantly. ‘But suffice to say that, despite your arrogance, your boorishness, your pride—’
‘And this is regard?’ he murmured. ‘Remind me, Lady Cecily, never to ask you to outline my faults.’
‘Despite your faults,’ she continued ruthlessly, ‘of which there are many, I continue to foolishly hold some liking for you. No.—’ She held up a gloved hand. ‘I refuse to elaborate. I wish to continue to speak of Miss Tillot.’
‘Very well,’ he conceded, a welcome glint of humour in his eye. ‘But we shall return to this conversation very soon. Pray continue.’
She nodded graciously. ‘At
first, I was given the same tale that you were told—that Miss Tillot had left to take up a more lucrative position elsewhere. But I noticed something strange about the reactions of the various people I spoke to.’
‘Which was?’ He still looked disinterested, she noted, but she had no doubt that the boy inside was desperately gripped by their discourse. Reaching for her reticule, she closed her hand around the little figure inside, as if it would give her strength. She had gently retrieved it from the sleeping Earl’s hand the night of his accident, just before ceding her place to Tom for his night vigil.
‘None of them could say where exactly she had gone. There was no mention of London, or Tonbridge, or Sevenoaks. Yet, if the servants had been telling the truth, surely one of them would have remembered where this lucrative posting was, or who her new employers were?’
‘You believe they were lying?’ His eyes had narrowed, and there was a decided crease between his brows.
‘I do. And so I determined to persist with my questions until I uncovered the truth.’ The gaps between the houses were widening as the road climbed, the spaces around them punctuated by gorse, heather and spring wildflowers, their colours unnaturally bright in the twilight glow. ‘It was Molly who finally admitted that you were lied to.’
He stopped, looking thunderstruck. ‘Tell me.’
She took a breath and nodded, then walked on, keeping half an eye on the various cottages they were passing. He walked with her, eyeing her curiously.
‘Miss Tillot did not choose to leave.’
She waited, watching him closely. He frowned, then his eyes widened briefly as he worked it out. ‘Damnation! My father turned her off?’
She nodded, laying a sympathetic hand on his arm. ‘I am sorry to say that he did. Miss Tillot was reportedly distraught and attempted to appeal with him on the basis that you and Tom had need of her.’
His face had turned noticeably pale. ‘We did.’ He paused, considering, then his eyes widened. ‘Which is exactly why my father wanted her gone.’
Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I am so, so sorry, Jack. The servants were horrified but did not wish to drive further distance between your father and you two boys. They agreed together to repeat the lies that your father put about. They told you that she had left of her own volition, for the sake of a higher wage. In later years, they did not think it of importance that you should know, for neither you nor Tom ever mentioned her.’
‘But that was because—’
She laid her hand over his. ‘I know. It hurt to remember her, did it not?’
He nodded grimly, then rage spread across his face. ‘That man! I had known his cruelty, but this!’ They continued walking, but now his right hand was fisted by his side, his entire frame had stiffened, and he was staring off into the middle distance.
Moved beyond measure, she stopped, until he did, too. Moving close to him, she gently touched his face, wishing her hand was gloveless. ‘Jack, my lord, do you wish me to stop?’
He looked directly at her, and the pain she saw in his expression was almost her undoing. ‘There is more?’ he croaked.
She nodded, and they walked on again. ‘Miss Tillot was given only a week’s wage when your father turned her off, and she had—she had nowhere to go.’
He blinked slowly, swallowing hard, and she could see his jaw was tightly clenched. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that the next cottage on the right had a single, smoking chimney, and that the front door had been painted a fading pale blue. At this point, she knew it well.
She stopped walking again and turned to him. ‘She apparently travelled to Tonbridge, where she tried unsuccessfully to find work. Within a month she was destitute, and was forced to seek a place in the workhouse. There she lived for the next five years, and it is reported that she became dangerously thin and that her health failed.’
‘Did she die there? Tell me the truth, Cecily. If so then he murdered her! It was nothing less than murder!’ His voice cracked. ‘She, who should have been cared for by our family after all she had done for us! She should have been allowed to remain as our nurse until we were grown, then given a generous pension and a secure cottage as she aged. She was not old when she disappeared, as I recall.’
‘Indeed. I am told she was not yet fifty when she left Hazledene.’
‘So what happened to her? Do you know?’ His right hand was on her arm, and she could tell from its grip that he was overcome by strong emotion.
‘I do. Someone from Hazledene village had occasion to visit the workhouse and recognised her. Word was brought back, and there was, apparently, outrage among the villagers and the house servants about her plight. However, they all feared your father, so were frightened to openly aid her.’
‘My father, the tyrant.’ He nodded grimly. ‘I understand that.’
