“But the love I have for you – it consumes me. It’s everything. I felt torn at first, wondering how I could walk away from all of this to be the husband you deserve.”
Her heart stopped dead at the word husband.
“Then I was faced with the prospect of being apart from you, and I almost lost my mind. I would gladly give all of this up. If you want to go back to the Americas, I only ask that you allow me to come, too.”
“Nicholas,” she finally managed to choke. “I don’t –”
“Please,” he interrupted suddenly, desperately. “Please, don’t tell me you don’t love me. I know it took me too long to get here, but I swear to you, I will spend my life making up for the hurt I’ve caused you. Telling Robert, James, and Simon, spending the last two days getting all of my affairs in order here – it’s all been so that I can be with you completely and forever. However you want me. Wherever you are.”
“I do love you.” She sniffed, too simply to convey what she was feeling inside. “So very much.”
He reached out and clasped her cheeks.
“Thank God,” he whispered before capturing her mouth in a desperate, explosive kiss.
When he eventually let her up for air, pressing his forehead against her own, their breathing laboured, Alison was able to gather her wits enough to speak.
Though she couldn’t quite believe this was really, truly, happening, there were important things they needed to get straightened out.
“Nic, I don’t want you to go to America,” she said, and the look of pain that flashed across his face was proof, if she needed it, that he’d meant every wonderful word he’d said.
“I don’t want you to leave here, this place, this work that is so important to you.”
“But –”
She reached out and placed a finger against his lips, becoming momentarily distracted by his pupils dilating.
But before she could allow herself to be distracted by – well, that – they needed to talk.
“It’s too important,” she continued. “To you and to the people who rely on you.”
“I won’t leave them in the lurch,” he interjected. “I’ve made provisions, put people in place.”
“But they want you” she argued gently. “The Saint of St. Giles.”
He scowled at the moniker, and she laughed softly.
“This is so much a part of you, Nic. I don’t want you to leave it. I just want to be a part of it, too.”
He frowned, and she knew he was going to argue.
“I’ll never be safer than when I’m with you,” she headed off his argument before he could even make it. “And as I promised you before, I’ll never come here with anyone else.”
She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, pulling back before she could get carried away.
“Only you.”
Nic’s heart hammered with love, and pride, and every possible emotion as he watched Alison read yet another story to the children before Mrs. Cafferty and the maids bundled them all off to bed.
As soon as they were done, he pulled her along the quiet corridor to his office.
Nobody disturbed him there, and for what he had in mind, they definitely did not want to be disturbed.
Earlier Senna, James, Amelia, and Simon had arrived, and he had proudly shown them the facility that he’d walked Robert and Abigail around only hours before.
They’d all played with the children, Poppy having a grand time with girls her own age, and eaten the same simple food prepared for the children and staff.
He truly had the best of friends.
He could regret not telling them of this part of his life sooner, but Nic had learned not to live a life of regrets, and so he would focus instead on being happy in the more active role they all vowed to take in his work here.
Robert, once he’d learned that Alison had agreed to marry Nic, was happy to allow her to stay longer, knowing that Nic would take care of her like nobody else.
They’d all gone home, with yet more shouts of felicitations. The staff had taken the children to settle them for the night, and finally, Nic and Alison were alone.
As soon as Nic shut the door of his office, he pulled his fiancé into his arms and kissed her as though his life depended on it.
And so it did, in a way. His heart, his soul, his everything revolved around the woman in his arms.
“You know,” he said, sitting down in his large, leather chair, the only luxury he allowed himself here, pulling her to sit in his lap. “When we first met, it took every bit of me not to love you.”
“And now?” She grinned, the look causing desire, hot and molten, to awaken inside him.
“Now, you just take every bit of me,” he said softly.
Outside, the streets of St. Giles raged with danger, peril, and menace.
But within these walls, its children slept safe and well.
And in his office, the Saint of St. Giles set about proving to his fiancé just how much of a sinner he could be.
The End.
Epilogue
“Papa, please, please let me go. Sarah’s father is a boring old fuddy-duddy. Nothing is going to happen.”
“I seem to recall you calling me a boring old fuddy-duddy,” Nic whispered in Alison’s ear as they watched the exchange between Poppy and James.
“I cannot believe you still bring that up, ten years later.” She rolled her eyes before relaxing against him, his arm moving at once to gather her closer.
“Poppy, I told you already, I will speak to Lord Fantan and make my decision then. You’ve plenty of time to visit Bath, you’re only eighteen.”
Poppy opened her mouth, no doubt to argue again, but seemed to think better of it.
And with a smile on her face that her adoptive father, as well as all of her uncles, had always been powerless against, she leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, Papa.” She grinned before hurrying off, her blonde curls bouncing in the weak, winter sun.
“I didn’t say, yes,” James grumbled as Senna reached out to pat his hand.
