All That I Am: A Victorian Historical Romance (The Hesitant Husbands Series Book 1)

by Grace Hartwell

  Lainey’s brilliant smile faded when her eyes fell on Gavin. She took her hands in his and squeezed them. “I’m so sorry about your brother,” she said softly. Gavin shook his head.

  “Don’t be. I believe he’s better off now.”

  Lainey nodded, and finally noticed Kate. “Mrs. Mayfield! What a delightful surprise! What brings you here,” she said, kissing her cheek. Kate exchanged glances with Aidan, and Lainey frowned. “What is going on that you are not telling me?”

  “Lainey, I think we would all like to gather in the drawing room with some tea,” Aidan said, ushering her toward the stairs. “We have a surprising story to tell you.”

  Tibbs cleared his throat. “Perhaps, my lord, you will allow me to inform Miss Townsend of her visitor?”

  “I have a visitor?”

  “Yes, Miss. In the drawing room.”

  Elizabeth glanced around. Everyone was smiling but Lainey.

  “Don’t look at me,” she said. “No one would tell me anything.”

  Elizabeth headed for the drawing room and hesitantly opened the door. A young girl was standing by the fire, and Elizabeth gasped when she turned. “Betsy!” She charged into the room and gathered her friend into a crushing embrace. “Heavens, where have you been? I've been trying to find you for months! I was beginning to think something awful happened to you.”

  “Something did,” she replied, studying her old friend up and down. “Cor, look at ye. A right toff now, y’are!”

  Aidan stepped into the room, followed by the others. He introduced everyone and invited them to sit.

  “Aidan, how did you know about Betsy?”

  “Mary told me—don’t be angry, she did the right thing. When that note arrived, she knew you were in some kind of trouble and wanted to help.”

  “The note! We still don’t know who sent it.”

  “Actually, we do,” Gavin supplied. “It appears it came from Peter Smythe.”

  “You were in on this too?”

  “Will someone please explain what is going on here?” Lainey demanded. “What note?”

  “Oh dear,” Elizabeth said. “I’m afraid there’s quite a bit you don’t know.”

  And so the whole story was recounted while Lainey’s eyes grew rounder and rounder. A long silence fell.

  “My goodness,” she finally managed. “That is quite a tale, Elizabeth. I suspected you came from a different background, but I never imagined…my goodness.” She swallowed visibly. “And what of you, Miss Clarke? Where have you been all this time?”

  “Recovering, same as Liz here.”

  “Recovering?” Elizabeth’s throat constricted. “What on earth happened?”

  “Smythe,” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “He never gave up wantin’ ye, to be sure. He had a rat followin’ me, gettin’ hold of my letters to and from ye, so he knew where you were the whole time, the scum. I came across ‘im in a tavern one night a few months back, and I heard 'im talkin' about ye with some bloke. Turned out to be yer man Garrett. Garrett said he was lookin' for a girl about yer age, and as I 'eard him tell Smythe his story, I knew he was talkin' about ye. He fed Smythe some tale about bein’ a long lost brother and gettin’ you and yer mum back together. Promised him some blunt if he could help find you. Bloody Smythe’d do anything for money, even hand you over, and I could see he knew who Garrett wanted.

  “I didn’t think Smythe knew where to find ye, so I thought ye’d be safe for a spell. I paid a little special attention to the bloke after Smythe left, and got ‘im to talk. He asked me if I knew where to find ye. Said he knew you were looking fer yer mum and he knew where to find her. Somethin’ in his eyes made me believe he was telling the truth, so that’s why I wrote ye, hoping to make a plan when we met. Little did I know I led ‘im right to ye. I’m so sorry.”

  Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “You couldn’t have known, Betsy. You were trying to help me find my parents. But you never showed up that night. What happened?”

  “Smythe got hold o’ my letter to ye before it got sent on. The night I was supposed to meet ye, he met me first. I fought hard, but there was more o’ them than me.”

  There was a collective gasp from the women. Elizabeth’s eyes stung. “He beat you?” she breathed.

  “Knocked the stuffin’s out o’ me. Left me lyin’ in an alley in the rain. When I finally woke up, I couldn’t remember my name, and I was horrible sick. A kind lady had found me and taken me in, and helped me get better.” She gave Elizabeth a cheeky grin. “Things came back, tho, and now I’m right as rain.”

  Elizabeth just stared at her, horrified. “You almost died protecting me,” she forced out past the lump in her throat.

  Betsy shrugged. “I ain't ever had no one like ye, Liz. Ye taught me to read an’ write, and ye treated me kind, always stickin’ up fer me. Ye were worth protectin’.”

  Elizabeth's hand went to her chest, covering the acute ache there. Words completely eluded her, tears shimmering in her eyes. She couldn't believe she deserved a friend like Betsy. She couldn’t believe she deserved any of these people who had fought so hard to save her. She smiled at her friend, seeing her with new eyes, and she decided right then and there that Betsy would have whatever it was she desired in life that Elizabeth could provide.

