by Rose Pearson
“He need have no fear,” he murmured to himself, unaware of how Miss Edgington’s eyes lingered on him, her expression soft. “I shall never remove myself from his life again. Never.”
With this vowed, he suddenly became aware of Miss Edgington’s gaze and, a little embarrassed, he let his eyes fix upon hers.
“And your son knows you can be trusted, Carrington,” Miss Edgington replied, sending a wave of warmth through him with her encouraging words. “You have restored what was once broken and found your path after being lost. I know you will not stray from it again.”
“No,” he agreed, wondering silently if his path would lead him towards Miss Edgington and towards a permanence with her that he had never even permitted himself to dream of. “This family will continue on in happiness and gladness, setting aside the darkness of the past. Just so long as you remain a part of it, Miss Edgington, then I am certain we shall all be as content as can be.”
“John?”
Stephen rose to his feet as the doctor came out from the boy’s room. He went quickly towards the doctor.
“He is as I expected,” the doctor replied, reassuringly. “His arm is broken, I fear, but it has been set and splinted. It is just as well that he was unconscious when I did so, for I fear the pain would have been great otherwise.” He shook his head, a slight grimace in his expression. “I wish that I saw the man who was responsible for such a thing, Your Grace. To have hurried away after creating such an accident is utterly reckless.”
“I agree with you, kind sir. And yet, I will not allow it to concern me,” Stephen replied, firmly. “Thank you, doctor, for what you have done. What needs to be done now?”
The doctor cleared his throat, his eyes sharp as he looked back at Stephen. “Rest,” he said, firmly. “That boy needs to remain abed for at least three days until he no longer has a pain in his head. His arm will be sore for some time, I am afraid, but it must be kept straight and he must not move it about or attempt to use it in any way, in case it should make things worse.” He lifted one shoulder. “I have left something for the pain but I would not advise using it very often as it can leave children quite stupefied for some time after – but there is nothing else I can give him.”
Stephen nodded slowly, knowing all too well the effects of laudanum. “I shall be careful.”
“And I shall gladly return to ensure that your son continues to improve,” the doctor continued, handing Stephen a card. “I am residing in the town with the intention of starting up a small practice.”
“I should be glad of it,” Stephen said at once, taking the card and holding it tightly as though he might lose it. “And I will pay whatever fee you wish for.”
The doctor chuckled. “I shall not demand too much, Your Grace,” he promised, with a small smile. “Now, unless there is anything else, I shall return to the town and return in a couple of days to check on your son.”
Stephen nodded, settling one hand on the man’s shoulder for a moment. “You have my most grateful thanks,” he said, feeling a lump beginning to form in his throat. “When your practice is near completion, I should be glad to endorse it to the townsfolk. You have done a great deal for my son and I am truly appreciative.”
“I thank you,” the doctor replied, as Stephen stepped back. “Do excuse me.”
Stephen nodded and waited until the doctor had walked the length of the hallway towards the door before hurrying into John’s bedchamber. The boy looked so small propped up against the pillows, a blanket pulled up to his shoulders. A maid was busy stoking the fire and a footman was standing nearby as though to guard the lad.
“He has only just woken, Your Grace,” the footman murmured, as Stephen drew near to sit on the edge of the bed. “Although he may have fallen asleep again.”
Stephen nodded wordlessly, his heart aching with love for his son. He settled one hand on the boy’s shoulder, fearing to find his hand under the blankets in case he might pain John’s arm accidentally. To his surprise, John’s eyes flickered open and he looked up into Stephen’s face.
“Father,” he whispered, his voice weak and tired. “I am sorry.”
“You need not worry about all that,” Stephen replied, firmly, pressing John’s shoulder lightly. “I am glad that you are safe and that you will soon recover, that is all.” He smiled reassuringly into John’s small face, seeing the relief etch itself into the boy’s features. “You must rest and have everyone waiting on you hand and foot for a few days. Does that not sound quite marvelous?”
A small smile crept across John’s expression. “It does, father,” he replied, his eyes closing again. “But I am very tired now.”
“Then sleep,” Stephen replied, quickly. “Miss Edgington will come to you soon with some broth, I believe, and you will need to take as much of it as you can.” Just as he said this, the door opened behind him and Miss Edgington walked quietly into the room, holding a small tray. With an effort, John opened his eyes again and looked at her.
“Miss Edgington,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You are here.”
“Of course I am,” Miss Edgington replied, smiling at John and then looking towards Stephen. “I have broth for you, but if you are tired….”
“I can have some,” John replied, apparently attempting to keep his eyes open so that he would not drift back to sleep. “I am a little hungry.”
Stephen got to his feet, seeing how Miss Edgington brushed the hair from John’s forehead. He was feeling such a strange, desperate longing grow within him that he knew precisely where he had to go and what he had to do. Miss Edgington looked at him in surprise, and with an effort, Stephen gave her a quick smile.
“I will leave him to rest,” he said, patting John’s shoulder. “Might I speak to you thereafter, Miss Edgington?”
“But, of course,” she agreed, throwing him a quick glance before returning her attention to John.
