There was little James could do to argue that. Maybe because he too was impatient to resolve this. And also, because he sorely missed one very feisty young lady who had won his heart.
The ride to their country estate took most of the morning. When he arrived, he paused for a moment on a hillside before following the long winding road to her door. From here he saw her long before she saw him. She stood at the edge of a garden, walking with Bridget. It was all he could do to not urge the horse into a fast gallop just to reach Helena’s side all the faster.
Instead, he rode sedately, drinking in her trim appearance. When she finally noticed him, she froze in place, one hand going to her bonnet, as though to pull it closer around herself, the way she had done with her cloak. She still hides her face from the world.
Then she surprised him, by removing the hat completely as he approached. She met him bareheaded that he might see the glorious perfection of her skin.
“You finally came,” she said softly as he reached her.
“I could no longer stay away.”
He dismounted as if in a dream. At that moment the world faded from his sense. Bridget might as well have disappeared completely. The horse was forgotten. Helena became his world.
“My Lady,” he said as he reached her. “I was rather hoping that I might do you the honor of courting you, with the intent to marry. With your father’s permission, of course.”
It was a bold speech especially given they had not even greeted each other properly yet. He held his breath, waiting for her response.
She glanced down at the brooch that pinned the long shawl she wore against the chill air. “I should think that would take at least five such visits. Maybe six,” she said. A gentle smile touched her lips as she tied her bonnet back primly upon her head.
“Four I should think. Maybe three. Yes, no more than three,” he countered, smiling as well.
“Maybe two,” she whispered, as he stepped close, and took her hand in his.
“One should be more than enough,” he replied, lifting that gloved hand to his lips so that he might place a kiss upon the back of it.
“At least TEN!” came the shout from the house. Harcourt Barrington, the Duke of York, stepped outside to regard them with wry amusement. “And you will take my bloody ship if I have to shove it down your gullet myself.”
James looked at Helena. Helena looked at James. “Ten,” they said in perfect unison. Then because he could wait no longer, he bent and kissed her, capturing her lips with his own, placing his seal, his promise upon her in a way that there could be no question regarding his intent.
Epilogue
Five Months Later
“They have successfully reached the islands!” Barrington reported, with a cheerful whoop as he threw a letter down on the table between them. “Given when this was posted, I would expect them in port any day now!”
James grinned cheerfully at his business partner, his mentor, and friend as he adjusted his cravat. “I am absolutely useless at this. Lucy always managed these things,” he complained as he picked at the knot.
“I expect she’s more interested in fussing at your bride. Come now, man, is that all you have to say? Our fleet is returning any day!” Barrington laughed and tilted his head to eye James critically. “And the cravat looks fine.”
James was already halfway across the room. “And I am getting married. In case you have forgotten. Come, it must be past time to leave. Should we not hurry?”
Barrington chuckled as they reached the door. “Believe it or not, I was an eager bridegroom myself. I daresay it would do us no harm to adjourn to our places.” He clapped James on the back hard enough to send him staggering. James suppressed a grin and led the way out into the church.
There were not many in attendance. Not because James had not weathered the scandal well. His news regarding his birth and subsequent adoption by the old Duke of Durham had created only a minor stir. The truth was no one had cared much, in light of gossip that was much more fresh and interesting.
Nor had Barrington suffered ill. Those who had witnessed the tragic events regarding Phoebe Barlowe had been loath to talk about it. In the end, the entire matter had been hushed up. Her friends had been told that she had experienced a bad attack of nerves and had gone to the country to convalesce.
The fact that no one thought to ask where in the country, and at what house only went to show just how little Phoebe’s friends had actually thought of her. The literary society simply elected a new officer to take her place. Before the month was out, Phoebe had quite been forgotten.
James thought on this now, thankful that Phoebe was far away in the south of England. While it was not prison, the cottage she’d been exiled to was near enough to one. Barrington had been generous and provided attendants to help Phoebe in her daily life. The fall from the window had injured her back, so it was unlikely that Phoebe would ever walk again. Sadly, this also kept Helena’s grandmother from attending the wedding, being too wrapped up in caring for her daughter.
There would be no further threat from that quarter.
With so few relatives to spare, the pews seemed empty, save for the rows reserved at the back for the servants of their households who had been given leave to attend. He smiled to see Bridget and Antony among those attending. Lucy had joined the servants. It was just like Lucy to sit with those considered of lower classes when she could have been in his family pew near the front of the church.
