His Shadowed Heart ((Books We Love Regency Romance))

by Hazel Statham

  She knew not what to expect but it still came as a blow to find the hallway empty with no sign of her husband. She had thought that he would be present at their leave-taking, if not for herself, then at least for Julia, and she waited impatiently for the child to arrive, wishing nothing more than to be gone.

  Julia came skipping down the stairs with her large wax doll gripped tightly in her arms, her nurse following closely behind with the information that His Lordship had visited the nursery earlier that morning to make his farewells.

  Feeling much piqued at this information, with a crispness to her step, Caroline followed in their wake out to the carriage, waiting on the steps whilst the child was installed.

  As she would have moved forward to join them, she heard a brisk stride cross the hallway behind her and turned quickly as her husband gained her side.

  “What, you would leave me without at least saying farewell,” he said quietly, taking her arm and guiding her back inside the deserted hallway. “I hoped you would at least come and make your adieu to me,” he said softly, trying to read her face.

  “I thought you to be otherwise engaged, sir,” she replied, blushing at his tone. “As you found it necessary to avoid my company, I thought you had no desire for leave-takings.”

  “I waited in the library thinking you would come alone,” he said, leading her from the hallway and into that room. Desiring nothing more than they should be private, he closed the door softly behind him and went immediately to stand before her.

  “I will wish you farewell now then, sir,” she said, attempting to avoid his gaze, but he captured both her hands and drew her closer, holding them secure against his chest.

  Bending his head, the better to read her averted countenance, he asked softly, “How shall we say our goodbyes, Caro? Do we shake hands as friends or merely bid adieu? Is that how a wife should leave her husband? Is there no other way?”

  “It will serve in our case,” she whispered, still unable to face him.

  “Foreswear, neither would be satisfactory, sweetheart. I desire a more intimate leave-taking, one more suited to husband and wife. Indeed, one that shows regret at parting,” and releasing one hand he cupped her chin, attempting to turn her face toward him.

  “Then tell me, as a wife, your wife, what I should do?” she asked quietly. “What is expected of me, I scarcely know where I stand?”

  “I will miss you dear Caro,” he said softly. “I have become used to having you with me, and you have become essential to my peace of mind. I did not realize until this moment just how necessary you are to me.”

  She examined his earnest countenance and placing her hand against his cheek replied, “And you to me, Richard.”

  He gave no reply but after only the slightest pause, he bent his head and tenderly kissed her, drawing her even closer to him, all caution being driven from his mind, knowing only the desire for the embrace.

  Unable to deny her own emotions, Caroline allowed the tensions to seep from her being and, resting against his powerful frame, returned the caress.

  His arms tightened and his lips became more insistent, almost demanding in their intensity but, aware of her naivety, he quickly tempered his passion lest his fervor should frighten her.

  Eventually, when his lips left hers, he rested his cheek against her curls as he retained her within a close embrace. “My little Caro,” he whispered, “I cannot believe how foolish I have been—” but in that instant, there came a discreet tap on the library door.

  He smiled ruefully, releasing her from his arms, but retaining her hand in his warm clasp. “It seems we are forever destined to be interrupted, my love. That will be to tell me that your coach is waiting to take its leave.”

  “No,” she cried. “We will not go. I will stay here with you. I cannot leave. I will wait until we are able to go to Lordings together.”

  “It is better that you should go, sweetheart,” he said raising her hand to his lips. “I promise you, I will come immediately I am able.” He grinned boyishly, “When I return to Lordings, there will be no opportunity for interruptions. I shall have you to myself and then we shall see whether you will be so eager for my company.”

  “I may or may not be,” she replied, peeping up at him roguishly, then feigning hauteur and turning her shoulder. “It would depend upon my mood, sir.”

