Even more so, because of them.
Hearing a rustle in the doorway, they all turned to see the archdeacon toting in a large book. The bishop entered behind him wearing flowing robes. He motioned Nick over. After gently setting Lia upon the pew next to her aunt, Nick joined the bishop—the two of them out of earshot of the others—and kissed the holy man’s hand.
The bishop placed his other hand on Nick’s shoulder. “I’ve one question before we perform the ceremony, Son. The wee ones. They can’t be yers with the lady?” He was a stout man with a face like a cherub, but with enough wrinkles to attest to a long life.
Nick held true to the story he and Felicity had agreed upon. “They’re the countess’s. From a marriage prior to the Earl.”
Nodding his head, the bishop patted down his white hair where several strands splayed out from his Mitre cap like a dove’s wing. “They’ll be no more, I suppose. Considering her age.”
Nick cast a glance at his betrothed, watching her straighten the girls’ sashes. He hadn’t even considered future children. Unbeknownst to the bishop, Felicity was certainly young enough still. But Nick wasn’t sure how she felt about having children of her own. After the nightmare he’d endured with Mina and Christian, a ready-made family was much more appealing to him. Besides, it was a moot point unless he and his bride made love.
“Son?” The bishop’s voice jostled Nick from his thoughts.
“Yes. I mean, no. There’ll be no more.”
“Yer content with that, not having a son to carry on yer name? And yer prepared to love these girls, provide for them, and raise them as yer own?”
“I am.”
The bishop’s eyes crinkled on a smile. He squeezed Nick’s shoulder. “Then let’s make this family official.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Felicity was witnessing a miracle. The third one in the past few weeks.
The first had been Jasper’s appearance. She had yet to talk to Aislinn about the sighting, or to see her brother’s spirit again. But he would show himself when he was ready; she had faith to that end.
The second miracle was when Nick come back out of the blue and married her without question or stipulation. Her entire body warmed at the memory of their kiss at the close of the ceremony today, and how she’d taken communion with him as his wife. Their souls were joined eternally, and nothing had ever felt more right.
Now here she stood alone in the darkened greenhouse and stared in awe at miracle number three: the blossoming passion flowers level with her knees. They were the same ones that had withered three weeks ago.
She blinked in the moonlight, watching the Heliconius butterflies flit across them in waves, feeding on the nectar. Their jeweled wings caught strands of silver light streaming through the roof. The resulting sparkles added a surreal affect.
This had never happened before. Once a set of passion vines flowered, they were barren for months. Another set of vines had been due to bloom within the next few weeks, but not these. Not the same ones…
Purple fungus hugged the stems where the flowers were thickest. Nick and Johnny were living proof of the fungi’s healing capabilities. But if it could rejuvenate wilted blossoms, perhaps it could mend scarred skin.
Fearing to hope but determined to believe, Felicity had already been using the fungus upon herself the past few weeks. She hadn’t seen any change yet, but she wasn’t giving up. Needing a new supply, she scooped some into a jar and sealed it shut. Then, setting the jar aside, she pulled out her tools, opting to take advantage of the blooming passion flowers and harvest some butterfly saliva for her wrinkle cream.
She’d captured enough butterflies over the years to have it honed to an art: wait until the moment just before they took flight. The insects were majestic and mystical, but their body language predictable. Their wings and antennae trembled in perfect synchrony an instant before launching. That was the best time to cup a hand around them.
Capturing the first one, she gently pinched its wings together to hold it aloft in the lantern light. With her tweezers, she took a glass bead the size of a mustard seed and pressed it against the butterfly’s proboscis to stimulate the release of the enzyme-rich saliva. The thick, clear liquid drizzled over the bead, leaving a droplet balanced atop it. Before the saliva could slide off, she carefully dropped the bead into the cream she’d already prepared, then released her fluttery captive to the air. The beads would be stirred into the face cream, and later removed by squeezing the mixture through layers of cheesecloth.
