All He Desires

by Anthea Lawson

  Caroline took a few experimental steps, skirts hushing and elegant about her. She turned to the seamstress and performed her best court curtsey. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Miss Goodey.”

  The woman brought her hand to her mouth, covering her smile, and dipped a curtsey in return.

  Caroline swirled the skirts around her. The gown was truly exquisite. She fetched up before Alex’s mother and caught her hands. “I must thank you, Mrs. Trentham. For everything.”

  “My dear. I have always wanted a daughter, and I am so pleased….” Her eyes were bright with emotion. “I am so pleased to welcome you into the family. You must call me Gertrude. Or mother, if you would like.”

  Now Caroline felt her own eyes fill. She sniffed. “I mustn’t get tear stains on my dress.”

  “Here, miss.” Annie held out a handkerchief, which Caroline accepted gratefully.

  “Mother? Are you there?” Alex’s voice from the hall, his footsteps coming closer. “I need to ask you something.”

  Mrs. Trentham and Caroline shared one startled glance, then both rushed to the door and slammed it shut. Just in time, too, if Alex’s confused exclamation was any indication. He pounded, and Caroline leaned against the door while Gertrude turned the lock.

  They looked at each other again and broke into laughter.

  “What the dev—er, what is going on in there?” Alex’s voice sounded through the door. “Is everything all right? Caro?”

  “Yes,” she called back. “Everything is just fine.”

  “Alex!” His mother’s voice was stern, but mirth spoiled the effect. “The groom is not supposed to see the bride on the wedding day!”

  “Well then, how am I supposed to marry her?” He sounded aggrieved.

  “I meant, not until you are at the church. Now give me a moment. I will meet you in the parlor.” She turned to Caroline. “I’ll have breakfast and a bath sent up, and we shall spend the rest of the morning making you the most beautiful bride in all of England.”

  “In all the world, I’d think,” Annie said, nodding vigorously.

  After that the day accelerated at an alarming pace. Gertrude and Annie spent the next two hours devoted to Caroline’s toilette. She was bathed in warm water, given a variety of perfumes from which to choose—she settled on lavender with a hint of gardenia—her hair was combed and curled, and then she was dressed in the lovely gown.

  At last they let her look in the mirror, and she caught her breath. It was said that any bride on her wedding day was transformed, but she could not quite believe the woman looking back at her. Her honey-brown hair was caught up in a chaplet of rosebuds, the pale pink matching her gown, and her cheeks were flushed with pleasure and anticipation. She was beautiful—and today she wanted, more than anything, for Alex to see her like this. Beautiful.

  “Oh, you are a vision.” Gertrude tilted her head to one side, considering. “Perfect, except for jewelry. A necklace, hmm…let me go and see what I have.”

  She returned carrying a velvet box. “I was thinking…. Do you like this?” She held up a double strand of pearls interspersed with pink tourmalines, the brighter gems sparkling between the rich satin of the pearls.

  Caroline drew in her breath. “It’s beautiful.” She took the necklace, the smooth pearls warming under her fingers. The colors matched her gown to perfection.

  Gertrude smiled. “It was a gift to me from Alex’s father. I would like you to have it as the first of your wedding gifts.” She gently fastened it about Caroline’s neck.

  “I…” Caroline lifted her hand to a throat suddenly tight with tears. She turned to embrace Alex’s mother. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “The thanks are yours, my dear. Without you I would not have my son again.” Her voice was filled with soft conviction. “You brought him back. You were the light he followed home.”

  The carriage bore them over the country lanes. Caroline rubbed her thumb across the band of her ring, over and over, though it felt comfortable now after a week of constant wear. Bound for her wedding, with a light and a heavy heart. She missed her uncle, her brother, Pen. But it was no use wishing, and they were all miles away. Somehow she would make it up to them. She glanced out at the flower-bright meadows. Perhaps later in the summer she would ask her uncle to host a garden party and they could all celebrate together.

