“I –I –” Elizabeth frantically searched Gavin’s face, frozen in uncertainty and a deep fear which had been three years in the making. Then she whispered haltingly. “I do love you.”
Gavin pulled her to him.
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice filled with emotion.
“Yes. Yes!”
Elizabeth was suddenly laughing and crying at the same time, amazed at how easy it all was, when she had finally said those three words.
Gavin kissed her right there in the moonlight, a kiss which filled her with joy, and desire and a heady happiness which threatened to consume her utterly. She realised, at that moment, that she had finally learned to trust again.
*****
It took a few days to sort everything out. For one, the family’s loyal butler, Barton, had watched, and heard, the whole discussion out of a window, his musket cocked and ready to blow off Gavin’s head if he made one wrong move.
The love-struck couple had talked early into the morning, and the poor butler, having fallen asleep, pulled the trigger upon waking and thus woke the entire household with a bang, which did more damage to his pride than to the carpet and floor.
Elizabeth’s father and mother were naturally quite concerned by the dramatic separation and reunion of Gavin and Elizabeth, but, in the end, much to Elizabeth’s relief, they were satisfied by a summary of the recent events and a hearty assurance that all was well.
The entire party had a late breakfast, jovially discussing the upcoming wedding. There was a lot to plan over the next few weeks, and both Gavin and Elizabeth felt that, after all the fuss, the least they could do was marry as soon as possible – and then get on with life quietly! Hopefully, once they did, the gossip would fade away as the ton looked for new subjects to whisper about.
Gavin, although offered the opportunity to stay at Shottercroft Hall, chose to take a room at the Shottbridge Arms Inn in the nearby village rather than impose upon the Earl and Countess. He collapsed into exhausted yet deeply restful sleep that evening, knowing that the coming days would transform his life forever.
The next day, after considerable discussion, it was decided that the wedding would be held in St Adelbert’s Church in Shottbridge, and the wedding breakfast at Shottercroft Hall.
As far as Gavin was concerned, anywhere would do, so long as he was marrying Elizabeth, and he knew that his mother would agree, for she would have no desire, even for a wedding, to have her peace and quiet at Blackstone Hall invaded.
Elizabeth’s mother was thrilled to have the opportunity to coordinate modistes, tailors, painters, chefs, and the like in a bid to outdo every other mother in the county with the opulence of her daughter’s wedding. Elizabeth allowed her free rein, with only one exception – she insisted on making her own choice with respect to her wedding gown.
Anne visited often, of course, and Elizabeth still felt guilty about having left without confiding in her, or asking advice from her, especially given how close they had always been, but Anne instantly forgave her, offering genuine congratulations.
The first banns were read, and at Gavin’s suggestion, Elizabeth and her parents travelled to spend a few days at Blackstone Hall, so that his mother might also become more involved in the planning. To Elizabeth, everything seemed to move with both lightning speed, and a terrible slowness. The only thing which worried at her, in her deepest thoughts, was the unresolved matter of Charlotte Baskerville – what might the girl still say or do? She pushed that thought aside to concentrate on the planning, but it would not let her go, and eventually, she concluded that, before the wedding, it needed to be addressed.
When they arrived at Blackstone Hall, Elizabeth found herself nervous – for whilst the Duchess had been all that was polite at that one dinner, she had also seemed rather aloof and forbidding. But, to her surprise, she very soon discovered that the Duchess wasn’t as dry and emotionless, or as haughty, as she had first appeared to be. Indeed, Elizabeth suspected that they would become friends.
The eerie Blackstone Hall was similarly not as she had expected. Elizabeth discovered that it was markedly less eerie with a few windows opened, some fresh flowers, and a ginger cat roaming its corridors. It seemed that the late Duke had been a bit eccentric, and that he and his wife had despised society for its shallowness and gossip. They had brought up Gavin with a strict hand, which he had, as was only to be expected, rebelled against, revelling in the pleasures and flattery that his wealth and breeding inevitably made available. Which information made her understand, far better, the man he had seemed to be, when she had first met him.