Milking the Heliconius was tedious work. Each batch of cream took twenty droplets of saliva. Upon catching her ninth butterfly, Felicity rolled her shoulders against a nagging ache. She had hoped this would get her mind off of Nick. But it didn’t seem to be working.
Her borrowed ring captured a glint from the lantern. She’d had to wrap twine around it so it would fit. Nick had ended up wearing his on his left pinky, his bone structure being larger than Cook’s father. But he hadn’t minded a bit. He’d even made a joke about it. She knew of no other man more generous or good-natured and was humbled by the fact that he was truly hers.
In fact, she should be with him, bonding as a new family. But she’d chosen to hide instead. She could hardly sit next to him at supper tonight without wanting him. Their hands had touched once while reaching for the ladle to refill Lia’s stew, and sparks of desire lit up her blood. She’d felt the glow within, brilliant enough to torch a midnight sky. She knew, just by the way he looked at her, by how his lips felt on her skin, that he could show her another side to the empty act of copulation. He could take her somewhere she’d never been—to ecstasy.
Her face heated at the thought. Perhaps, if her scar healed enough, she could one day give in to the passions they both shared.
But first, she must tell him of her barrenness. She hadn’t had the courage to confess before the marriage. She told herself, if he would agree to marry in name only, he didn’t care to have an heir.
Her guilt for lying—even if by omission—exacerbated the riotous tangle of emotions writhing within her.
“Need some help, Dove?”
She startled at Clooney’s voice, dropping the thirteenth bead carelessly. It plopped into the cream beneath her hand and she gasped in relief.
“I could use some.” She smiled at the old man, scenting tobacco on his clothes as he settled beside her to capture a butterfly.
He took the second set of tweezers and fell into a routine as familiar to them both as breathing.
“That would be fourteen,” Felicity said, catching one of her own. “You’ve been smoking.”
“I’m worried,” he mumbled. “For our pending guests.”
Felicity chewed her cheek. This had been the first time they’d had the chance to speak in private since the wedding. “What did you learn on your trip to the telegraph office?”
“They’ve accepted Donal’s forged invitations. All but two.”
“Nick’s father?”
“Boarded a ship two days ago. It’s only a three-day trip from London, including the train ride to Carnlough. He’ll be here right on schedule day after tomorrow.”
Blowing out a defeated sigh, Felicity released the fifteenth butterfly.
Clooney concentrated on his tweezers and butterfly number sixteen. “Lia’s gala is tomorrow night, and Donal will be biting at the bit to claim his spoils.”
“I’m well aware of tomorrow’s agenda and our unwelcome guest, thank you.”
“But is Nick aware?”
“If I’d planned to say anything to him, it would’ve been before the vows.”
“Instead, you’re letting him be oblivious in every way. You told him I was lining up workers for the bogs.”
“I feared he wouldn’t go through with the marriage,” Felicity reasoned aloud, although it sounded hollow and petty against the quiet night. “His terror of facing his father is crippling. He harbors such remorse over past mistakes. I was hoping the elder Lord Thornton
would refuse the invitation. Then I could’ve told Nick everything.”
Nick wasn’t the only one she’d lied to. She’d told her servants that workers were coming, too, and the castle’s extra rooms would need to be prepared accordingly until she could build onto the male servants’ lodge where Tobias and Fennigan slept. It was the one way she could think of to make arrangements for her patrons yet keep it a secret from her husband.
“The truth will come out when Landrigan arrives at the gala,” Clooney said.
“I’m going to have Fennigan and Tobias keep watch at the gate. Landrigan’s not getting past it.”
“But when the Elder Lord Thornton appears—”
“Nick needs to make peace with his father, and if deceiving him is the only way to make that happen, then this approach is for the best. I’m hoping…” She stopped herself. Felicity wanted to see Nick reunite with his own family. Now that he’d let go of Mina and Christian’s deaths, it would be the last step in burying the demons and regrets of his past. A freedom she envied yet wanted for him.