  She released her breath, let the regrets fall away. For now, it was enough to be joined with Alex. More than enough—it was remarkable in the very best way.

  The track wound up past the village and soon she glimpsed the silver stone walls of the chapel. It was modest, no huge Gothic steeples or medallions of stained glass, but graceful in its own proportions, the single bell set above the doorway pealing out merrily. Arched windows ran the sides of the building, and inside Caroline knew it was light and airy and filled with peace. She smoothed her skirts once more and caught Gertrude’s empathetic smile.

  A crowd had gathered outside the front door, eagerly awaiting their arrival. As the carriage slowed she recognized Annie and the other servants, quiet Miss Goodey, friends of the Trentham family. Certainly there were many well-wishers from the village and surrounding estates who had come to see the return of the county’s most prominent prodigal son.

  And then she glimpsed a familiar face, then another. Caroline blinked—surely she was only wishing, hoping to see them…. But no, they were there. Her family.

  With a glad cry, she threw open the door and leapt out of the carriage into the arms of Uncle Denby.

  “Uncle! You are here!”

  He held her tightly a moment, then set her back and gave her an intent look. “My dear, of course we came. But is this indeed your will—to marry Alex Trentham?”

  “Oh, yes. Willingly, with all my heart.”

  He nodded. “I have never had reason to doubt your judgment or good intent before, and I shall not begin now. If this is what you truly want, then you have my blessing, Caroline.”

  “Are you going to monopolize my sister all day?” James stepped forward and embraced her. “Caro, we couldn’t miss your wedding.”

  “But where is Lily? Is she well?” She craned but could not find James’s wife in the happy throng.

  He smiled, a look of sheer joy and relief crossing his face. “She is at Somergate—with our new son. They are both well.”

  “Oh, James!” She squeezed his shoulders. “You look happier than I have ever seen you. Although a bit tired.”

  “Yes,” Pen pushed forward, her grin lighting her face. “That’s Alex’s fault. The letter telling us to come barely arrived in time. Lord Denby sent for your brother—and here we are!” She linked arms with Caroline. “But don’t you look beautiful! Wherever did you get that dress?”

  “I can hardly believe you are all here.” Caroline blinked, still not convinced she was not dreaming it. “When did you arrive?”

  “Yesterday evening,” Pen said. “The gentlemen stayed at the inn in Ravensbridge, and I with a friend of Alex’s mother. We saw Alex and his mother last night, too. The idea of marrying you has quite transformed him.”

  “The wretch—he said they were going to procure the license.”

  “And so he was,” her uncle said. “License from your family.”

  James cocked an eyebrow at her. “Really, Caro, did you think we would let you marry a Yorkshire man sight unseen? Even if his mother turned out to be the younger sister of the Marquess of Edgerton.”

  “So you do know Mrs. Trentham.” Caroline turned to her uncle.

  He gave a dry smile. “Yes. Although our relationship consisted primarily of her stuffing turf down the neck of my jacket when she was seven. She thought it quite amusing at the time.” He set his hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “James and I both found your Alex to be a satisfactory gentleman, sincere in his intentions and affection for you.”

  “Oh, it’s good you didn’t meet him months ago,” Pen said. “He was quite dreadful then.” They all laughed.

  “In truth,
” James said, “Miss Briggs has proved herself a formidable advocate on his behalf. But look, the crowd is clearing. It must be nearly time.”

  “Here, Caro.” Pen held out her hand, a silver sixpence glinting in her palm. “Good luck and joy for all your days. I know it’s more a country tradition, but…” She tilted her head. “It goes in the left shoe.”

  “Allow me.” Uncle Denby took the coin.

  Holding to his arm, Caroline slipped off her shoe and, balancing on one foot, held it out. He tucked the shilling into the lining by the heel, and she re-placed her shoe. “Quite comfortable.”

  James offered his arm to Pen. “I will escort Miss Briggs to our seats and await your grand entrance.”

