After the Rain

by Elizabeth Johns

  What game was Cole playing? Why did Lillian’s past matter so much to him?

  It was now or never. Cole was leading Christelle away towards the gate. Seamus followed behind as closely as he dared, hoping it would be safer when they exited the gardens. He would be easy prey in the cover of the trees. There was also a lady’s reputation to protect.

  Seamus could hear footsteps approaching and Yardley yelling, “Christelle!”

  Apparently he did not care who heard.

  “We must leave at once. I do not intend for this to be the finale,” Cole growled impatiently.

  “I will not leave. I hear my father now.”

  “Yes, you will.” He pulled out the blade and held it to her throat.

  Seamus cursed under his breath. It would be better to wait for help. One of them would have to take Cole from behind.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Christelle whimpered.

  “You are the unfortunate pawn. When I saw you in Dover, I finally knew how to repay Yardley and his perfect duchess. 'Tis a shame, since I like you.”

  He pushed her forward and through the gate. Seamus ran after them as Cole forced her into a boat and began rowing away.

  “Christelle!” Yardley shouted breathlessly, clutching his side.

  “He has taken her by boat!” Seamus called to him.

  Seamus quickly scanned the landing and there were no other boats awaiting his convenience. He shed his coat and boots at lightning speed. There was nothing left for him to do but jump.

  Chapter 23

  Where are you taking me?” Christelle asked belligerently, as Cole began to row away from the landing.

  “Not terribly far. I am only one man rowing. It will not be long before your triumvirate follows. Do not think of jumping. I can throw the knife as well as I can wield it.”

  Christelle scowled at him. She might take her chances, but she would take them wisely. She glanced about her, searching for any means of escape. The moon was not bright, and the gaslights did not reach this far. The bottom of the Thames would be better than being his captive.

  She thought she saw another boat not too far in the distance, and thought she might be able to use it to her advantage.

  “Repay my father for what?” she asked calmly, continuing on from his earlier remark, and hoping he would think she was going along with him for now.

  He made a sound of disapproval. “Did you learn nothing from Hamlet? I had such high hopes for you,” he said disparagingly.

  “You mean that to avenge his father's death, Hamlet had to commit the very same act for which he sought revenge?”

  Cole narrowed his eyes. It gave him a look of the devil. It frightened her.

  “I do not understand what this has to do with me.”

  “Your dear mother and my dear uncle, Christelle.”

  “Your uncle?” she asked blankly.

  “Indeed. Have you any idea what it feels like to be unable to take your rightful place in Society? To be forced to seek employment in foreign lands to hide? To be unable to use your own legitimate title?”

  She could hear the venom in his words.

  “I do not understand.”

  “Of course you do not, you have been lied to from the beginning. It is why I decided to save you from them and repay them, all in the same delightful scheme.”

  “Please enlighten me, then,” she said. She noticed the other boat gaining on them from behind. Thankfully, Cole seemed unaware of it.

  “With pleasure,” he seethed as he pushed and pulled in the oars.

  It seemed her chance of escape was becoming possible, but she was also enthralled by what he was saying.

  “Because of your father and his Duchess, your mother and my uncle were killed—murdered, to be precise. They spread horrific lies about them and sullied their good names, and therefore my good name.”

  “Who was your uncle?” She noticed Cole slowed his rowing while he was talking. She must keep him distracted. “Lord Dannon?” she asked as the thought struck her.

  “In the flesh.” He inclined his head mockingly.

  Suddenly, so much made sense.

  “Why would anyone condemn you for your uncle's behaviour? Why not prove yourself worthy on your own merit?” Evil must surely run in the blood, she thought. Dannon explained so much... but how had her father seen it?

  “You are naive beyond measure,” Cole spat. “Are you certain you are Lillian's daughter? She was clever and cunning. Never fear, I have high hopes for you.”

  “Tell me where we are going,” Christelle insisted. Her time was running out. Any moment, Cole would recognize that the other boat was almost upon them. Should she scream first or jump?

  “We can have a beautiful partnership. I think you will enjoy your mother’s line of work. You must have some of her blood in you.”

  “Never,” she said, seething beneath a calm veneer.

  A body sprang up from the river and pulled Cole backwards. He lost his balance, falling into the water, and a terrifying fight broke out.

  Oh, she could not watch. But she could not not watch. But who was fighting with Cole? The man’s back was turned to her, it was dark and they were drenched. It must be her father. She had heard him call out to her.

  He threw a punch, and Cole grabbed his opponent around the neck, trying to force him under. Someone from the other boat began yelling at her to come to them, but she could not abandon her rescuer. She took one of the oars, which was much heavier than she would have expected, and reaching out, jabbed Cole in the head. She lost her balance and fell over in the boat.

  She heard more splashing and gasping for air and she struggled back to her feet.

  She looked up to see that Lord Harris had taken hold of the small craft she was in and was holding out his hand to her.

  “Come, Christelle!” he said in hushed tones.

  She looked back to the battle in the water and saw there were now three men there fighting.

