The Earl's Honorable Intentions

by Deborah Hale

  Hannah and Rebecca enjoyed these outings quite as much as the child, having led very quiet lives until recently. What made Hannah even happier was the unspoken sense that she, Gavin and his son were already becoming a family. It still troubled her a little to imagine what Peter’s mother would have thought of her place being filled by her son’s governess. But she hoped and believed the countess had found peace and love beyond human understanding. Surely she would not begrudge the happiness of those she had left behind.

  Rebecca helped set Hannah’s mind at ease on the subject.

  “You will be fulfilling the promise you made to Lady Hawkehurst.” She gave Hannah’s hand a reassuring squeeze as the Edgecombe party prepared to depart. “Whatever she may have felt toward you and the earl, there can be no doubt she loved her children with pure, unselfish affection. I am certain she would approve of any arrangement that promised to be so very good for them.”

  “You talk excellent sense.” Hannah caught her loyal friend in a warm embrace. “I wish I had you near all the time to keep me from fretting about such things.”

  “We will see one another far more often now.” Rebecca glowed with delight at the prospect. “And our other friends as well, I hope. Besides, you have another friend now in whom you can confide.”

  Her teasing little smile told Hannah exactly whom she meant.

  Just then Gavin returned from the kitchen with Peter. They had gone down to thank the Benedict’s cook for a supply of warm gingerbread nuggets she had baked for him to eat on the journey home.

  “I hope poor Cook will be content here once you go,” Rebecca fretted, not entirely in jest. “I fear she may leave us for a family with little ones she can spoil.”

  “Surely she can be patient awhile longer,” Hannah replied, “for you and Lord Benedict to oblige her.”

  From the way Rebecca and Sebastian had responded to Gavin’s children, Hannah knew they must be eager to welcome a child of their own. How fortunate she felt that when the time came, she would have a ready-made family.

  “Speaking of Sebastian,” said Rebecca, “I hope he will get back in time to bid you farewell. That horrid Bonaparte is almost as much trouble in captivity as he was on the loose. I shall be heartily glad when his future is settled.”

  Hannah cast a covert glance at Gavin as she stooped to wipe a crumb of gingerbread from Peter’s chin. The earl’s mouth tightened and his dark eyes flashed in response to Rebecca’s remark. Though he had decided to put the war behind him and concentrate on his family, she sensed that the situation still mattered a great deal to him. She hoped with all her heart it would not be mismanaged again, leaving Gavin prey to undeserved regrets.

  He must have been thinking the same thing. “I quite agree, Lady Benedict. I would be the last person to take your husband away from his duties for the sake of civilities.”

  No sooner had he spoken those words than Hannah heard voices in the distance, followed by the sound of brisk footsteps approaching. A moment later, Sebastian strode in, looking rather anxious.

  “Thank goodness you’re still here.” The viscount addressed himself to Gavin. “I was afraid I might have missed you.”

  Gavin started to repeat what he had just told Rebecca, but Sebastian interrupted him.

  “This has nothing to do with polite leave-taking. I have been charged by Lord Bathurst to give you this.” He thrust a letter into Gavin’s hands. “Whatever you said to Buckinghamshire the other night seems to have made an impression. The Board of Control has withdrawn its objections to the use of Saint Helena as a place of exile for Bonaparte.”

  “What wonderful news!” Rebecca cried.

  Hannah swept Peter into a joyful embrace.

  “Are you certain?” Gavin tore open the latter and began to read it, his eyes darting back and forth. “This is an end to it, then?”

  “An end to what?” Peter demanded. “Why are you all so happy?”

  “Because it is an end to many years of war,” Hannah strove to explain in a way a child might understand, “and an end to the fear that it might begin again.”

  She sought to catch Gavin’s eye to communicate her delight at this new development and her pride in him for the part he’d played. When she glanced toward him, she did not see the wide smile she expected, but a furrowed brow and an anxious scowl.

