A Forgiving Heart

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by Kasey Stockton


  “Yes,” she answered.

  Silence hung between them as he nodded. She traced the bruise on his temple and the smaller one on his opposite cheek with her gaze, wondering if they pained him much.

  He watched her intently. “Martin left this morning.”

  “Oh?” she replied. She felt foolish for her benign answers. Where was the easy banter between them? The comfortable conversation?

  “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

  “Agreed.” She drew in the sweet morning air and blew the breath out between her teeth.

  “Can we walk?” Peter asked.

  “Certainly.” She took his arm, and they began walking down the first row of apple trees. They were so young they hardly peeked over Peter’s riding boots, but she still loved the feeling of being surrounded by the beautiful trees—the new, fresh life.

  “Mr. Gibson has yet to be found,” Peter said. “If that was indeed his real name. He appears to have vanished from Larkfield entirely.”

  Kate shook her head. “I am sure he is miles away now. Though, I do not find that worrisome. He was merely Martin’s pawn, was he not?”

  Peter nodded. Clearing his throat, he said, “Cohen offered Martin a position at his sugar plantation in Antigua, and Martin took it. There were stipulations, of course, but he agreed to every one of them. It was either that or turning him over to the magistrate, and I think he found Antigua to be the lesser sentence. According to Cohen, he is in for a world of hurt. It is not an easy climate or culture to acclimate to.”

  “Right. He would know.”

  Peter stopped. They were halfway through the aisle of trees, and he turned to face her. “Does this bother you?”

  Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. But Peter looked so concerned, his eyes darting about, raking her face as though searching for something. But Martin was going to be an ocean away—why would that bother her? “No, I think it is a fine solution.”

  Peter let out the pent-up breath he must have been holding in for ages. His entire body relaxed, and she could see, now that the lines of his face were serene, just how troubled he had been before.

  “Did you worry that I would be upset?” she asked. “I do not wish him ill, Peter.”

  He looked dubious, and she placed a hand on his arm.

  “Your brother may frighten me, and I can truthfully admit I do not want to ever see him again, but I cannot wish harm against him. He was a foolish man who made irrational, alarming decisions, but what good would it do me to hold onto anger?” She softened her voice, squeezing his arm. “What kind of person would I be if I preached forgiveness to you and then held hatred in my heart for Martin?”

  Peter’s eyes shone, the beautiful blue-gray stunning in the sunlight.

  She smiled sadly. “I have a feeling that getting him out of the country before Miss Smithson catches wind of what he did was a very smart move.”

  “Actually, it turns out that Miss Smithson’s situation is far more complicated than I’d imagined.” He rubbed his temples. “She’s with child.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped open, stunned. That certainly explained why Martin would be so concerned. “Will she go to Antigua?”

  “I’m not sure it’s safe. No, I think I will have to make certain she’s cared for, that she finds a comfortable situation. I thought to offer her the dower house behind Evanslea. It’s been closed up for some time but would be a fine home with some heavy cleaning and possibly a few upgrades. I owe it to her after what Martin did.”

  Kate nodded. “I will do what I can to help.”

  He gazed at her with adoration, and her heart skipped a beat. This was the expression she’d seen when he’d found her tied up. This was the man she believed might care for her.

  Her pulse raced, and she lowered her gaze. It would be best to calm her heart, but she did not know how. Clearing her throat, Kate did her best to remain composed. “Can I ask what the stipulations are on his return?”

  “I thought he should never return, but we shall see. He cannot come back before seven years have passed, and he must have it approved from me in writing.”

  “That is reasonable.”

  Peter nodded. “I hope seven years of hard work will teach him a thing or two. Cohen knows of a man thinking of selling his plantation in a year or so, and it happens to neighbor his. I would consider buying it and hiring Martin to manage it if he has proven himself by that point. But we will have to wait and see.”

  Kate smiled proudly up at him, gratified to see the compassion and kindness he showed to his brother despite the terrible choices Martin had made.

  “Meanwhile,” Peter said, gazing into her eyes with a sudden fierceness that thrilled and scared her at the same time. “There is another joint venture I would like to propose to you.”

  “Yes?” she asked, breathless. He was probably going to ask her about trees or something, but she just could not pull herself away from his handsome smile and the dimple that appeared next to his lips.

  “How would you feel about combining our resources and sharing a life together?”

  The world felt as though it ceased moving. Birds became silent, Emily and Mr. Cruikshank disappeared, even the wind quit howling softly in her ear. Kate searched Peter’s kind eyes and found joy shining within them, mirroring the happiness erupting within her soul. She stepped toward him as if his very smile was pulling her closer. “I think I should enjoy that very much.”

  “Then what do you say to becoming my wife?” he asked, snaking his arm around her waist and resting the other palm on her neck, his fingers getting lost in her hair.

  She wanted to close her eyes against the feel of his fingers on her, but she could not tear her gaze from him. This was comfortable. This was the easy banter she’d been missing. Peter had begun as a confidant, a friend. Now, he was far more dear. “I say yes.”

  Peter gave her a decidedly boyish grin before closing the gap between them and bringing his lips to hers.

