Fall From Grace

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by Wendy Soliman


  Jake raised both brows. ‘He told you that?’

  ‘Of course not, but I can tell.’ Olivia flashed a whimsical smile. ‘Perhaps attending our small ceremony tomorrow will give him the courage to propose.’

  Jake laughed and kissed her again until thoughts of anything else other than the magical feel of his lips upon hers left her mind.

  ***

  Charles was to escort Megan to the wedding that society so eagerly anticipated. He called at Cheyne Walk to collect her, resplendent in a coat of pale grey and an intricately embroidered silk waistcoat. Megan had never seen him look more handsome, and recalling Olivia’s advice found the courage to say as much. Charles seemed surprised by the compliment, since she had avoided commenting upon the dashing figure he cut in her previous dealings with the suave aristocrat, thinking he would misinterpret her intentions. Or worse yet, understand them. Besides, looking upon another gentleman with anything other than detached interest would have seemed presumptuous as well as an insult to Luke’s precious memory.

  ‘Why, Megan,’ he said in response. ‘You are not wearing black.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure if I should abandon it for the occasion, but Olivia insisted.’

  ‘I’m very glad she persuaded you.’ He studied her silk lavender gown and matching hat and smiled his approval. ‘You look magnificent and the colour is exactly right.’

  ‘I don’t care what anyone says,’ she replied defiantly, her courage bolstered by Charles’s approval. ‘Wearing black to a wedding would cast a pall over a happy occasion.’

  ‘That it would. You are past your first year of mourning and no one will think less of you for abandoning your widow’s weeds.’

  ‘Recent events have made me considerably less tolerant of society’s opinion.’

  ‘Good girl!’ His raffish smile bolstered her courage. ‘How is Olivia?’ he asked, glancing up the stairs.

  ‘Calm as you please and looking absolutely divine. Lord Torbay is very fortunate.’

  ‘Does she have need of you still? We don’t need to leave quite yet.’

  ‘Lud no. She has Eva and her mother with her. I was simply lending moral support and getting in the way.’

  ‘Then shall we go?’

  ‘By all means.’

  Charles’s carriage was outside the door and he helped her into it.

  ‘Have you decided when you will take up residence at Cantrell Court?’ he asked as the conveyance moved off.

  ‘Immediately. First thing tomorrow. It’s all arranged. Lord and Lady Torbay will leave for the West Country in the morning and Olivia’s house will be closed up, so I will have nowhere to live. Besides, the dowager countess is falling over herself to be obliging.’

  ‘Probably trying to mend fences and persuade you to put on a united front for the benefit of others.’

  ‘It will do her no good.’

  Charles squeezed her hand, sending feelings of awareness spiralling through Megan. Feelings she had been ashamed of when she’d experienced them on previous contact with Charles. Feelings she had been trying to deny because…well, because Charles was highly eligible and couldn’t possibly have any interest in such an unprepossessing creature as her. His gentlemanly instincts had driven him to protect her when she had been in dire need of it. He looked out for her still because he had been Luke’s friend and because, unlike the females she had seen gazing admiringly at him at Lady Garmin’s ball, she was not so unrealistic that she imagined her nascent feelings for him could possibly be returned, despite having occasionally persuaded herself otherwise in the past. But, of course, she had not been thinking clearly on those occasions. With Sebastian safe and her own future secure, she was now perfectly lucid.

  Her admiration for Charles was a burden to be borne with stoicism, or had been until Olivia had quizzed her on the subject the previous day. Olivia claimed that Charles returned those feelings but wouldn’t address her because he knew she was still in mourning for Luke. Megan laughed aloud and said it was impossible, but Olivia had made her dare to hope. Whether her conscience would permit her to encourage him, as Olivia had insisted that she must, was another matter entirely.

  ‘I shall certainly not be intimidated by Lady Cantrell anymore,’ Megan said with conviction.

  ‘I am very glad to hear it. You have great strength and resolve, my dear, but I suspect you have already discovered that for yourself. Anyway, Joseph’s reputation, to say nothing of Arabella’s, will never recover, and that will be the dowager’s punishment. Her daughter and nephew have been tried in the court of public opinion and the sentences handed down by that censorious lot are far harsher than those doled out at the Old Bailey.’ Charles smiled at her. ‘It is your welfare that concerns me.’

