The Sweet and Spicy Regency Collection

by Dorothy McFalls

  “The gel is by no means a diamond of the first water. But,” his mother sighed deeply. “I suppose if the duke embraces her as family . . . then, with a little polish, she might just be able to be brought up to crack.”

  May was perfect. He wouldn’t wish her to change at all. She had taught him an important lesson with her fey spirit. She’d taught him to live. It was a piece of her he’d cherish in his heart for the rest of his days.

  Chapter 22

  The carriage swayed gently as a warm breeze blew through the open windows. The early-autumn sun was shining brightly on the City of Bath. It had been a month since she’d seen the gothic spires of Bath Abbey or enjoyed the calm flowing of the River Avon. May could hardly believe how fast the time had passed.

  She wouldn’t be coming now if not for the urgent letters she’d received from both Iona and Aunt Winnie urging her return. Iona’s sister and husband had been most supportive, insisting she leave right away and giving her use of their carriage.

  She clutched both letters and worried. Neither letter provided a drop of important information beyond stressing a need for her presence. What if Winnie had fallen ill again? What if the playful Iona had somehow gotten herself embroiled in a scandal? May prayed that the emergency was not too great that she couldn’t handle it.

  She also prayed that Radford would not be in residence this late in the season . . . while wishing with all her heart she could see him again.

  For several days she lived her life in London on pins as she half expected him to come after her. When running an errand or strolling the streets, she had always watched for him. Hoping, dreaming, fancying she’d catch a glimpse of him in a crowd, but always finding she was mistaken. Those dreams had faded into pleasant memories. She enjoyed teaching the young children in her charge and believed herself moving on with her life.

  Now, upon returning to Bath, May realized she’d not moved on at all. It felt like only yesterday she’d told Radford to leave her alone. Nothing in her life had moved forward. Her running to London had solved nothing.

  It had been easier to hide than risk chasing a happiness she might not be able to keep. But no more could she let such foolishness continue. May realized she’d have face her unresolved feelings for Radford and put them to rest so she could truly begin a new life.

  “I just pray Aunt Winnie and Iona are both well. I will need all the help they can offer with this one.”

  “I beg your pardon?” a man asked from outside the carriage.

  May blinked. She hadn’t noticed that a finely dressed gentleman on horseback had been passing her carriage at the same moment she carelessly spoke her thoughts aloud.

  Such a lovely horse he was riding too. A light cream-colored mare with a dark mane and tail . . . and brown speckles on her rear flank. She looked exactly like—

  May blinked again.

  “Lord Evers?” she asked, praying her wishful eyes weren’t once again deceiving her.

  The man slowed his horse to match the pace of the carriage. He turned to look at her. His eyes sparkled as recognition lit them from within.

  “May?” He drew a quick breath and seemed to quickly regain his composure. “Miss Sheffers, what a delightful surprise. What brings you to Bath? I hope you are well.”

  May simply stared at Radford, unable to trust her eyes or her ears. Certainly Radford wasn’t really here, riding beside her carriage. She had to be dreaming again. But this couldn’t be a dream . . . she was far too worried over the reasons she’d been summoned to Bath so urgently and over her aunt Winnie’s health for this to be a pleasant dream.

  She rapped on the roof of the carriage and called for the driver to stop. As soon as the wheels ceased turning, Radford awkwardly lowered himself from Princess’ saddle and swung open the carriage door. He reached inside and lifted her to the ground.

  His arms lingered around her waist even though her feet had touched solid ground. Her hands lingered on his shoulders as well, she noticed with a start.

  “I cannot tarry long,” she said as she hurriedly pulled away from him. There was no reason to get herself worked up over a dream she’d already refused to chase. “Lady Iona Newbury and Aunt Winnie have both written me, begging I come to Bath as quickly as possible.” Her hands shook as she showed him the letters she’d crinkled beyond repair. “I fear Winnie’s health has taken a turn for the worse.”

  Talking about her concerns helped vanquish the frivolous butterflies flittering in her stomach and the shortness of breath she suddenly experienced from standing so close to him again.