  “My dear.” Her uncle cleared his throat. “Are you entirely sure about withdrawing the petition for the adoption? I would not want you to feel—”

  “Uncle.” She took his hands in her own. “You’ve always been the family of my heart, and I could have asked for no better. But I will have Alex now, family of my own. I don’t need a piece of paper to know you love me.”

  “I do indeed. Are you ready, then, to be escorted down the aisle by the father of your heart?” His eyes held a suspicious brightness.

  She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Yes. I am ready.”

  The chapel stilled as she stepped inside, one hand on her uncle’s arm, the other holding her bridal bouquet of pink roses twined with ivy. Light streamed in through the windows, and at the head of the nave was Alex. His dark blue eyes were serious and he looked almost forbidding in his formal dark clothes. For a moment she recalled him on that first night on Crete, when he stood in the doorway black as a thundercloud.

  Now he saw her and smiled, and was transformed.

  The look in his eyes, the way his gaze followed her as she made her way down the aisle—it was as if they were the only two people in the room. Her heart ached with joy. Joy that took wing even as she released her uncle’s arm. She stepped forward, taking her place beside Alex. The long journey was over. She smiled up at him and was rewarded with a deepening warmth in his expression, the love so clear in his eyes that she caught her breath.

  They clasped hands as the vicar spoke of return and redemption, and when she said the words I will, no words had ever felt more true. His in return sent a thrill of pure belonging through her.

  The ceremony passed in a happy rush until the vicar gave them a final benediction, and the chapel bell began to ring again, the church organ sounding out glorious music. Alex swept her into his embrace and kissed her, their lips together sealing the promises they had just made.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  Then they were down the aisle, catching quick glimpses of Alex’s mother weeping happily into her kerchief, James’s approving nod, and Pen grinning with glee. They paused to sign the registry, her hand surprisingly steady, and then forward into the perfect June day.

  The guests followed them out of the church. Amid the hubbub of congratulations, she pressed one rose into Pen’s palm, another into Mrs. Trentham’s. Then her husband—her husband!—handed her up into the carriage and slid in beside her.

  He nodded to the driver to set off, back to the house for the wedding breakfast, and amid good-natured cheering he once again lowered his mouth to hers.

  There are kisses, and then there are kisses. This one reverberated with the peal of happiness chiming through her, his name ringing in all the spaces of her body as he pulled her close. Lip to lip, sharing the same breath, the same heartbeat. The same wild coursing of love through them. Despite—or perhaps because of—all they had gone through together.

  She was breathless when at last he let her go.

  “So, wife, are you glad?” His voice held an undertone of joy she had never heard before.

  “I am beyond gladness.”

  “Gladder than that day when two lost souls emerged from the Cave of Zeus into the light?”

  “Even that. Because that joy was shadowed with an ending, where this one…” She put her hand to his cheek, studying those beloved features. “This one is made brighter still by a beginning.”

  Chapter 29

  Caroline lay on her side and watched her husband reading the Times in bed next to her. It had taken no getting used to at all, sharing a bedchamber with Alex, though for the past week they had been frightfully indolent.

  It was not that they were waking late, it was just that, finding themselves in bed together, well…one thing led to the next. She smiled privately. Sometimes it was a wonder they made it downstairs before noon.

  She set her hand on Alex’s chest—his naked chest, the muscles of his arms admirably displayed. Her glance strayed down to the sheet. She could say with authority that his lower half was as unclothed as his upper. Unlike her, he had soon stopped wearing nightclothes to bed, arguing that since they seemed to have a problem staying on he may as well dispense with them altogether.

  He glanced at her, something serious in his eyes. “Your uncle’s announcement is in the notices.”

  “Let me see.” She curled closer to him and he tilted the paper so she could read:

  At the request of Mrs. Alex Trentham, née Miss Caroline Huntington, the petition for adoption by Lord Charles Denby Huntington, Earl of Twickenham, shall void ab initio.

  “Does it make you sad?” He settled his arm around her.

