by Erica Ridley
His mother was out of her sickroom tossing playing cards about with a low-born commoner.
He backed away from the open door and collapsed against the wall in awe and relief. Mother looked better than she had in a month. She was going to pull through.
More importantly, so was his family. Somehow Faith had managed to soften the one woman Hawk could’ve sworn could not be melted.
He had no idea how she had done the impossible, but her methods were likely the exact talents that enabled her to be a beloved teacher to students who had never heard a kind word prior to becoming wards of the St. Giles School for Girls.
Compared to some of those challenges, he supposed gentling his mother had been child’s play.
The corner of Hawk’s mouth lifted. Literal child’s play. He would not soon forget the sight of his mother tossing playing cards with abandon.
He peeked around the corner one last time. He could not rightly claim that he was looking at his wife with new eyes. Not when he had always loved her.
But for a short while, he had allowed the anger in his heart to blind him from the treasure he already had.
If Faith could work such magic with Mother, surely all of them working together could turn a household of virtual strangers into a true family. Create a true home.
He turned away from the laughing women and made his way to the end of the short corridor where Christina’s bedchamber stood.
She sat in the center of her small room, on a rug Hawk had never seen before but strongly suspected had come from her old bedchamber. Or at least from her grandparents. A ring of even more brightly colored pillows encircled her, several of which were adorned with one or more dolls.
Hawk stepped into the room and inclined his head at the maid folding freshly laundered pinafores into Christina’s armoire.
“May I join you?” he asked his daughter.
She pointed toward one of the pillows. “Your spot is there.”
“I have a spot?” he asked in surprise.
“Your spot is by your doll,” she said impatiently, as if he were being purposefully dimwitted.
“I have a doll?” Hawk echoed in bewilderment.
Christina leaned forward with a huff and yanked up the doll that had been lying on the pillow she indicated. Short, light brown hair, a wide smile, evening dress far more elegant than anything remaining in Hawk’s wardrobe.
He sat down on the pillow and accepted the doll. “This is me?”
“That’s Hawkridge Doll,” Christina said, as if explaining the obvious to a baby. She pointed at each of the figures sitting on the pillows. “That’s Aunt Faith Doll, Grandmother Doll, Grandfather Doll, and Christina Doll. Plus their animals. Hawkridge Doll is the newest.”
He blinked at her. “When did you get it?”
“Grandmother and Grandfather sent it to me.” Christina marched a wooden pony from one pillow to another. “I promised to try and love it.”
Hawk glanced down at the doll in his hands then back to his daughter. “Why would you promise to try to love Hawkridge Doll?”
“Well… He hasn’t been with us for as long as the rest of the dolls, but he’s still family.” Christina’s hazel eyes hesitantly met his. “Aren’t we?”
Hawk nodded and walked his doll across the carpet to press a kiss to the top of Christina Doll’s curly head. “Forever and ever.”
Chapter 25
On Saturday afternoon, Faith hung back with her husband as they watched their daughter scamper through the flower-lined paths and towering statues of the Bagnigge Wells tea-garden.
After all these years, she had finally married the man who had haunted her dreams for a decade, yet this moment was the first time that actually felt like courtship.
He wasn’t behaving like a rakish buck afraid that someone should espy him flirting with the wrong element. Nor was he acting like an autocratic husband, laying out mandates without regard for her feelings or opinion.
Indeed, in the weeks since they had been wed, Hawkridge had been treating her like a… beau.
It was an exhilarating sensation. More so than the wedding had been, which was nothing more than a ceremony required by law.
Escorting her and Christina to a public tea-garden was something he had chosen to do. Gazing down at her time and again to ensure her comfort or her happiness, something he could not help but do.
Such attention was more than heady. He made her feel like she mattered. Like he didn’t care who knew he had married her, because he had chosen her and she was wanted. She and Christine both.
She curled her fingers tighter about his arm. If their future together were half as peaceful and sweet as this moment, perhaps they could make it.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He slanted her an amused glance. “I had no idea you were a miracle-worker.”
“A what?” She looked up at him in bafflement.
“My mother,” he said, as if the word alone was more than explanation enough. “She can be…difficult. And she has not been fair to you. Yet I saw her immersed in a card game with you as if you’d been bosom friends for decades.”
“Oh, that.” Faith widened her eyes innocently. “Easy. I promised she could throw the cards at my face.”
“What?” Hawkridge choked in horror.
“I’m teasing.” Faith squeezed his arm. “I understand your mother. When I became your marchioness, I realized that the one thing the dowager hated more than me was feeling useless. She was bored and frustrated and lonely. From her perspective, the only thing worse than having Chris and me around would be not having us around. We were better than staring at the wall.”
Hawkridge blinked. “You and Christina?”
“Chris has been asking to play the throwing-card game for years. When she was younger, I worried the maths would be too complicated. But I figured, if I happened to teach Christina in your mother’s sitting room, where your mother couldn’t help but overhear the rules of the game…”
“Clever.” Hawkridge grinned. “But how did you convince her to play?”
