Brandt sighed. “Last summer, he told me he meant to reject the title and give it to you, Ethan. It was his dream to move to London and become a part of a charity serving the poverty-stricken. At the same time, Alice increased her efforts in his direction, nearly driving him to distraction because he detested hurting her. He thought of her as a sister; that’s what he told me.
“When he didn’t respond to her overtures, she pretended to become interested in me. I couldn’t resist even the crumbs of her affection, especially since I knew Lucan didn’t love her. Then I became confused. I thought at first she pursued me to make Lucan jealous, but she was insistent that no one know we were meeting secretly.”
He turned penitent eyes on the viscount. “I begged her to marry me, Ethan; I’m not a complete villain. I deluded myself into believing she truly loved me. When she refused my offer, I couldn’t comprehend that she would”— He glanced guiltily at the ladies—"would act in the way she did, if it weren’t for love. Finally, when I understood she had no deep feelings for me, I broke off our relationship. Less than a month later, she and Lucan were betrothed.”
For the first time in a long while, Thomas stirred to attention. “If what you’re saying is true, why did Lucan change his mind about her? How can you know the child wasn’t his?”
“The timing, sir. The child could not be his, because around ... that time Lucan went to Scotland for six weeks—do you recall it, Ethan? One of our mates at school fell from his horse and broke his back—Richard Anderson. Lucan received a letter from Anderson’s sister begging him to come.”
“That’s true; I remember.” Ethan bent slowly to sit on the hearth. Madeleine rushed to join him and slid her fingers within his, then cast a defiant look at her father, daring him to say anything.
“Then why did Lucan decide to marry her?” Thomas persisted.
Brandt said, “I don’t know for certain, for he was extremely closemouthed about it when I asked him that question. Knowing his tender heart, Alice must have used her pregnancy to beg him to prevent her being disgraced. I can only imagine what she gave him as an explanation for her condition—probably said she was assaulted. If she’d accused me, I know he would have demanded I fulfill my own obligation.” Scott paused, and for a space of time the library seemed to vibrate with silence. “I’m wondering now if this was her purpose all along—to become with child in order to coerce Lucan to marry her.”
Ethan’s skin had grown very white. “And by so doing, she inadvertently caused his death. Had they not become engaged, MacAllister wouldn’t have killed Lucan.”
Madeleine laid her other hand over their clasped fingers, her heart breaking with his. Once again, silence crowded the library.
After a long moment, Brandt said, “I beg you will forgive my part in his death. I feel as if I betrayed him.”
“You couldn’t have known a madman waited in the wings, Scott. I don’t blame you. Love can make you do foolish things.” Without looking at Madeleine, he kissed her hand. “I understand that now.”
“I wish Alice had felt one-tenth the love for me she had for him,” Scott said.
Surprised, Ethan tilted his head to meet his eyes. “After all that has happened, your feelings for her haven’t changed?”
Brandt smiled wryly. “Did you not just say that love can make you do foolish things?”
After a moment, Ethan said, “I can’t guarantee love, but Alice has never needed anyone more than she does now. If you hurry, you might still find her behind Cotter’s Cottage.”
For the space of a dozen heartbeats, Scott said nothing; but a flicker of hope dawned in his eyes. “Perhaps I should look in on her.”
“It’s worth a try,” Ethan said, gesturing toward the threshold.
Brandt smiled tentatively, took his leave, and hurried away.
“Surely she will accept him now,” Madeleine said, dreading Scott’s disappointment if it happened otherwise.
“If she doesn’t, she’s a greater fool than I am,” Thomas said, rising to extend his hand to the viscount. Without hesitation, Ethan clasped it. “Forgive me, my lord, for doubting. You and Madeleine have my blessing.”
“And mine,” Antonia sang from her chair, her smile threatening to reach her ears.
Heart filled to bursting, Madeleine swept her arms around Ethan. He returned her embrace with only the slightest recoil of pain. Fearing she would hurt him further, she kissed him very gently.
In the midst of their joy, Burns entered to say the physician had arrived and would be awaiting the viscount in his room. Ethan groaned at the pain to come.
“Should you like a hot toddy afterward, my lord?” the butler inquired with what Madeleine supposed passed for a smile on the servant’s stern face.
“Burns, you’ve never offered to make a toddy for me.” The viscount’s voice inflected with wonder.
“Haven’t I? It’s been my custom in the past to make a special blend for the viscount. I beg your pardon for my oversight, my lord.”
