A Lady Never Surrenders

by Sabrina Jeffries

  He covered her hand, holding it there. “We’ll be along shortly. You three go on and let Mrs. Plumtree know we’re well. After I arrange some matters here, Celia and my aunt and I will be right behind you. I can tell you everything then.”

  The brothers exchanged speculative glances, but didn’t question his right to take care of her.

  Thank God. Because now that he had her back, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight for a very long time.

  AS THEY APPROACHED Halstead Hall two hours later, Celia got choked up. She’d thought she might never see it again.

  Jackson took her hand. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m just so glad to be here.” She gazed up at him. “With you.”

  His aunt pretended to be staring out the window, but Celia could still see her smile to herself.

  Celia liked Ada Norris. She was the only person Celia had ever seen, besides herself, who could get away with teasing Jackson.

  Certainly his men would never attempt it. Celia had watched with growing admiration earlier as Jackson had expertly taken charge of the scene after her brothers left. The other Runners followed his orders without question. They rounded up Rawdon’s Portuguese servants and Mrs. Rawdon’s henchman. They gathered evidence to use against the captain, assuming he lived to be tried for Celia’s kidnapping and his part in covering up the deaths of her parents.

  And when they took Jackson’s report about the shootings, they handled it carefully, allowing him to keep her out of it as much as possible, undoubtedly because of her status. Even after the Chief Magistrate arrived, Jackson’s word that he would bring her to the Bow Street offices in a few days so she could answer questions was all that was required to have them finally allowed to leave the place with Celia and his aunt.

  Now his carriage pulled up in front of Halstead Hall. Every member of her family was out in front to greet them, and as soon as Celia stepped down, chaos ensued. They were all laughing and crying and talking and hugging at once. Jackson stood back with his aunt, as if he understood that her family needed their own reassurances that she was fine.

  Then Gran hushed them all. “I have something to tell you, Celia,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. “From now on, your life is your own. If you want to marry, fine. If you do not want to marry, that is fine, too. Either way, you and your brothers and sister will all inherit.” She cast an apologetic glance in Jackson’s direction. “Mr. Pinter made it quite plain this morning that today’s disaster would never have happened if not for my arrogant ultimatum.”

  Jackson winced. “About that, Mrs. Plumtree—”

  “You were right, Mr. Pinter.” She glanced around at her family as General Waverly came to stand beside her. “And you were not the only one who pointed out how wrongheaded I was. Isaac and Minerva tried to show me the error of my ways, too, as did all of you at one time. But until this morning, I was too stubborn to listen.”

  With a wan smile, she took the general’s arm. “I told myself that I knew no other way to push you children past this hard part of your lives. But I see now that it was not my place to push you at all.”

  “Perhaps not, but we’re glad you did,” Oliver put in. “If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have found out the truth about Mother’s and Father’s deaths.” He looped his arm around Maria’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t have found our wonderful spouses.”

  “All the same,” she said, “though it is too late to rescind my ultimatum for the rest of you, I can make amends by doing it for Celia.” She stepped forward to kiss Celia’s cheek and gaze tenderly into her face. “And one more thing, my dear. I never for one moment thought you incapable of finding a husband. Because any man would be a fool not to want to marry you.”

  The words healed the last of the hurt Celia had felt ever since Gran had laid down her demand. “Thank you, Gran,” she whispered as she hugged her.

  Then Jackson moved forward to stand before Celia. “Your grandmother is right.” He dropped to one knee and took her hand. “My dear wonderful love,” he said as he stared up into her face, “I realize I’m not allowing you time to enjoy your newfound freedom, but I can’t help it. I’m a selfish man, and I can’t take the chance of losing you again.”

  She beamed down at him, her heart in her throat.

  He kissed her hand. “I don’t care about your shooting, and I don’t care about your fortune, and I don’t care if we live in a hovel for the rest of our lives. As long as we’re together, I’ll be content. Because I love you, and I can’t live without you. And I’d be honored beyond words if you’d consent to be my wife.”

