“Surely you must know that you are my dearest of all friends,” she whispered, meeting his searching gaze, “and the thought that I might lose you terrifies me.”
For a moment, he paused, looking into the face he held so dear, holding her eyes with his own. Slowly he raised his hand and with his forefinger, gently traced the contours of her cheek and chin. Oblivious of his surroundings, risking all, he took that face between his hands. Bending his head, he gently kissed her. Finding no resistance, the tenderness deepened to a poignant longing and he held her tightly to him, rejoicing that after only the briefest hesitation she returned the caress and allowed her slender form to rest against his frame.
However, this would not do, the temptation to stay was too great and he must be away. He had, in part, received the answer to his unspoken question. More would be said on his return.
Releasing her from his embrace, he once again held her face between his hands. “My little love,” he whispered. “All will be well, have no fear,” and as she would have given a reply he stopped her words with the briefest kiss and turning on his heel, was gone.
The horses’ hooves clattered over the cobbled yard as the driver drove the equipage out of the yard. Jane watched its departure in tumultuous confusion, a whole range of thoughts passing through her brain.
The realization that her dearest friend returned her affection made her want to cry out to him to stay, to be reassured, to acknowledge his devotion. It would indeed seem an age until his return and she would be disconsolate.
Retracing her steps back into the inn, she did not go immediately to Harry’s bedchamber, as had been her original intent, but instead went into the parlor to sit dejectedly by the window. Sounds issuing from the kitchens told her that the morning meal was being prepared, but when the maid arrived with a laden tray to tempt her appetite, she declined and sent her away.
She had not been prepared for the feelings of despondency that Robert’s departure would create. Instead of feeling joy at his declaration, she felt a sadness at his going that she knew would last until she witnessed his safe return.
***
The mood of the occupant inside the speeding coach however, was at a complete variance to the scene he had left behind. Leaning back against the squabs his thoughts raced, noticing not at what speed or in what direction they traveled. A great elation welled within him and a desire for possession. Jane must be his, he must secure her affections. There must be no delay and they would be married as soon as she would allow. Never had such ardent emotions been awakened in his breast, and smiling secretly to himself, he allowed his imagination full reign, anticipating Jane’s reaction upon his return. Once married, she would be his and he would have the right to protect her, to defend her from whatever dangers fate would throw in their way. He was even aware of an affection for Harry, for after all, it was his initial misunderstanding of the situation that had brought the determination that he must have Jane and protect her come what may.
He had set out on this journey to Portugal in the hope of finding some peace of mind. He had not realized that it would be his companion who would prove to be his redemption, and to what degree he would come so to rely on her company and affection. Now he could be at peace with Stefan and, if granted the opportunity to provide for her future, he would treasure the care of the babe, his niece. The Fates, after all, had been kind, kinder than he had ever dared hope or thought he had the right to expect. Now he could recommence his life after spending so long in the realms of torment.
***
The contours of Spain rose on either side as they passed groves of oranges and olives decimated in the recent battles. On two occasions, they drove through deserted villages that had been devastated by the war, only the occasional fowl or pig remaining as their inhabitants.
Around midday, when the coach had halted to change horses at an inn on the outskirts of a small town, Proctor entered the coach bringing a light repast of wine, bread and cold meats for the duke. It had been decided that his grace should remain within the coach when it made such necessary stops, believing that the cloak of anonymity would be their only real defense.
Upon being invited to share the meal, closing the door behind him, Proctor took the seat opposite.
“When do you anticipate we should arrive at the convent?” Robert asked, slaking his thirst with the wine Proctor had provided.
“If all goes well, we should arrive sometime in the early evening, sir,” Proctor replied.
The duke, tearing the portion of bread in two and offering half to his companion, appeared thoughtful. “Then we must hope to be offered accommodation for the night. If we wish our presence to remain unnoticed it would be unwise to attempt lodgings at any of the inns in the area.”
Proctor nodded his agreement. “Although I can’t guarantee it, sir, we must trust that the sisters will feel obliged to accommodate us when they know the reason for our visit.”
“My desire is merely to secure the babe and return to Portugal as soon as possible. Indeed, it is to our advantage to remain only a short time in Spain. Should our presence become known we have not the power to withstand an assault. We are definitely in no position for heroics.”
Proctor grimaced slightly, “I have heard no reports of troops in the area although there is always the guerrilleros to consider; we are armed but would be unable to withstand an all-out attack.”
“Then we must make what headway we can before it turns to dusk, we should not be abroad when the light starts to fade.”
Returning once more to their journey they increased the pace wherever it was practicable, passing few fellow travelers on the road, but it would not do to become too complacent and relinquish their vigilance. Proctor, from his vantage point on the box, remained ever watchful. The rifleman had developed a respect for this duke, who was certainly no fop. He felt an allegiance to both him and his cause and would do whatever was in his power to ensure a successful outcome.