Ethan, examining him curiously, nodded and told him he would look forward to it. The butler exited on soundless feet.
“He heard everything,” Antonia said with conviction.
“This house is full of echoes,” Madeleine remembered.
“It’s full of big ears, you mean,” Betsy said at the threshold. “Your hot water’s ready for baths upstairs, milord and my almost lady; and I’ve got just one thing to say. The next person what speaks bad about Lord Ambrose is getting a fistful in their gullet.”
The laughter which met this remark far outweighed its humor, but Madeleine knew their highly charged emotional state needed a release of some kind. Leaning her head on Ethan’s shoulder, she reveled in the changes wrought during the past hours: the discovery of Dorrie’s parents, her father’s blessing, and overshadowing all, Ethan’s safety. She laughed until the tears came, thinking, how like a family we are.
* * *
After sleeping all that morning, Ethan gathered his aching bones from bed, dressed, and hobbled downstairs using the accursed cane again. Pausing beside the newel post, he heard his guests clinking dishes in the dining room and talking. When he recognized Madeleine’s laughter, he smiled. Instead of joining them, he turned and entered his study, his eyes fixating on the portrait as they always did.
“Justice at last, Lucan,” he whispered. “Your murderer is dead.” He waited, listening for his brother’s response. When none came, he hurried on, “I’ve found a beautiful bride; the line will go on, just as you wished, God willing.” He paused, his smile faltering. “Lucan?”
He discerned no answer, no soundless voice whispering inside his head. With torn feelings, he swept his gaze across the room, snagging on his brother’s side of the desk, his books, then back to the portrait. Lucan no longer dwelled here. Had he ever done so since his death? Ethan wondered. Did he himself, in his overwhelming grief, only imagine his brother spoke to him from the grave, or had his twin finally found peace?
He would never know.
His eye caught movement at the doorway to the study, and he veered abruptly. Dressed in a white gown dotted with lilac flowers and looking utterly captivating, Madeleine stood hesitantly, her smile uncertain.
“I thought I heard you and your cane descending the stairs,” she said. “What are you doing? Is anything the matter?”
“No,” he said, smiling. “I was simply thinking ... how happy I am.”
After a leisurely kiss that he wished to prolong but could not, thanks to his ridiculous, growling stomach convulsing her into giggles, he placed his arm across her shoulders and walked her to the dining room.
* * *
The wedding took place on the following Sunday afternoon, the Murrows having agreed to remain a few extra days for the special event. The service, a small affair, was held in the great hall of the viscount’s home. In addition to the Murrows, only Lord Ambrose, his servants, Rosemary Danniver, the Abbotts (Joseph, his good nature strained at this rather shady turn
of events—but who kept assuring everyone the ceremony was better late than never—officiated), George Redding, the bride and bridegroom, and of course, the baby. The bride’s father, unable to forgive, was conspicuous in his absence. No one mentioned his name, and apparently, no one missed him.
Alice made a stunning bride descending the stairs in a gray taffeta gown that Ethan did not recall seeing before, making him wonder if she had found time to order a new one stitched up. He would not be surprised if she had; when Scott told him the size of her inheritance from her mother, the viscount’s last misgivings for his old friend vanished. With such a beginning, with Brandt’s talents and Alice’s charm and beauty, they would do very well in London. The two had decided to make a new start there. Despite the viscount’s best efforts, gossip had spread throughout Brillham, and neither Alice nor Scott wished to raise Dorrie beneath a cloud.
As Alice approached her bridegroom, she met Lord Ambrose’s eyes for one heart-stopping second. Standing as Scott’s best man, Ethan deliberately looked beyond her to fix his smiling attention on Madeleine. By the time the bride took her groom’s hand, the awkward moment had passed, and afterward she kept her vision centered only on Brandt.
When Reverend Abbott pronounced the couple husband and wife, the viscount felt a great weight fall from his shoulders. Dorrie, who had remained placid in the arms of Rosemary, the matron-of-honor, for the duration of the service, gave a sudden, piercing squeal that caused the company to fall into relieved laughter.
Before the couple departed, a modest reception was held in the dining room. Ethan brought a plate of lacy sandwiches and sweets to Madeleine, who was sitting beside her parents on one of the side chairs lining the chamber.
“I keep thinking of next month, when it will be our wedding,” he said, taking the seat beside her.
“As do I,” she said, with a dark look of promise that heated his blood.
“You’re not alone,” Antonia said with a smile.
