“And take him below stairs and secure him tightly,” Francis finished, as two footmen hauled Mr. Jefferson out of his chair. “You are to stand guard over him until he is taken away. Send the constabulary to me the moment they arrive. We all will have a good deal to say to them, I am quite sure.”
Mr. Jefferson whimpered, a pathetic creature now. “Please,” he whined, looking at Lord Rapson desperately. “I did not mean – surely, you cannot….it may be the gallows!”
Lord Rapson turned his head away from Mr. Jefferson, clearly disgusted by the fellow. “Take him,” he muttered, as the men moved towards the door. “I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Jefferson.”
Finally, the door shut behind the offending gentleman and the occupants of the room gave a collective sigh of relief. Francis felt his legs a little weak and immediately offered them all a brandy, which was accepted although the dowager insisted on having a tea also tray sent, despite the hour.
“This was not what we had intended, as you know,” Francis murmured, handing Miss Patterson a small brandy. “I was meant to reveal to Mr. Jefferson that this had been nothing more than a ruse. He was meant to realize that he had revealed his hand not only to me but also to my mother waiting outside. Our influence and our threats were meant to be enough to send him away and, if that had not been the case, then I would have settled his debts with his creditors and taken them on myself. That would have been enough, surely, to stop him from –”
“My lord.”
Miss Patterson put her good hand on his arm, preventing him from finishing his sentence.
“You need not go over it again, my lord,” she said, gently. “What happened was not what any of us expected, I will admit, but we have brought Mr. Jefferson to justice regardless.” She glanced down at her bloodied arm, which the dowager was carefully cleaning. “I may have sustained an injury, but I will recover fully, in time, I am quite sure. You need not feel any guilt, my lord. I am glad it is all at an end, and I am glad that I was able to protect my brother.”
Lord Rapson shook his head. “I ought to have been the one protecting you, my dear sister.”
Francis, who had been unable to take his eyes from Miss Patterson, finding her both extraordinary and utterly wonderful, let out a sigh of relief that took the tension from his limbs. “You were both in danger from a very dangerous man. I know he cannot hurt either of you again and that does bring me a good deal of relief, I will admit.”
Miss Patterson smiled at him, wincing just a little as the dowager dabbed at the wound. “Thank you for all you have done, Lord Catesby. I am sorry that I did not come to you from the first. Mayhap I should have done.”
The dowager glanced up, her expression a little guilty. “And mayhap I ought not to have encouraged Miss Patterson not to do so, Francis. I thought you too caught up with all other manner of things.”
Francis shook his head, a small smile capturing his lips. “Mama, you too need not worry. I think that it has all ended quite well, Miss Patterson’s injury aside. I just pray that this may mean that you shall begin to absent yourself from my house and my study a little more?”
His mother laughed, brightening the mood all the more. “Indeed, Francis, I shall. Thank you for your understanding.”
At that moment, the door opened, and the butler announced both the doctor and the constabulary had arrived. Both parties clearly willing to answer the summons of an Earl with the greatest of speed.
“I shall leave you with the good doctor,” Francis murmured, as Lord Rapson got up to speak to the two men from the constabulary. “But I think it best if you remain at Catesby House for some time, in order to recover yourself. What say you?”
Her eyes glowed despite the pain. “You are most kind, my lord.”
His smile grew slowly. “I believe we have some things to say to each other, my dear Miss Patterson. Perhaps tomorrow?”
She nodded slowly, her cheeks a little dark. “Tomorrow would suit me very well, Lord Catesby. I thank you.”
Epilogue
Despite the urging of her brother and the dowager, Rebecca did not wish to remain in her bed for any length of time. She had slept wonderfully well, even though she had refused the doctor’s suggestion of laudanum, her thoughts no longer worried over Mr. Jefferson and what he might do next.
She did not regret for a single moment her actions of last evening. She had seen the knife, seen Mr. Jefferson lunge for her brother and had reacted out of instinct. The pain of the knife slicing into her arm had taken her breath from her body, the sheer weight of Mr. Jefferson landing on her as they had fallen to the floor adding even more to her distress, but within the hour, everything had seemed to be a good deal brighter. Her arm had been cleaned and dressed, her brother and Lord Catesby had talked to the constabulary about all that had occurred, and she and the dowager had sunk back into their chairs and drank a nice hot cup of tea, finally free of it all.
“Do stop worrying, Mark,” she muttered, seeing her brother hesitate in the doorway of the drawing room. “I am not an invalid. My arm is already improving. You see?” She lifted it and attempted to wave at him, only for a stab of pain to shoot through her. Wincing, she set it down gently in her lap, seeing Mark’s concerned expression.
“Are you sure you are quite all right?” he asked, gently, coming to sit by her. “After last evening, I thought you might be quite overcome with exhaustion.”
She smiled into his anxious face. “I feel quite free,” she replied, quietly. “My heart is glad; my mind is filled with nothing but delight. I do not have to worry about Jefferson any longer. He can never come near us, never attempt to hurt either one of us ever again.”
Her brother nodded, his expression a little rueful. “Indeed. Although I shall have to find out which maid it was that was so willing to tell Mr. Jefferson such details and to go through my personal things in order to give him the information he required.”