“Perhaps a short stroll in the gardens, whilst John rests,” he suggested, filled with a sudden, forceful hope. “I will wait for you by the front steps.”
Miss Edgington looked up at him again, but this time she held his gaze for a few moments. The gentlest of smiles appeared on her face, as though she knew, somehow, what he intended to speak to her about. “Certainly, Your Grace,” came the sweet reply. “Once John is resting, I shall join you directly.”
It did not take Stephen long to make his way to the place he knew he must go. The grave marker for Martha was still free of dirt and weeds, with the gardeners obviously taking careful consideration for such a thing as this. Stephen swallowed hard as he approached it, feeling both foolish and wise in equal measures. He knew now what was in his heart. It could not be denied, not even to himself. As much as he had tried to push Miss Edgington from him, from the very first moment they had met, she had managed to remain in his thoughts and now lingered in his affections. There was another chance for happiness for him, another chance for him to find contentment, joy and peace. All he had to do was allow himself to reach forward and grasp at it with both hands.
“Martha.” He said her name aloud, looking down at the grave marker and allowing his mind to go over all the wonderful moments he had shared with her. He had loved her dearly. She had brought two wonderful children into this world, and even when she had been taken from him, her presence lingered on. His heart still held her tightly but he did not feel the same desperation, the same broken-hearted longing, that had once filled him.
“Our son was injured today,” he said, as though she were there before him, listening to his every word. “I have brought him back to the house and he will be himself again very soon, but I would not have felt such a love for him, such a terrible fright over his whereabouts, had it not been for Miss Edgington.” A vision of her standing before him caught his mind, making him smile. “Miss Edgington had pushed me to leave my struggles behind, to set my face to the future instead of turning my head to look at the past. I have done as she has asked and, in doing so, I have found a new freedom
, Martha. I have rejected the darkness and the cloying gloom, knowing now that I need to be present and loving towards my children – to our children. You will always be with us, Martha, even though I have turned towards another. My heart is still filled with a love for you but, along with it, comes a fresh, new affection for Miss Edgington. She has become dear to me, Martha. I believe that, in some way, I hold both a love for you and a love for her within my heart. I shall never forget you. I shall never allow our children to forget you, but I will seek a new future with her by my side.” His voice became thready, his eyes burning as he looked down at the grave marker again. “It is time for me to begin my life again with another. I shall always love you. But I love Miss Edgington also.”
A long breath emitted from his frame as he lowered his head, allowing silence to fall all around him. A sense of peace crept over him as he pressed one hand to the marker, feeling the roughness of the stone beneath. It was time to allow his future to take hold. He had the opportunity to share his life with a lady who was both loving, kind and tender in every way. The lady who had shown him what he needed to do in order to pull himself from the shadows and emerge into the light. Miss Edgington had become his everything and Stephen knew that he needed her by his side.
It was some twenty minutes later by the time Stephen walked back from the grave marker. The contentment and peace in his heart had not faded in the time he had lingered there, but had, in fact, grown steadily. There was a certainty within him that he was doing right. He had to pray that Miss Edgington would be as open and as willing to, at the very least, consider what it was he hoped for. He looked towards the front of the house with expectant eyes, seeing her waiting for him there. Now he came to it. Now was the moment when he was to open his heart and show her the truth of his feelings there. He just did not know what she would say when he did so.
Chapter Seventeen
“You do not think that my father is angry with me for doing wrong?”
Jenny smiled softly at the boy she had come to love so dearly, brushing his hair from his face. “He will tell you, I am sure, that you are never to go to town alone again, but no, he is not angry with you. Rather, he is relieved that you are safe.”
“Oh.” John’s eyes were growing heavier with each second that passed, his weariness apparent. “It was something of a thump, was it not, Miss Edgington?”
Given that she had not been there to witness it, Jenny held back a small shudder and answered honestly. “I did not see what occurred but the doctor says you hit your head quite badly. You must make sure to get as much rest as you can, John, so that you can be up and about again soon. Mary will miss you, I am sure.”
John’s eyes were closed now, his breathing already labored. “Tell Mary that I shall see her very soon, once I am awake,” he murmured, his head to one side. “I must sleep now, Miss Edgington.”
She smiled at his eloquent speech, marveling at his strength despite his weariness and pain, and rose to her feet. Leaning over the boy, she kissed his cheek and felt such an affection rouse within her that it brought tears to her eyes. Blinking them back, she turned and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her.
Taking a moment, Jenny leaned back against the closed door and drew in air slowly, before letting it rattle out of her. There was a sudden nervousness within her, knowing that she had to go and speak to the Duke and that, most likely, he would be waiting for her. Ever since he had asked her to refer to him as ‘Carrington’, she had felt as though every single moment held something new within it. The looks that they shared had become more intimate of late and Jenny had to wonder if what the Duke wanted to speak with her about was about her future here at the estate. Could she allow herself to believe that there might be something in his heart for her?
Of course, it was more than a little preposterous to think that a Duke and a governess might draw near to each other, but had the Duke not said that he did not see her as merely a governess? Had he not stated that he cared more for her character than for her position?