The Duchess sat with Elizabeth one afternoon, a tea tray before them, and Elizabeth dared to ask about her hopes for their future. It was an ideal moment, for neither Gavin nor her parents were in the house at the time.
“Your Grace, might I ask…”
“Yes, my dear – what is it you wish to know?”
“Is this… Gavin marrying me… something that you wish, that you are happy with? I know nothing of your hopes for the future, or what you, and your late husband, envisaged the woman who would eventually marry your son to be like. I would not wish to disappoint you…”
The Duchess smiled, and set down her teacup.
“I assure you – you will not disappoint me. Far from it. You have made me very happy.”
Elizabeth felt the tension go out of her – she had not realised, until that moment, just how afraid she had been of the Duchess’ answer.
“Happy?”
“Yes. When Gavin set out to be everything that we had hoped he would not be, I despaired. When my husband died… I was not sure what would become of the estates he had loved so much, for Gavin was in no way ready for the burden of being Duke.”
That irresponsible and hot-headed boy was gone, Elizabeth thought, with a smile.
“So he has told me.”
“But my fears proved unfounded, because of you.”
“But… I don’t understand.”
“It was his care for you, his desire to be worthy of you, which made him change, made him spend the year of mourning doing his best to learn all that he needed. So whilst that honourable intent tore him away from you then, it was his wish to be worthy of you which made him grow, made him become the man he was destined to be.”
“Oh… then… then perhaps this last three years of misery was worth it.”
“Misery is never good, my dear, but at least it is behind you now. As far as the rest of your question, about my hopes for the future – they are simple. I want the two of you to be happy. And grandchildren would brighten my life…”
Elizabeth laughed, feeling more than a little giddy.
“In that, you are in agreement with my mother. I…” she blushed furiously for a moment, “I suspect that we will fulfil that wish quite quickly.”
*****
Gavin strode through Blackstone Hall, his thoughts full of all of the details still to be addressed, a recently received letter clasped in his hand. Whilst Elizabeth and her parents were closeted with his mother, planning every tiny detail of the wedding, he had also been busy.
The London townhouse which he had used for that Season, three years ago, had been opened up again, and cleaned throughout. New staff had been hired, to supplement the few who had stayed on there through the intervening years to care for the place, even when he had not been using it.
Now, it was to be renewed – and redecorated to suit Elizabeth – he wanted the memories it held of his days as a carefree rake removed, and replaced by the new memories they would make together. By choosing to live there, most of the time, they were moving close to Anne, George, and David, so Elizabeth couldn’t be happier about the arrangement.
Of course, they would still spend time with his mother regularly, and Gavin even suspected that he might manage to convince her to spend some time in Mayfair with them, rather than hiding away at Blackstone Hall.
Only one thing still disturbed him – the same thing which worried Eli
zabeth.
Miss Charlotte Baskerville.
At first, he had advised Elizabeth to simply resist giving Charlotte Baskerville another thought, but the more he considered the matter, the more he accepted that she wanted one last meeting with the woman. In fact, he had concluded that, so did he. They needed the doubt which her lies had brought to their relationship wiped away, once and for all.
The letter he held was the key to achieving that.
He had obtained Miss Baskerville’s direction from Elizabeth, and written to her, very pointedly asking for a meeting. He had wondered if the girl would agree, but she had – and the letter he held contained that agreement. He was bemused by that agreement – but then, he had not mentioned that Elizabeth would be with him… surely, she could not still hold out hope that he would turn away from Elizabeth, towards her?
Two days from now they would call upon her, and he would discover the truth.
Chapter Ten
Elizabeth twined her fingers with Gavin’s as the carriage drew up before a townhouse which had seen better days. It was on a respectable street, in an area right on the edge of the fashionable parts of London. The sign above its door proclaimed it to be the Rutherford Apartments.