“You might as well have, darling,” she laughed, one eye on their boisterous twins who were engaging in an ever-rougher stick fight. “Thomas, Rose, please be careful,” she called.
Thomas nodded dutifully, but Rose, her red hair the exact shade of her mama’s, rolled her eyes and kept going.
She was a termagant, of that there was no doubt.
Lottie rushed over with an oversized book in her hand and immediately plonked herself beside her Aunt Amelia, who leaned forward to admire whatever it was the studious girl had discovered amongst its pages.
Lottie showed every sign of being as bookish as the countess, whereas her own children, Michael and Helena, were more interested in hunting and fishing.
Amelia blamed their father, who was currently holding court with a group of the children. Michael and Helena, Robert’s son Jacob, along with Nic and Alison’s daughters Lily and Ella were in Simon’s thrall completely as he recounted the tale of a tiger attack on one of Amelia’s expeditions, complete with re-enactment of said attack so they could all take turns pretending to shoot him.
Nic and Alison’s son, who was shier than his sisters, sat by a small pond, riveted by the fish his Uncle Robert was pointing out.
They had all travelled to Montvale to enjoy some time together before James and Senna took Poppy to London for her come out.
They would all go to Town for the Season, of course.
Ostensibly to lend Poppy support and ensure she was a success.
Though the ladies were well aware the gentlemen were going more to keep an eye on her possible suitors than anything else.
Abigail appeared, calling the group inside to ready themselves for dinner.
Though it was winter, it had been quite mild, and the weather was just starting to cool.
The children all dashed ahead, their nurses and governesses awaiting their arrival.
Once they’d eaten,
their respective parents would put them to bed.
It was always a chaotic, noisy, but fun-filled experience, each couple shirking the ton tradition of leaving the care of their children to the staff.
Later, when the children were sleeping, and the gentlemen had finished their port, the eight friends gathered in the drawing room of Montvale Hall.
The room was decorated just as it had been ten years ago.
Given that the late dowager duchess had loved the room like this, Abigail had been loathe to change it.
“It’s hard to believe,” she said now, “that it was so long ago that I first came here.”
“Yes, and Robert was such a grumpy bastard,” James laughed, earning a playful slap from his wife.
“A monster through and through,” Nic agreed with a grin.
“Anyone would have looked monstrous to you, Saint Nic,” Simon teased. “You even gave our Angel here a run for his money in the goodness stakes.”
“And anyone would have looked angelic next to your devilish ways,” Rob said.
“I wonder, will any of our boys take after me in that respect?” Simon asked thoughtfully, earning laughing denials and objections from the rest of the group.
“Well, whatever way they turn out, we can only hope that they remain as close as they are now. That they remain a family. And that, whether a sinner or a saint, they always stick together,” Nic said, his calm voice quieting the faux argument.
Above them, their children slept soundly, each of them destined to carry on their fathers’ legacies. Some of them sinners. And some of them saints. But all of them determined to stick together through thick and thin, as their fathers had before them.
The End.
Thank you for reading The Saint of St. Giles! If you enjoyed this story please leave a quick review on your favorite book retailer. Reviews help other readers determine to try my books or not, and I love reading what you thought! If you want to learn about my new releases, or when my books go on sale, please follow me on BookBub, or subscribe to my newsletter.
As a special thank you to my wonderful readers, I want to offer you a free exclusive copy of my Christmas novella, His Yuletide Bride. Click here to grab your copy. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for your support!
Keep reading for a special preview of The Monster of Montvale of Hall, the first book in the Saints & Sinners series!
The Monster of Montvale Hall
By
Nadine Millard
Prologue
“Stop running so fast. I can’t keep up.”
Robert Forsythe ignored the cries of his little sister, choosing instead to increase his pace as he ran toward the river.
“Ignore her,” he yelled to his fellow escapees, his three best friends from Eton. Each of them the son and heir of a powerful Peer. Each of them determined to enjoy this precious time outside where they didn’t have to be students, didn’t have to be heirs to powerful titles, and didn’t have to learn anything of their future responsibilities.
While staying at Robert’s home for the Easter break from school, they all wanted to just be children. Just for a little while. Even though they were on the unsteady cusp of manhood.
And Robert didn’t want Gina ruining it for them, slowing them down. It was irritating in the extreme to have his stubborn little sister following them around. James’s brother, Thomas, was only a year or two older than Gina and he hadn’t come after them. He’d stayed behind, like he’d been told to do. Gina would never do as she was told!
It had been storming for days, wind and rain lashing against the window panes of Montvale Hall, making it impossible for the boys to get outside.
The young marquess had never been one for sitting still and had been driven mad being cooped up inside. Though nobody could ever say that the Hall, the seat of his father, The Duke of Montvale, was small enough to feel cooped up in.
Still, there was only so much sport to be had in the cavernous halls filled with irreplaceable family heirlooms.
Even today, the winds were still a force to be reckoned with. But since it was dry, the duchess had agreed to let the boys out for a little while.