“You’re hoping his affection for the little knots will convince him to stay in spite of your dishonesty.”
Clooney’s perceptiveness bit into her conscience. In all truth, she was counting on this strategy. “He hates to disappoint Lia. And he and Aislinn have bonded, as well.”
Clooney lifted a bead with his tweezers. “It’s still a lie. And it will hurt less to hear it from you … sooner than later.”
Felicity set the nineteenth butterfly free. “Weren’t you the one who asked me not to accept his proposal after the laudanum episode? Now you’re concerned for his feelings?”
“I’ve come to know him better on our walks about the estate. His fondness for you and the girls is sincere. He’s obviously striving to be a better man. And I respect that. First he trades his beloved dog for a worthless hobbie to please little Lia. Then he sells his diamond to buy necessities for us all. I’ve a sense that was more than just an earring to him. And…” The old man took a shaky breath.
“And what?”
“He’s brought something back to this place. Something that’s been missing for years.”
Watching the twentieth butterfly flitter gracefully from Clooney’s opened fingers, Felicity frowned. “What would that be?”
“Merriment and music. After you came out to the greenhouse tonight, he dusted off Jasper’s old phonograph and cranked it up. Nick is teaching the girls to dance for Lia’s birthday gala. The dining hall is alight with laughter and mirth.”
“They’re … dancing?”
After his wife’s death, Jasper had shoved the phonograph into the corner and buried it beneath books. He couldn’t bear to be faced with the blatant reminder of nights spent dancing with Isabella in his arms.
“The girls haven’t been this happy in years,” Clooney continued. “Happy, Felicity. Just as children should be.” He paused in thoughtful silence. “Nick tells me he hopes you’ll consider taking the girls to Mass each week, now that he’s here.”
Felicity rubbed her aching forehead. Yes. Nick had brought the subject up several times lately. And after hearing what Clooney just said, she could see the wisdom in such a decision. By hiding part of his relationship with Isabella, Jasper had deprived his daughters of their mother’s memory on some level. Just as by hiding the girls from the world, Felicity had deprived them of memories of their own.
“I am considering it,” Felicity answered.
“Good,” Clooney said. “While you’re at it, consider telling that man—your husband—the truth about his father.” Clooney’s watery eyes met hers. “And about Jasper’s body in the turret.”
She chewed her lip, thinking of how even Clooney didn’t know the whole truth about Jasper yet. “I made a promise to Jasper not to tell anyone of his half-existence.”
“But things are different now. Nick’s living here and has a right to know. Start the marriage off on a good foot, Dove.”
Felicity stroked the gold band on her finger. Nick had once asked to live at the castle for the sole purpose of escaping his family. She doubted he’d want to be anywhere near her or this place if she confessed her deception about the incoming guests.
Then again, he’d asked her at the chapel to tell him about her climb up the turret stairs. He was still intrigued by the afterlife and would be thrilled to know about Jasper’s success. If she chose to betray her promise to her brother, Nick might stay just because of the butterflies. But it would also reawaken his determination to search for Mina.
Felicity had seen for herself how such an obsession could take over a man’s life; how her brother had almost forgotten those who still remained living around him while seeking out the dead.
In spite of how petty it made her feel, Felicity couldn’t bear to lose her new husband to a ghost.
Wrestling her conscience, she left the cleanup for Clooney and took the moonlit path to the castle, following the foreign strains of music and laughter which drifted faintly on the air.
No servant awaited Felicity as she opened the castle door; only the sound of cheerful voices in the dining hall greeted her.
She wasn’t surprised. Shortly after Landrigan’s visit, she’d discreetly told the cook how Rachel handed over some personal business information to Landrigan. Cook reprimanded her daughter severely. Her disloyalty had been the final straw. Using the money she’d saved from her wages, the cook packed up Rachel and sent her by train to a pious aunt in Norwich in hopes religion and strictures could set her daughter’s feet on the path of the straight and narrow.