“I didn’t,” Faith answered. “Christina did. She simply asked the dowager if she’d like to join us.”
“And won her over just like that?”
“Being cold to an upstart commoner one fears will ruin the life of one’s son is one thing. Being rude to an innocent child is another. Your mother has better breeding than that.”
“You used good breeding against her,” he breathed in awe. “Diabolical.”
Faith laughed. “The game did the rest. It’s addictive. Who doesn’t enjoy tossing playing cards in the air and gloating at one’s opponent?”
“No wonder my mother loves it,” Hawkridge said wryly. He gestured to a fully bedecked table in the path just ahead. “More tea?”
She shook her head.
Now that the subject of familial relations had been broached, perhaps this was as good a time as any to have a long overdue conversation. She and Hawkridge were within eyesight of Christina but out of earshot of the other passersby. Faith swallowed her nerves. In an environment as peaceful as this, perhaps they would not argue.
“Christina seems to have taken to you,” she began quietly.
Hawkridge’s entire face lit up. “I adore her. You have raised her brilliantly. She is smart and thoughtful and kind.”
Faith blushed with pleasure. “Thank you. Right now, she is also the center of my world.”
He frowned. “Our world.”
“For now,” she allowed. “I presume you will soon want heirs.”
His brow furrowed. “It is my duty to ensure the continuation of the line.”
She nodded. “That is not in question.”
“Then what is the question?” He gazed at her down at her. “Please speak plainly.”
She took a deep breath. “I do not want Christina to feel that your legitimate children are more important to you than she is. Even if by Society’s standard, that’s exactly what they are.”
His
eyes shuttered. “Our legitimate children.”
She nodded miserably. “Exactly. Chris should not suffer just because she was first.”
He turned to grasp her urgently by the shoulders, his gaze intense and his voice adamant. “Christina will never hold a lesser place in my heart than any other child.”
Faith glanced away to blink the sudden stinging from her eyes.
He did not let her go. “Are you listening? Birth does not matter. You have never meant less to me because you were not born to the aristocracy. I am jealous of your relationship with your parents, and their love for each other. You are richer than me even without counting money.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes.
“That is what I want for Christina,” he continued, his gaze fierce. “She will never doubt her place in our hearts because we will not give her reason to do so. She has been raised in love, and I hope that never changes. She will be Aunt Christina to our heirs, and I will give her reign to spoil them or chastise them as she sees fit. They in turn will have no choice but to love her, probably more than they will love their strict and domineering father. Christina will not be lesser. She will be the favorite. Of her own siblings.”
Faith bit her lip. That sounded lovely, but these were dreams and not certainties. “Will she have the same advantages? Will her peers not view her as intrinsically inferior?”
“You cannot know how much it pains me that it is too late to give her the protection of my name.” His voice was hoarse. “But that is the only thing she will ever lack. Her gowns will be as lovely, her education as complete, her dowry not a shilling smaller, her place in the family as secure as yours or mine.”
“What kind of education?” she pressed. “Chris was going to attend the Fitz-Dwyer Academy, which is the finest finishing school in the area. Now what shall we do? Will we employ the cheapest governess we can find, after we remove to one of your entailed estates in the countryside?”
Hawkridge took her hands. “All decisions about our children will be made by the two of us together. I may have the legal right to rule my house as I please, but that kind of house is not a home. We are a family. So tell me, is it your opinion that we must send Christina to the illustrious Fitz-Dwyer Academy?”
“I don’t know,” Faith said miserably. “Of course we should. For Christina. But I cannot bear to be without her for six months or more at a time, when I have never been away from her for a single night. The wait between visits would be torture. I don’t know if I am strong enough to say yes, even though my parents have already promised to fund her tuition.”
He ground his teeth. “I do not intend to ask your parents—”
“Then you shall be glad to know you shouldn’t have to. They made this decision before they knew you were back in my life. This decision has nothing to do with you or your finances, but rather with what is best for Christina.”
“Then you do think the academy is the wisest choice we could make for our daughter?” He held her hands to his chest. “Would it affect your decision to know that we may no longer need to remove ourselves to the country estate?”
Her breath caught. “I thought we could not afford—”
“We could not. But family can do unexpected things.” The corner of his mouth lifted as if recalling a pleasant but mystifying memory. “We can afford the townhouse a few more months, at least.”
Her shoulders drooped. He didn’t mean they could stay in London forever.
His expression was pensive. “If we find someone to rent the last unoccupied cottage, we could perhaps remain in London for the rest of the year.”
Slim hope. Renting the entailed cottage had thus far proved difficult, because the property required more repairs than the Hawkridge estate was currently in a position to offer.
Which meant it was likely to become their new home.
He met her gaze. “Please don’t be glum. By next season when my port has opened, we could find ourselves in much nicer circumstances than I can currently offer. More importantly…” His face blossomed into a hopeful grin. “Much closer to Christina.”
