by Tuft, Karen
Elizabeth hadn’t known what to expect when she and Kit had descended the cleft into the little valley that had been created by it. But she had known she’d needed to be there, to feel the rock beneath her hands and the grass under her feet, to pick the flowers and lay them to rest in honor of Alex.
She realized now that she had also needed to speak to Alex, to bare her soul and verbally acknowledge the pain she had felt all these years. She had needed Alex to hear her. He was not buried here; his final resting place was in the family graveyard at Ashworth Park. But she’d hoped that being here would provide an opportunity for closure.
What she had not expected was the feeling that Alex had been here with them.
Something had stirred within her heart, a deep sadness that had overcome her for the briefest of moments, but she had felt it, and as odd as it was to admit this, it hadn’t felt like the emotion had originated from her. She had felt a profound sadness, and then it had passed. And she had felt at peace, as though Alex had heard her words and had asked for her forgiveness, and she had freely given it.
She could not entirely explain it to herself, even now. But when she had looked up at Kit, she had seen that he wept too.
“Godspeed, Alex,” he said softly.
They remained where they were, silently kneeling side by side, the daisies carefully arranged before them, the rock behind the daisies. It struck Elizabeth that it was rather like the altar at St. George’s. What a strange thought—or perhaps not strange at all, considering the otherworldly feelings she’d experienced since they’d arrived here.
Finally, after several minutes, Kit raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I will remember this moment my entire life,” he said. His voice was low and reverent. He kissed her hand again.
“As will I.”
“As much as I hate to say it, I believe it is time I returned you to Ashworth Park. No doubt Lady Walmsley will be wondering what has happened to you.” He rose to his feet and assisted Elizabeth to hers.
“I suspect she is doting on Amelia and hasn’t given me a second thought all afternoon,” she said as Kit retrieved his coat, and Elizabeth put on her bonnet and tied its ribbons. He was right, of course, but she was reluctant to leave; she feared that the peace she was feeling now would vanish once she returned to Ashworth Park.
He picked up his hat and brushed off a few blades of grass that had stuck to the brim and placed it on his head. “All the same, I think perhaps we have accomplished what we came here to do, and it’s time I took you back. For, despite what you say, Lady Walmsley—who, apparently, you are to refer to as Aunt Margaret now—will indeed worry.”
“She is the dearest woman. I was so honored when she asked me to call her Aunt Margaret. But now that I am a guest here, where her real niece lives, I feel like an imposter. A usurper, in a way.”
“Aunts—and uncles, for that matter—frequently have more than one niece and nephew at a time, you know,” he said.
“I know,” she said. “But the family is within its right to be protective of Amelia and wary of me, or if not me, at least of whom I appear to represent. I think I should call her Lady Walmsley while I’m here, for as long as I remain here.”
They stopped talking while they ascended the cleft back to the summit. It was trickier work and required concentration as well as sure-footedness, and Elizabeth was out of breath by the time they made it to the top, even with Kit’s careful assistance. He gave her time to rest before continuing back to the horse still contentedly grazing on the grass.
“Lizzie,” he said once they’d reached the copse of trees. “If Lady Walmsley asked you to call her Aunt Margaret, I believe you should. She knew full well what she was doing when she asked you; her concern at the time was entirely for Amelia, but she still saw fit to bestow that familiarity on you. I believe you should accept it and all the significance it implies.”
She smiled gratefully at him. “I will consider your words. But I must also be sensitive to the family whose guest I currently am. They were not expecting to see me, of all people, on their doorstep today and need time to adjust to that fact.”
“But remember, Lizzie—it was not you who caused the family their heartache. Choices and actions were taken by others.”
“I made choices too, Kit. I am not entirely blameless.”
He freed the reins from the tree branch and patted the horse’s neck while he looped the reins over. “Very well, Lizzie. You are not entirely blameless. Only mostly blameless.” He put his boot in the stirrup and mounted the horse in one swift motion. “Now, give me your hand.”