  Sebastian clearly noticed, too. “What is the matter? What does the letter say?”

  “Just a lot of political nonsense.” Gavin’s lips curled upward then, in the most grotesque parody of a smile Hannah had ever seen.

  She suspected it must be for his son’s benefit and she was certain of it when he addressed the child. “I say, Peter, would you mind going out with Lady Benedict to check if our carriage is ready?”

  An opportunity to do anything involving horses distracted the boy from his father’s abrupt change of mood. “I shall be glad to, Papa.”

  Rebecca quickly grasped what was required of her. She took Peter’s hand and headed away with him. “Perhaps we can stop by the kitchen and see if Cook might spare some carrots for your horses.”

  The minute they were out of earshot, Sebastian asked the question that clamored in Hannah’s mind. “What does Lord Bathurst truly say?”

  The viscount did not question Hannah’s right to be there, for which she was grateful.

  Gavin heaved a sigh. “The government has resolved to send Bonaparte to Saint Helena, but they want me to go along as his custodian. In recognition of my intense desire to ensure that he should never again pose a threat to peace in Europe.”

  Hannah lifted a hand to her chest, for her heart felt as if it might plummet into her feet. She should have known a happy future with Gavin and the children was too good to be true. What had she ever done to deserve such a blessing?

  Another thought rose up to comfort her. It urged her to trust in the infinite generosity of divine love and seek to be a channel of it.

  “Dash it all,” Sebastian muttered. “I have no doubt you would be an ideal man for the post but… What will you do?”

  Gavin looked from the letter to Hannah and back again, all the while silently shaking his head.

  “I will leave you to think on it,” said Sebastian as he discreetly withdrew.

  When he had gone, Gavin looked up at Hannah again. The painful struggle that waged within him showed on his rugged features and in the stormy depths of his eyes. It was as vicious a battle as he had ever fought, for it was not against an oppressive enemy who must be vanquished at all costs. Instead, it was a severe contest between two greatly desired events, each of which must exclude the other. Such a battle could yield no true victory—only bitter disappointment and regret.

  Or could it? Perhaps in surrender and sacrifice, Hannah could help him find peace. Was that not more important than winning what she wanted at the cost of his peace of mind?

  “I think you should go.” Those were the hardest words she’d ever had to speak—welcoming her worst fear. Yet once they left her lips, she knew they were the right ones.

  The look of bewilderment that came over Gavin might have made her laugh under other circumstances, but not now. Instead it compelled her to make him understand. “I know how important this is for so many people and how much it means to you. I also realize what I should have all along—that you are not using this as an excuse to abandon your children. I know you will come home to them… and to me, at your very first opportunity.”

  The furrows in Gavin’s brow smoothed out and the rigid set of his mouth relaxed.

  “If you want the children and me to come with you to Saint Helena,” she continued, “we will.”

  Though she meant it with all her heart, Hannah could foresee many difficulties.

  When Gavin shook his head, she found herself torn between disappointment and relief. “Alice and Arthur are not yet weaned, and it is a long voyage. The children would be much better off at Edgecombe.”

  It was not an easy decision for him, she could tell, but one he ma
de out of tender concern for his children’s well-being. For the first time, Hannah could truly believe her father might have felt the same way when he’d sent her and Sarah to live with his sister. “Then I will look after them until you return, as governess or mother, whichever you think best.”

  “You would… marry me… right away? Won’t you mind what people might say?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “But your peace of mind matters more to me than the comments of others. Do what you must and you may rely on my complete support.”

  A sincere, mellow smile replaced Gavin’s earlier look of perplexity. “I know I can rely on you. That was something I sensed even when I did not much care for you otherwise.”

  With slow, deliberate steps, he approached her. “I want you and the children to be able to rely on me as well. How can I do that if I am an ocean away, playing nursemaid to General Bonaparte? I do not believe Molesworth would approve in the least.”