  He smoothed his thumb over her furrowed brow. “I spoke with both your aunt and Lady Iona at the Pump Room just this morning, Miss Sheffers. Let me assure you, they both appeared to be in high spirits.”

  May felt her frown deepen. “They were?” Why then would they write with such urgency? At least there was no dire disaster awaiting her. She took comfort in having learned that much.

  “They were walking arm in arm chatting merrily and charming everyone in the crowded room.” Radford smiled. His cheeks had the most adorable dimples. He took her chin and tilted her head up so she was staring directly into his eyes. “You are as lovely as ever.” His voice grew soft. Obliviously he didn’t notice her wrinkled and dusty carriage dress, her drooping bonnet, or the unmistakable exhaustion etched beneath her eyes. “I’ve sorely missed that impish expression of yours.”

  He did? “You did?” Her heart raced as hope flooded her chest. Before he could answer, she rushed to change the subject.

  “You are riding again. I’m so very glad you’ve proven your doctors wrong. Not that I’m surprised, mind you. I knew you would.”

  Radford’s smile remained as brilliant as the sun as he continued to focus on her and nothing else. “I’m able to ride for short distances,” he said somewhat absently. “Ever since I stopped pushing myself so hard—thanks to your scolding—my leg started to grow stronger. No great changes, mind you. It’s a slow process.”

  His thumb continued to caress her cheek. He inched closer. May felt her face heat as she realized how shocking their behavior must look to the carriage driver and to anyone who might pass by. She ducked her head away from his magical touch.

  “You look healthy and content. I’m happy,” she said in place of a dismissal and turned to climb back into the carriage. She let him lift her since no steps had been lowered.

  “Right now I’m better than content,” he confessed. “I’m tremendously happy.” That determined focus of his nearly tripped her as she nervously settled on the carriage’s narrow bench. “If you are agreeable, I would like to call on you tomorrow afternoon. There is much I would like to explain . . . and to apologize for.”

  May gave a brisk nod just as the carriage lurched forward and began to roll down the road.

  Yes, yes, yes, she could barely refrain from shouting. She would dearly love for Radford to call on her. His leg was stronger and yet his expression still softened when he’d first set eyes her. Perhaps his affections for her did go beyond his need for her troubled situation to give his injured pride a sense of worth. Her spirit soared. It had been far too long since she’d allowed herself to feel so recklessly special.

  Certainly such a rare happiness was worth the risk she’d just placed on her barely healed heart.

  * * * *

  No one would tell her anything. Iona would stare at May with a funny grin but kept her lips tightly sealed when pressed for answers. That evening, Aunt Winnie had come to the Newbury’s townhouse for dinner and, like Iona, would only smile when asked about the vague but urgent letters.

  “Tomorrow,” was the most anyone would say.

  Tomorrow.

  May sat in the Newbury’s welcoming, sage-colored parlor the next afternoon and fidgeted. Radford was due to appear any moment. This waiting felt only too familiar. A sick feeling turned in her stomach.

  What if he didn’t come?

  She’d donned the same deep violet gown fashioned from th
e sheerest muslins that she’d worn a month ago as she’d waited nervously in this very same parlor for his visit. Iona had helped her to tame her ruddy-brown curls and pile them on the top of her head.

  As she spied her reflection in the window, she thought she looked surprisingly elegant. Last summer had changed her. She’d grown even more confident, more comfortable with herself. Unlike before, the gown’s stunning color didn’t discomfit her. Gone was the shy creature who had felt a need to hide behind the curtains.

  She was who she was. Nothing was going to change that. Radford had taught her she had no need to feel ashamed. She straightened a book sitting on a small, elaborately carved rosewood table and glanced out the window again. Hopefully he would keep his word and arrive on time. She so wanted to thank him for this new confidence she enjoyed.

  “May?” Iona stood at the threshold of the parlor, nervously twisting her hands.

  “He’s not coming, is he?” May said, feeling suddenly tired.

