The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square: A Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

  “I have embarrassed you now, I think.” Lord Abernathy laughed and the tension immediately fled from her. “Shall we ride, Miss Harland?”

  She looked at him a little nervously. “I am a little unused to –”

  “Nonsense!” His expression was bright, his infectious laughter making her smile. “If I can gallop, then so can you, Miss Harland. Come now!” With a whoop that seemed to rend the air, Lord Abernathy pressed his heels into his stallion’s sides and bent low over the horse’s neck. Deborah could only watch as he rode away from her, not willing to go riding after him and more than content to simply watch the Duke as he galloped hard across the estate grounds.

  “You did not gallop, then.”

  Deborah laughed as, a good few minutes later, the Duke reappeared beside her, his horse blowing hard.

  “No, I did not,” she said, chuckling. “I refrained, I confess. Although I was glad to see you riding in such a fashion.” Her smile became soft. “It is good to see how much you have recovered.”

  The Duke grinned at her, no longer appearing as the dark, hollow man from her memories but as a gentleman restored. She had not known him before his terrible accident but, to her mind, Deborah considered Lord Abernathy to be a remarkably handsome gentleman still. The way his face lit up when he smiled, the joy evident in his expression when he rode – those things brought a happiness to her heart that could not be expressed.

  “We should return to the house, I think,” Lord Abernathy said, patting his stallion’s neck. “I confess that I myself am a little weary.”

  “After that ride, I am not at all surprised,” Deborah said, with a twinkle in her eye. “Although I have very much enjoyed our rides of late. I shall be sorry to leave them as only a memory.”

  Lord Abernathy’s face clouded. “You are not thinking of returning to the abbey, are you?”

  “I must.”

  Shaking his head, Lord Abernathy frowned heavily. “I do not think that I am quite ready for you to return to the abbey, Miss Harland.”

  Her heart wrenched but she kept her voice steady. “But what use can I be to you, Lord Abernathy?”

  “You are a great many things to me, Miss Harland!” he exclaimed, swiping the air with his good hand. “Do you not see it?”

  She wanted to leap out of her saddle and into his arms but held herself back. “I am grateful to you for your kind words and I am glad that I have been able to help you in such a way, but there is no need for me to linger.” My heart would not be able to withstand it either, she said silently, seeing the dark frown pulling Lord Abernathy’s brows together. They rode in silence for a few minutes, the happiness that had surrounded them like a cloud dissipating all at once. Deborah pressed her lips together tightly, telling herself that, no matter what, she must refrain from speaking her thoughts aloud. Lord Abernathy did not need to know of her own, internal struggle over her feelings towards him. Should she do so, then she would break their acquaintance forever, for it would change everything. Most likely, he would want her to depart from the house instead of remaining here with him. There would be mortification and shame in her leaving instead of happiness tinged with sorrow. She could not bear that.

  “Might we walk back to the house?” he said suddenly, leaning out of his saddle so that he might slide to the ground. “I think I could do with it.”

  She nodded. “But of course.” Turning to face him, she hesitated for a moment. “Although I do not think that I will be able to get down of my own accord.”

  Lord Abernathy was there by her horse in a moment, looking up at her as he held out both hands. “That is where I step in, Miss Harland,” he said, easily, as though she should have expected this of him. “Come now, I will help you.”

  It was not his damaged hand that held her back, although that surely must have been what Lord Abernathy thought, Deborah realized. She could feel heat pouring into her face, her heart beating rapidly as she looked down into his arms. That was where she had longed to be for so long but now, as she saw him, she felt her heart rend anew.

  “Come, Miss Harland.” Lord Abernathy’s voice was soft, his expression welcoming. “I will not drop you.” He chuckled softly, lines forming around his eye as he smiled at her. “This will be the test of all that you have done for my bad hand, will it not? Proof that your ministrations have been successful.”

  “It will.” Deborah sucked in her breath and leaned forward, her hands on Lord Abernathy’s strong shoulders as he put both hands on either side of her waist.