Faith’s heart melted as she realized Hawkridge wasn’t just courting her. He was trying to court her and Christina both. He had not only married the two of them in a package deal, but had also welcomed them into both his home and his heart.
How could she fail to do any less? Making this marriage succeed required both of them working together. Even if opening herself back up to him terrified as much as thrilled her.
Chapter 26
Between the sunny afternoon at the tea-garden and the candlelit dinner about the supper table with his family, Hawk had not experienced a more perfect day. He did not wish for it to end, although of course it must. Christina was already abed. The house was silent.
He and Faith were alone in an empty sitting room. Two strangers with far too much history to know how to begin a new chapter.
“Thank you,” Faith said softly. “For today. The tea garden was lovely.”
“My pleasure,” Hawk said, and meant it. “Was it Christina’s first time at a—”
Faith shook her head.
Heat pricked the back of his neck. Of course it was not Christina’s first time anywhere. Just because he could not recall the last time he’d splurged on a visit to a tea garden did not mean Christina and Faith had been similarly restricted. His happy glow began to fade.
Just because his first outing with his wife and daughter had been an earth-shattering glimpse into the life they could have had, the sort of life he still intended to give them, did not mean the day was special in any way for them at all.
It was just tea. With a man who might as well be a stranger.
No. Hawk did not accept that future. From this moment on, he and Faith would talk. He wouldn’t settle for husband and wife on paper. Not when they had once been friends. Not when they could still become so much more.
If they could just break free of the past.
If a man with his sins even deserved the luxury.
“Even if it wasn’t Christina’s first tea garden—” he began.
“Seeing you with Christina today—” Faith blurted at the same time. Her cheeks pinkened.
“What were you going to say?” he asked.
She shook her head, her eyes pained. “You first.”
He gazed back at his wife for a long moment and tried to think how best to begin. At last, he took her hands.
“I loved it,” he said simply. “Being with you and Christina… It’s better than I dreamed.”
“I never imagined she would one day be raised by both her parents.” Faith’s smile wobbled. “Like a family.”
“Not like a family.” He slid a knuckle beneath her chin to force her to face him. “We are a family.”
“Christina doesn’t know that.” Faith’s anguish swirled about them like a winter breeze.
“She does,” he countered. “She will. I’ll tell her so every day if need be. Just because there’s no legal way to give her my name does not mean Christina shall lack for anything else. I will ensure she does not.”
“How?” Faith whispered. “We cannot undo the past.”
“But we can surpass it,” he said fiercely. “If Christina and the entire world need to know the truth about her parentage, I shall proclaim it from every rooftop. She is my daughter. I am her father. Now and always.”
Faith slumped. “I should have told you I was with child.”
Yes. And she would have told him, if he had not left her. If he had kept his promise.
His heart twisted. He had judged her harshly for raising their daughter in secret, but he could not claim she had done a poor job of it.
Regardless of the past, she had not hesitated to tell him the truth when he reentered her life and they finally spoke. She was trying. Not just to make up for the past but to make something of their future. Just like he was.
“I should have been there,” he answered roughly, hating himself for the coward
he’d once been. “There would have been no secrets if I had stood by your side.”
“We’ll never know. I didn’t give you the chance.” She shuddered. “I can’t fault you for never forgiving me. I cannot forgive myself.”
She could not forgive herself for having no faith in a rogue who had promised her forever only to abruptly walk away and never look back? He was the one who deserved no forgiveness.
Hawk’s resolve hardened.
It was time to face all their old hurts. To vanquish the past once and for all. To let Faith know how much she meant and the lengths he was willing to go to ensure her happiness.
She was a good person, an exemplary mother, a truly miraculous daughter-in-law even to someone as irascible as his mother. She was a good wife. But far more than all that, she was important because she was Faith. His life-mate. His soul’s other half. His lover and best friend.
The only way to move forward was to rid themselves of the past.
To finally speak the words aloud.
“I understand your decision not to immediately inform me about your pregnancy,” he said slowly and clearly so she could not fail to hear him. “And I understand how quickly you found yourself in a position where you could no longer publicly admit it at all.”
She froze in place, her eyes wide and glassy with guilt.
He lifted her hands to his chest so she could feel the sincerity in each beat of his heart. “I forgive you, Faith. I forgive you for keeping Christina’s existence from me. I forgive you for every hard decision you had to make that continues to haunt you with guilt.”
She blinked rapidly without meeting his gaze.
His heart clenched. “There’s nothing to feel guilty about anymore. We’re together. All three of us, at last. Your lie of omission was made with our daughter’s best interests at heart. I could not possibly seek vengeance for so noble a motive as that.” He looked straight into her eyes. “It is past time for you to forgive yourself.”
Faith’s eyes shimmered and her hands trembled in his.
Hawk slid from the chaise to kneel before her, keeping her hands pressed against his heart. “The wisest part of me forgave you the moment I met Christina. It just took the most feather-witted part of me this long to admit it out loud. I forgive you, Faith. Wholly and completely.”