“Stay away from the river,” she had warned, her tone brooking no argument.
The river current was, according to Mama, dangerously strong after inclement weather and so, of course, that was the first place a group of fourteen-year-old boys would head.
Growing up rarely hearing the word “no” lent them all a false sense of confidence in their own sensibilities.
“Bobby, please.”
Robert swung back to face his sister, his grey eyes flashing with the frustration that only an older brother could feel.
“Gina, get back to the house,” he yelled over the howling of the wind.
The sky had darkened ominously even as they’d tramped across the grounds of the estate.
“Robert, perhaps we should go back.”
Robert turned to face his closest friend, the future Marquess of Avondale, with a grimace.
“Don’t be silly, James. We’ve been stuck indoors for days.”
“The weather is turning quite badly, and Gina shouldn’t be out in this.”
Robert’s temper flared. No, Gina shouldn’t be out in this. But Gina wasn’t supposed to be out in this.
“The others are gone ahead,” Robert said mutinously, pointing to where his two other close friends, Simon and Nicholas, could be seen headed toward the brook.
James looked hesitantly from Gina to their friends.
“You go ahead,” he said finally. “I’ll walk Gina back to the Hall and come back to you.”
Robert felt an immediate swell of anger. It was so typical of James, the golden boy. Always doing what he should. Always doing what was right.
Robert hated that James made him feel lacking or not good enough.
“No, she’s my baby sister,” he bit out, resentful of the duty that fell to him.
“I’m not a baby,” Gina shouted mutinously, and Robert had to smile in spite of himself.
In truth, even though he felt like he could happily ring her neck at times, he doted on Gina and had his mood not been so foul from being stuck inside for days at a time, he likely would have indulged her from the start.
“Gina, if I let you come, you must stay by my side. Do you understand?”
His sister’s light grey eyes, so like his own, lit up at once, and he allowed himself a brief smile.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” James insisted.
Robert’s stomach flip-flopped with uneasiness. Mama would have his head if she found out he’d allowed Gina to accompany them to the river – they weren’t supposed to be headed there, either.
Nonetheless, he had always looked after her, and he would do so now.
“Come, James, by the time we get her back to the Hall the others will be wanting to return. We can watch her well enough.”
James hesitated again, annoying Robert once more.
In truth, he and James were the best of friends with only months between them in age. But James was just so good all the time. Mama often joked that Robert was the anti-James, though Robert wasn’t sure how much she was actually joking.
Robert’s mother was James’s godmother. And when James’s mother had died in childbirth whilst the boys were toddlers, the Duchess of Montvale had become a sort of surrogate aunt to James, and he spent more time at Montvale than at his own future seat, Avondale Abbey.
Fathers, the boys had been informed, were not cut out to look after children.
Finally, after what seemed an age, James relented.
“Fine, come along then Gina.” James smiled indulgently at his little honorary cousin. “If you get soaked to the bone or catch a chill, we shall just blame Robert.”
Gina clapped her hands excitedly and then dashed off after Simon and Nicholas.
“She will be a handful when she’s older,” Robert said, not entirely sure what that meant, but he’d heard
his father say so enough times to think it must be true.
“Yes, and she will also be your problem,” James said with a laugh.
The two boys raced off after Gina, pushing, shoving, and jostling each other as they went.
They reached the bridge over the river just as the first, fat raindrops began to fall.
“Blast it all,” Robert said.
“We must go back,” Simon called from where he sat on the bridge with Nicholas, their legs dangling carelessly over the river.
The water was rushing furiously under the bridge, as high as Robert had ever seen it, and that feeling of uneasiness grew tenfold.
All of a sudden, it really didn’t feel like a good idea to have Gina here.
“Yes,” he agreed swiftly. “We must. Come, Gina.”
Robert darted his glance around but couldn’t see his sister.
The uneasiness grew instantly to foreboding.
“Gina!” he called, and James, Nicholas, and Simon began looking around, too.
“Gina, where are you?” he called.
“I’m here, you goose.”
Robert whipped around, and an immediate fear clawed at him.
Gina was sitting atop a low branch of one of the many trees that bordered the river.
Robert had often stood on the same branch and jumped into the cool water of the river on hot summer days.
But it was far too dangerous for seven-year-old Gina to be on it, especially alone. And especially in the middle of a storm.
“Gina, come down here at once,” he shouted, dashing over to the tree. “It isn’t safe.”
His impertinent little sister merely rolled her eyes.
“You always do it,” she argued stubbornly.
“I am older,” Robert said. “And the river is dangerous today.”
“You sound just like Mama,” Gina laughed.
“If you don’t come down this instant, I will come up there and fetch you myself,” Robert warned.
“Oh, Bobby –” How could a little girl sound so long-suffering? “You are so –”
It was a second, a split second. But long enough for Robert to know that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
The Saint of St. Giles Page 20