  An explosion of warmth moved through Kate’s body in his comforting embrace, his arms tightening as if he could not get close enough. She rested her hands on his chest and relished the quick beat of his heart under her palm as he made her feel loved and cherished. He pulled back a minute later—all too soon in her opinion—and gazed into her eyes. “Should we post the banns this Sunday?” he asked.

  Kate couldn’t help but laugh loudly, Peter joining in with a chuckle that rumbled under her fingertips. “If you wish,” she said when her tears dried. “Though I must meet with Mr. Cruikshank and Mr. Balham together before any plans are finalized.”

  “Whatever for?” Peter asked, taking her hand and leading her back to where they left their horses, his thumb rubbing lightly over her knuckles.

  “Well, if I am going to move into Evanslea, I must find a way to keep my orchard.”

  He paused midstride. “We cannot sell Split Tree,” Peter said, affronted.

  She gazed up at the beast of a man with a tender heart. “Why? We will have Evanslea, and we do not need two estates.”

  “We can rent it out for a time, perhaps,” he conceded. “But what if we have more than one son? I should think you’d like to pass on some of your own legacy.”

  Kate smiled at the thoughtful man. She imagined him sitting beside a cozy fire with his arm around her and a golden-headed baby nuzzled in her arms. It was absurd thinking back on the past few months that she had considered herself well suited to Martin, when she and Peter were so clearly meant to be. Perhaps Emily had been right all along, and the best way to go into marriage was with a strong foundation of friendship.

  “Very well,” she agreed. “But one last condition.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow to her, and she sighed dramatically. “We must find a gentle way to break the news to Mrs. Gressle that she is being booted out of her honorary role as Evanslea’s mistress.”

  “That will be tough,” he agreed. “She’s taken on the role for a good decade, at
least.”

  “I think we’ll manage to come up with something,” Kate said, stepping up on her toes to kiss him once more.

  “I have a feeling,” Peter said, his fingers splaying over her back, “that I am going to find a life with you to be both wonderful and full of surprises.”

  “Well, naturally. It would be so boring any other way.”

  He chuckled and pulled her closer. She sent up a prayer of gratitude for the things that surrounded her; a man that cared for her, new land she had a hand in developing, and most importantly, a home within this new adventure that would be full of love, compassion, and forgiveness.

  Epilogue

  “Fretting will not bring us to London any faster, Emily,” Kate said, reaching across the carriage seat to pull her friend’s gloved hand into her own.

  Emily tipped her head back, resting it on the squab and closing her eyes. “But what shall I do if he is very much changed?” she asked quietly, her voice hardly above a whisper.

  Kate shot a look to Peter, sitting directly across from her, and he nodded once, his eyebrows drawn together in compassion.

  “No man returns from war unscathed, Mrs. Nielsen,” he said gently. “And from what I have heard about Waterloo thus far, your husband will indeed be much changed.”

  Emily squeezed Kate’s hand harder, her eyes pinching in accordance with her fingers.

  Shooting a wide-eyed look at Peter, Kate wondered at his motives. He merely shook his head, however, and continued, his voice low and warm. “What you can do for him, Mrs. Nielsen, is give him your unceasing love and support. He will undoubtedly need time to heal from his wounds, both physical and mental.”

  Emily sat up, regarding Peter warily. “Mental? Surely you are not suggesting—”

  He lifted a staying hand. “Trust me, and you shall be able to help him far better. He will need understanding, even if he believes you to be incapable of offering it. And he will need support. It is not unheard of for soldiers to have terrible dreams after returning home, recounting their time on the battlefields, or even recalling those horrid moments in the middle of the day. Some men wish to discuss everything, to unburden their souls, and some men cannot bear to speak one word of it.”

  Pregnant silence fell upon the carriage occupants as they rolled forward, jostling from the pocks in the road.

  “But,” he said, his voice unwavering, “whatever you do, never cease loving him.”

  Silent tears rolled down Emily’s cheeks as she shook her head. “I never could.”

  Sliding an arm around her friend’s back, Kate pulled her into an embrace, rubbing Emily’s shoulders as her friend cried concerned tears.

  They had received the news of Wellington’s triumph at Waterloo just a month prior, and the entire households of both Split Tree Manor and Evanslea had waited with bated breath for a missive from Paul. When one finally arrived, Emily had ripped it open, devouring the contents before throwing herself onto the sofa in a fit of sobs and tossing the letter at Kate for her to read.

  Paul was returning to England, but he was not whole. A bayonet had slashed him near the ribs, and while he was expected to make a full recovery, he was not yet fully healed.

  Right away, Peter had set to securing a swift transport to London and offered his townhouse to the Nielsens for the duration of Paul’s infirmity.

  They had planned to arrive in London prior to Paul but had received word that the soldier was ahead of schedule, and Emily had been a frantic nest of nerves ever since.

  Peter reached across the carriage and took Kate’s fingers in his own, squeezing them softly while he shot her the smile she loved so dearly. Their wedding had been set for the end of the summer, and she found that time seemed to crawl while she waited for that blessed day to arrive.

  “We are nearly there,” Peter said softly.

