by Carol Arens
Then, turning to Lizzie, he offered his arm. ‘I wonder, Miss Ingram, if you would be good enough to walk with me a while.’
Lizzie was about to demur when the old lady intervened. ‘After last night, you will want to talk together, I’m sure. Be careful to wrap up warmly.’
Unwillingly Lizzie followed him into the hall. With all her might she wanted to push away the encounter that was coming, pack it tightly in a box and mark it ‘not to be opened’, but she had no choice—better, then, to get it over with as swiftly as possible.
Reaching up for her cloak, she brushed against a small posy of freesias that had been left lying on the rosewood console. ‘They are for Gil.’ Justin was beside her. ‘They were his favourite flowers and fortunately Chelwood’s succession house had sufficient blooms.’
She put her nose to them and breathed in their sweet, fresh scent. ‘They are quite beautiful.’
‘Would you object if we were to walk to the cove? The flowers are by way of a wreath.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ she said, but there was a tremor in her voice.
‘It might be good to exorcise the demons,’ he said gently.
The cove, the flowers...he was saying a last farewell to Gil. But a last goodbye to her, too. The cove had loomed large in the short drama of their love and would be a fitting backdrop to its final scene.
He unlatched the kitchen door and she passed through into the garden, quiet and still in the late-November afternoon. Slowly she walked beside him down the path towards the wicket gate, unable quite to stifle a returning fear. A group of rooks rose noisily into the air at their approach and then swirled southwards making circles against the darkening sky.
Their sudden flight startled her into speech. ‘How is your mother? Does she know all that has happened?’
‘I have told her some of it, but not all. I think it best that I do not feed the gossip machine too voraciously.’
‘Is she likely then to spread the story to her friends in London?’
‘Her “friends” are currently on her black list so I am hopeful that we will contain the terrible news here in Rye. But she was most definitely intrigued. She cannot quite believe that a small town can be every bit as exciting as London. I fear she is in for a disappointment if she stays too long.’
‘And is she staying?’
‘In the district, yes. At Chelwood, no.’
A small frown flitted across Lizzie’s face. Seeing it, he made haste to say, ‘It would never do. We are chalk and cheese and her constant presence at Chelwood would suit neither of us.’
‘So where will she go?’
‘An acquaintance of hers is selling a manor house towards Hawkhurst.’ He grinned at her, surprisingly boyish. ‘We are not like to upset each other, ten miles apart.’
They were just then passing the folly and she did not respond. The memory of the hours she had spent with him was threatening to unleash the tears.
Justin seemed not to notice either the folly or her silence. ‘I have undertaken to drive my mother tomorrow and, if she likes what she sees, the Delacourt lawyers will start proceedings to buy. At least the duke seems to have come to his senses and is willing now to meet his obligations by setting aside a considerable sum of money. Of course, if she takes the property, you can be sure that she will spend every penny of his on its refurbishment.’
He swung the wicket gate to one side and in single file they made their way down the wooden steps to a deserted shore. In the muted light the cove stretched before them, bland, innocent, the river flowing calmly a few feet away. They crunched their way across the shingle to the water’s edge. The tide was on the turn, but it would be several hours before the cave once more filled with its deathly freight. She resolutely faced away from the dark, gaping hole.
‘The adventure is over, Lizzie,’ he said softly, noticing her stiff shoulders and determined back.
A spiteful gust of wind rose out of nowhere and lifted the edges of the loose cloak she wore to toss it on to the pebbles below. Swiftly he bent to retrieve the garment and placed it gently around her shoulders again. She could bear this no longer, she must get this parting over and then she could cry alone. She would make it easy for him.
‘This adventure is over,’ she agreed, ‘but you will be leaving for Spain very soon and I am sure that plenty more await you there.’
‘There is only one,’ he said carefully, ‘one last adventure.’
‘You anticipate a final battle, I collect? I hope the Duke of Wellington knows of it!’
‘Not a battle, Lizzie, and not a war.’
What could he mean? Was he deliberately talking moonshine to confuse her?
‘Marriage,’ he said in response to her questioning look. The single word echoed and re-echoed across the beach, breaking apart its calm.
She hardly dared to ask the next question. ‘Whose marriage?’
‘Mine.’
If hearts could stop beating, then hers did, right there, at a stroke. Of course, he would have to marry and soon, despite his misgivings. He owed it to his family. His bride would be wealthy, elegant, a member of the ton, far more acceptable to the Delacourts and to society than she would ever be. It was not just to say a simple farewell that he had brought her to this cove, but to tell her as gently as he could what his future was to be. She wanted to turn and flee, back up the stairs, back along the path, back to her room. And never, ever come out.
‘And your marriage, too, of course,’ he was saying, his voice a little less confident, ‘if you feel you can trust a soldier after all that has befallen. Can you, Lizzie? Can you entrust yourself to me?’
She felt the earth shift beneath her feet and her breath come quick and short. He could not mean it, he could not. She turned a deathly white face towards him. ‘I cannot pretend to understand you. I can only imagine that you are jesting, but I should tell you that it is in very poor taste.’