  “Seamus! Father!” she yelled, as one man landed a punch on Cole. They were all going to drown!

  Cole was fighting back as one possessed, as if he knew his life depended on it.

  “They cannot sustain this for long,” Lord Craig was saying.

  “Throw them a rope!” Harris ordered to some of his oarsmen. As they were doing so, Christelle saw a flash of metal in the water.

  “Look out!” she warned, but Cole’s hand was already wielding the knife.

  “Nooooo!” a voice yelled as she dived in and joined in the fight, grabbing Cole’s arm and holding it tight. She kicked with all her might to stay above the water but her dress worked against her. She could not believe Cole’s superhuman strength as she held and bit his arm. He fought like a wild animal struggling for life.

  Yardley and Seamus were able to contain him, but swimming while pulling a writhing, kicking beast was difficult.

  Christelle could sense one of the men being pulled away and she fought harder to hold Cole’s arm as he tried to force the knife down again. They were pushing against each other and the knife was angled down towards her. Her strength would not hold out much longer.

  Her father pulled Cole towards the boat, and suddenly she heard the awful sound of metal cutting flesh and Cole stopped fighting.

  She was hauled into the boat, and several men dragged Cole in too before lending Yardley a hand. They were all panting and struggling to catch their breath. Her father's arms came around her. “Do not ever do such an idiotic thing again!” he whispered.

  But where was Seamus?

  “Seamus!” she cried weakly, her voice betraying her. “Where is Seamus?” She looked around, beginning to panic.

  “Hush, my love. He was injured. Gavin is tending to him.”

  She tried to look around the man to find Seamus. She must see him.

  Her father held her tight. “Gavin is helping him. You may see him when we are on shore.”

  The oarsmen were rowing to the bank and it seemed an eternity before
they stopped. They must have been at the widest part of the river.

  Harris's men lifted Seamus from the boat and set him on the ground. Christelle ran to him and practically threw herself on to him, sobbing.

  “Vous ne pouvez pas mourir!” she wailed.

  “I have no intention of dying, my love,” he replied.

  She looked up to see two amused eyes twinkling at her.

  “You are not dying?”

  “I hope not. I might be laid up for a few days, though.”

  She glanced down at the large makeshift bandage wrapped around his leg.

  Her whole body sighed with relief and she took his face in her hands and kissed him, with no regard for who was watching.

  A throat cleared loudly. “Christelle.”

  Seamus pushed her back and she looked up defiantly.

  Her father was standing there with a look of dismay on his face. “I had no idea.”

  She looked up sheepishly, too late remembering they had an audience.

  “It is Seamus I wish to marry, Papa.”

  He was still staring with astonishment.

  “If Yardley does not approve your suit after this, I’ll call him out myself,” Harris said to Seamus as he came to stand over them.

  Seamus chuckled before passing out from exhaustion.

  “For one who chooses to blend in with the scenery, you have made some very big scenes the past two days,” Gavin said as he entered the room where Seamus was propped up in bed, much in the invalid state. He vastly preferred the position of issuing commands to that of patient.

  Yardley followed Gavin in, looking surprisingly fit after the events of the previous evening. He leaned over to where his daughter sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her cheek, without casting a glance at her. Taking a seat in the armchair next to the bed, he crossed one leg over the other as though it was any typical morning.

  “Sir Seamus has quite a ring to it,” Yardley teased, languidly examining his fingernails.

  “But alas, it is not to be,” Gavin said with a grin. He walked to the other side of the bed and removed the bandage, to examine the wound on Seamus’s leg.

  “Thank heavens,” Seamus replied.

  “Instead, our King has decided to bequeath you with Dannon’s title and lands, which have reverted to the Crown upon Cole’s death,” Yardley announced.

  There was a long, silent pause as the Duke’s words registered with Seamus.

  “What a ridiculous thing to do for my trying to save the woman I love.” Surely they jested.

  Christelle reached for his hand and squeezed it.

  “Face it, my son. You are a hero, and much, much worthier of the honour than Dannon ever was,” Gavin said, checking for fever.

  “You are serious, then?” In disbelief Seamus looked from one to the other.

  “Indeed we are. We have the proclamation right here.” Yardley handed it to Seamus, though he did not look at it.

  “There is one thing I can agree with Cole on,” Seamus said, casting a glance down at his wound.

  “And that is?”

  “I have no wish to be known by that name.”

  “A man makes his own name for himself. Although I understand why you would hesitate,” Yardley commiserated.

  “I am quite content being plain Seamus Craig, you know.”

  “I know. You are whom I fell in love with,” Christelle said with unmasked adoration in her eyes.

  “You will still have the opportunity to advance your causes, but now in Parliament. Even more when you add your voice to Gavin's. Think about it. You do not have to decide today.”

  “The King has not wasted any time.” Seamus had barely woken up from his exhausting ordeal. Not only had he swum for what had felt like the length of the Channel, it had been followed up with a fight to the death. It still did not seem real that Cole was gone.