  Emily pulled away from her friend and wiped at her eyes with her sodden handkerchief. Kate pulled her own from her sleeve and offered it to her friend as the carriage rolled to a stop.

  Releasing a shuddering breath, Emily held tightly to her handkerchief. Resolve fell over her face.

  “Are you ready?” Kate asked.

  Emily nodded, and Peter opened the carriage door, letting down the step before helping Emily to alight. The woman climbed the stairs, immediately stepping inside and speaking to the butler before Kate had so much as placed both feet on the paving stones.

  Kate followed Peter up the steps and into the foyer. The last time she had stood in his townhouse was shortly after wondering if she would be forced to marry his deranged brother. Her gaze resting on the handsome, giant man who had saved her, she was overwhelmed with gratitude and relief. Martin was far, far away, and Peter loved her enough to wish to become her husband.

  “Mrs. Nielsen has gone upstairs, sir,” the butler said to Peter.

  “Thank you, Farley.”

  Peter directed Kate upstairs and they followed the stifled cry they had heard the entire way to London until coming upon a chamber with an open door. The scene arrested Kate. Paul lay on the bed, stroking Emily’s head. She had thrown herself across the mattress, her hands buried in Paul’s chest as he continued to stroke her, his eyes closed and a contented expression on his face.

  Closing the door quietly, Kate stepped away from the chamber and leaned against the wall. “I am so glad he has returned to us.”

  “I’m certain he feels the same way,” Peter whispered, stepping closer.

  “And I am more delighted that they’ve accepted our offer to rent Split Tree and manage the house. It is my dearest wish to have Emily and Paul for neighbors.”

  “Only a fortnight left until the wedding, and then Split Tree is all theirs.”

  His hands came down to rest on her waist and Kate placed her fingers on his arms. “Thank you for preparing Emily.”

  Peter shook his head. “Perhaps Paul will not be so badly distressed. I only hope he can recover quickly, in every sense of the word.”

  Tugging on Peter’s sleeves, Kate drew him closer before coming up on tiptoe to place a kiss on his lips. She flattened her feet once more, but Peter bent down, continuing the kiss with fervor, his hands leaving her waist to cup the back of her neck. Warmth filled her heart as Peter drove her against the wall, his fingertips pressing into the skin behind her ears.

  Drawing back, he held her gaze, his chest heaving quietly. “I love you, Kate.”

  She smiled, displaying her uneven teeth to completion. But with Peter’s love, she did not care. She was not concerned with delivering the perfect smile for the man who loved her wholly, unabashedly.

  “I love you, too.”

  Seasons of Change

  Next in the Seasons of Change series:

  The Last Eligible Bachelor by Ashtyn Newbold

  Book One: The Road Through Rushbury by Martha Keyes

  Book Two: A Forgiving Heart by Kasey Stockton

  Book Three: The Last Eligible Bachelor by Ashtyn Newbold

  Book Four: A Well-Trained Lady by Jess Heileman

  Book Five: The Cottage by Coniston by Deborah M. Hathaway

  Book Six: A Haunting at Havenwood by Sally Britton

  Book Seven: His Disinclined Bride by Jennie Goutet

  *Stand-alone books that can be read in any order

  Also by Kasey Stockton

  Women of Worth

  Love in the Bargain, Book one

  Love for the Spinster, Book two

  Love at the House Party, Book three

  Love in the Wager, Book four

  Love in the Ballroom, Book five

  Ladies of Devon

  The Jewels of Halstead Manor, Book one

  The Lady of Larkspur Vale, Book two

  Stand-alone Historical Romance

  A Duke for Lady Eve, Belles of Christmas Book 5

  His Amiable Bride, Featherbottom Chronicles novella

  Contemporary Romance

  Snowflake Wishes, A Holly Springs Romance

  His Stand-In Hol
iday Girlfriend, Christmas in the City 1

  Snowed In on Main Street, Christmas in the City 2

  WANT MORE?

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  Acknowledgments

  I will never be able to thank all of the people who made this novel possible, but I’ll do my best.

  Thank you Jon, my husband, for being my biggest support. For doing all the dishes, keeping the kids fed, and making it possible for me to pursue my dream.

  Thank you to my kids, my little cheerleaders who still think I’m cool and make me feel like a celebrity. I’ll enjoy this as long as it lasts.

  Thank you to my incredible editor, Jenny Proctor, who helps me develop my stories and polishes them into something readable. I could not publish without you.

  Thank you Ashtyn for creating a beautiful cover. I have such talented friends.

  Thank you to my incredible critique group for helping me improve each step of the way, Martha, Jess, Emily, and Evelyn, your input and support is invaluable. Thank you to my beta readers, you are so instrumental in this process and I am so grateful for you! Martha, Deborah, Emily F, Grace, Kandice, Emily S, and Nic, thank you for your feedback!

  And thank you to each woman participating in the Seasons of Change series, I feel so fortunate to have found such a fantastic group of authors and grateful they were willing to include me. To the SRR admins: you ladies are such a wonderful support group and I'm so glad my author career has led me to you!

  And finally, thank you readers for being willing to step into this world I’ve created and giving my book another life.

  About the Author

 

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