  After everything she’d been through the past few days, she burst into tears. When alarm showed on his face, she squeezed his hands and fought to regain control enough to choke out, “Yes, Jackson, yes. With all my heart, yes!”

  Love shining in his face, he rose and kissed her amid a mix of wild cheers and laughter.

  When he drew back, Gabe cried, “That’s a much better kiss than the one you gave her when you won the shooting match!”

  “And a much better proposal of marriage than the one you gave her yesterday morning!” Minerva chimed in.

  “Leave him be!” Celia chided as Jackson went red about the ears. “He saved my life twice, figured out who killed Mama and Papa, and taught Gran some humility. We can’t all be good at everything, you know.”

  Amid the laughter, he kissed her again, but her family didn’t let that go on for long. It was cold outside, after all. Gran herded them inside to the great hall, where the servants had brought out refreshments. There, everyone had to take turns congratulating them and clamoring for all the usual details of how it had started and when it had become true love.

  Once their curiosity was satisfied and they’d met Jackson’s aunt, he and Celia took turns telling them what had really happened to Mama and Papa.

  When they finished, Oliver said into the stillness, “So Father tried to save Mother?”

  Celia nodded. “He stepped between Mrs. Rawdon and Mama. He gave his life for her.”

  “Then perhaps they did love each other a little, even at the end,” Minerva ventured.

  “I like to think it was more than just a little,” Celia said. “That morning when I overheard them in the nursery, she seemed very uneasy with the captain. So I prefer to think that she persisted in going to the hunting lodge because she wanted to break things off with the captain in person. And I prefer to think that Papa went there to try to win her back.”

  She gazed at the family she loved so very dearly. “We can never know the truth of what was in their hearts. So what does it hurt to trust in a dream that could be just as true as the nightmare we’ve believed all these years?”

  There was a long silence. Then Jarret said, “Hear, hear, sis. I’ll drink to that.” Slipping his arm around Annabel’s waist, he raised a glass. “To Mother and Father and the love that might have been.”

  Everyone joined in the toast.

  Much later, when the family had settled down into smaller groups and Jackson’s aunt was having a long, involved chat with Gran, he drew Celia aside.

  “There’s one thing I’m curious about,” he said. “Right before the doctor arrived this afternoon, Rawdon whispered something to you. What was it?”

  Celia slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. “He said that when Mrs. Rawdon fired, she missed his heart because she loved him too deeply to go through with killing him.”

  “Do you believe that?” he asked, looking skeptical.

  “No. I believe she might have missed him on purpose, but what she felt was obsession and jealousy, not love.”

  She nodded toward his aunt. “Love is when you endure pain for the sake of a beloved sister and husband, if that’s what it takes to nurture the child of their illicit union.”

  Then she glanced at Gran. “Love is sometimes doing the wrong things because you’re at your wit’s end in knowing how to help your family.”

  He drew her into his arms. “Love is
taking chances when every rational part of you screams, ‘Don’t risk it.’ Because it’s only when your heart has been ripped open that you get a chance to find the one person capable of making it whole.”

  With her own heart beating wildly, she smiled at him. “And you say you aren’t poetic.”

  “Well,” he said, with a glint in his eye, “perhaps a few of us can be good at everything.”

  And as he pulled her into a dark corner and kissed her with great sweetness, she acknowledged that at some things, he was very good indeed.

  Epilogue

  On a cold but bright St. Valentine’s Day, Jackson and his wife and aunt attended the wedding of Mrs. Plumtree to General Waverly in Halstead Hall chapel. Jackson was truly happy for the couple. She’d admitted shortly after his betrothal to Celia that she’d only threatened to disinherit her granddaughter to test his love. Since she unabashedly acknowledged her fault in the matter, he’d forgiven her. Indeed, they’d mended fences to such an extent that she insisted he call her Gran as the other spouses did.