As the shadows started to lengthen, they deserted the roadway to make their way along nothing more than a track that led away from the main route toward the wooded hills. The unevenness of the ground caused the carriage to sway heavily from side to side causing the duke some discomfort and he swore softly at the irritation. However, after a short while, the sight of a low-whitewashed building nestling in the trees above them rewarded his forbearance and he sat forward eagerly, the better to view its approach.
As the coach drew up outside its large, wooden gates, the dying sun cast its final rays over the white plaster walls giving them an almost ethereal glow. The duke stepped slowly down from the coach taking in the vision but Proctor was at the gates before him and vigorously rang the large brass bell that hung from a chain at the entrance. As the duke joined him, Proctor spoke quietly to the face that appeared at the grille, which after a short discourse disappeared once more into the interior, and they waited patiently for her return.
Slowly the large heavy gate swung open and the small figure of the nun beckoned them to enter. Silently leading the way, she took them through the low, poorly lit cloisters, scurrying before them like a small bird. Her companions’ boots echoed within the confines of the walls as they traversed the stone floors, giving the impression that they intruded in this holy place. There was an air of hushed suspension within the buildings as they entered through a low door at the further side of the quadrangle and were guided to a small anti chamber which was surprisingly well lit by several candles.
“We are to wait here for the Abbess,” Proctor informed the duke as he went to peer through the darkened casement into the hills beyond just as the final rays of the sun disappeared over the horizon and darkness enveloped the hillside.
After what seemed an eternity, the door opened once more to admit the tall, angular figure of the Abbess. “You must forgive me, gentlemen, I was at my prayers,” she said in surprisingly good, though heavily accented, English. “Please be seated and then you can tell me the reason for your visit. W
e so seldom receive visitors that I take it is of some import, especially to arrive so late in the day.”
The duke brought forward one of the wooden chairs that ranged about the walls but waited for the Abbess to sit behind the table that stretched across the corner of the room, before seating himself. “You must forgive our intrusion,” he said quietly, “but we have travelled far this day. We come in the belief that you secure my brother’s child within your walls, a babe scarce six months old?”
“We have but one infant here, though three older children,” the Abbess said, clasping her hands on the table before her. “I believed her to be without family. The child who bore her said that she had been cast out and did not wish us to try to contact her relatives. Who are you and what is your connection to the babe?”
“I am Robert Blake, Duke of Lear, and the babe’s uncle,” the duke replied with some perplexity, it had not occurred to him that his credentials might be scrutinized. “The child’s father was my younger brother Stefan, and although he died before he was able to marry the mother, I believe I can lay some claim to the infant. I can assure her future; she would return home to England with me and become my ward. I was only made aware of her existence myself a few days ago, but I can assure you she will be cherished and will receive only the best of care. I am not without means and she shall be raised as my own.”
The Abbess did not immediately reply, but studied the duke’s countenance. On first impression, she liked this man, but it would not do to make a judgment so early on in the acquaintance. Titles did not impress, they belonged to a world she had long since relinquished. Therefore she said, “The hour is late, we will continue this discussion tomorrow when we have both had a chance to reflect on the matter. Accommodation will be made available for you and your men, and a meal provided when you are ready.” She rose to leave, indicating that the interview was over. “I will send Sister Augustine to you to show you to your cells and thence to the dining room.”
The duke was nonplussed; he was not used to being so summarily dismissed and in such a manner. Reason, however, told him he must comply, but he asked, “What is the babe’s name?”
The Abbess hesitated. “The child called her Sophie. I believe it to be a family name?”
“It was our mother’s name,” the duke replied with some surprise. “How came she to know?”
“Ah, Sara said it belonged to the paternal grandmother and it was what the babe’s father would have wished, had he lived.” She smiled, “At least now I have some confirmation of your connection. Now, gentlemen, I will wish you goodnight, we will speak of the matter again on the morrow.”
***
Alone in his sparse cell, the duke lay with arms folded behind his head on the wooden cot which, although narrow, was not uncomfortable. His thoughts ranged between Jane and the babe and again the realization of just how different his life was to become overtook him. He did not doubt that Jane would welcome Sophie with open arms, for had she not a generous heart? However, he would needs beware not to over burden her at this moment in time, when Harry’s welfare was uppermost in her mind. Watching the moon slowly make its way across the un-curtained window, he eventually drifted into the realms of a deep and pleasant slumber.
***
“I have given the matter a great deal of thought, Señor Blake,” said the Abbess when she sat in her office with the duke the following morning. “Although we promised Sara that we would rear the child, she was not to know that you would come in search of her and therefore would not be able to make an enlightened decision. I believe it to be right to restore Sophie to her family. It would be a very lonely life for a child to be brought up within these cloisters and she should have the advantages that you are able to give to her. ”
“I can assure you that I will…” started the duke, but the Abbess raised her hand and impatiently cut short his reply.