  “No. It’s only the adoption that’s been canceled, not my uncle’s affection. Besides, this means Mr. Simms will have no reason for additional attempts on my life.”

  Alex’s mouth hardened. “Attempts or no, if I ever see him again, so help me…”

  She dropped a kiss on his collarbone. “It will be good to move freely again, to return to London. To our new home.”

  Alex had made inquiries and they had taken a house in Bel-grave Square. It should have come as no surprise to her that he was in possession of a decent fortune—after all, his family clearly had wealth.

  But most surprising of all had been his mother’s contribution.

  Pen had stayed on at Raven Hall with them, and she and Gertrude had taken to one another as kindred spirits, despite the decades separating them. The girl had quickly involved Alex’s mother in all the particulars of Caroline’s project—including the financial complications facing the dispensary.

  One evening at dinner Alex’s mother had made the announcement. She would like to become the Twickenham School’s benefactor. She would notify her solicitor, if Caroline and Alex agreed.

  Agreed? Caroline had flown up out of her chair and embraced Gertrude right there, at the dinner table, the soup course forgotten. And she had to admit, she was delighted to be free of the Ladies’ Auxiliary Board and their fountain-filled schemes.

  Alex folded the paper and set it aside. “Back to London, yes. How soon would you like to leave Raven Hall?”

  Never. Immediately. Caroline shook her head at her own conflicted reaction. “Part of me would love to stay here forever—while the other part is anxious to return.” She let out a soft breath. “I worry I have been away from the school too long, especially as things have been so unsettled.”

  He smiled at her, and again she thought how very handsome he was, the sun glossing his dark hair, his eyes reflecting a hard-won serenity. Very handsome. She smoothed her hand over his chest, warmth kindling through her again.

  “Then we shall leave the day after tomorrow,” he said. “That should give us time to pack.”

  She nodded. “Not that I have a great deal in my own possession. I suppose you have things you’d like to bring from Raven Hall.” Though she couldn’t imagine him filling trunks with childhood mementos. Not after seeing the unadorned simplicity of his cottage in Crete.

  His smile turned mysterious. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

  If they were going to be leaving soon, she had best take advantage of the time they had left. She gave him a wicked grin. “Mm. I think you have some arrangements to make with your wife right now.” She slipped
her leg against his beneath the covers, then laughed out loud as he rolled her into his arms.

  The day of their departure was overcast, which was all to the good. Another perfect, sun-drenched day would have made leaving Yorkshire too much like abandoning paradise.

  At breakfast—attended at the true hour this time—Alex’s mother had been hard put not to break into weeping. She kept dabbing her eyes with her kerchief and reaching to clasp her son’s hand.

  “Mother, you know you are welcome to come with us. There is more than enough room in the house and we would be happy to have you and Lucy there.”

  Caroline nodded. “You are easy company, Gertrude, and we’re not best pleased at the thought of leaving you alone here.”

  “It is exceedingly kind of you both, but you need time to establish your household. I will visit, of course. I need to see your school and finalize arrangements with my solicitor.”

  “You must come soon,” Caroline said, “and we will take you about London.”

  “Oh, yes.” Pen nodded. “There is a milliner’s shop that has the most splendid dresses.”

  “And in addition to the school I would also like to see the—”

  “Don’t spoil the surprise, Mother,” Alex said. He took a last gulp of tea, then stood. “I’m going to check on the luggage. Come out as soon as you’re ready.”

  Caroline finished her toast and again assured Mrs. Trentham of a warm welcome any time she chose to visit. “And I’ve no doubt we’ll come back to Raven Hall as often as we can. I’ve come to love Yorkshire—and not only because I married your son here.”

  Gertrude smiled at that and the two of them, followed by Pen, proceeded to the front doors. Caroline stepped outside, blinked at what she was seeing, then blinked again.

  There was the coach to take them to London, but behind it were two wagons, heavily loaded and covered with thick canvas.

  “What is this?” She looked from the wagons to Alex.