  He found it imperative to snatch her to him once more. “You may find I have the power to change your moods,” he chuckled softly, looking down at her with amused indulgence, “and you will find I brook no defiance from my wife. I can prove a very tyrannical husband.” Once more he kissed her, but this time briefly. Though he was sorely tempted, it would not do to yield to temptation and let her stay. For the sake of her health and Julia’s it was better that they should leave for the country. With his newly found happiness, he did not intend to linger any longer in the city than was necessary.

  Taking her to the carriage door, he bowed briefly over her hand and handed her solicitously into the carriage, none noticing the intimate look that passed between them. Then of a sudden, she was gone and he was left standing alone on the pavement.

  Returning to the house, he paused momentarily in the hall, realizing that she had but just left its portals and immediately the house seemed unbearably empty. “You have taken me unawares, my little Caro,” he whispered to the empty hallway, a slow smile spreading over his countenance. “How could I, in my stupidity, think myself able to withstand your influence?”

  Chapter Seven

  “This way, mama,” cried Julia, pointing an imperative finger in the direction of the lake, and Caroline turned the governess cart away from the house, allowing the aged pony to amble at its own pace. They had been returned to Lordings for only three days, but already the child showed a great improvement. Much of her former energy had returned and Caroline delighted in her company, which proved a diversion from the constant wish for her husband’s presence.

  If she was pining, it did not show. She went about her daily tasks as mistress of the house with a lightness to her step and a gleam to her eye. None suspected her thoughts to be with a certain tall gentleman who found it necessary to remain, for that precise moment in time, in the city, and if she did not sleep at night for want of his presence, who was there to know. She had found there needed only a few minor adjustments to the alterations that had been effected in her absence and the garden room remained unmolested.

  The pony broke into a slow jog trot as it neared the lake and Julia giggled as she was thrown about on the seat and Caroline found it necessary to hold her in place with her arm as the wheels rolled over the stony ground. As they drew rein, the child would have jumped down, but Caroline restrained her and, herself climbing down, raised her arms to lift her. As she raised her from the cart, Julia once more pointed her finger. “Look mama,” she cried, continuing to point at the water’s edge. “See.”

  Caroline put the child on her feet but could not prevent her from running forward toward the lake, and catching her skirts, she ran after her. It was not until they reached the water’s edge that she saw what the child had been pointing at. A dark-haired youth of about her own age, dressed in ragged clothes, was lying face-downward on the bank with his legs in the water. A somewhat emaciated large black and white dog cowered at his side and at their approach, began to growl deep in its throat. At the sound, the youth attempted to raise his head and pull himself from the water, but it appeared the effort exhausted him.

  Fearful, lest the dog attempt to attack Julia, she put the child behind her, and remained a short distance from the pair and called, “Are you hurt?”

  His face appearing contorted with pain, the youth pushed himself up on his arms but did not reply, only admonishing the dog to be quiet in a harsh tone.

  “Are you hurt?” she repeated noting he seemed unable to move his leg, and advanced a little further.

  The youth nodded, a heavy scowl ever-present on his dark countenance. “Man trap,” he growled.
<
br />   “We set man traps?” she breathed in disbelief.

  “Not here,” he said, jerking his chin in the opposite direction. “Yonder. Lord Melchin’s land.”

  “And you have dragged yourself here?” she cried starting forward. “You must allow me to help you. I am fearful for the child, will you not call off your dog that I may see what damage has been done.”

  “No dog of mine,” stated the youth, pushing it away from his side, “and it’s because of this brute that I got caught in the trap. It stole my rabbit and I chased it.”

  “You had been poaching?” asked Caroline.

  “Aye, m’lady,” he confessed, having the grace to drop his eyes.

  “Well that is by-the-by—we must get you to the cart. I cannot leave you here in that state. Let me look at your leg,” and telling Julia to remain where she was, she moved forward as the youth took hold of the dog’s scruff.

  “What is your name?” she asked as she knelt by his side.

  “Peter, m’lady,” he replied, attempting to sit up and drag his leg clear of the lake.

  She caught her breath at the sight of the mangled limb, pieces of the bone evident through the torn flesh just above the ankle.