Rebecca nodded her expression a little sad. “Foolish girl. I do not believe she had any true understanding of what she was doing.”
“Regardless, I will have to send her away,” Mark said, firmly. “No references, nothing. I will not have such disrespect shown to me.”
Understanding, Rebecca patted his shoulder gently. “I know, Mark. Now, why do you not go in search of a good book for me to read since I am supposed to be resting?”
He chuckled and got to his feet. “You really do not wish to be fussed over now, do you?”
“No,” Rebecca said, sternly. “I do not. Now, off with you.”
Her brother laughed and quit the room, promising to be back in a few minutes with at least four books for her to choose from. Rebecca laughed softly and closed her eyes to enjoy the peace for a moment – only for a gentle hand to touch her shoulder.
Jumping, she opened her eyes expecting to see her brother had sneaked back in to again ensure she was all right, only to see Lord Catesby looking down at her. His expression was one of tenderness, sending a flurry of warmth all through her.
“My dear lady,” he murmured, quietly. “Might I sit with you for a moment?”
Her throat was suddenly dry. “But of course, Lord Catesby,” she replied, in a voice that did not sound like her own. So much had changed over the last two days, so much had developed within her own heart, that she felt almost nervous to be alone with him.
Sitting down next to her, Lord Catesby glanced at her arm. “How are you this afternoon, my dear?”
Smiling at her caring expression, she looked into his eyes and found him looking back at her with a soft smile on his face. “I am doing very well, I thank you,” she replied, her eyes drifting to his lips for a moment as a flush went straight through her. “You have been quite wonderful, Lord Catesby, truly.”
“No.” He picked up her good hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss to the back of it. Sparks shot through her.
“You are wonderful, Miss Patterson.”
“Rebecca,” she found herself saying, suddenly
desperate to have such an intimacy from his lips. Lips she had already kissed a good many times. “Please, do call me Rebecca.”
The delight in his eyes glowed. “Rebecca,” he murmured, softly. “I did say to you last evening that I had a good many things to say to you, but now that I am with you, I find my heart filled with one single desire that eclipses all other.”
Swallowing, her stomach filled with butterflies. “If it is that you wish to court me, then I will gladly accept,” she replied, her voice barely audible. “I believe I have already made my affection for you more than evident.”
He chuckled softly. “I believe I too have done the very same,” he replied, his hand now holding hers tightly. “And yet now that you are to remain here until you have recovered, I find the idea of letting you return to your brother’s home almost torture. It pains me to think of you leaving my side, not when we have experienced so very much.” Smiling at her still, he drew in a breath and ran his fingers down the curve of her cheek, forcing her to catch her breath. “I would rather it, Rebecca, that you would never leave.”
Her heart burst from her chest, soaring towards the skies. It was as though, with the departure of Mr. Jefferson from her life, that she could finally see what it was that she wanted, what it was she desired. This gentleman here, the one who had clearly loved her for so long despite his determination not to do so, was becoming more and more to her with each passing minute. Her emotions were stirred every time he came into the room, every time his lips pressed to hers. She did not want to leave, she realized, but that would mean….
“I would have you as my wife, Rebecca,” Lord Catesby finished, quietly. “If you wish it, you can reside with my mother until the time passes for your fortune to become your own. I know that is important to you and I would never ask you to wed me before that time.”
She shook her head immediately, and the light faded from his eyes. He thought she was refusing him when the opposite was quite true. “My dear Lord Catesby,” she replied, leaning a little closer to him. “My fortune matters not. It is no longer what I think of, no longer what I fear I must protect. My heart has begun to call for you. You asked me to trust you, and that is what I am doing. I know you will treat me with all kindness, with all care, and therefore my fortune matters not a jot.”
His eyes widened for a moment before his lips tugged into a smile. “Does that mean, then, that you will marry me, Rebecca?” he asked, hope filling his expression. “Will you be my bride? My heart has been filled with none but you since the first day I saw you. No longer do I have to hide my heart and ignore my feelings. They are all for you, my dear lady. I love you with every part of my being.”
Wishing she could fling herself into his arms, Rebecca contented herself with pressing his hand tightly with her own. “I love you in return, Lord Catesby. I will be your bride. I will be your wife. And I will love you every day of my life.”
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Sunny Brooks is a little bit city, a little bit country, but a whole lot of love! For several years she worked in the theater, producing period plays and productions, on everything from scrappy little stages to sold out amphitheaters. Through it all, she has found that one thing remains the same, a fantastic story is always moving regardless of budget, production quality, or costumes.
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When she is not writing, she attempts to be as good to her horses as they are to her, tries desperately to master the art of baking pies, and spends a whole lot of time reading (you guessed it) romantic novels!
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House of Catesby series - Sunny Brooks
Lady Emily’s Escape (Book 1)
Charles and the Intruder (Book 2)
The Mysterious Lord Livingstone (Book 3)
Lady Sophia and the Proper Gardner (Book 4)
Mr. Henry Catesby and the Rebellious Redhead (Book 5)
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Dilemma of the Earl’s Heart: House of Catesby - Book 6 Page 8