  “What?” Iona’s hands moved all the more nervously. “Oh, I don’t know. There are some people in Papa’s study waiting to see you.”

  “Who?” May crossed the room to follow Iona to the study. Iona grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug. Tears dampened May’s shoulder. “What is wrong, Iona? You are scaring me.”

  “Nothing.” Iona dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and tried to smile. “I’m just happy, is all.”

  May imagined she understood the apprehension men felt when being led to the gallows. Her heart thundered erratically. She knew Iona. Those nervous tears were not born from simple happiness. Something earth-shatteringly big was awaiting May in the study . . . and Iona was terrified for her.

  May straightened her spine, drew a deep breath, and opened the door leading to the duke’s oak paneled study.

  Three faintly familiar, darkly tanned figures beamed smiles in greeting. They were clearly a family. The gentleman stood with his arm lovingly around the lady’s waist. A much young man with black unruly hair tugged at his boots as if they were paining him.

  “May, darling? Winnie hadn’t lied. You have grown into a beautiful woman,” the gentleman said.

  “May, my sweet May,” the lady wailed. “We’ve come home to stay.”

  The voice rang like a whisper in a dream. May covered her mouth while staring, unable to believe.

  “I think she’s in shock,” the duke said.

  Someone began patting her hand vigorously. May looked and saw it was Iona.

  “Who are you?” May whispered the question from behind her hand. She didn’t know why she asked such a foolish question when she already knew the answer.

  Despite the gray streaks in their hair and the deep bronze hue of their skin, they were the very image of the tiny portraits she’d always worn in her locket.

  “Who are you?” she shouted when her gaze latched on to the young man. He couldn’t be much older than fifteen or sixteen. His face was a tanner, masculine version of her own.

  He swaggered up to her and gave an awkward bow. “I am your brother, Perseus.”

  “Brother?” May was amazed at how calm her voice sounded. “It is a pleasure to make you acquaintance, Mr. Sheffers.”

  “Oh dear,” said her mother, who suddenly felt more like a stranger to May than this boy calling himself her brother. “You’re angry.”

  Angry was a blasted understatement. Her parents had a son. They’d traveled the world while heaping their love on this boy. She hadn’t been good enough to keep by their side. They’d left her behind, let her fear they were dead.

  Let them go back to their exotic, far off lands and love their son. She’d been happier without them in her life, anyhow.

  “May?” Iona whispered. “Lord Evers has arrived.”

  As if sensing May’s need for support, Radford placed his hand protectively on the small of her back. “You look stunning,” he murmured in her ear.

  May tore her gaze from her parents and slowly turned toward Radford. He was dressed in his finest black suit. His beaver hat gleamed as it sat at an angle on the top of his head. His cane was tucked underneath his arm so he could hold the largest bouquet of wildflowers May had ever seen.

  “Would you care to introduce me?” he asked with a nod toward her parents.

  “Viscount Evers, I am pleased to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord Sheffers . . . my parents.”

  Oh God, her parents were finally home, and she felt absolutely unloved and miserable. This was not at all how she imagined their homecoming.

  Hands and arms were smothering her as her mother and then her father embraced her, crying as earnestly as she wished she could. Her eyes remained curiously dry throughout the emotional ordeal.

  “I suppose we should explain,” her father said after the duke had ushered them all into the upstairs drawing room where tea had been served.

  Radford had directed May to sit on a small sofa. He set the flowers on a sideboard and sat beside her with his hand protectively holding hers. She let him feed her strength while she steeled herself for whatever her parents had to say.

  “We wrote,” her father said. “We wrote letter after letter explaining our delayed absence. I’d send the letters to a small fishing village in Brazil along with the specimens I’d collected. Only recently did I learn that neither the letters nor the specimens ever found their way to the trading ships in the Caribbean. A man we trusted took payment for this service and threw away our packages. When I confronted him, he tried to kill us and steal what little money we had left. We escaped only to lose our way in the jungle. Years passed before we happened upon a captain of a ship willing to carry us home.”