  “I thought it would ease the pain if I could soak my leg in the water,” he confessed, “but the pain was so great that I must have passed out and partially slid into the lake.”

  “I will take you back to Lordings and the doctor will be called immediately,” breathed Caroline, still shocked from the sight of the wound. “Do you think if I brought the cart closer to the edge, with my aid, you would be able to get into the back of it?”

  “I will try, though I will be too much for you, couldn’t you fetch help?”

  “That will take too long. I will manage well enough,” and taking hold of Julia’s hand she hurried her back to the governess cart.

  Placing the child onto the seat, Caroline led the horse to the lake’s edge, reversing the vehicle so that the back was immediately before the youth. Taking hold of the small step at the rear, Peter attempted to draw himself up into the back, but it was too much for him and he sank once more to the ground.

  “You will have to accept my aid,” stated Caroline hurrying forward to pass his arm around her shoulders, and once more he rose up, but this time with her support, he managed to pull himself into the back of the cart, lying flat on the boards. “What of the dog?” she asked as it came shivering to her side all former aggression forgotten.

  “Can it come?” asked Peter, but the dog waited for no approval. Jumping in beside him, it cowered down to lay its head on his chest.

  Climbing back into the driving seat, Caroline urged the pony to a trot, flinching at every jolt as they returned over the stony ground, knowing what discomfort it must cause her passenger.

  *****

  “The leg is broken,” stated Dr. North as he left the garden room where Peter had been placed on a day bed for his inspection. “If there is infection, I might need to remove the limb—I cannot tell until we see how the wound fares on the morrow. Where does he live?”

  “I believe he has no family but lives as he may,” said Caroline. “He will remain here until he is healed. I cannot turn him away.”

  “It would be far better that you do, my lady,” scowled the doctor. “Think of what your husband might say of you housing stray poachers and their curs.”

  “And where exactly do you suggest that he should go?” she asked sharply. The thought that she should cast the youth aside proved alien to her. She could not ignore his plight.

  “The poor house, my lady!”

  “Never! Neither my husband nor I would commit him there. He shall stay here until he is well enough to make other arrangements. The poultices you have ordered will be applied and the laudanum given, do you have any other orders?”

  “None, until we know tomorrow’s outcome. I will return and we shall see what has to be done. Until then, it’s best that he should remain sedated. Even so, I cannot guarantee the outcome. You must be prepared for the worst.”

  With this, the doctor departed, leaving Caroline to return to the patient, a patient who at that precise moment lay unconscious with the draught the doctor had administered. The dog came hesitantly forward, ears back and tail tentatively wagging and she laid her hand on its head. “You are the cause of this,” she chided softly, looking into the beseeching eyes. “I suppose we must make arrangements for you also.” She smiled as the dog crawled under the bed and lay with head on paws looking up at her. “I can see you have decided where you are to stay, but perhaps a visit to the kitchen is what is needed. We must put some flesh on you if you are to remain. I cannot tolerate that starved look.” Turning, she called the dog to heel and made toward the door and thence the kitchen where he was to be fed.

  *****

  When Caroline descended from her bedchamber the following morning, it was to find Dr. North already installed in the garden room, his patient scowling heavily at his ministrations but uttering no sound as he removed the dressings from the wound.

  “The leg fares better than I had expected,” stated the doctor on her arrival, “though it is not certain that I can save it. The wound is still very aggressive and will need much attention.”

  “I will not lose the leg,” stated Peter with some force, as he attempted to pull himself to a sitting position. “It will heal—there is no need to remove it.”

  Caroline came quickly forward to lay a calming hand on his shoulder and push him back onto the pillows. “If it is within his power, the doctor will save it,” she assured. “For now though, it is wise to tend to what he says and be calm. It will not help if you become agitated.”

  Caroline accompanied the doctor into the hallway as he prepared to take his leave.