“I shall only discover the truth if I am brave enough to speak to him about my heart,” she whispered to herself, opening her eyes and pushing herself away from the closed door. “I shall tell him that my affections are slowly growing, for I do not think that I can hold it within myself.” Nor did she think that she would be able to continue being as close to the Duke as she was at the present moment if her affections were not returned, for that would become much too difficult for her heart to bear. She would be glad to remain as the governess, but she could not draw close to the Duke, not if they were simply to remain close acquaintances. Therefore, the only choice laid out for her was to speak of her heart and pray that he might understand.
“It will take a great deal of courage,” she whispered to herself, her hands tightening together as she walked to the front of the house. “But I must force myself to speak the truth. For what can be done if I keep this knowledge to myself?”
The Duke was, as he had said, waiting patiently by the front of the house for her. He was standing at the bottom of the stone steps, looking out across the gardens, but when he looked up at her, his eyes flared with delight and a broad smile crossed his face.
“You have returned,” he said, holding out one hand to her as though she might need some assistance in making her way down the final few stairs. “And how is John?”
She took his hand at once and felt her heart explode with the simple contact of his fingers on hers. “John is resting but ate a quite a bit of broth,” she said, with a small smile as she looked into his eyes. “He will recover very quickly, I am certain. I cannot tell you just how relieved I am that he has been returned to you.”
The Duke smiled at her, grasped her fingers and looped them under his arm before letting them go. He walked with her towards the gardens, his eyes lingering on her face. “He has been returned to us, has he not?”
Jenny swallowed the ache in her throat, her heart quickening. “He is your son, Your Grace.”
“Carrington,” he reminded her, his eyes twinkling. “And yes, whilst he might be my son, he has become very dear to you, has he not?”
“I will not pretend otherwise,” she agreed, thinking fondly of both Mary and John. “They have changed from the difficult children they once were to two very sweet, charming young children that I confess I have a great love for.”
He nodded, his gaze drifting away from hers to look across the gardens. “It is a love I see in you every day,” he told her, his voice tender. “They have only progressed as much as they have because of your sweetness, Miss Edgington. Your gentleness, your courage, your love, and your fierce determination have done so much for both my children….and for me.” His steps began to slow and Jenny felt her heart begin to thump furiously, aware of how he was turning towards her, his expression growing a good deal more serious. “When I saw John today, I realized just how wise your words were, Miss Edgington. You told me that I should cherish what I have and, now, I have finally found a way to do that. If the horse had been going any faster, or if the trap had hit him harder, I do not know what I would have done if he….” He trailed off, swallowing and looking away. “I am determined to cherish what I have, Miss Edgington.”
“I know that John and Mary will delight in all the attention and all the love you can give them,” Jenny found herself saying, a slight trembling beginning to take a hold of her. Would she have to tell him that she, in her own way, had come to treasure her life here? That she held John, Mary and the Duke himself deep within her heart and had come to care for them with as much love and as much fondness as she had held for her own parents?
“Miss Edgington, I would cherish you.”
She could not breathe, the air chased from her lungs by the words spoken by the Duke. For a moment, she wondered if she had heard him correctly, and was forced to look up into the Duke’s face, wanting to see the confirmation in his eyes.
“You may think I speak too freely,” the Duke continued, his voic
e low. “But I have stood here and found myself looking into your eyes and there was nothing else that I could say.” He sighed and dropped his head. “I may have spoken too freely and in doing so, have made our circumstances more difficult than they need to be, but I must confess to you Miss Edgington, that I can feel nothing other than the deep affection in my heart for you whenever I so much as glance in your direction.”
“I – I cannot believe that I am hearing these words from your mouth,” Jenny whispered, her hands trembling as he sought hers. “This cannot be true.”
The Duke swallowed and looked away, even though his hands were now tight on hers. “Miss Edgington, if you have no such affections for me then I promise you that nothing more needs to be said. I shall not ask you to leave this place, I shall not ask you to find a new employment, for my children need you and they love you dearly.” He squeezed his eyes closed tight and let out a heavy sigh. “I could not have waited another moment to tell you this, Miss Edgington, but mayhap I have been wrong to do so.”
“No, no, you have not!” she protested at once, pressing his hands tightly and seeing his eyes open and a smile begin to spread across his face. “It is just….” She struggled to find the words, shaking her head to herself as though to clear her thoughts. “It is just that I have found it quite overwhelming, Carrington. To know that you have such affections for me when my heart and my mind is filled with you is more than I have ever imagined.”
The Duke’s eyes slowly began to warm, his smile broadening as he let go of her hands and slipped his arms about her waist, drawing her closer to him. All of Jenny’s senses flared to life, her heart beating so wildly that she was certain he could feel it. There was a sense of wonder growing in her heart at how astonishing this moment was. She felt as though the world was beginning to spin around her as she looked up into his face. Could it be true? Could the Duke care for her in the very same way as she did for him? She had never been close to a gentleman in such a way before, nor had she felt such sensations as now bound her heart. Jenny found that her hands rested on his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath. Her mind was spinning with what had just been shared between them, realizing that the future that was now awaiting her was more than she had even let herself hope for. She would not have to be separated from the children. She would never have to leave this house. This would become her home, her family. It was almost too much joy to bear.