  She was not falling. She was being slowly lowered down to the ground, Lord Abernathy’s strength holding her fast. Her eyes were fixed to his cravat, unable to look anywhere else for fear that he would see the look in her eyes and know her heart.

  “There, you see?” Lord Abernathy’s voice was barely loud enough for her to hear, forcing her to strain to make out his words. “I have not dropped you.”

  “No.” Her breathing was ragged, her words tinged with wistfulness. “No, you have not, Lord Abernathy.”

  His breath whispered across her cheek but she dared not look up.

  “I would never drop something as precious as you, Deborah.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as she realized that her hands were still on his shoulders and that, in turn, his hands had not yet released her. In fact, they seemed to be drawing her closer as though they were in a tender embrace.

  “Tell me something, Deborah, if you will.”

  “Anything.”

  A gentle hand lifted from her waist to cup her chin, forcing her eyes open. Lord Abernathy was looking into her face intently, his hand brushing her cheek, whispering down her neck before dropping to her hand. His fingers twined with hers and Deborah felt starlight flood her soul. This was more wonderful than anything she had ever imagined, her hopes bursting into life like sunlight touching a rippling stretch of water.

  “Have you ever thought of matrimony?”

  Her reply stuck in her throat. She wanted to reply that no, she had not, for she had only ever considered taking her vows and becoming a nun like those dear ladies who had raised her but given that such a response would not be the truth, Deborah forced herself to swallow those words.

  “Deborah?”

  Lord Abernathy had not lifted his gaze from her, not for even a single moment. The day suddenly seemed hotter, sending warmth all through her as Deborah looked into his face and found the question spiraling around her mind.

  “I have never allowed myself to dwell on it,” she said, honestly, her soul seeming to quake with the small smile that lit Lord Abernathy’s face. “It would be untrue to state that I have never thought of it before but I have never permitted myself to linger on such an idea.”

  “Because you are quite determined to take orders?” Lord Abernathy queried, looking at her carefully. “That is still the focus of your life?”

  Pressing her lips together, Deborah felt the air about her begin to tingle and sparkle as though the whole world was waiting for her response. She could not tell him the truth, could she? Was there even the smallest hope that, if she did so, he might lean forward and whisper that he had been thinking the very same, feeling the very same? It was almost too unbelievable to consider.

  “Deborah,” Lord Abernathy said again, his hand tightening on hers, his closeness making her heart quicken all the more. “I must know.”

  “I have nothing else,” she whispered, her eyes searching his expression. “There is nothing else there for me but to take my orders, Lord Abernathy. I have a semblance of a life here, yes, and I have found a friendship with Lady Markham that I never once expected but –”

  “A friendship with my sister, yes, but not with me?”

  His questions were too penetrating, too difficult for her to bear. If he continued with them then she would not have the strength to continue avoiding them, to continue trying to hide the truth of her heart as best she could.

  “I have found your friendship one of the most precious things in thi
s new life of mine, Deborah,” Lord Abernathy said, his hand letting go of hers so that he might capture her face again. “You are more remarkable, more courageous and more wonderful than any young lady of my acquaintance. It does not matter to me that you are not ton, that you do not have a title or fortune. I have come to see that such things mean nothing. In fact, they can be nothing but a shroud to cover a deceitful heart.”

  “You are very kind to say such things, Lord Abernathy, but I –”

  “Would you ever consider marriage to someone who appears as I do?” he asked, interrupting her and leaning down a little closer. “Tell me the truth, Deborah. Would you be willing to give up your thoughts of taking your vows, of the abbey and of the nuns in order to turn to someone like me, to become the wife of someone as disfigured and as broken as I?”

  Tears burned in her eyes and she wanted to turn away but found that she could not. Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Looking up at him with tears sparkling in her eyes, Deborah allowed her hands to go around his neck, her dreams beginning to turn into a beautiful, miraculous reality.

  “Your Grace?”

