After the Rain

by Elizabeth Johns

  “It is a good thing they are dead,” he said. His voice was frighteningly calm.

  He walked on and was silent for a while as they traversed a pathway upwards from the lake and along the river. She could see his temple pulsing and he was clenching his fists. She would happily avoid telling him these things, but he wanted to know. They came to a canopy of greenery that seemed to be woven through trees, and he stepped behind an opening in a hedge she would have not noticed on her own. She followed him through and saw a beautiful waterfall flowing down the side of the hill.

  Christelle gasped with appreciation. She had never seen one before. Both she and her father watched as the water seemed to trickle in some places and beat hard against the rocks in others. It made a rushing sound and left a mist behind in the cool air before flowing away into the river. She could have watched it for hours.

  “The water is much stronger in the spring after the snow and ice has melted. But you will enjoy watching it in all seasons. But, come, let us return to the house. They will be wondering where we have gone to for so long. Your nose is red, and I am beginning to become chilled myself.”

  “I confess, I am cold too, but I do not wish to leave.”

  “I always feel the same. It will be here for you whenever you wish to view it.”

  He led her back down the path with a guiding hand, though her footing was sure in her boots, and took her arm and brought her close. The warmth was welcome as they came back out into the meadow and out of the protection of the trees. Her wool dress and pelisse were beginning to feel thin.

  “How did you come to be here now, Christelle?”

  “The school asked me to leave and I could not find a position in Paris. I had found my certificate of birth in my maman’s effects, so I decided to come here to look for you. A very nice gentleman helped me find employment at Madame Monique's in London. She recognized me and sent me to Lady Ashbury.”

  “A nice, honourable gentleman?” His voice wavered.

  “Yes, very honourable. He is a physician, and said he has two sisters near to my age.”

  “Thank God. Do you know what could have happened to you?”

  “I am well aware,” she said softly. “Unfortunately, your wife saw me in the shop and received quite a shock, though she was also very kind. I cannot imagine what she must feel.”

  “Yes, I am surprised she did not tell me sooner.” He looked away.

  “She had intended to tell you before you saw me. That was the plan. She did not wish for you to meet me on the street in London as she did.” Christelle felt the need to defend her.

  “I see.”

  He appeared to ponder this. Was he angry with Lady Beaujolais for not telling him sooner?

  “Give her time, she will come to care for you,” he added, but he looked irritated. “It is a blessing you do not resemble Lillian.”

  “I do not intend to be trouble for your wife or you. I am thankful I have had a chance to meet you.”

  “Do not speak as though I will not see you again,” he chided.

  “I would like that very much. But I do have a good home and I enjoy my work.”

  “Enough!” he said sternly. “Your home is with me. I am not going to let you leave the moment I have found you.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said, surprised—and warmed—by his vehemence.

  “Papa,” he corrected.

  “Papa,” she repeated slowly, trying the words on her tongue for the first time. “I never thought to say that.”

  “Oh, child.” He took her into his arms. “You have me now. We have each other now. What would you care to do next? Or do you need to rest? We need not hurry.”

  “May I meet my siblings? I have always wanted brothers and sisters.”

  “You have come to the right family. Jolie and I have three together, and her sisters have several offspring as well. Margaux's step-children are nearer your age, and two of them are here now. Catriona married some years ago.”

  “A large family sounds a dream come true. I think I would like to start with my own siblings first.”

  “Very well, to the nursery we go.” He began to stride with purpose.

  “Will they mind?” she asked, having second thoughts.

  “Fortunately, I think they are too young to be anything but delighted.”

  She let out a laugh that could have been mistaken for a giggle. It was hard not to run to the house with anticipation. This meeting had exceeded her expectations.

  “One more thing...Papa?”

  “Anything.”

  “Can you teach me about horses? Unfortunately, I was not permitted to ride at school.”

  “I would be delighted. Your mother was an excellent horsewoman, you know.”

  “I remember riding a pony with her when I was small.”

  She could feel his arm tense under his coat.

  “It will return to you quickly.”

  “I do think I would prefer to learn a less dramatic dismount,” she suggested dryly.

  “You minx!” he answered with an appreciative laugh.

  Seamus retired to the nursery to spend more time with the children. He was not prepared to face the adults and all their questions about Christelle. He had all but confessed his feelings for her to Gavin and Margaux. He never could have foreseen such an unlikely coincidence!

  “Seamus!” The children cried his name when he appeared in the nursery. All of them jumped to their feet and ran to mob him.

  He looked guiltily towards the nurses and mouthed, “My apologies.”

  He was not sure why he loved children so much. Perhaps it was from his time in the orphanage. It had been necessary to help with the younger ones there. He had discovered early on that it was easier to play with them than to scold them.

  “Say-mus?” Little Emmaline tugged his sleeve. “May we play Rescue the Damsel?”

  “May the children have some playtime now?” he asked one of the three nurses standing nearby.

  The nurses were smiling, so they could not be too angry. One of them nodded and said, “I think it would be acceptable.”

  “I will be the princess who has been kidnapped in the tower,” Simone pronounced.

