The Lost Duchess of Greyden Castle

by Nina Coombs Pykare

  He looked down, obviously embarrassed. “But he thought it was some kind of trick. I—I have done such things in the past, but I would not do them now."

  "I know,” I hastened to assure him. “But if Gerson did not believe..."

  Richard smoothed his daughter's hair. “The children started out alone to help you."

  I shivered, thinking of that madman, of what he might have done to them. “Just the two of them?"

  Sarah nodded. “We didn't want him to hurt you."

  "But I did not see..."

  Richard frowned. “I came in just as they were heading up the stairs, and they poured forth their tale.” He smiled at them fondly. “I am quite proud of them both. At any rate, as soon as I understood, I called some servants and we hurried to you."

  "And just in time,” I said with a sigh of relief. “But Richard, I must tell you. I found a piece of Caroline's diary, and it says that Sarah is—"

  He cast me a warning look. “Sarah is my little girl,” he said warmly. “Some part of me has known it all along."

  Sarah nestled against him contentedly, but then she frowned. “Dada?"

  "Yes, dear?"

  "What's wrong with Uncle Roland? Why was he mean to Nessie?"

  Richard looked to me. I sighed, and then I knew what to say. “Remember,” I said, “when I told you how your mama and grandmother had a sickness?"

  Sarah nodded. “I remember. They can't love people.” She smiled. “But we didn't get it. We can love.” She looked up at her father. “I love you, Dada."

  Richard hugged her to him. “And I love you, Sarah."

  A lump in my throat made it impossible for me to speak. Penrose took the hand I stretched out to him. “I think I know,” he said. “Uncle Roland had a kind of sickness, too."

  Sarah looked puzzled. “But he loved me. He brought me presents."

  Penrose nodded. “Yes, but his sickness made him hurt people. Isn't that it, Nessie?"

  "Yes, Penrose. That is it."

  I looked at my husband. There were still a few things I needed to tell him. I squeezed Penrose's hand. “You and Sarah saved my life,” I said. “You're a wonderful brave boy."

  He blushed. “You are my friend,” he said simply. His flush deepened. “You will not mind if I don't call you—Mama?"

  "Of course not. I understand perfectly. Will you do something for me now?"

  He got to his feet, every inch a gentleman. “Of course, Vanessa."

  "Please take Sarah to the nursery.” Sarah looked about to protest. “You may tell your nurse all about the excitement."

  Sarah gave her father a hug and kiss. Then she hopped down and slipped her hand into the boy's. “You will let me tell it, won't you?"

  "Of course,” replied Penrose, smiling at me. And off they went together.

  Richard came to sit beside me on the divan. He put an arm around me. “Oh, Nessie, my love, if I had lost you..."

  "I love you, too, my dearest.” Then, because I was still shaken from my ordeal, I blurted out, “Someday you will forget how you love Caroline and love me the same."

  He frowned. “How I love Caroline? What do you mean?"

  "I know she was more beautiful. More—practiced. I know you pined for her.” I swallowed. “I found her handkerchief under your pillow one of the nights you left me alone."

  "The night you smelled Caroline's scent in your room?"

  "Yes, Richard. But it's all right. I know you loved—"

  "Vanessa, for God's sake! Will you stop saying that?"

  I stared at him. “But—"

  "You are wrong,” he said wearily. “I did not pine after Caroline, and I was not the one who put the handkerchief under my pillow. When I found it, I threw it away. I knew several days after I'd married your sister that I had made a mistake."

  I could not believe my ears. “Several days—"

  "Yes. And I kept thinking about a carrot-topped young girl I'd seen and wishing I'd waited for her."

  It was incredible. All these weeks I had been hating my dead sister because she had Richard's love. And she had never had it!

  "Oh, Richard! And I loved you. That is why I never married. No man could compare to you."

  He kissed me then, tenderly, carefully.

  "Now that the children are gone, I must tell you. Caroline's diary says—"

  He put a finger across my lips. “It's better that I don't know who her father is. I shall love her, I promise you."

  I pushed his finger aside. “But it's you!” I cried. “You're her father."

  He stared at me. Then joy broke over his features. “Oh, Vanessa, my darling. What wonderful news.” He put his hand gently on my stomach. “And this, this is glorious."

  I had a sudden image of Roland's evil smile. How that man had deceived us all. I shuddered. “Oh, Richard. Your brother was going to kill me. And Sarah and Penrose, too. And he was going to fix the blame on you. All these years he has hated you."

  Richard sighed. “I know. That time—when I fell out of ‘the stable—Roland pushed me. He told my father I pushed him, and Father believed him. He had a way with people, Roland did—so open and friendly—but it was all a mask. I saw behind it that day at the stable, but no one would believe me."

  "What—what will happen to him?"

  Richard frowned and pulled me close. “I will talk to the magistrate. Perhaps he can send Roland out of the country. To the Americas, perhaps."

  "And your mother?"

  He frowned. “We cannot have her in our household. I see that now. She is not good for the children.” He sighed. “I think we should leave here. There are too many dark memories for the boy."

  "Yes,” I said. “Oh, yes. Where shall we go?"

  Richard smiled. “I was watching you with the children, and I thought—perhaps we can find a place near your father. I have—"

  "Oh, Richard! How wonderful. Sarah will love it there. Penrose, too. It will be so good for him."

  "I thought you would like that."

  So our nightmare ended. Roland was shipped off to the Americas while the dowager elected to stay on at Greyden Castle with a small staff of servants. I suppose she wanted to hold on to her memories—since she had nothing else.

  Richard moved the rest of the household, anyone who wanted to go, including Toby and Creighton, to Wiltshire, where we all live happily together, the past a dim memory. Sarah and Penrose are flourishing, and Papa does his best to spoil all his grandchildren, including the new little Rosamund.

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