They rode back to Ashworth Park, once again in silence. But it was a different silence this time, not strained, not affected by guilt or anger. There was still grief, for Alex’s death would always be a reason to grieve, but the years of frustration and even humiliation she’d experienced waiting for marriage to Alex had seemed to melt away this afternoon, and even Kit seemed to benefit from expressing the guilt he’d felt because of Alex’s terrible accident.
It was a rich silence this time, one full of forgiveness, reconciliation, and peace.
She wasn’t sure what it would mean for her and Kit. He had kissed her—well, to be completely honest, she had kissed him. Granted, he had immediately kissed her back, which had been a huge relief, and he had longed to kiss her, he had said; his words had been music to her soul. She understood a little more now, as she never had before, what passion and attraction were meant to be like between a man and a woman.
They eventually reached the courtyard. Kit dismounted and once again assisted her from the back of his horse. “Would you care to come in?” she asked, knowing her daughter-of-a-duke voice and manner had returned, despite her best efforts.
He noticed too; she could tell by the look he gave her. “I think not today. It has been a long day for us both, and I don’t wish to tire you further or impose upon the family. I will call tomorrow, when things have quieted a bit, to visit Amelia and see how she fares. And to visit with you and the others, certainly.”
Her heart sank a little. After what they’d experienced together and his kisses . . .
He took her hand in his and began to bow as though he meant to kiss it and then stopped. “No,” he said. “I want better than this for a farewell.” He swept his hat off and pulled her to him and kissed her soundly, his lips lingering for a long, sweet moment before parting reluctantly from hers. “I will call tomorrow,” he said. He swung onto his horse, placed his hat on his head, and set off at a canter.
Elizabeth stood there in the courtyard, watching him leave, feeling dizzy and hopeful and more than a little in love.
***
Elizabeth entered the house, still feeling dazed from that last kiss Kit had given her, but before she had any opportunity to collect her wits, the butler, Buxton, approached her.
“Lady Elizabeth, I am to inform you that the ladies are in Lady Halford’s room and that you are to join them upon your return. Allow me to assist you with your pelisse and bonnet, and then John here will escort you.”
John, the footman, materialized at Buxton’s pronouncement and gestured toward the main staircase. “If you would follow me, my lady.”
Elizabeth removed her pelisse and bonnet and handed them to Buxton. “I will make sure Miss Sterling sees to these immediately,” he said.
“Thank you, Buxton,” Elizabeth replied and followed the footman up the staircase and down the corridor that led to Amelia’s private suite of rooms. He knocked gently and opened the door a crack. “Lady Elizabeth is here, Lady Halford,” he said.
“Thank you, John. Please show her in.”
He opened the door wide for Elizabeth, and after she entered, he bowed and closed the door behind him.
Amelia was lying in bed, her back propped by pillows so she was, more or less, sitting up. A soft blanket covered her, but her belly was large a
nd round and clearly visible beneath it. Aunt Margaret—Amelia’s Aunt Margaret—sat in a chair next to her, holding her hand, and Lady Ashworth sat on a chair next to Aunt Margaret.
“Oh, there you are, my dear!” Aunt Margaret said. “I hope your walk was a pleasant one. You do look much improved from this morning, although I suppose we all feel more at ease now that we are here, and all seems to be going much better than we feared. I know I am greatly relieved to see my dear Amelia and judge for myself how she fares.”
“And how do you fare, Lady Halford?” Elizabeth asked. “I believe your aunt is correct in feeling relieved, for you look to be in fine spirits. I hope that is true.”
“But we are friends, are we not, Elizabeth? I am Amelia to you, as I was last year. It is true enough what Aunt Margaret says, although this babe is a restless one, overly eager to make his or her debut, I’m afraid.”
“Which is why the doctor ordered you to bed, as you well know,” Lady Ashworth said. “Please have a seat, Lady Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed from the other ladies.
“Amelia is restless, you see, Elizabeth,” Aunt Margaret said. “Now that the crisis has been averted for the time being, she is in need of company, something to invigorate her mind while she waits.” She squeezed Amelia’s hand. “I am so glad we are here to keep you company, my dear. I have never experienced the likes of this before, and to be here and share this with you is something I never thought—” She broke off with a sob and reached for her handkerchief.