  “Why do you always get to be the princess?” Emmaline asked, putting her hands on her hips.

  “Because I am the oldest girl,” Simone stated.

  Seamus had to hide a smile.

  “And you can be the knight in shining armour who rides gallantly on his steed to rescue me,” Simone said to Iain.

  “What shall we be?” the other children asked.

  “Emmy, you may be his squire. Rosie, you can be my handmaiden, and Francis, you can be the evil villain.”

  “What about me?” Seamus asked.

  “The horsey!” all of the children replied in unison. He was always the horsey.

  Seamus chuckled and began to remove his coat and waistcoat. He rolled up his sleeves and removed his boots. Nursery games were no place for dignity, especially when he was to be the horse. “What is my name to be?” he asked as he got down on all fours and into position.

  “Copenhagen,” Iain announced.

  “An excellent choice,” he agreed as his brother mounted his back and the other children took their places.

  “Tally ho!” Iain commanded as Simone began to wail, ‘Save me! Save me!’ from her position atop the table.

  Seamus commenced making trotting noises and moved forward as Francis jumped in front of him with his wooden sword.

  Iain dismounted and a fencing match ensued to the cheers of all of the other children. Once Seamus had to intervene when Francis became too intent on killing his rival.

  Iain gained the upper hand and Francis died admirably, thumping on to the floor with a loud groan and limbs splayed convincingly.

  Iain eventually managed to rescue Simone and both of them were safely on his back and galloping away when the Duke appeared in the doorway of the nursery.

  “Papa!” Rosie shouted and took off t
owards Yardley.

  The nursemaids immediately began rounding up their charges, while Seamus remained on all fours with his head down, chastising himself. How could he not have realized who Christelle was? Rosalind and Christelle looked just like Yardley. Standing up, he had begun to brush off his knees and pull down his shirtsleeves when he noticed Christelle was standing there staring at him.

  “Dr. Craig! What are you doing here?”

  “Lady Christelle.” He bowed before running his hand through his hair to smooth it, as if he had any shred of dignity left.

  “You two know each other?” the Duke asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

  Christelle smiled. “Yes, this is the gentleman who rescued me.”

  “Seamus?”

  “It is true, sir, though I did not realize who she was until a few moments ago. I cannot believe I did not see it before.”

  “It is rather an uncanny resemblance. Do not berate yourself, Women tend to be more adept at these things. I am grateful you were there to help her,” Yardley answered. His tone was sincere.

  Seamus inclined his head. There was little else to say without the Duke making wrong assumptions.

  “Papa, who is your guest?” Simone asked with all of her dignity, as though she had not just been screaming indignantly from her princess’s tower.

  “Ah, yes. Lady Christelle, may I introduce to you your sisters and brother: Lady Simone, Lord Stanton and Lady Rosalind.”

  “A sister?” Simone asked as she cocked her head to the side.

  “It is astonishing, is it not? You know I told you I was married before.”

  Simone nodded.

  “I found out today that I had a daughter I did not know about.”

  Simone looked more closely at Christelle before smiling. She stepped forward and curtsied deeply before her. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sister.”

  “And I yours.” Christelle returned the curtsy and came up with tears of joy in her eyes. Francis and Rosalind also greeted her, but with a bit more exuberance.

  “Is Rosalind a family name? It was also one of my given names,” Christelle asked Yardley.

  “It is my mother’s name,” Yardley answered, still looking as if he was struggling to contain his emotions.

  “You will not get to be the princess in the tower now,” Rosalind said to Simone.

  “Oh, no,” Christelle said as she shook her head. “I have already been rescued.” She looked over to Seamus with a smile which melted his heart. He wished no one else was there to watch.

  “I must take Christelle to meet the rest of the family,” Yardley said.

  “So soon?”

  “Perhaps she can return after tea to spend more time with you all and meet the rest of the children.”

  “I would like that very much,” Christelle assured the children.

  “Seamus, will you join us?” Yardley asked with a penetrating look.

  Seamus had stepped back from the scene in order to don his coat and attempt to repair his neck-cloth, which had been used for reins. He had been very much caught off-guard by Yardley’s invitation and would have preferred to remain invisible for the moment.

  “I am certain everyone will wish to hear of how you found and rescued Christelle,” the Duke was saying.

  Seamus looked around at all the faces staring at him in awe. He would very much prefer to stay here and play horsey than face the Ashbury inquisition. However, he could not politely refuse.

  “Of course, I would be delighted,” he said instead.

  Chapter 13

  There were so many people in the room, and it would be very difficult to keep them all organized in her head. Christelle looked around the parlour, which was elegant yet simple. It was similar in size to the Ashbury drawing room in London, but felt much smaller with the entire family in occupation. The walls were covered in heavily gilded frames of stern-looking ancestors, she presumed, interspersed with some landscapes. The draperies and the carpets were of red tones and the walls and ceiling were ivory. The room was flanked with matching fireplaces, and there were several sofas arranged for conversing.

  There were three Beaujolais! Then she recognized Lord and Lady Ashbury, of course, and it seemed there was a husband for each of the triplet sisters. Seamus walked over to a girl who appeared to be near her own age and shared the same colouring as Dr. Craig. She must be one of his sisters.