  Now, as they headed for the great hall, his wife and aunt began discussing gowns and flowers and things beyond his ken, but he didn’t mind. The two ladies were always so lively. He’d never imagined he would enjoy having two magpies in his house, but he did, especially since they fussed over him a great deal.

  In the end, all his fears about how well Celia would manage in Cheapside had come to naught. They had added a couple of servants and were making renovations to the house, but those were things he might have done on his own.

  Best of all, having come from a large family, Celia seemed to like having his aunt around. And Aunt Ada was careful to give them some privacy often, going to visit various friends for days on end.

  “Didn’t Gran make a beautiful bride, Jackson?” Celia asked.

  “Hmm? Yes. Beautiful.” He covered her gloved hand with his. “Though not nearly as beautiful a bride as you were.”

  She smiled. “Flatterer.”

  “Not a bit. It’s the absolute truth.”

  “You were a gorgeous bride,” Aunt Ada agreed. “That veil with the rosettes…”

  And they were off again, discussing gauze and ribbons and something called a furbelow. That last one sounded dirty, but he figured it probably wasn’t, if they were discussing it with such enthusiasm.

  The three of them entered the great hall, where the wedding breakfast was to be held. He gazed down into his wife’s animated features and felt the usual clutch to his heart. Would he ever stop feeling it, this pleasure of knowing she was his? That she would always be his?

  He’d been told that the feeling would mute over time, but he doubted that. Two months after his wedding, there were still days when he looked at her and felt as if he’d stumbled into a dream from which he’d awaken any moment to find himself bereft again.

  “Mr. Pinter!” called a voice, and he glanced over to see Freddy Dunse, Lady Stoneville’s American cousin, heading for him. He and Freddy had played a small part in bringing Stoneville and his wife together a year ago, almost to the day.

  As Freddy reached them, Celia looped her arm through Jackson’s and said proudly, “You have to call him Sir Jackson now, Freddy. He was knighted for solving Mama’s and Papa’s murders. And for saving me from the villains responsible.”

  “Which is also why they made him Chief Magistrate,” Aunt Ada pointed out, still preening with pride over both preferments. “About time, I say.”

  Jackson sighed. His two magpies had been boasting of his success to everyone they saw. “Ignore them, Freddy. You can call me whatever you please.” Having spent most of his life despising people of rank, he still wasn’t sure how he felt about being one of them.

  “Oh, but that’s why I want to talk to you, old chap!” Freddy said. “I want to hear firsthand the tale of how you rescued Lady Celia … Lady Pinter … oh, whatever you English call the knighted ladies.”

  “Lady Pinter,” Celia said firmly.

  She’d had a choice between keeping her loftier title or taking Jackson’s name upon her marriage. It still pleased him that she’d chosen the latter.

  “And ladies can’t be knighted,” Celia added gently, “only men.”

  “Though in this case the lady deserved to be knighted, since she played a part in catching the villain,” Jackson said.

  “She did?” Freddy gazed at Celia with new admiration. “Tell me everything. I want to hear whatever they left out of the papers. Were there swords? I know someone was shot. Was there lots and lots of blood?”

  “Freddy!” Celia exclaimed as Aunt Ada gaped at Freddy, aghast. “We’re not going to talk about that at Gran’s wedding!”

  “I don’t know why not. She married a general. He knows something about guns and blood, I daresay.”

  “Then go talk to him,” Celia said. “I swear, you’re as bad as your cousin.”

  That was true. Lady Stoneville had quite the fondness for vivid accounts of murder and mayhem.

  But Freddy had another, more compelling fondness. Jackson leaned over to murmur, “There’s pie, my good fellow. Right over there. Three kinds.”

  “Steak and kidney?” Freddy asked, eyes lighting up.

  “You’ll have to go see. I haven’t had any yet.”

  That was all it took to have Freddy bounding over to his wife Jane and dragging her to the table to help him figure out what kind of pie it was.

  “Good heavens,” Aunt Ada exclaimed. “What is the matter with that young man?”

