by Meara Platt
The two so-called doctors bound Rawling in a jacket that pinned his arms to his body and then escorted him out. Rawling appeared spent, resigned to being restrained. But that cold calculation in his eyes still had Joshua on edge.
He turned to the duke once his son was out of his hearing. “Your Grace, what’s to become of him now?”
“He’ll be confined to my estate at Ismere and made as comfortable as possible for his last days. You must have noticed his gaunt appearance. He is sick physically as well as…”
Joshua nodded. “His eyes appear hollow, and his complexion is alarmingly yellow.”
“There is no meat left on his bones. The sickness has eaten him up inside, so there is nothing left of him but diseased skin over fragile bones.”
“Perhaps it is this physical sickness that has also attacked his mind,” Holly said with concern.
“I believe it is, but who can know such things? Mrs. Brayden, what was he blabbering about as his doctors led him out? He said something about forgiveness.”
“Yes, he needed to know I forgave him for Walter’s death. I never blamed him for it, and I don’t know if he will ever believe me. I hope he does. His mind is so tortured.”
The duke took her hand and kissed it. “I hope he does, as well. I cannot bear to see him as he is now. But he’ll be at peace soon enough. He won’t live to see the winter. He might not survive the journey to Ismere, he is that near the end.” He cast her a mirthless smile. “I think this ought to bring you relief, Mrs. Brayden, after all my son has put you through.”
“Yes, relief,” Holly admitted. “But no joy in his suffering.”
“Indeed, there is no joy in this whole affair. But rest assured, he will be confined and never be a threat to you again.” The duke then turned to Joshua. “Come see me tomorrow.”
“I will, Your Grace.”
Joshua put his arms around Holly as they stood on the front steps and watched the duke’s carriage disappear down the street. “You’re shivering, love. Let me take you inside.”
“No, I’ll be all right with your arms around me to keep me warm. I don’t want to go in just yet. I need to feel the bite of air against my cheeks.”
They were still on the front steps when Homer Barrow and Holly’s uncle arrived within moments of each other. Holly’s uncle arrived first, and she flung herself into his arms. “Uncle George, I’m so glad you’re here.”
His brow furrowed in concern. “What has happened? Are you hurt?”
“No, not me. Mr. Barrow’s men were knocked out. Ah, here’s Mr. Barrow now.”
Joshua and Holly took them both inside so they could tend to the Bow Street runners, who were now conscious, although unsteady on their feet. “The neighborhood patrol has Lord Rawling’s accomplices in custody now,” Joshua said as the runners were being examined. “I’ll leave the matter of their punishment to you, Mr. Barrow. How badly are they hurt, Dr. Farthingale?”
“They’ll recover. Nasty lumps, but I’ve seen much worse. They must rest for a week, I would say. No strenuous activities.”
Homer nodded. “We’ll do exactly as you say. I’m grateful, Dr. Farthingale.”
Joshua checked his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. He and Holly had arranged to interview household staff. But he still hadn’t interviewed Miranda’s staff to find out who’d let Rawling in.
Holly must have realized the time, for she suddenly gasped. “The interviews! Oh, Joshua, it is the last thing I want to do today.”
Miranda took her gently by the shoulders and steered her into the parlor. “Of course, my dear. You won’t do any such thing. You’ll stay right here and rest. I’ll go in your place. Your Aunt Sophie and I shall take care of everything. Never you worry.”
Joshua arched an eyebrow, dubious about the two matriarchs taking over their tasks, but Holly seemed to have no problem with it. “I would rely on their experience anyway before making any choices,” she said. “I don’t mind handing over the task to them, at least for today.”
Miranda turned to Joshua. “I have my suspicions as to who let Rawling in here. If this girl is missing when you question the kitchen staff, then you’ll have your culprit. She’s one of the new scullery maids taken in from St. Mary’s Orphanage. You know we’ve done this for years, provided employment for these girls and boys to give them a start in life. Polly is her name. I felt it my charitable duty to engage her services, give her a chance to make something of herself, but she has proven herself to be lazy. Mrs. Harold recently complained of items being pilfered from her kitchen.”