“There, there, Aunt,” Amelia said while Lady Ashworth patted Aunt Margaret’s shoulder kindly.
“I don’t know what has come over me,” Aunt Margaret said with a sniff. “Well, I do, certainly, but I usually have better control over my emotions than this.”
“It’s been a long two days, Aunt—” Elizabeth cut off her words, despite Kit’s assurance that Elizabeth should call her Aunt Margaret.
Kit’s assurance . . .
She grasped the thought and decided to be bold. “Aunt Margaret,” she said firmly, completing her earlier sentence. “Dear Lady Walmsley has asked me to call her Aunt Margaret, you see. Oh, I know that you are her true niece, Amelia, and I would never presume to take your place in her eyes. But she has been so kind to me, and I have grown to love her in the few weeks I have been her guest. In many ways, she saved me.”
“Oh, here I go again,” Aunt Margaret said, furiously dabbing at her eyes. “These waterworks will not be stayed. She sells herself short, you know; it is she who saved me, not the other way around.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Lady Ashworth said.
“I do,” Amelia replied. “I am thrilled. When Aunt Margaret insisted on returning to her home in London, I missed her dearly. It is hard to discover one has family and then say goodbye to them so soon afterward.”
“You and Anthony were but newlyweds, my dear. You needed time together without worrying about an old woman tottering about. No, it was best for me to return home to London.”
“But then I feared you’d be lonely, and I couldn’t bear that.”
“Which is precisely why I was frequently in the company of that rascal, Lord Cantwell.”
Amelia smiled. “Yes, I asked Anthony to ask him—”
“And he graciously agreed,” Aunt Margaret said. “It gave Foster a bit of a start the first time Lord Cantwell came to call. Thought I’d begun receiving young suitors and that it was evidence I’d lost my mind for good.”
Lady Ashworth’s hand flew to her mouth, and Elizabeth attempted to cover a laugh.
“Speaking of our neighbor, how is Kit?” Amelia asked. “Mama mentioned that you and he planned to go for a walk this afternoon. I would dearly love to see him, and I know Anthony would too.”
“He is well enough,” Elizabeth said, unsure what to divulge at the moment.
“He was well enough in the coach this morning too,” Aunt Margaret said. “But that is not what we are asking, dear.”
Elizabeth looked at her in confusion.
“Come now, don’t make me explain it for you. You’re an intelligent young lady, after all.”
Amelia hid a smile. Lady Ashworth raised an eyebrow.
They were thinking that perhaps a romance was blooming between the two of them . . . and perhaps those thoughts held merit. Elizabeth hoped they did. But she and Kit had discussed such deeply personal matters this afternoon, matters that dealt with Lady Ashworth’s son and Elizabeth’s parents and all the turmoil of the past years, and this was not the time or place to go into any of that. She herself needed time to contemplate what had transpired between them and figure out what it all meant.
“Lord Cantwell, at my request, took me walking on the grounds of Cantwell Hall,” she finally said. “I wished to stretch my legs in a country environment, and he obliged. He asked that I send you his best wishes, Amelia, and to say that he plans to call tomorrow when everyone has had an opportunity to rest from the exertion of their travels and the household has returned to its normal routine.”
“Such a considerate young man! I have enjoyed his company very much this past year,” Aunt Margaret said.
“Hmm,” Lady Ashworth said, still looking at Elizabeth.
But Elizabeth would not say more.
They spent what was left of the afternoon in Amelia’s room. Aunt Margaret read aloud while Elizabeth and Lady Ashworth did needlework; Amelia rested and listened and dozed occasionally. When it finally became apparent that she had fallen into a deeper sleep, they quietly left the room.
“I was so impressed with Lord Halford,” Aunt Margaret whispered when they were far enough from Amelia’s room not to disturb her. “So doting, so concerned this afternoon when he dropped by before he went on visits with the steward and Lord Ashworth. He reminds me of my Walmsley in that regard. He was always such a thoughtful man and the best of husbands.”