“Please allow me to finish,” she said rising to pace the room. “Before I take you to see the child, I have a favor to ask of you in return, and I want you to consider it carefully. When Sara came to us, she struck up a friendship with Hannah, a young girl of fifteen who had lost her parents in one of the previous battles. She had been left in our care by an uncle who served with Wellington, with the promise to return to claim her. That was over a year ago and still he has not returned. We do not know whether he survives. Hannah has now expressed a wish to return to England to try to find her relatives. She helps with the care of Sophie and has no wish to be separated from her. Would you consider taking her with you to England? She is a quiet girl and will not impose, indeed, she is somewhat shy.”
It struck Robert that this could be the answer to a problem that had concerned him for the past few days. “I travel with Miss Chandler and her brother,” he replied. “Hannah can act as Sophie’s nursemaid under her guidance. That is, if she would agree to accompany us in that role?”
“I am sure she would,” the Abbess said, giving a rare smile. “Now I will take you to meet your niece. I have kept you apart long enough and it is time you made her acquaintance.”
They left the office and once more traversed the echoing cloisters, which, now the sun was up, bore no resemblance to the deeply shadowed corridors of the previous evening.
The quadrangle set in the center of the buildings was bathed in sunlight and on its grassy lawn were two small children playing with a ball. Set slightly to the side, on a low stool, sat a young girl with dark hair and pleasing features. In her lap she cradled a sleeping infant whose bright blonde hair shone almost as a halo in the morning sun and as the two approached opened its startling blue eyes and gurgled happily.
“This, Señor Blake, is your niece,” the Abbess said, taking the babe from the girl and presenting her to the duke. He hesitated for a moment before taking her into his arms, holding her with a gentleness he did not know he possessed. As he examined the babe’s features, he felt a tenderness come into being that was completely foreign to him.
“Although she has not the coloring of my brother she has the look of him,” he said, his voice deepening with emotion, not risking himself at that moment to say more. Instead, he bent and kissed the babe’s cheek, marveling at her perfection, and held her momentarily against his breast before returning her to the young girl’s arms.
“And you are Hannah?” he questioned, addressing the girl who reddened under his scrutiny, but nodded her head. “I believe you wish to return to England,” he continued not altogether displeased with her modesty. “Would you consider accompanying us as Sophie’s nurse? I travel with a lady companion so you will be assured of some guidance in her care should you require it.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hannah replied in a pleasantly low voice. “I would like that above everything. Sophie is used to me and I will take good care of her.”
“We will leave at first light for Elvas, will you be ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
Robert smiled. “Good girl, I am sure you will do famously,” then turning to the Abbess, “Could we impose on your hospitality for just one more night? It would be safer for us to return on the morrow and complete the journey in one day without having to put up at some inn overnight?”
The Abbess nodded her agreement. “It will give us time to make arrangements for their departure,” she said, indicating that he should follow her and return indoors. “In the meantime perhaps you would wish to avail yourself of our library. We have many fine old books that you may find of interest.”
***
They commenced the return journey the following morning just as the first fingers of dawn crept over the adjoining hills. Robert waited whilst Hannah and the babe were settled comfortably in the interior of the coach before joining them. He hoped that the return would prove as uneventful as their outward journey.
Hannah proved herself quite capable of caring for Sophie, indeed the pair appeared quite self-sufficient, and it could be seen that a bond existed between them. It was a totally new and not altogether un
pleasant experience for him to be in such close proximity to an infant. Indeed, a completely unexpected experience, finding a tenderness in himself he never knew he owned.
When he had previously envisaged a family, it had been something to consider in the future when he would fulfill his obligation to provide an heir. Now, within a short space of time, he had acquired a ward and had a fervent desire to take a wife. He still could not believe how his world had taken such a complete turnabout in so short a time. The future promised to be far less bleak than it had appeared less than two weeks ago. Stovely would at last become a home. Their home! The thought of it beckoned him to return to its stately portals and he found himself eager to comply.
***
When they were within twenty miles of the Portuguese border, Robert was on the point of congratulating himself on the ease of the journey when they were brought to a sudden halt. Cautiously looking out the window, he saw a small company of French cavalry headed by a young officer barring their path.
On the box, Proctor slid his hand slowly between the seats and curled his fingers around the stock of his rifle. He would normally have carried it placed across his lap but had deemed it prudent to keep it out of sight for fear of drawing attention and he was glad of the fact. It would not do to antagonize the troop. The travelers were too heavily outnumbered and to show any signs of resistance at this point would bring about certain death. Instead, he hailed the officer good-humoredly whilst the driver sat silently at his side, his eyes dark with fear.
The officer brought his horse alongside the carriage and demanded to know their destination, but before Proctor could make a reply, the duke opened the carriage door and stepped down into the road.
“What is the reason for this delay?” he demanded in his impeccable French. “Have we not suffered enough?”
My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance) Page 9