“Only it won’t be quite so cozy as this, I warn you,” Thomas leaned across his wife to say. “Your chapel here would fit nicely into the narthex of ours, and Antonia intends to invite half the shire.”
Madeleine’s eyebrows moved expressively. “You will frighten him off, Papa.”
“Not a chance in ten thousand,” Ethan said gamely. He would endure anything to achieve the hand of the woman he loved; and if truth be known, the thought of an overdone wedding was overshadowed by his jubilance that her relatives lived so far away. Although his future father-in-law had learned to tolerate him, and though the viscount had grown quite fond of Antonia, he could not wait to have his bride to himself.
He scanned the crowd, his eyes skipping over Leah Abbott, who kept looking at him in a pouting manner, and on to Alice. The portrait of respectability, she stood biting cake beside her besotted new husband, whose gaze lingered on her every move and word. Ethan’s emotions tugged to see it. He hoped she would be a good wife to Scott, that she would truly love him.
There was one person he wanted to spend time with but couldn’t find. He asked Madeleine to search with him, and she willingly gave her plate to her father and took the viscount’s hand. Crossing the hall to the library, they discovered their quarry sitting in Rosemary Danniver’s lap. Seeing the look in Ethan’s eye, the former teacher smiled and handed him the infant, then slipped quietly from the room.
Snuggling Dorrie in the crook of his arm, Ethan drew Madeleine to the settee, then settled beside her and traced one finger down the babe’s cheek. Such soft skin she had, such big eyes that stared trustingly into his.
“I’m going to miss this brat,” he said.
Madeleine took one of the baby’s tiny hands in hers. “She’ll miss you, too.”
He laughed. “Dorrie’s too small to remember her own fingers.”
“Well, you’ll see her again; haven’t they named us as godparents? Anyway, I think you’re wrong about her forgetting. She responds to you in a special way; don’t you see how happy she looks in your arms?”
“Do you really think so?”
“Well,” she said in a considering tone of voice, “I find you special, and I know how wonderful it feels when your arms are around me.”
He could not ignore so bold a hint and gladly swept his free arm around Madeleine’s shoulders and pulled her close for a kiss. Dorrie grunted her objection at being inadvertently squeezed, and both adults chuckled.
“Put your hand on my chest,” he ordered Madeleine suddenly. She looked startled, so he added, “Over my heart.” Eyes rounded with curiosity, she complied, slipping her fingers beneath his jacket and waistcoat to lie warmly over the thin linen of his shirt. “Do you feel my heart beating?” She smiled, nodding slightly. “That’s the rhythm of happiness. Because of you, I’m complete.”
Madeleine closed her eyes for an instant and snuggled her head against his shoulder. “When I came to Westhall to satisfy my mother’s dying wish, I didn’t dream I’d find the love of my life, but that’s what has happened. And not only that, but my mother seems to be making a complete recovery!” She faltered. “There is only one thing ...”
He tipped her chin upward and prompted, “Only one thing ...”
“That dampens my joy,” she added in a small voice. “The—the legend ...”
Comprehension came into his eyes. “Ah, yes. The curse.” He pulled her closer to him. “I’m not afraid of that, my dear, nor should you be. I want you to put superstition from your mind and not think of it again.” He glanced down at Dorrie for an instant. “One day, when we are old and have our own children gathered around us for some celebration or other, we will speak of this and laugh.”
Her teeth edged over her lower lip. “I can’t wait until you’re thirty-one.”
He gave a grunt of laughter. “Thank you for wishing my life away! The future is uncertain for everyone, my darling. There are no guarantees. That’s why we must clutch every moment and savor every morsel life has to offer.”
She eased the fingers of one hand around his neck and lay her cheek against his jacket. “I love you so much, Ethan.”
He squeezed her to him, then freed his hand to caress her hair. “Do you understand how difficult it is for me not to see you in my arms every time I’m near you? When I approach a room, it’s your voice I listen for; your eyes I hope to meet. You’re the first woman I’ve desired to take not only to my bed, but into the secret places of my heart.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes and saw something dark emerge: a look of wonder edged with an innocent wildness that made his heart pound more rapidly.
“I can’t bear to be alone anymore, not as long as you’re in the world,” he said. “I want to be with you however long it may be, whether forever or a day.”
“I’ll take forever,” Madeleine said, and guided his lips to hers.
For my editor,
Tracy Bernstein,
with appreciation
In memory of
Peggy Jocher
The Bridegroom and the Baby Page 24