James shook his head, for Lucy had stayed true to her word, leaving the running of his household to his future bride. Perhaps that was right too. In her own way, Lucy would always do exactly as she wished.
With a glance at Barrington, James turned to ask if he rather thought it was taking Helena terribly long to prepare. Had it only been an hour since they’d even arrived at the church? How long did it take to fuss with one’s appearance anyway? Helena had always looked just perfect to him.
But even as he opened his mouth to inquire, there came a shout from the back of the church, followed quickly by another. A boy from his household, along with a youth from Barrington’s had arrived in the same moment, both vying for their attention in the same instant, each trying to outdo the other in the dissemination of the news they carried.
“The ships! The ships have arrived!”
James had learned from his past mistakes. While he and Barrington hadn’t sent their full fleet to the Americas, there had been just enough ships in this particular expedition that pirates would think twice about attacking them. With the uncertainty of the War of 1812, the seas were still uncertain making their safe return an exciting event indeed.
The news spread quickly through the church — all ships had made it back safely.
“James? What is going on?”
It was Helena, appearing at his side, mystified by the noise, and looking positively radiant, if not ethereal with her face framed by the soft lace of her veil. They had all missed her entrance in their preoccupation.
“The ships have arrived,” he answered stupidly for he was having trouble with the management of his tongue at the sight of her. He would never live this down, he knew. He had half a mind to have her go out and come in again.
But looking at her now, he could not send her away if his life depended on it. Whatever she had been doing to fuss at her appearance had affected a stunning change. Henceforth never to doubt the ability of a woman to accomplish nearly mystical things in regards to her appearance.
“The ships,” she repeated and then frowned, looking from him to her father who looked for all the world like he was about to bolt from the church at any moment. “No. You would not DARE. We are getting married. Today. Right now.”
Barrington looked at James. James swallowed hard. He knew that look. Barrington was already halfway to the docks in his mind.
But then James rested his eyes on the slight figure looking up at him with those beautiful laughing eyes, for she could see the conflict this was causing him and wa
s very near to—
“I will have you know, Lady Barrington, that I am a man who honors my word,” he informed her, bending so that they stood nose to nose. “And regardless of how many ships have come in, and from where, I am in fact marrying you today. Not in haste, but in leisure. We are not rushing this ceremony for the sake of a few ships.”
“Of course not!” Barrington blustered beside him, but he shot James a look promising repercussions later for making such a statement.
She sighed and looked from one to the other. “But your ships!” she cried out in consternation. “It would not be right of me to keep you away from the docks at such a time as this.”
He reached to clasp her hands, to bring them to his lips so that he might press a solemn kiss upon her gloved fingertips.
“But my wife!” he said, mimicking her tone and she laughed.
“Can we be about this…?” Barrington asked, his look positively anguished as new runners showed up, each with more tidbits of news than the last.
“There was a time when I would have bargained with you to gain your attention,” Helena said softly.
He took her hand in his and led her to the front of the church, waving at the clergyman that they were ready for the ceremony.
“There is no bargaining necessary,” he said, his eyes going to the rose-shaped brooch that she had pinned to the bodice of her dress. “Something old?” he guessed.
“Borrowed,” she corrected him, and he smiled, feeling the warmth spread throughout his body as it always did when she looked at him like that. In that instant, he could have swum to the Americas himself and towed back a dozen ships. “I believe I gave that particular pin away once.”
He said softly, just for her ears, “and broke the magic spell that had kept the lady trapped within the castle,”
She laughed. “Kept the beast within the castle,” she corrected him, and he smiled, for he’d rather loved her, even in her more beastly moments. He told her this.
“I certainly looked the part,” she said softly, and he knew she was thinking of the faint scars that had not erased with time.
“The scars give you character. And I never once thought you a beast for a handful of blemishes,” he reminded her and lifted her hand to place a kiss there. Someday he would erase every last one of her scars with his kisses, he resolved. “I was thinking more of that poor footpad…”
She swatted at his arm. “Hush, there is the priest. The ceremony is about to start.”
He tucked her arm in his. “I would have you look at me before we begin,” he said, motioning to the priest to give them a moment.
“You wish to speed up the ceremony for the sake of my father’s ships?” she asked, her brows drawing together.