  “Well,” she managed, her fingers tapping her thighs. “Well.” Her throat tightened to an alarming degree, and she could hardly draw a breath. “Ex…excuse me a moment.” She slipped from the room before the dam inside her broke.

  Aidan followed her into the hall, wordlessly pulling her into his arms. She fell against him as the torrent of tears sprang forth.

  “My God, Aidan,” she said after she’d calmed. “What unspeakable evil has followed me all my life. First Garett, then Smythe. How could he beat her like that and then just leave her to die?”

  Aidan kissed her temple. “I don’t know, but he will pay for it. He’s been arrested for attempted murder and I am filing embezzlement charges. He’ll rot in Newgate.”

  “Good. It’s no less than he deserves.” She sighed and lapsed into silence once more.

  “There’s something else I need to share with you.” He set her away from him so her could see her face. “Burke is not who you think he was.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean Lord Burke never existed. Vincent made the title up, probably to attract women, or who knows why else. I’m afraid you’ve been fearing retribution all these years for naught. Vincent was just a common criminal, and it’s doubtful anyone even questioned his death, much less mourned it.”

  Elizabeth went rigid, hands fisting at her sides, eyes bulging with anger. She worked her jaw in an effort to keep the words in, but to no avail. “Bloody bastard!” she spat.

  Aidan laughed as she immediately clamped her hands over her mouth, shocked by her own outburst. Aidan took her face in his hands, still chuckling.

  “My darling, I couldn’t agree more!”

  Epilogue

  “Tell me again, Daddy,” Liza begged, her little four-year-old fingers touching the scar on Aidan's cheek. She was sitting on his lap, smiling up at him expectantly. He kissed her fingers and she giggled.

  “Oh, not that old story.”

  “Yes, again!” she demanded. Aidan laughed and hugged her close. She was a miniature version of Elizabeth, with a mass of dark curls and huge blue eyes that didn't miss a thing.

  “Aw, Liza, he's told you a hundred times already. You know the story.” Thomas James dug his toe into the dirt. He teased his little sister relentlessly, but the truth was, he adored her. He had inherited his mother's startling eyes, but his father's handsome features and his protective instincts. Liza would be well cared for her entire life.

  “I'll tell you, even if your father won't,” Lainey chided. Liza clapped her hands and turned her full attention to Lainey. Thomas James rolled his eyes and ran to play with his friends. It
was, after all, his eighth birthday party.

  “Well,” Lainey began. “You have a very brave mother.”

  “What's this?” Elizabeth said, coming up behind her, carrying the newest addition to the family on her hip. Both she and Aidan had been thrilled to discover that she could, indeed, have children, and the three that they had were the light of their lives. Aidan believed that fate had intervened and prevented her from conceiving all those years, waiting until the time was right. Whatever the reason, Elizabeth was extremely grateful. “What have I done now?”

  “Nothing,” Lainey laughed. “Liza was just begging to hear the story of how you and Aidan met again, and your husband was being less than accommodating.”

  “Really?” Elizabeth said, arching her brow. “How very ungentlemanly of you, darling.” She smiled, and her daughter cooed her agreement. “See that? Even Betsy thinks so.”

  Aidan rolled his eyes and looked at Gavin. “I think I'm hopelessly outnumbered.”

  “Yes,” Gavin replied. “And you wouldn't have it any other way.”

  It was true, Elizabeth thought. Aidan loved all his women deeply. Elizabeth glanced around the table at her friends and family. It was a perfect July afternoon, the shade of her favorite oak tree protecting them from the heat of the sun while the breeze rustled the leaves overhead. Kate and the Colonel sat next to each other, holding hands and smiling at the scene around them. “Aunt Lainey, the story,” Liza prodded.

  “Oh yes, where was I? Well, your father had just crossed the street from where he had been talking to your mother, and he didn't see a carriage speeding toward him, so your mother gathered up all her strength and pushed him to safety.”

  “And you hit your cheek, right, Papa?”

  “Yes, that's right, little one. But I think your mother got the worst of it.”

  “You think?” Elizabeth said dryly. Aidan winked at her over Liza's head.

  “Mama was brave to save you!” she declared. “Was it love at first sight, Papa?”

  Aidan chuckled, a distinct tenderness lighting his eyes. But it was Lainey who answered.

  “Yes, it was, although neither of them knew it.”

  Liza collapsed against her father's chest with a sigh. “How romantic!” she exclaimed. That brought on a burst of laughter so hearty that Elizabeth found herself wiping tears from her eyes. She leaned over and kissed Aidan.

  “I have to go round up our son and get him into some decent clothing. The painter will be here in an hour or so.” They had commissioned a family portrait to be hung in the gallery where Aidan had first reached out to Elizabeth in friendship. She dropped a kiss on Liza's head. “I'll be right back.”

  She disappeared in search of Thomas, whom she sent off to the house, and when she returned to the ridge of the hill, her mother was waiting for her.

  “You know, Liza is just like you when you were a child.” She smiled at her daughter, some distant memory drifting through her eyes. Today was always a bittersweet day for both of them. Thomas James had been born on the exact date their lives had been torn apart so many years ago.