‘It would be in abominable taste, if I were jesting. How am I to convince you?’ He fell on to one knee and fixed her with a hesitant smile. ‘Elizabeth Ingram, will you marry me?’
‘But...’
‘Just say, yes, Lizzie, if you mean it. My knee is already cut to ribbons.’
‘Yes,’ she said, laughing and crying at the same time, ‘yes, yes, Justin. And do get up or you will ruin another pair of breeches!’
In seconds he was on his feet and had his arms around her. He tipped her chin upwards and brought his warm mouth down on hers. She had thought not to feel those lips again and she clung to him as though she would never let him go, kissing him over and over, until they broke from each other, breathless and laughing.
An anxious expression crossed his face and he held her at arm’s length. ‘Are you sure you will not find life dull with me? You see, I remember what you said about marriage.’
‘I was talking nonsense. It was other men that I found dull, not marriage. I had to meet you before I came to see that.’
‘And you think you could be happy at Chelwood?’
‘More than happy. I have loved it from the day you sat me down in the library and scolded me for trespassing!’
‘Tried to, you mean. I doubt that anyone has managed to scold you successfully, unless it be your father.’ He paused and then said more seriously, ‘By rights, I should have asked his permission before I came to you, but circumstances being what they are...’
‘You will soon have the chance. My father is coming home and will be with us in weeks.’
Justin looked astonished. ‘But when did you learn this? You said nothing.’
‘I heard only yesterday and there has hardly been a chance to speak of it. I am still finding it difficult to believe.’
Difficult but delighted, she thought, so very delighted. She could meet the Colonel with pleasure now, confide
her love and know that he would approve her choice. He must always have wanted this, she found herself conceding. He had acted in her best interests, even when it appeared otherwise. Through the long years he had protected her in the only way he knew, so that one day she could enjoy this happiness without fear and without regret.
‘It is excellent news, Lizzie. While he is here, he can help us plan our wedding. I know that you will want him beside you on the day.’
She did not answer immediately but walked a few steps along the beach and when she turned towards him, her smile was awry. ‘Are you certain of this, Justin, certain that you wish to marry?’ Some part of her mind was still telling her this had to be a fantasy.
‘Why ever do you ask, my darling? Surely you can see that I am deranged with love for you. Unless I am to go through the rest of my life as blue as megrim, we will have to marry.’
She returned to his side and nestled her head against his shoulder, wondering if he had thoroughly considered the problems ahead. ‘Will marriage mean you must sell out?’
‘I have no intention of dragging my wife from battlefield to battlefield, so, yes, I must sell out.’ He tickled her chin lovingly. ‘Lizzie, such a great sadness for you! Your ambition to follow the drum will never be realised!’
‘I have gained another ambition,’ she said shyly, ‘one that is like to prove far more satisfying. But the army, your regiment...have you considered?’
‘How could I not? The army will go on without me—sad but true. Even my regiment will soon forget that I was ever part of it.’
‘But you were so sure that you would never leave the military. You love the life dearly.’
‘I have learned to love something else more dearly!’ Then seeing the trouble in her eyes, he continued forcefully, ‘I have been a fool, Lizzie. I joined the army as much for my father’s sake as for mine. I felt I owed it to him after the wretched unhappiness my mother caused. He had sacrificed himself and it was my job to make that sacrifice count. Or so I thought. That was a burden that Gil and I shared—a parent who loved us a little too much. But husbanding Chelwood will be an even better means by which to honour him, and lately I have been talking to Lavinia in a way that I could not before. I don’t like to admit it, but it seems that my father must share some of the blame for what happened between them.’
‘But Sir Lucien was not the only reason that you became a soldier. You will still find it difficult to leave the army, I think.’
‘Not so difficult. It’s true that for years my father’s tales of soldiering stirred my blood, but I had other less praiseworthy reasons for joining up. I needed to escape—from gossip, innuendo—I needed to be as far away from women and ton society as possible.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I have no need to escape. Not that I haven’t tried—for weeks I’ve refused to see that I loved you, that you were far more important to me than any army career, no matter how illustrious. If ever the truth began to break through the lies I told myself, I would hound it from sight. But last night when we found Gil, when I thought that only death awaited us, too, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I had to live—but it was for you that I had to live, only you!’
He bent his head towards her and once more found her lips. ‘How good it is to be alive, Lizzie,’ he murmured.
Then breaking reluctantly away, he retraced his steps and picked up the small bunch of freesias from the rock on which they had lain.
‘I am sure that Gil would be happy for us,’ he said slowly.
‘I am sure, too. And we will be happy for him—always.’
Each placed a hand on the bouquet and threw the flowers into the river, watching as the posy bobbed happily on the water’s surface, a small splash of colour amid an expanse of grey. Then very gradually the turning tide took the flowers in its clasp and sent them sailing towards freedom and the open sea.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460321539
THE MAJOR’S GUARDED HEART
Copyright © 2013 by Isabelle Goddard
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The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:
Rebel with a Heart
Copyright © 2013 by Carol Arens
The Highlander’s Dangerous Temptation
Copyright © 2013 by Theresa S. Brisbin
The Major’s Guarded Heart
Copyright © 2013 by Isabelle Goddard
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the Un
ited States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
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