  May heard the very logical explanation and accepted it as true. Still, she felt miserable. If not for Radford’s steadying presence, she was convinced she’d have stormed from the room like a spoiled child.

  “When I heard how Sires had treated you . . . ” her mother said. “I cannot tell you how his behavior angers me. I am so sorry we weren’t here to protect you. To give you a better life.”

  “I am content,” May said softly.

  Her father’s gaze narrowed. He looked at Radford as if seeing him for the first time. “Viscount Evers,” he said, a lilt of raw emotion alive in his tone. “What interest do you have in my daughter? I am not sure it is at all appropriate for you to sit there and cradle her hand like that.”

  Radford’s protective hold remained firm. “I disagree.”

  May’s father, a tall man who appeared as fit as a man many years his junior, peeled off his gloves. “I don’t give a fig if you disagree or not. She is my daughter and I will protect her.”

  The dam broke. May charged across the room and tossed herself into her father’s arms just as she had when she was four years old and begging him not to leave.

  “All these years I feared you didn’t love me,” she cried. “I feared I wasn’t good enough and that’s why you didn’t take me with you.”

  “Oh dear God, May.” Her father held her tightly in his arms. “We have always loved you. Leaving you was the hardest thing we ever did. I fought against it, but Sires and Winnie convinced us that it would be wrong to endanger you by bringing you along. You deserved a better life than the one a wandering scientist such as I could give. You deserved to be raised as a lady.” He set her down and looked her square in the eye. “Never has my love for you wavered. You are my dearest, sweetest little Mayflower.”

  Those were the words May had somehow forgotten but desperately needed to hear. The day her parents set sail, her father had made her promise to always remember that she was his dearest, sweetest little Mayflower . . . to remember that she would always be loved.

  “I remember now, Papa,” she said as she wiped away a sheen of tears. “I remember you telling me that no matter what happens, this forever kind of love is always worth the risk.” She kissed his cheek and stepped back. Her gaze met Radford’s. “Please excuse me a moment. I need to speak with the viscount in private. It is truly some
thing that shouldn’t wait.”

  Radford stammered and blushed as she led him out the room, down the stairs, and out into the Newbury’s meticulously groomed flower garden. A heavy perfume traveled on the gentle autumn breeze and tickled her nose. May was about to comment on the scent when Radford pressed a finger against her lips.

  “I need to explain something to you. And no, it cannot wait for you to go first,” he said. “I was a fool. I was so wrapped up in pride and fear I made unreasonable demands on what I wanted and ended up pushing you away. I would have chased after you immediately, but the duke asked me to wait and give you time.”

  He ducked his head and stole a quick kiss. That brief brush of their lips sent May’s beautifully practiced speech flying.

  “May, you are very important to me. I would like to court you properly. I will go to your father and beg his permission, if need be. I don’t want this to be a burden to you, what with your parents’ sudden return, but I have to speak my mind.”

  He took a step back and sucked in a deep breath. “Miss Margaret Sheffers, I am utterly, completely, and hopelessly in love with you. You are the only woman I would even consider asking to be my wife.”

  “Oh, Radford,” May said with a sigh, “I brought you out here to tell you the very same thing. I shouldn’t have let fear and pride keep me from telling you the truth about my feelings. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I love you, too.” A great warmth filled her as she spoke the words she’d held hidden for far too long. “How quickly can we get married? We’ve wasted enough time already; I certainly don’t have the patience to wait any longer.”

  “Nor do I, sweeting,” he said with a shout of joy. “If we could manage it, I’d say let’s get married today.”

  Epilogue

  The wedding didn’t happen right away. Both Radford’s mother and May’s parents demanded the wedding be a grand affair. Six agonizing months passed before they finally were able to say their vows. Radford penned long, romantic letters to May and sent enough flowers to fill several rooms. May wrote him equally romantic letters and embroidered all sorts of handkerchiefs, nightshirts, and linens with his initials and figures of dancing horses.