Miranda regarded both of them, her expression quite pained. “Stealing a few sausages or a mixing spoon is one thing. I never thought she would be so coldhearted as to allow a murderer into my home. This is all my fault.”
Joshua frowned. “No, it isn’t. Rawling was going to find a way in, no matter how careful we were. If it wasn’t Polly, then he would have found someone else. You couldn’t have sacked her on the chance she would do such a thing. We’ll see what turns up. It might not have been her at all.”
But as it turned out, it was. Polly had run off this morning, but not before bragging to the other scullery maids of coming into a bit of money.
“Well, that ties up all the loose ends,” he said, escorting Holly into the parlor to give them a moment to themselves.
Holly, being methodical and organized by nature, began to count off everything they’d accomplished. “Miranda is at our new house to meet the hopefuls applying for positions. Sophie will have joined her there by now. Uncle George has treated the runners. You’ve hired a hack to drive them back to Mr. Barrow’s office. The duke and those awful men have taken Lord Rawling away. His accomplices are now under arrest. Will you bother to search for Polly?”
“Yes, Mr. Barrow will try to locate her whereabouts. But I doubt she’ll stay in London once she realizes Rawling’s intent was abduction and murder, not theft. She knows she’ll be hanged if she’s ever brought back here. If he doesn’t find her by the end of the week, we’ll not pursue it. Unless she changes her ways, I have no doubt she’ll be dead or imprisoned for some other misdeed soon.”
She began to nibble her lip and fret again.
“What is it, love?”
“Lord Rawling is ill and dying. I thought I’d defended myself well and felt quite powerful for it. But I wasn’t really. All I did was fight off a weak, sick man.” She sank onto the settee, her spirits suddenly deflated.
He sat beside her and took her hand. “That man was smart enough to outwit all of us and strong enough to hurt any of us.”
“Not you.”
“Even me.” He cast her a wry grin. “But you’d kicked the tar out of him before I ever got close, so there was nothing for me to do but restrain him. His evil gave him strength. You defended yourself magnificently. But I knew you would.” He grinned again. “I’ve felt your wallop. You’re dangerous with a candlestick.”
“Don’t remind me.” She finally managed a laugh. “I never got the chance to hit him with it. You burst in before I could.”
His manner turned serious for a moment. “Don’t ever doubt yourself, Holly. You rose to the challenge as few others could. Afterward, you showed kindness and compassion few others would. This is why I love you and will always love you.”
He paused a moment, and his grin returned. “Not to mention, you have a face and body that drops me to my knees every time I look at you. But that is an altogether separate matter. It only proves how wise I am in recognizing your perfection.”
She laughed. “And now that we’ve decided you are incredibly brilliant, what shall we do for the rest of the day? And I don’t mean spending it in bed. I’d like to join Sophie and Miranda at our new house. I think I need to turn my mind toward our future and not dwell on all that has happened today or in the past. Would you mind?”
“Not at all. Let’s walk over. It isn’t too far, and a stroll through the park will do us both good.”
“And perhaps stop
at a tea shop along the way?”
“Yes, whatever you wish.”
“You’re being very agreeable.”
“Relieved is more like it. Thanking the Graces you are safe and unharmed. This is your day. We shall do whatever it is you’d like to do.”
“Even visit my Aunt Hortensia?”
Joshua lifted her onto his lap and kissed her soundly on the lips. “Gad, who knew you were so cruel? Yes, even visit Hortensia, if that is truly your wish.”
She put her arms around his neck. “No, we shall see her soon enough. Aunt Sophie and Uncle John are hosting a party this coming Saturday. We’re invited, of course. So are your brothers and Miranda. I look forward to the day we can host them all in our own home.”
“It will be soon.”