“No, though I imagine that had he heard, he would kiss the hem of your dress in thanks. What I need to say is this: I have loved you for as long as I have known you. Your skin, your imperfections, none of those things ever mattered to me. What I always saw was what was in there,” he tapped her forehead with his finger, “and the amazing, loving heart that beats within your breast.”
“As I have loved you…”
“Hush, let me finish. Though I enjoy hearing those words and would much like to hear them again sometime.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she said with such a false sense of demureness that he had to laugh.
“I was trying to say, that I have loved you, the truest form of you that you hide within your heart. You have always been beautiful in my eyes. I never saw you as less, nor could I have, had I tried.”
She was crying softly now, dabbing at happy tears with an embroidered handkerchief. “You have told me that before,” she complained. “And it still makes me cry.”
“I will repeat it until you believe it, my Lady,” he said. “And now I am ready to marry you.”
“’Tis about time. The ships…” moaned her father from behind them.
“Come, My Lady, let us put the man out of his misery. Allow him to give you away so that you might become mine forever.”
Helena blushed, but she was all smiles as the ceremony started.
James looked past her to those assembled in the church, who had come to see them wed. He studied his new father-in-law who despite his complaints looked for all the world like there was no place he’d rather be than right here, sharing this moment with his beloved daughter.
He looked at his bride, radiant and beautiful.
The spell has been broken, he thought, remembering a long ago discussion with Andrew when they had discussed La Belle et la Bête.
‘And so, after many trials, the couple has found true love. And as with any fairy tale, they shall live happily ever after. May it always be so.’
Romeo and Juliet indeed!
The End?
Extended Epilogue
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More sweet historical romance
Turn on to the next page to read the first chapters of Charity Falls for the Rejected Duke, my best-selling Amazon novel.
Charity Falls for the Rejected Duke
Chapter 1
“Unforgivable.”
The child stared at his handprints on the cream-colored skirt. He bit his bottom lip and eyes widened as he looked up to face the lady whose skirt he just muddied. The young lady smiled, leaned forward and kissed his forehead. He was relieved.
“With that said, perhaps I shall have to reconsider, for how could I possibly refuse to forgive a face like that? Do not worry, dearest, I do not really mind.”
The little boy’s eyes brightened and the young woman laughed. Once he felt assured there actually was nothing to concern himself with, he too began to laugh.
Miss Charity Miller straightened up and bade the child run along. When she was satisfied that his attention had been diverted, she looked down at her skirt and shook her head — for what else was there to do?
How could she be cross with the neighbor’s little boy when he had run to greet her with such excitement, getting dirt all over her in the process? There would be other dresses, after all, and she took more pleasure in the devotion of a little child than she could in any dress.
Charity straightened, and as she always did when deep in daydreaming, she cast her eyes toward the dense lines of trees that defined the horizon beyond the vicarage garden.
Coming over the brow of the hill, she could just make out the silhouette on horseback. She couldn’t recognize the figure with any clarity, but she could tell from the grace of the rider’s bearing, that it was not some common farmer out riding on his nag.
She narrowed her eyes in the early morning light, honing in on the mounted figure and struggling to understand what about him seemed familiar.
She could not make sense of the thought. She could only acknowledge it was déjà vu and repeated the same word that sprang once again to her lips.
“Unforgivable,” she murmured, though she could not reason why, and the bright smile faded from her lively, expressive features. She could not say what it was about the sight of the horse and rider that cast a shadow over her heart. Only that the sight of it brought her the feeling that a reckoning was underway.
Chapter 2
Mr. Adam Harding had no notion of what to expect when he arrived at Lawley Hall.
Passing through the woods and groves in the early morning light, it struck him how very little had changed since he had last been at his ancestral seat. He had ridden these paths more times in his life than he could possibly number, and on that morning, it seemed he had never been away from the place at all.
The leaves on the trees were just beginning to shift
from green to golden; the same way that they had done every year. It had been so since the days when he had run through the grounds as a boy or walked at his father’s side. The Duke of Mornington had pointed out the different trees and told Adam their names and taught him to recognize the different birds by the individual melodies of their songs.
As far as the trees were concerned, no change had taken place at Lawley Hall. Yet the weight that rested on Adam’s heart that morning made him feel as though those long walks had taken place in an entirely different lifetime.
The familiar chimneys and spires began to peer over the brow of the hill, and Adam urged the horse onward.
The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 26