  It would be very difficult to remain calm and not become overwhelmed. Everyone had risen to their feet and all of their faces were staring at her.

  “I expect you have all heard that this is my daughter, Christelle.” Her father pointed towards where Seamus Craig stood near a family. “Let me introduce you to everyone you have not met. This is Lord Craig and his wife, Margaux, Lady Craig. As you can no doubt surmise, they are Dr. Craig's parents, and this is his sister, Maili.”

  “We are very pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Christelle,” Lord Craig said. He had kind eyes and a gentle manner much like his son. Lady Craig smiled at her very kindly.

  “And this is Lord Harris and his wife, Anjou, Lady Harris. Margaux and Anjou are the sisters of Beaujolais.”

  “Yes, I can see the resemblance.” Christelle smiled.

  “Welcome to the family.” Anjou added her voice to the greetings. Her husband was handsome, though he looked like a pirate.

  “Please take a seat and we can ring for tea.” Beaujolais gestured towards a sofa with scrolled armrests. Christelle noticed that her father had joined his wife and had taken her hand, discreetly smoothing his thumb back and forth over it.

  Christelle hoped she was not causing too much distress between them. She would very much like some time alone now, to try to think through everything that had happened, but she sat down and tried to make herself pleasing. Dr. Craig came to sit in the chair nearby and she relaxed.

  “This is quite a surprise,” he said quietly.

  “Yes, but I am grateful for a familiar face.”

  “That is good to hear,” he commented. “I still cannot believe I did not realize who you were from the beginning.”

  “Non. Why would you have? We only see the things we expect to see.”

  “Are you rubbing along well with Yardley?”

  “I believe so. He has been very kind and accepted the news better than I could have hoped.”

  “I am relieved to hear it. You look very tired. I imagine this has been quite an ordeal.”

  “I am not used to so much attention and my nerves were quite on edge beforehand,” she admitted.

  “I think it would be understandable if you asked to rest. No one would think the worse of you.”

  “I want to, but equally I do not want to. I know it does not make sense.”

  “If you need time for quiet reflection, just ask.” He leaned in close and she could smell his comforting musky scent.

  “I think a walk later would be very welcome.”

  “Christelle, pray tell us how you and Seamus came to know one another?” Beaujolais asked, interrupting their private cose.

  She could feel heat rising to colour her face. She was not prepared for answering these questions in front of the entire family.

  “Christelle and I happened upon each other by accident,” Seamus said, filling in the uncomfortable silence. “She had just arrived from Paris and was not certain in which direction to go, so I helped her. Grandpère was kind enough to tell us which modiste the family used, and I took her to Madame Monique. She recognized Lady Christelle, whereas I did not.”

  “What an uncanny coincidence. It has all turned out well, though, has it not?” Lord Ashbury asked.

  “Will you be coming out this Season?” Maili asked.

  Christelle had no idea what she meant. Her face must have showed her confusion.

  “She means dèbut,” Margaux explained. “Maili is of age and will be going to London for what we call the Season.”

  “It is balls and parties and rides in the park,”
Maili said wistfully. “It would be great fun to share it with my new cousin.”

  Christelle looked over to Yardley, who was watching her intently.

  “I think sharing the Season would be an excellent idea, if Christelle is comfortable with it,” Lady Ashbury agreed.

  “We have plenty of time to make those decisions,” Yardley said.

  Childers and another servant brought in the tea tray and a tray of delicacies.

  The focus was taken from Christelle as the family served tea and carried on conversations between themselves. Her father and Beaujolais were in an intimate conversation, while Maili joined her and Seamus.

  Maili was bright and cheerful. She had a pleasant, unassuming manner and seemed well pleased with everyone and everything. Christelle felt envious of her open, easy ways, but also felt comfortable with her. She had the same auburn hair and grey eyes of her brother, but appeared more radiant, most likely because of her personality.

  “Are you eighteen?” Maili asked boldly.

  “I will be seventeen on this day next week,” Christelle answered, keeping her eyes on her tea-cup. She did not wish to look Dr. Craig in the eye. Would he think her too juvenile?

  “Splendid!” Maili exclaimed. “We have an excuse for a party.”

  “No, I do not think...” Christelle started to object.

  “Maili, can you not see Christelle is quite overwhelmed already?” Seamus chided gently.

  “Oh.” Maili cocked her head and appeared to consider it.

  “Let us allow her to become acclimatized to her new circumstances before we arrange her social calendar for the next twelvemonth.”

  “I beg your pardon, Lady Christelle,” Maili said, pouting prettily. “I am so delighted to have a cousin of my own age, I forgot my manners.”

  “There is nothing to forgive,” Christelle said. “I, too, am very happy to have a family.”

  Maili cast a contemptuous glance at Seamus, though Christelle saw it. Maili excused herself to go and speak to Margaux.

  “Maili does not remember what it was like before. She was very young when our parents died. She has never seemed to be as affected as Catriona and I were,” he explained, setting his tea-cup down in its saucer on the table.