Tonight, Cook had a headache, and had gone to bed early without cleaning up the dinner mess. Felicity sympathized. Any mother would grieve her child’s exile, even if it had been for the best of reasons.
Once money from the peat started coming in, Felicity would find a replacement for the young maid. Until then, everyone would have to pitch in to help the older servant with Rachel’s tasks.
Ducking into the kitchen, Felicity noticed the fruit cake left on a platter from supper. Cook had insisted on making the time-honored Irish wedding dessert. Felicity scooped up some white frosting and licked the sweetness off her finger, remembering how Nick had fed her the first bite. He’d done everything in his power to ensure the wedding felt real and traditional for her and the girls.
Smiling, she washed some dirty pots in lukewarm water and dried her hands on an apron she’d tied over her powder blue gown. Then, blowing out the lantern, she headed toward the dining hall, unable to stave her curiosity any longer.
The tinkling chords of a Bach minuet wafted from the phonograph. At the far end of the room, Nick had shoved the chairs and the settee against the wall to open the floor next to the hearth for dancing. He’d lit the miniature electric bulbs strung along the ceiling and the fireplace beamed with a jolly glow.
The tang of charred wood warmed Felicity’s lungs. In a shadowy corner, Nutmeg and Dinah were curled up asleep, uncaring as to the dancing and music taking place around them.
Felicity paused at the threshold, watching across the dining table still filled with dirty dishes. Her new husband—in spite of his strapping physique—twirled Lianna on his arm with all the grace of a danseur. Tobias and Aislinn twirled opposite them, then all four bowed.
“Now, you two ladies take a walk like I showed you,” Nick instructed, stationary in his spot.
The girls stepped toward one another, their dress hems swaying with their movements. They met in the middle and curtsied, fanning out their skirts.
Felicity stifled a giggle as Nick took bouncy steps toward his tiny partner then clasped her hand so they could sidestep together. They were such an adorable mismatched pair.
But the intense concentration on Lia’s face checked her humor. The child had never looked more like her mother than at that moment. And when Felicity caught a glimpse of Tobias and Aislinn’s lovelorn expressions as they joined hands, the similarities to Jasper and Isabella during their nightly dances st
ruck her like a slap.
The song ended and everyone bowed to one another.
Felicity clapped. “Brava!”
Nutmeg’s head popped up at the sound and her tail thumped.
“Auntie!” Lianna skipped around the table and tugged Felicity into the room. The child’s face flushed from physical exertion and her eyelashes were heavy with drowsiness. “Did you see me?”
“I did. You and your wonderful partner.” Felicity glanced where Nick was kneeling to pet the dog and cat. She almost melted when he winked at her.
She turned back to Lianna. “And you dance just as lovely as your mum used to.”
“Truly?”
Felicity knelt and raked back some strands that had fallen from the child’s bun so she could kiss her rosy cheeks. “She would’ve been proud.” Directing her attention to Tobias and Aislinn, Felicity stood and clucked her tongue. “And you two. Always have a chaperone. No more tricks like the one you pulled to bring Nick back. Understood?”
Tobias’ ears flashed red and he nodded. “Yes, Your Ladyship.” Bowing once to Aislinn, he said goodnight to everyone and left the room. The castle door let in a puff of cool air as he headed out to the servants’ lodge.
A wicked smile teased Aislinn’s pretty mouth. “It was for the greater good, Auntie. Even you can’t refute that.”
Felicity was about to scold the girl for her audacity when Aislinn captured her little sister’s hand and whistled for Nutmeg. Dinah stood and stretched, yawning as she padded behind the dog nonchalantly.
“Come along,” Aislinn said, herding her sister and the pets to the door. “Bini’s drawing a bath for us. Tis time to leave the newlyweds alone.”
Lianna cast a covetous glance over her shoulder. “But aren’t they to dance? The prince and princess always share a dance after they’re married. I wish to watch!”
The Glass Butterfly Page 27