  “He’s a good sort. He’s just a little … different. And speaking of different…” Jackson murmured as he saw Ned ambling toward them.

  Celia followed Jackson’s gaze and tensed.

  Then Ned spotted them, and the blood drained from his face. He very markedly turned and walked in another direction.

  “What was that all about?” Celia asked.

  “Who knows?” Jackson said, though he allowed himself a private little smile.

  “Oh, look,” Aunt Ada said, “the newlyweds have entered. I must go pay my respects. Are you coming, Jackson?”

  “Go on,” he said. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

  Someone else was approaching, and Jackson was none too happy about it. He hadn’t seen Devonmont since the house party and wouldn’t mind never seeing the man again, but since Devonmont was his new sister-in-law’s cousin, that was unlikely.

  As the man neared them, Celia cast Jackson an assessing glance. “You do know he never meant a thing to me.”

  “That makes me only slightly less inclined to smash his face in.”

  “Jackson!” she said laughingly. “You would never do any such thing.”

  “Try me.” He glanced at her. “Don’t let this sober façade fool you, sweeting. When it comes to you, I can be as jealous as the next man.”

  “Well, you have no reason.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek and whisper, “You’re the only man I’ll ever love.”

  He was still reveling in that remark when Devonmont reached them. “I take it this would not be a good time for me to kiss the bride?” he drawled.

  Jackson glared at him.

  “That’s what I thought,” Devonmont said, laughing. “But seriously, Pinter, you’re a very lucky man.”

  “How well I know it,” Jackson said.

  “And I say most sincerely that your wife is a very lucky woman as well.”

  Jackson was taken aback. “Thank you, sir,” he managed.

  After Devonmont nodded and walked away, Celia said, “Surely that softens you toward him a little.”

  “Perhaps,” Jackson conceded. “Though it’s a good thing Lyons isn’t here. I don’t think I could be civil to both in one day.”

  She was still laughing when her grandmother rang a bell to gain their attention.

  “Thank you all for joining me in celebrating my wedding.” Gran tucked her hand into the crook of her new husband’s elbow. “I may be an old fool sometimes, but I am a happy old fool.”

&n
bsp; She gazed around at the guests, who consisted of only her family and close relations like Devonmont. “As you know, little more than a year ago, I was ashamed of how my grandchildren were living their lives and mortified that they were called ‘hellions’ by everyone in society. So I took measures that I came to see were a bit harsh.

  “Yet my grandchildren not only rose to the challenge I set for them, but exceeded it. What is more, I have come to understand that their being hellions is not all bad—if not for their strong wills, I doubt they would have found such wonderful spouses or succeeded so admirably in their various endeavors. So today I wish to tell them two things. One, I am tremendously proud of my hellions.”

  That brought a round of applause, which made her color.

  When she went on, her voice was choked. “And two, thank you for giving me such beautiful great-grandchildren—at last.” As laughter filled the room, a sparkle entered her eye. “I promise to dote on them and indulge them—”

  “And not meddle in their lives?” Jarret called out.

  “That, I do not promise,” she said archly, which brought another round of laughter. “Although I shall try to restrain my meddling to matters within my purview.”

  “I daresay your brothers find that less than reassuring,” Jackson told Celia.

  She got a funny look on her face, as did his aunt. He didn’t have a chance to wonder about it, however, before toasts were being proposed and the hall became a veritable sea of congratulations and speechmaking.

  After that was done and people began to mingle, helping themselves to the food laid out on the large tables, Mrs. Masters hurried up to her sister to say, “I’m going up to see the babies. Do you and Mrs. Norris wish to come?”

  “Let’s all go,” Celia said, taking firm hold of Jackson’s arm.

  “All right,” he said, a bit bewildered by her determination to drag him along. He’d seen the babies just last month. Still, Aunt Ada hadn’t yet, and he supposed he could endure seeing them again.

  When they entered the nursery, the new nurse instantly cautioned them to be quiet, since both infants were sleeping.