  Lord Abernathy stepped back at once, leaving Deborah to turn around to her horse so that she might fight back her tears.

  “Your Grace, I am sorry to have interrupted your ride.” A footman was hurrying towards Lord Abernathy, his face filled with apology. “Lady Markham was most insistent that you must be found and brought back at once.”

  Deborah blinked her tears back rapidly, her stomach filling with butterflies as she turned back to look at Lord Abernathy. His expression had changed from tenderness to calmness, as though nothing of intensity had just occurred between them. They had been on the brink of something extraordinary, only for the moment to be snatched away.

  “Lady Cavendish has come to call, Your Grace,” the footman continued, inclining his head. “She is most insistent about seeing you, Lord Abernathy, and Lady Markham has requested that you come to the drawing room at once.”

  “I see.” Lord Abernathy’s voice was low and dark, although his expression remained unchanged. “Very well.” He threw the reins to the footman, who caught them deftly. “Then I must do my sister’s bidding it seems.” Throwing a quick glance towards Deborah, he gave her a small, rueful smile. “Even if I do not wish to.”

  “I quite understand,” Deborah said quickly, as the footman walked back towards the stables with Lord Abernathy’s stallion. “Thank you for an enjoyable afternoon, Lord Abernathy.”

  Lord Abernathy said nothing but eyed her speculatively for a moment, as though he wanted to say something of importance but could not find the words to do so. After breathing a heavy sigh, he turned on his heel and began to stalk towards the house, tension apparent in the straightness of his shoulders and the stiffness of his back. Deborah watched him leave, waiting for some minutes until Lord Abernathy had entered the house before continuing onto the stables herself. There was so much going on with her heart that she was not quite certain what to do with it! Her heart and mind were alive with hope and happiness, the belief that she might one day become more to Lord Abernathy than a simple nursemaid seeming to come to fruition.

  Yes, she had agreed to take her orders and Mother Superior had been fully expecting her to return in order to do so, but surely the lady would understand that her desires had been somewhat changed? Much to her surprise, Deborah felt no guilt at such a thing, not feeling as though she would be doing wrong by turning her back on the abbey. There were many people who loved God and yet were married, with families of their own, were there not? She did not have to become a nun to prove her devotion, did she?

  And then, the gentle face of Mother Superior came back to her mind. What was it she had said before Deborah had departed from the estate? Deborah frowned hard, her feet moving slowly as she led the horse back to the stables. It had been something about feeling as though Deborah needed to go to this estate, needed to be the one to take care of Lord Abernathy. Perhaps she had known, in some way, that it would make Deborah question everything she had thought of about her life. Perhaps she would expect Deborah to return altered by her time with Lord Abernathy. Perhaps Deborah’s desire to remain with Lord Abernathy and no longer become a nun would not be a surprise to Mother Superior.

  “Mayhap this has always been what was meant for me,” she said aloud, making her horse nicker as though in confirmation. “Maybe this life can become my own.”

  It was a happy thought and, with that, Deborah quickened her steps and hurried back towards the stables. There was much to be done and much to consider before her next conversation with Lord Abernathy. She could hardly wait to be alone with him again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What are you thinking of, Abernathy?”

  Startled by the sharpness of Lady Markham’s tone, Deborah found herself coming to a stop just outside Lord Abernathy’s study. She ought not to linger, of course, feeling the pang of guilt that she was eavesdropping but finding that she could not summon the will to walk away.

  “I am doing what I think is best, Judith.”

  Lord Abernathy’s voice was quiet yet determined.

  “You are being ridiculous.”

  There was a short pause. “I do not think so.”

  “That girl loves you.”

  A prickle of fear ran down Deborah’s back as she listened hard at the door. Had Lady Markham just told Lord Abernathy that she, Deborah, loved him dearly? Had she just betrayed Deborah’s greatest secret?

  “I know.”