He squeezed her hand, but released it as the footman opened the door and let down the steps. He stepped out, then turned and gave her his hand to assist her. She looked up at the building, and felt an odd sense of sadness. Even if Miss Baskerville had lied, she found herself pitying the girl – for to lie in such a way spoke of desperation, more than anything else.
They went up the steps, rapped on the knocker, and were admitted by a footman, who looked as old and tired as the building.
“Miss Baskerville?”
“Upstairs, my Lady – the door on the left is the apartment rented by Miss Baskerville and her aunt.”
“Thank you.”
Their steps echoed in the entryway as they went up the steps, and Elizabeth felt her nerves reaching a fever pitch. This was a confrontation she did not look forward to. They reached the door, and Gavin reached out to rap on it sharply. After a moment, it opened. Miss Baskerville stood there, and an older woman was visible behind her. She smiled, then the smile left her face as she took in Gavin’s stern expression and Elizabeth standing beside him.
“Ah… come in…”
They entered, and the girl shut the door behind them. Gavin looked at the older woman, who stood, her hands nervously twisting in her skirts. He turned his gaze back to Miss Baskerville.
“And this is…?”
“My aunt. Mrs Johnson. My mother’s sister.”
The woman stepped forward a little, eyeing her niece.
“Well Charlotte, go on then, introduce them.”
Charlotte flushed.
“Aunt, this is Gavin Villiers, the Duke of Blackstone, and Lady Elizabeth Chartwell.”
The aunt’s eyes widened as she realised the rank of the people who stood in her parlour. She gave a curtsey – one which showed that, at some point, she’d been taught how to do it well.
“Welcome to my home. Please be seated. I’ll get some tea.”
Elizabeth and Gavin stepped forward, and by unspoken consent, chose to sit beside each other on the only couch the room contained, leaving the two individual chairs for Miss Baskerville and her aunt.
Miss Baskerville sat in one of those chairs, and regarded them with worried eyes.
Her aunt soon returned, and set a tray with a beautiful gold-chased blue tea set upon it down on the small table. Once they had all been served, she leant back in her own chair and waited. Elizabeth set her tea cup down carefully, and looked directly at Miss Baskerville.
“Miss Baskerville, we wanted to see you today to ask why you lied to me. I do not appreciate what you did, nor the smear that it may have caused to my betrothed’s reputation.”
Mrs Johnson looked at her niece with narrowed eyes.
“Lies? What lies, Charlotte?”
Gavin simply watched, and it was his still face that Charlotte looked at, before turning away and emitting a broken half sob.
“I… I loved you so much… and you seemed to like me… but you left…”
“And I told you why at the time, told you that I liked you, but that it was not anything stronger than that.”
Charlotte sobbed again.
“I… I had nothing… nothing without you. It’s not fair… and you left me because of her…” Charlotte glared defiantly at Elizabeth. “When I heard you’d left her too, after your father died, I hoped… but you went travelling. As soon as I heard that you were back in London, I arranged to come to visit my aunt. I hoped… But when I got here, it was all the gossip that you’d just declared yourself betrothed to her. I couldn’t, just couldn’t, allow that to happen, I couldn’t face losing you to her again… so I told her a story, about how it should have been…”
Gavin shook his head sadly.
His voice when he spoke was gentle, and held pity.
“You never had me to lose me, Charlotte.”
The girl sobbed. Her aunt looked at her with an expression as stern as Gavin’s.
“What have you done, Charlotte? Have you truly been such a fool? Tell the truth now – to me, and to this Lady you’ve hurt, or I’ll send you back home in disgrace tomorrow.”
Charlotte sobbed again, then pulled a handkerchief from her pockets and wiped her eyes.