She scooted off his lap. “Let’s go, my handsome captain. I think I need to keep very busy today or I may burst into tears as everything hits me all at once. I just have to get my shawl…I…I…”
“Oh, hell.” This is what she’d run up to fetch when Rawling had attacked her. Joshua took her back in his arms. “Holly, love. Let it out. I’m right here.”
“No, I want to be strong and brave.” But she was trembling now and held out her hands in dismay. “I don’t want to cry, even if it is out of relief.”
“One thing has nothing to do with the other. Tears running down your cheeks will not change the fact that you bested a villain. But if it makes you feel better, you may kiss me every time you feel the urge to cry. I shall endure as many kisses as you wish to toss at me.”
“How very considerate of you.” But she laughed. Then she reached up and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you. It is an excellent idea.” She kissed him again.
He lifted her up against him and kissed her so deeply, she felt his kiss to the depths of her soul. “I’ll retrieve the shawl for you,” he said upon ending the kiss. “Or I can accompany you upstairs and stand beside you while you fetch it.”
She nodded. “I like the idea of you standing beside me.”
“Always, love. You know that.” He offered his arm to her. “Care to give it a try? Or do you need another moment?”
She placed her arm in his. “No more moments.”
He allowed her to take the lead and adjusted his pace to hers as they climbed the stairs. Waited for her to open their bedroom door. But once the door was open, he asked, “Love, do you want me to go in first?”
She took a deep breath. “No, I must do it.”
A maid was tidying up the room when they walked in. She bobbed a curtsy and turned to leave through the servants’ stairs, but Holly called her back. “It’s all right. Stay, please. I’m just collecting my shawl.”
She grabbed it and wrapped it over her shoulders, then cast Joshua a triumphant smile.
He smiled back, his gaze a mix of tenderness and pride.
“I know it is a small thing, but I’m glad I managed it.”
He took her hand in his as they walked back downstairs. “No, it is a huge thing. No different from the fears any soldier might have when hearing a sudden noise. A pistol fired. Even watching a fireworks display. Everyone might be looking up in wonder and cheering each fiery burst. But there are those in the audience with false smiles frozen on their faces, who are sweating and wishing it would all end soon because it reminds them of the battles in which they fought and their terror as the enemy fell upon them.”
Griggs was standing at the entry with Holly’s cloak in hand. Joshua took it and wrapped it around her. He waited until they’d walked out of the house to continue the conversation. “I think this is why I knew I loved you the moment I touched you. It wasn’t merely a low-brain response, although there is always that with you. But I’ve figured out the rest of it.”
She smiled at him. “Just what have you figured out?”
“A calming warmth filled me when I set my hands on you. It was as though my body was telling me in that instant, You’ve found her. She is the one who will take away your pain and fears.”
He shook his head. “It was most odd, really. There you were wielding that candlestick and bringing it down upon my head.”
“Ugh! I forbid you from ever mentioning it again. I’d rather talk about something else. Anything else.”
“Such as what?”
The day was cool but filled with sunshine, and their walk along the park was quite pleasant. Holly felt as though she was back in the countryside, for the lovely green grass and trees that were changing color. The vivid reds and golds against the blue sky were quite magnificent. The hardier mums were still blooming in their flower beds.
He looked quite splendid as he walked beside her. “Joshua.”
“What, love?” His head dipped toward her.
She took the opportunity to give him a quick kiss on the cheek even though they were out in public. “It’s time for me to hand off The Book of Love.”
“Ah, that magical tome you believe brought us together.”
“It did, even though you were the one to read it and tell me what it said. But I’m not certain who to pass it on to next.”
“Ronan will be disappointed. He wanted to read it.”
“I think it must go to Dahlia. She’s the logical choice to have it next, but she has a beau in York. He is in London now, and I expect he will soon propose to her now that she has come of age. Perhaps she will hand it off to Ronan after she reads it.”
“I’ll tell him to ask her.” They crossed a busy thoroughfare, safely reaching the other side before he responded. “But back to Dahlia’s beau, you are assuming he is the right match for her.”