  “I wish Papa could be here to see them,” Elizabeth said softly, her throat tightening.

  “He is here, Elizabeth, and he is very proud of you. I'm sure he is watching over every member of this family.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She believed that, too. “Sometimes, just once in awhile, I get angry still. We lost so much, Mama.”

  Kate put her arm around Elizabeth's shoulder and tickled Betsy under her chin. “But just look at what you've gained because of it.”

  Elizabeth gazed down the hill to the table full of people waiting for her…her family, her friends who had stuck by her when she had had a rough entrance to society…the people who mattered most to her in the world. Anne sat serenely with Lord Cranston while the Duke and Duchess looked on. Betsy Clarke appeared to be telling the Duchess a wild story, for a shout of laughter burst forth from the group. Will and Louisa were also there, as much in love as ever, though now their love encompassed their four children, as well. And of course, Gavin and Lainey had been her biggest champions. Elizabeth smiled to herself. Nowhere else could there be such a mixed gathering of people from all walks of life, who loved each other dearly.

  And then there was the home in which Elizabeth now resided. She had taken one look at Rosecroft Manor ten years ago and fallen in love. She had understood perfectly why Lainey had preferred to spend most of her time here. The sense of peace that surrounded her when she was here was unmatched by anything—though how she could find any peace in such a lively household was beyond her. She and Aidan were hardly ever alone here, as family and friends were encouraged to visit often. They wouldn’t have it any other way. Elizabeth sighed. “It was awful, Mama.” She paused. “But I'd do it all over again to have this.”

  Kate kissed her cheek. “So would I. Now let me hold my granddaughter. I see your husband coming this way and I know that look in his eye. You've been away from his side for too long.” She plucked Betsy out of Elizabeth's arms and blew a kiss to Aidan as she strolled back to the party under the oak. Aidan wrapped his arms around Elizabeth.

  “You're taking too long. I miss you.”

  Elizabeth melted into him, laughing. “My mother knows you so well.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Mmm,” he mumbled, kissing her temple. “You seem to be in good spirits today, my love. Can I assume you and your mother were reflecting on the past just now?”

  Elizabeth nodded against his chest. “But in a good way. She just reminded me of how I wouldn't have any of this if that night had never happened.”

  Aidan tightened his arms around her. “Fate has a funny way of trying to make things right. I’ve always said it had you in mind for me all along.”

  “Such a believer,” she teased. “But I’m sure you're right.”

  Aidan set her back from him and looked into her eyes. “Can you believe it's been almost ten years since we married?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “It's gone by in a blink.”

  “The years do seem to fly faster as we get older.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I noticed I'm starting to get a touch a gray at my temples. You may soon find yourself married to an old man.”

  “Hardly.”

  “Ah. So does that mean you still find me as attractive as you did then?”

  “More so.” She slipped her arms about his waist.

  “And am I still as charming, too, or have the years worn at my polish?”

  Elizabeth giggled. “Still devastatingly handsome, still undeniably charming. Anything else you are worried about?” She knew what was coming. It had become part of their daily routine. He pulled her in closer.

  “Do you still love me?”

  She twined her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “With all that I am.”

  He smiled at her.

  And then she kissed him with all that she had.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the Romance Writers of America for giving me the opportunity to learn from some of the best in the industry. Many thanks to Victoria Pinder, Erica Taylor, Michelle Spray, and my other RWA friends for taking the time to answer my endless questions about all things self publishing!

  Thank you, Kate, for doing way more than you were asked to do, single-handedly saving me from making egregious historical errors and giving me a stronger story. Thanks also to Karen Sidel, who, when I put about that I was looking for a good copy editor, held up a sign that said, “Will work for wine.” And of course, my Drinking Divas, who are, if possible, even more excited about this debut than I am.

  And to my friend Laurie Judd, who informed me I really should write historical romance. Thank you for putting me on this path. I think, perhaps, you were right.

  But most of all, thank you to my beloved husband, who spent years encouraging me, yet did not live to see my name in print. There was no truer romantic hero than you, my love. I do
this in honor of you.

  About the Author

  ©2019 Sandy Puc Photography

  Grace Hartwell is a lifetime resident of Connecticut and has been crafting stories since before she could hold a pen. Always a sucker for a love story and a firm believer in happily ever after, Grace picked up her first young adult romance at age twelve, and never looked back. She took a circuitous route to becoming an author that included a teaching degree, many years as an IV pharmacy technician, and a stab at portrait photography before the loss of her handsome prince spurred her into pursuing her lifelong dream of seeing her name in print.

  Now she lives in their “castle” with their two cats, Lizzie and Bingley, who are largely uninterested in her writing. Grace loves to travel, has an ever-present cup of tea by her side, and when she’s not writing, she can be found on stage (pursuing her other passion), or creating vintage-inspired jewelry. She is also obsessed with historical fashion and enjoys recreating hats, outfits and accessories from all different eras. Find out more at www.gracehartwell.com