  He tossed aside the letter and took her hands in his. “What is more important, it is not what I want for our family and our future. I know I said I would not speak of it yet, but just this once, I must. I love you, Hannah, with all my heart and I could not bear to be parted from you for any reason. I want to put the war and all the other troubles of our past behind us. I want us to embrace the future with love and happiness.”

  His voice rang with confidence and certainty that gladdened Hannah, and yet… “What about General Bonaparte? Who will serve as his custodian if you do not? Is there a chance he might not be sent to Saint Helena if you refuse to go?”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me now?” Gavin’s dark eyes twinkled in a way she hoped she would often see in the years to come.

  “You know very well the answer to that.” Hannah was not accustomed to the sort of gentle banter she had heard Rebecca and Sebastian exchange, but she found she enjoyed it. “I love you so much that I am afraid of letting you down. I want to be quite sure you will not regret your decision.”

  “Not for a moment.” He raised her hands and pressed a kiss on them. “I am confident that when I exercise my newfound powers of persuasion upon Lord Bathurst and the other gentlemen, they will find someone just as well qualified for the post and far more eager to accept.”

  “Does that mean we will have to stay in London a while longer?” Much as Hannah enjoyed spending time with Rebecca, she yearned to see the babies with an intensity that was almost painful.

  An answering look of longing came over Gavin. He shook his head. “I have had my fill of London. We will go as soon as I can dash off a quick reply to Lord Bathurst. I once thought I would never say these words, but I can hardly wait to get home.”

  Epilogue

  Kent, England

  June 1816

  IN MANY PARTS of England, there would be celebrations on this day to mark the anniversary of Waterloo. Gavin doubted many would be as joyful as the one soon to take place at the parish church of Saint Alban’s Edgecombe.

  That terrible day, when he had staggered into this place of worship with a heart full of guilt and failure, now seemed like a disturbing dream from which Hannah had wakened him. Indeed, his whole previous life felt that way. Only in the past year had he truly come alive—taking on challenges he once would have shunned, opening his heart to family and friends.

  “It will all be worth the wait, you’ll see,” Sebastian whispered as he and Gavin took their places at the foot of the chancel steps. “It was for Rebecca and me, and it will be for you and Hannah.”

  Was Sebastian referring to his own somewhat lengthy betrothal? Gavin wondered as he waited for the arrival of his bride. Or did he mean the months he and Rebecca had waited and hoped to start a family? The moment the Benedicts arrived for the wedding, Hannah had guessed her friend was with child. She and Gavin were delighted for them.

  Gavin turned for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the small congregation with a sense of satisfaction. He had managed to gather almost all of Hannah’s school friends for their wedding. The beautiful Lady Steadwell had a glow about her as she sat with her husband and his three daughters. Vivacious Miss Shaw sat with them. Only Evangeline Fairfax had not been able to make the journey down from the Lake District, though she had sent a gift and a warm letter of congratulations.

  On the other side of the church sat two of Gavin’s cousins, a number of his fellow cavalry officers and as many of the Edgecombe servants as could be spared from preparations for the wedding breakfast. Peter was there, of course, with his nursemaid. Gavin tried to catch his son’s eye, but the child was too busy staring at Lord Steadwell’s youngest daughter. He seemed delighted to have other children visiting.

  Hannah had insisted Alice and Arthur must attend the ceremony as well. Gavin’s little daughter sat quietly on her nurse’s lap, staring around her at the stained glass windows, which were brilliantly illuminated by the morning sunlight. Young Arthur refused to have any of that. Instead he staggered up and down the side aisle with Mrs. Wilkes clinging tightly to his leading strings to prevent him from taking a tumble.

  Just then Hannah appeared at the back of the church. She looked quietly radiant in a modest dress, her bonnet trimmed with flowers from the Edgecombe gardens. In her hands she held a matching nosegay. Even from a distance, Gavin could not mistake the love that glowed from her whole countenance. Love for him, for the children and for Edgecombe itself.