She nodded. “He’s been courting her forever.”
Joshua shrugged. “And been a complete gentleman about it?”
“Yes, I believe so. Dahlia and Heather tell me everything.” She grimaced. “It feels churlish now, knowing that I hid so much from them.”
“You had your reasons. I’m sure you gave them good advice whenever they took you into their confidence.”
“I tried my best. Why did you ask if he’s been a complete gentleman?”
“Because no man who is truly in love can ever be a gentleman around the woman he loves. Low brain, love. It takes over. Mine. No one else can have her. We turn into baboons, baring our teeth and showing off our big, red arses to scare off our competitors.”
She laughed. “You’ve read my cousin Lily’s monographs on baboon behavior. She’ll be so pleased.”
“Your cousin is brilliant. Were she a man, she’d probably be a Fellow in the Royal Society or a chancellor in charge of one important government ministry or another. But to get back to the subject of that book and who should get it next, I think you must give it to Dahlia. If her Yorkshire beau is meant for her, then they will find a way to be together.”
“But if he isn’t…”
Joshua grinned. “Then I look forward to the mayhem certain to ensue as your sister finds her true love. She is a Farthingale, after all. Never a dull moment with you. I doubt a single one of you has had a traditional courtship.”
“I’m sure one of us…well, perhaps not.” Holly cast him an impish grin. “Would you think less of me if I agreed with you? I need a good laugh right now. And come to think of it, for Dahlia to accept Gerald Wainscott and set a date for her traditional wedding, a date which likely won’t be until sometime next year, is quite troubling. I knew I’d be wanton with you the moment I caught sight of you in all your manly glory. I would have become a terrible sinner if we hadn’t married right away. So I must thank you for making an honest woman of me.”
He laughed. “My pleasure. And believe me, you’ve given me pleasure beyond my wildest fantasies. I’ve come out the winner in this.”
“Oh, Joshua. This is what I want for Dahlia. She deserves a husband whose eyes light up whenever she enters a room. Yes, you’ve convinced me. She must get The Book of Love next.”
They passed several tea shops on the way to their new Mayfair home, but Holly was now looking forw
ard to setting up their household and eager to see who Miranda and Sophie had interviewed. She was also eager to see what furniture had been delivered and looked forward to selecting more fabrics with Dahlia, who really did have a wonderful eye for design.
As they arrived at their front gate, the sun was still shining. Joshua paused to give her a kiss. “I love you, Holly. Welcome home.”
“I love you more, my handsome captain.” She gave Joshua a short but ardent kiss on the lips, one that would be considered quite scandalous if they were seen by their new neighbors. “But I have one more question for you.”
“Yes, love?”
“If Gerald Wainscott isn’t Dahlia’s true love, then who do you think it might be?”
Chapter Nineteen
London, England
December 1820
Holly gave Joshua a slight nudge in his ribs as they stood together, watching over their guests while hosting their first party. “That’s Gerald Wainscott,” she whispered, “he’s walking in beside Dahlia now. The young man with the curled blond hair.”
It was an afternoon tea. The friends and family remaining in town over the yuletide season had been invited to attend. Holly was particularly eager to show off their home and all they had done to decorate it.
Rose and her husband had given them a beautiful tea service as a wedding gift, which was now on proud display in the dining room, the teapots with matching cups, saucers, and creamers set up on a table that spanned one wall. For the men or those who preferred a heartier drink than tea, a bowl of mulled wine and decanters of port had also been set up beside the tea service.
“What do you think of him, Joshua?” she asked, tucking her arm in his as they strolled from room to room to chat with their guests.
Another table laden with cold ham glazed with honey, a stubble goose stewed in plum juices, salted fish, venison, game birds, boiled turnips, and a mash of potatoes and onions had been set up on the opposite wall. A third table along the back wall held lighter fare, plum pudding, mincemeat pies, spiced apple tarts, scones with sultanas, and clotted cream.