“All right. I… I suppose that we were never even courting seriously,” the girl sighed wistfully and met Elizabeth’s eyes. “I never really had any claim on him at all no matter how much I wished I did. If you’re wondering… well, you can trust him. Everything I told you, well, almost all of it, was made up. I… I’m sorry.”
“So you should be. Now, if you’ll promise me that you’ll say no more of this, that you will do nothing to besmirch my reputation, nothing to hurt us, then I will be generous.”
At Gavin’s words Charlotte looked startled.
“I’ll promise. I don’t want to go back to my father in disgrace – he’d never get over it. But what do you mean, ‘generous’?”
“If you behave in an exemplary manner for the next nine months, then I will ensure that you have a Season – that you are introduced to society, and have a chance to make a good match.”
Mrs Johnson gasped.
“That’s far more than generous, Your Grace. Far more than she deserves, given what she did.”
“That may be true, Mrs Johnson – but I would prefer to create a happy ending to her fairytales, instead of a miserable one. I am just not willing to play the part of the hero.”
Beside him, Elizabeth felt warmth fill her. Her beloved was such a good man. Poor Miss Baskerville, whilst she might have done a terrible thing, had, in the end, done so out of desperation born of a broken heart – and that was a sensation with which Elizabeth could empathise.
Miss Baskerville drew herself up, and wiped the last of the tears from her face.
“Thank you, Your Grace, and Lady Elizabeth. Thank you for giving me a second chance.”
*****
The carriage rumbled over the cobblestones, bearing them back to Anne’s townhouse. Inside, Elizabeth leaned against Gavin’s shoulder, secure in the knowledge that she had made the right decision. She loved Gavin, and trusted him, because he had been only trustworthy and honest with her since his return to London. Even before she had heard the truth confirmed from Miss Baskerville’s lips, she had known what that truth would be.
Fear, regret, and hurt had characterised their three years apart, and Elizabeth was determined to forgive and forget the mistakes which she had previously held intolerable in others while forgetting, conveniently, her own faults. There was a wonderful serenity in trusting another person so completely; in knowing that Gavin was human, and struggled to better himself as a person, even as she did, and being content with that.
There was still so much to learn, still so far to grow. There would be new challenges to living together, as they
grew to know each other on a deeper level again, but she was now confident that their love would overcome everything.
Epilogue
It was five years later, and Elizabeth was feeling sentimental.
“Do you remember how we became betrothed, my dear?” she asked her husband.
“Not well, my pet – pray enlighten me,” Gavin said with a teasing glance at her over his novel. This was a game they had played often, but one which neither of them had yet tired of.
Elizabeth set down her knitting and went to stand by her husband, tugging the novel out of his hands.
“I seem to recall that it was a result of your hot-headedness,” she said with a curl to her lips. Gavin seized Elizabeth’s waist and pulled her down onto the arm of his chair.
“I seem to remember that you wished to skip the proposal, so you suggested the scheme,” Gavin said insinuatingly, grinning broadly.
Elizabeth gasped in mock outrage and was about to retaliate when someone toddled into the room.
“Peter!” Gavin exclaimed, scooping up the four-year-old and whirling him about before setting him on the chair. “Peter, tell us who is right – mother or father?”
“Mama,” the brown-haired toddler cooed. Elizabeth smiled triumphantly and hugged the child, who turned his head and continued, “and Papa.”
Gavin laughed loudly and Elizabeth smiled in chagrin as they both looked at their son.
“Very diplomatic, son. Come on, it’s time to go to Grandmother’s house.”
Peter clapped his hands and jumped off the chair, crying “Gandmaws!”
Anne poked her head in, jiggling a baby on her hip.
“Tea is ready!”
The Nanny came hurrying up with a reproving, “Madame, I can take her.”
“Oh yes Marianne, thank you,” the tired mother sighed, handing over her child and smoothing back her hair. “We’ll be right there,” Elizabeth laughed, as they rose and walked towards the main parlour, hand in hand.
Her Determined Duke: Clean Regency Romance Page 8