  Lord Abernathy’s words were thick with emotion, scurrying towards Deborah and wrapping themselves around her mind. Her heart squeezed painfully, one hand pressed to her mouth as her body trembled. So, Lord Abernathy knew of her affections then, did he? He knew that she cared for him. How long had he known? Had he taken the opportunity to speak to her yesterday in the hope that she might betray herself? Heat warmed her cheeks as Deborah closed her eyes tightly, swaying a little on the spot.

  “Then if you know that she cares for you deeply, why are you going riding with Lady Cavendish?”

  In that one moment, Deborah felt her world fall away around her. Her hand fell to her side, her breathing coming in ragged gasps as she leaned heavily against the wall by the study door.

  “Because I must.”

  Deborah felt herself collapse inwardly. So, Lord Abernathy knew, then, that she cared for him but, for whatever reason, was choosing to set her aside and go to Lady Cavendish’s side again. She could not understand it, not after everything he had said and shared with her only yesterday! Had he not asked her if she might consider marriage? Marriage to someone such as him? Why had he asked her such a thing if his intention was to return to Lady Cavendish? Had he been mocking her in some way? Her brows furrowed, her head lowering. No, it could not be so. He had appeared so genuine in his questions, bringing her a new, unexpected hope.

  Unless he was asking you for his own purposes, said a small voice within her. Unless you have been nothing but an experiment for him. Someone who has spent time with him and been able to see past his scars and his brokenness and has yet found themselves in love with him. Is that what I was? A trial? A test? If he knows that I care for him, then mayhap he has hope that ladies of the beau monde will also come to care for him again.

  “As I have said already, Abernathy, I think you are being quite ridiculous. There is no need to see Lady Cavendish again!” Lady Markham exclaimed, her voice drawing closer to where Deborah stood.

  “As far as I see it, there is a very great need,” came Lord Abernathy’s answering reply. “You cannot understand, Judith.”

  “No,” replied Lady Markham, hotly. “no, indeed, I cannot.”

  The door handle turned and Deborah gasped, only aware that tears were pouring from her eyes as she tried to hurry away. Her blurred vision made it difficult to move quickly as she was forced to step into a small alcove, covering her mouth with her hand as Lady Markham exited Lord Abernathy’s study.

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nbsp; “She is not worth your time nor your efforts, Abernathy,” Lady Markham exclaimed angrily, the door now wide open. “Had I been in your situation, I would have thrown Lady Cavendish from the house and never set eyes upon her again.”

  “it is just as well then, my dear sister, that you are not in my situation,” Lord Abernathy replied, mildly. “For I should not like your reputation to be smeared with such a disgraceful act.”

  Lady Markham huffed furiously and pulled the door shut behind her, the sound echoing down the hallway to where Deborah stood. Muttering darkly under her breath, Lady Markham made her way back along the hallway, thankfully in the opposite direction to where Deborah was hiding. The sound of her footsteps began to die away, leaving Deborah to sink to the floor, her head resting on her knees as she wept.

  She had been utterly foolish. For a few wonderful moments, she had allowed herself to believe that she could be a permanent part of Lord Abernathy’s life. It was now obvious that such a thing could not be. Lord Abernathy was to return to Lady Cavendish, despite all of his words to the contrary. It was not as though Deborah understood why but she did not want to linger on such questions, knowing that they would remain unanswered. Mayhap she had never known Lord Abernathy as well as she had thought.

  How long Deborah sat there for, she did not know. Her tears continued unabated for some time, her own wretchedness pulling her into the very same shadows that had once clung to Lord Abernathy. There was no place for her here. As much as Lord Abernathy might want her to remain, it was not something she could permit herself to do. Her heart was already broken to pieces and to linger on, to watch Lord Abernathy court Lady Cavendish, was more than Deborah knew she could bear. Her time with him was over. She was no longer needed. All that was required was for her to return to the abbey.

  “Deborah!”

  Mother Superior’s lined face was warm with welcome as Deborah finally walked back through the abbey gates, her hands outstretched to greet Deborah back again.