  He had spent the past several months proving to her and to himself that he could be the kind of husband she needed and deserved. Today at last, he could pledge his love and loyalty to her for all the years to come. When they made their wedding vows to each other, he and Hannah would have the confidence of knowing the lengths to which they would both go to honor such promises.

  “I promised our host I would keep my toast short,” Sebastian announced with a wry chuckle as the guests paused in their appreciative consumption of the wedding breakfast.

  Hannah ducked her head and blushed, for she knew the viscount was about to pay tribute to her. She had never been comfortable accepting praise.

  But no amount of unease on that account could temper her joy. Today was the happiest in her life, not only because she had wed such a fine man and become the mother of three children she adored. Her pleasure was compounded by the presence of so many of her dear friends. Like Rebecca, the years had not changed them in essentials. Grace was still as kind and understanding as ever, Leah still as irrepressible.

  As well as Hannah and her friends got along after all their years apart, their husbands had also taken to one another like old comrades. Even Lord Steadwell and Sebastian had overcome the awkwardness of mistaken impressions formed before they became better acquainted.

  The children were having a wonderful time together, too. Lord Steadwell’s eldest daughter, Charlotte, doted on the babies while the middle daughter, Phoebe, had bonded with Peter over their shared love of horses. The boys was delighted to have some high-spirited playmates nearer his own age. Looking ahead, Hannah foresaw many pleasant visits between their families.

  “When Rebecca first told me about her school friends,” Sebastian continued, “I must confess I thought they sounded too good to be true—particularly the incomparable Hannah Fletcher. But having become acquainted with the lady, I can now assure you my dear wife did not exaggerate. Gavin is a fortunate man to have secured such a fine wife, as are the gentlemen who have wed her friends.”

  “Hear, hear!” cried Gavin and Lord Steadwell with touching enthusiasm.

  Sebastian laughed along with the rest of the company. Then he raised his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, pray join me in drinking the health and felicity of the new Countess of Hawkehurst!”

  It gave Hannah an odd feeling to hear herself called that. To her, Gavin’s first wife would always be the countess. Being Mrs. Gavin Romney was as precious a title as she could ever wish for.

  Once the company had drunk her health and Sebastian resumed his seat, Gavin rose. “I have one announcement to make,
after which I promise you there will be no more speeches.”

  “Hear, hear!” Leah quipped to everyone’s amusement, including Gavin.

  “Perhaps you will think differently after you hear me out, Miss Shaw, for it concerns you and your friends.”

  The others all cast Hannah questioning looks, but she could only reply with a mystified shrug. She had not the least idea what Gavin intended to announce.

  “Lord Benedict, Lord Steadwell and I have been talking,” Gavin continued, “and we have decided the best way to honor our dear wives is to endow a new school to replace that horrid Pendergast place—a school that will be run on truly Christian principles.”

  He was interrupted by cries of delight from Hannah and the others. What a comfort it would be to think that another generation of girls need not suffer what they had and worse. Already Hannah’s mind was churning with ideas for how to make the new school an example of what such institutions could and should be.

  “We will need the very best people to run it.” Gavin’s words echoed Hannah’s thoughts. “We hope Miss Shaw and Miss Fairfax might be persuaded to take on the task.”

  Hannah, Rebecca and Grace hailed the suggestion with delight and called for Leah to accept.

  “If anyone could make our school a happy place, it is you, Leah,” cried Hannah. “Please say you will!”

  But Leah shook her head, her hazel eyes twinkling. “I wish I could oblige you, but this sounds like an ideal project for Evangeline. You know what a born leader she is. I am too much a rebel—we would come to blows in no time.”

  Though her friend’s answer disappointed Hannah, she could not deny the truth of it. Evangeline was much better suited to the challenge of establishing and running a new school. Besides, Leah hated being tied down in one place for too long. She moved from position to position with eagerness that a homebody like Rebecca could never understand.

  Gavin concluded his speech to a flurry of applause.