  “What I would like to know,” Seamus asked Yardley, “is how you managed to have the boat ready? Everything up to that point had been pure speculation on your part. Or is everything truly at your beck and call when you are a duke?” he asked with a grin.

  “Not quite. It finally occurred to Harris where he had seen Cole before.”

  “And where was that?” Christelle asked.

  “Jersey.”

  “I do not remember him from my time there,” she said with a frown. “I would have remembered.”

  “I suspect it was all after you left. He inherited the property upon his uncle’s death.

  I was also tipped off by Lorena and Noelle, or rather, Beaujolais was.”

  “The seamstresses?”

  “Yes. They were two of the girls we rescued from Jersey all those years ago. Mr. Cole had come there looking for you when he returned to London.”

  “Oh.” The single word was all she could utter. Christelle had not known. “Perhaps they were afraid when they realized I was Lillian's daughter. They were quite different to me after I returned.”

  “Or they were afraid of Cole.”

  “Who threw the knife at Cole?” Christelle asked.

  The men looked at one another. “I do not know what you are referring to,” her father answered blankly.

  “Perhaps it is best not to know, my love,” Seamus suggested quietly.

  “We will leave you two, with the door open,” Yardley said, standing up and giving them a warning glance. “Suffice it to say, you have my blessing.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Seamus held out his hand to shake Yardley’s.

  “I still cannot believe I did not see it before.”

  “I was trying to allow her to adjust to the changes in her life, and give her the opportunity to change her mind. When one can have a duke or a doctor…”

  “Is that what happened?” Christelle asked, clearly offended.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I did not know if I would be acceptable any more.”

  “Your only charge is to make her happy,” Yardley remarked as he and Gavin left the room. Gavin was last to leave and pulled the door shut with a wink.

  “I will forgive you for that since you saved my life,” Christelle said as she climbed onto the bed next to Seamus and slid her hand in his.

  “Very gracious of you,” he conceded.

  “Seamus?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “How long were you standing there after Cole took me from the dance?”

  “I ran after you the moment Cavenray returned without you. I still cannot believe it.”

  “How could he have known? Cole had that way of forcing you to do things that were impolite.”

  “I am glad your father suspected, or the outcome could have been very different.”

  “Do you think the things Cole said about Father and Beaujolais were true? My heart does not want to believe them, but Lillian was my mother.”

  “I do not think everything happened the way he portrayed it. He would have said anything to gain your compliance.”

  “True. Yet I cannot believe Beaujolais was the one to kill my mother.”

  “I think you need to ask your father and Beaujolais what happened. It will be painful, but they will not withhold the truth from you. It is best you know the entire story.”

  “It is difficult to think ill of them when they have been so gracious about me, but it is too untenable to know it was her.”

  “It is hard to see the truth in those we love sometimes. You will have to find it in your heart to forgive her, though it will take some time.”

  “Seamus, Mr. Cole wanted me to be…”

  “Hush. Do not say it. It is time to put that behind us and look to the future.”

  She nodded as their eyes met and then their lips.

  “Please promise me something,” she said pulling back just enough to look him in the eye again.

  “Anything, my love.” Their heads were touching and their fingers were interlaced.

  “No more risking your life. Twice in two days is more than anyone should be required to watch.”


  “I cannot promise. I would do it again in a heartbeat. When I saw him put the knife to your throat, I knew life would not be worth living without you in it.”

  “You must not say such things, though I feel as you do. The pain would be almost unbearable, but life is always worth living.”

  “You can die of a broken heart, you know,” he retorted.

  “But you must not. There is too much good in this world for us to pine over what we cannot change.”

  “I know you are right, but you are thwarting my best efforts to profess my undying love for you.”

  “I must be losing my French if I did not realize you were being romantic,” she said dryly.

  “Hush, my love,” he commanded. He narrowed his eyes.

  His fingers gently followed the lines of her chin and moved the stray curl behind her ear before tracing the outline of her lips. Seamus leaned forward and gently brushed her lips with his. He leaned back again and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, her face still tilted up for his kiss. Groaning, he leaned in and kissed her again, harder, tasting the sweetness that was everything about his love. It ignited him and he edged closer.

  Moving up, he nuzzled behind her ear and slowly worked towards her mouth once more, at first gently and then with more deliberation.

  He wanted to tell her how he felt but could not say the words. With his kiss, he tried to say what he had not allowed himself to utter.

  Her hands reached behind his neck...tentatively at first. Christelle ran her hands through the back of his hair. Reacting, she moved closer. Seamus pulled away. “Three weeks may be the death of me.”

  Chapter 24

  Christelle was nervous as the familiar bell jingled on the door. She had asked her maid to wait outside.

  “Lady Christelle!” Madame Monique called out and walked over to greet her with her arms extended.

  Christelle smiled and greeted Madame with a kiss on each cheek. It was very good to see her.

  “I have come to see if you may make this wedding gown rather quickly. She held out a sketch of a dress that she had been dreaming of for years. She had never thought the day would come.