  ‘I shall be fine.’ Megan elevated her chin. ‘Lady Cantrell can do nothing to harm me now. I shall soon have sufficient funds to restore Cantrell Court to its former glory, thanks to Luke’s rare moment of responsibility in making sensible investments, so I hold all the aces.’

  Charles looked perplexed. ‘Rare moment of responsibility?’

  Megan nodded. ‘I loved Luke with a passion but that love didn’t blind me to his faults. He was still a child in so many respects; impulsive, reckless, enjoying life and living for the moment. In actual fact, it was I who suggested he pursue most of the more lucrative contracts he eventually signed. I had seen how my father managed such things and was able to advise him.’ She looked away, determined to shed no further tears over the father of her child—a man who would always own a part of her heart. ‘Then he took off to go hunting, leaving me alone with a young child. A hunt which got him killed. A hunt which those plotting his downfall know he wouldn’t be able to resist. And I encouraged him to go because I didn’t want him to resent me for curtailing his enjoyment, or risk putting a lucrative contract at risk through his incivility if he declined his invitation. I shall always blame myself for that.’

  ‘Luke would have found a reason to go without your encouragement.’

  ‘Most likely.’

  ‘I had no idea you’d seen him for what he was.’ Charles grasped her hand. ‘And to think I envied him.’

  Megan blinked. ‘You did?’

  ‘Certainly. I am not a bit like Luke. In fact I am sometimes too serious, too responsible for my own good. I wish I could treat life more light-heartedly.’

  ‘And I would much prefer it if you did not. Without you beside me these past months, I honestly don’t think I could have survived.’ Megan swallowed down a swell of emotion. ‘Luke’s father was right to lose patience with him. Life was an endless party for Luke and he never would have lived up to his responsibilities. But sending him to India to make a man of him wasn’t the answer. He simply took up with me, adored me in his rather boyish fashion, and leaned on me, taking my advice but never offering opinions of his own. It sometimes felt as if I had two children.’

  Megan felt liberated to have spoken her mind. Charles didn’t seem shocked by what she had said to him. In fact he looked thoughtful and then rather pleased. Could Olivia have got it right? Megan hardly dared hope.

  ‘I have to complete an assignment for the Foreign Department,’ he said softly. ‘I shall be returning to India soon. When I come back, you will have been two years a widow.’ He fixed her with an ardent look. ‘Make I call upon you then?’

  ‘I should feel insulted if you did not.’

  He grasped her hand. ‘And when I call, may I ask you a question?’

  Megan nodded slowly, feeling empowered. She waited for guilt to consume her, but it failed to materialise. It was as though Luke was giving her permission to continue living. ‘I wish you would,’ she said, meeting his gaze and brazenly holding it.

  ‘And when I ask it, what will your answer be?’

  ‘Without knowing what you intend to ask,’ she said, smiling, ‘it is impossible for me to say. All I do know is that I would not willingly disoblige you.’

  ‘Then, for now, that must be my reward.’ He leane
d towards her and briefly kissed her lips, just as the carriage pulled up outside St. George’s Chapel. ‘Which side of the church should we sit on?’ he asked. ‘We are friends with both bride and groom.’

  ‘Olivia’s, I think. She has fewer connections.’

  But when they walked into the church Megan realised her mistake. It was packed to capacity with society’s elite; everyone keen to witness the wedding that had caused so much speculation.

  Olivia had been accepted and embraced by a fickle society that had once turned its back on her. Megan knew that she would be more amused than gratified when she entered the chapel of her father’s arm and realised it for herself.

  The End

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  About the Author

  Thank you for reading Fall From Grace. If you want more from Jake and Olivia, check out the other titles in this series, listed below, as well as my other historical efforts.

  I was brought up on the Isle of Wight, off the Hampshire coast of southern England, surrounded by castles, stately homes and history at every turn. I must have unwittingly absorbed the historic atmosphere because I write mostly about bygone days, living vicariously alongside my strong heroes and independently-minded heroines.

  When not letting my imagination flow over a hot keyboard I spend my time walking my beloved dog – a rescued mutt of indeterminate pedigree – and make half-hearted efforts to hold back the years through regular visits to the gym.

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