‘The vicar co-ordinated a charitable collection, and they were able to rescue her from her dire situation. Each person pledged to pay a shilling each month to support her, and with the money they were able to provide her with food, and clothes, and a small rented home.’
‘I am shamed by the good people of Hazledene, who have showed more goodness than I ever have.’
‘No! That is not the lesson you must take from this! How could you have known of her situation? You are also a good person!’
He shook his head slowly. ‘I am not. I have been consumed by anger, and bitterness, and fear. I am, at heart, a selfish tyrant. Just like my papa before me!’
‘But no!’ This conversation was not proceeding in the way she had hoped. ‘You—’
‘Tell me,’ he interrupted her, his tone harsh. ‘Was Miss Tillot still alive when my father died?’
‘Yes. In fact—’
‘So why did they not come to me? Why did they not tell me the truth then and ask me to care for her? Why did they maintain the lies? Why, Cecily?’
Her gaze dropped. ‘I do not know. I—‘
‘We both know. It is because they know me to be cut from the same cloth as my father. Harsh, selfish, unfeeling, ruthless. I could not be trusted with the truth.’
She eyed him directly. ‘That is how you like to be seen, yes. But that is not who you truly are.’
He snorted. ‘Oh, spare me the false compliments. I do not judge the villagers, or my servants. I have spent my life focused on building the family wealth. All else was secondary. Why should they think I even had a heart?’
‘And yet I know that you do. You have a strong heart, a heart capable of generosity, of pain, of love.’
Now was the time to tell him the final part of the story she had unearthed. ‘Jack,’ she began softly, ‘the woman who dwells in this cottage has not seen you for many years.’ She indicated the small stone house to her right. ‘Perhaps it is time you saw her again.’
His head turned swiftly, then turned back towards her, shock and incredulity apparent in his expression. ‘Tilly?’
She nodded, unable to speak. Taking the knight from her reticule, she offered it to him. His hand closed around it and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment. He slipped it into his watch pocket then stepped towards the gate, pausing for Cecily to catch up. With a gesture she indicated he should go ahead.
He knocked on the door then after a moment cautiously opened it to call inside. An answering voice came, barely audible to Cecily. After a brief exchange of conversation he stepped inside. A moment later Cecily heard a crash, as of china breaking on a stone floor, followed by exclamations of delight. She smiled, her heart singing, then waited.
After a few moments she approached the door and gave a cautious knock.
‘Come in, come in, Lady Cecily!’
She did so, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior. They were seated close together on Tilly’s small settle. Shards from a broken plate littered the floor. The old lady’s face was beaming, and wet with tears. Jack had
also had to make use of his handkerchief. Wordlessly, he held out his right hand to Cecily. Tears misting her vision, she stepped forward and took it.
‘Tilly, how do you?’
‘Ah, Lady Cecily, I shall never be able to thank you! Just to see my Jack again! I shall die happy now.’ Tilly’s smile was bigger than the universe, and just as beautiful.
‘You will do no such thing, for I expect you to live happily for many, many years first!’ Jack smiled at Tilly, and Cecily’s heart ached to see the love shining between the two of them. ‘You shall have a well-appointed cottage, as large as you like, and a good pension, and all the luxuries you desire! Or you may come to live at Springfield, if it suits you better.’
Tilly’s jaw dropped. ‘My lord! I had not sought any such thing! I—’
‘Of course I know that, Tilly. Nevertheless, you shall have whatever you desire. And in the meantime, would you do me the great honour of joining us for dinner at Hazledene tomorrow night?’
Anxiety creased her kind face. ‘Oh, but I could not, my lord. I—’
‘Please, call me Jack.’
Jack.
His name on her own tongue, Cecily recognised the power of him giving Tilly this honour. Unlike the Earl, however, she understood Tilly’s reluctance.
‘Tilly,’ she began, ‘there will be only Jack and Tom, along with me and Tom’s wife, Nell, at dinner. And you will love Nell!’
Tilly dabbed her eyes again. ‘To see my Tomkin again! But I cannot possibly...’
‘I believe,’ offered Cecily, ‘that the haberdasher has a good stock of silks and bombazines, and his wife is said to be a skilled dressmaker. And with a sizeable pension—which is, of course, yours by right—you can afford to dress again in the manner that befits your true station.’
‘My true station?’ She looked bewildered. Jack and Cecily exchanged a glance, and the emotion in his gaze burned through her.
‘Yes,’ he affirmed, then cleared his throat. ‘I remember well how my mama valued you. Had she lived, I have no doubt you would have remained a highly valued member of our household. You would have eaten well, slept easy and worn good clothing every day of your life. I expect you would have been promoted to her lady’s companion, for I think you had already occupied that place in her heart.’ His brow furrowed. ‘I must again apologise, Tilly. I am so, so sorry. I did not know—’
Captivating the Cynical Earl Page 23