  “I will come again this evening and, if the inflammation lessons, I will set the bone,” said Dr. North. “I dare not attempt it now, as with the swelling it is deceptive. I take it the trap was not set on your land, my lady?”

  “Certainly not! We do not employ such methods to deter poachers. We have keepers enough, and such methods are outdated and inhumane. I believe it to have been set on Lord Melchin’s land.”

  “Then it appears I must visit His Lordship. Such practices will not be tolerated. I wish you good day Your Ladyship.”

  *****

  “Whose night-shirt is this?” demanded Peter on her return, looking down at the fine linen garment into which he had been placed the previous day.

  “My husband’s,” she replied, drawing a chair up to his side. “Indeed, when you are able to leave your bed, there are other clothes of his you might have, even though they may be a little large.”

  “Did he put me into it?”

  “He is not at home.”

  “Then it was you?” he asked uncomfortably.

  She chuckled, realizing his embarrassment. “Certainly not! ’Twas one of the grooms who carried you to the house yesterday and waited upon you whilst you were unconscious.”

  Relieved he lay back, his face almost immediately contorting in pain and once more, she was on her feet and reaching for the doctor’s draught, but he pushed it aside.

  “I would prefer to stay awake whilst you are with me, m’lady,” he said gruffly. “I will take the draught later.”

  “I will assign one of the servants to wait on you,” she said, preparing to leave. “He can attend to your needs.”

  “Will you not stay a little while?” he pleaded, dreading her desertion. “I feel so much better when you are with me.”

  “Would you wish me to read to you?” she asked kindly, seeing his discomfort and hoping to divert his thoughts. “Perhaps it would soothe you a little.”

  He nodded his agreement, unable for that moment to speak, so intense was the pain.

  She read the poems of Lord Byron, but it mattered not what she read, just the sound of her voice washing over him was all that he needed. As she read, the dog crawled from beneath the bed where he had lain unn
oticed all morning and came to sit at her side, resting his head on her lap. Seeing him, Peter reached out his hand to stroke him.

  “What will you call him?” she enquired.

  “Dog,” he replied in some surprise. “What else should I call him?”

  “You will give him no name?

  “Aye, Dog!”

  So Dog it became and by degrees it was seen that he gained flesh as did his new master who, by the mere excellence of care he received, against all odds, retained his leg. Crutches were fashioned and, clad in the earl’s shirt and breeches, he was allowed to leave his bed, Dog being his constant companion. No mention had been made of the future. He dare not think beyond each day, fearful of the time, which would surely come, when he must leave. He had never seen the earl and it was therefore easy to dismiss him from his thoughts, even Julia did not bear witness to his existence, and he found it easy to ignore the fact of his reality. Caroline became his idol, his reason for being, and he lived only for her visits. With each passing day, his devotion for her grew and his previous life retreated further into the past as thoughts of her filled his every hour. He remembered not his family or any time when he had not fought for survival. His entire life seemed nothing but lone endurance and she now became the light of his existence.

  Had she been aware of this idolatry, she would have been alarmed, for she saw him as nothing but a soul who needed her support and this is how she mentioned him in her letters to her husband. For mention him she did, presenting him as a youth in need, assured that her husband would not object to her acting as benefactress. She did not see the dark-haired young man with startling good looks he had become, dressed in her husband’s clothes, nor did she see that his eyes ever followed her; otherwise, she would have felt no ease in his company for her thoughts remained as always with the earl.

  *****

  Impatiently, the Earl of Waverly paced the confines of his study and listened to the speech prepared by his secretary. “Yes, yes, it will do,” he said shortly, cutting across John Eaton’s words. “I know not how much longer this damned debate is to last, but it seems no nearer to its conclusion. No progress whatsoever is being made. One would have thought the deployment of troops in the Peninsular too advanced to excite opposition but there are still those who would argue. I am out of patients with the whole. Even those at the Ministry who are well aware of the dichotomies of war appear no nearer to resolving the matter.”