“I wish I had known Lord Walmsley better,” Lady Ashworth said.
“You would have liked him a great deal, Eleanor; I’m sure of it.” She yawned. “Goodness me. It seems the long journey and my concern for Amelia has begun to catch up with me after all. Perhaps I shall follow her example and allow myself a short nap before supper.”
“By all means, Margaret,” Lady Ashworth said. “We must keep up our strength for the blessed event on the horizon.”
A cloud crossed briefly over Lady Ashworth’s face before clearing again as she said those words, and Elizabeth immediately felt a new empathy for the woman. The wife of a marquess would certainly be under similar restraints as those of the daughter of a duke. She had lost a son, nearly lost another, as well as her husband, and now she was worried about a daughter-in-law and a grandchild but remained the poised marchioness and hostess.
“What may I do to be of assistance?” Elizabeth asked her.
Lady Ashworth looked at her in surprise. “Well, perhaps we could begin by having a little chat and proceed from there,” she said.
***
Elizabeth followed Lady Ashworth downstairs to the dayroom where they’d taken tea earlier, and when they were nearly inside, Lady Ashworth beckoned one of the footmen over. “We are not to be disturbed,” she told him, and then he closed the door. Her tone and manner were exceedingly formal, especially when compared to the time they had just spent together in Amelia’s room.
“Please, have a seat.” Lady Ashworth pointed to the same chair Elizabeth had sat in that morning. She herself chose the chair next to Elizabeth’s that was set at a right angle to it. It hadn’t been in that spot earlier today.
This was a conversation that had been planned by Lady Ashworth after she had learned that Elizabeth was among the guests. Elizabeth took a deep breath and prepared for the worst.
“Lady Elizabeth,” Lady Ashworth began and then paused. “I am not sure how to go about this, I
confess, but I fear it must be done.” She cleared her throat.
Lady Ashworth was going to politely inform Elizabeth that she was unwelcome here. “I can guess what you are going to say,” she said. Normally, she would have waited passively for the news to come, but she decided to take matters into her own hands—to do something, like Kit would do. “You needn’t worry; I completely understand. Lady Walmsley—”
“You mean Aunt Margaret,” Lady Ashworth said with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes. She has a large heart, and she means well. Lord Cantwell and I—”
“You mean Kit,” Lady Ashworth said.
Elizabeth was perplexed. Why was Lady Ashworth correcting Elizabeth’s use of their formal names in such a manner when she herself was behaving in such a formal way? “Yes. Kit. When the letter arrived informing Aunt Margaret of . . . Amelia’s”—she opted not to use her title, due to Lady Ashworth’s corrections—“condition, it became our highest priority to see that she arrive here swiftly and safely. It didn’t dawn on me until we were on our way what an . . . uncomfortable . . . situation my presence would create. It is why I have written to the Duke of Aylesham—”
“Aylesham?” Lady Ashworth said.
“Yes. He has been very kind since I arrived in London and offered his assistance if I should ever need it, and so—”
“Oh, did he now?”
Elizabeth was becoming more and more confused. What did Lady Ashworth want? Why was she poking at Elizabeth with these sharp little questions? “Yes,” she said. “I am awaiting his reply, which I believe will arrive within a day or two, and then I will be gone, and the reminders of the past will go with me.”
“Is that what you think this conversation is about? You leaving Ashworth Park?” Lady Ashworth said.
“I do not know what else it could be,” Elizabeth replied. “My family and I have been a great source of pain for you and your family. I wish to remedy it so you may enjoy the arrival of your grandchild in peace. In the meantime, I promise I will do whatever I can to be of assistance to you and Amelia.”
Lady Ashworth rose from her chair and walked to the fireplace, looking down into the empty grate. Finally, she turned. “Lady Elizabeth, that is not the reason I asked you to join me here today. If I appeared unduly shocked by your arrival with Margaret, it was not because you aren’t welcome but because I had no idea you and she had formed a connection over the past several weeks, something she only explained to us when she and I joined Amelia in her room. I confess that you are the last person I expected to show up on my doorstep.”