“Think only of the past as its remembrance gives
you pleasure.”
—Pride and Prejudice
“GOODNESS me.” Charley jumped up from his bed when Nicholas entered the small chamber adjoining his own rooms. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Lord Nick. Didn’t hear you come in last night, or I would’ve performed my duties.”
“I didn’t retire here after all, Charley. I stayed with my father.” At the inquisitive gaze of his faithful young batman, Nicholas forced himself to continue. “He is gone. He died just before dawn.”
“Oh, Lord Nick.”
“I know, Charley, I know.” Nicholas accepted the embrace of his young charge, and they said nothing for long moments.
“I am glad then that I did not bother him with the ruckus going all around us yesterday,” Charley said into Nicholas’s shoulder.
“What ruckus?”
“Well, I don’t know the whole of it, sir. Only that the overdressed frog left without a word the night before last, and a female went with him or after him.”
“Which female, Charley?” asked Nicholas. He felt a certain stabbing sensation in his chest. “I don’t know. One of the ladies I think, sir.”
“Mr. Roberts, the fever has broken, finally. Your wife, I hope, with good care will recover. You will have to be patient, as she will be quite weak after such a long illness,” Charlotte said, and removed the compress from the woman’s forehead.
It was very late, or rather, early, almost dawn. The distraught man had brought his wife to Charlotte’s old cottage yesterday evening in the back of a crude wagon.
“I shouldn’t have brought her in the wagon. It was too hard a ride for her. But I couldn’t just stand by and watch her get worse,” he said.
“No, Mr. Roberts. Don’t blame yourself. I am sorry your note wasn’t brought down from the abbey. You are lucky you found me here at all. I was packing a few last things before my journey.” She looked down at the patient, who was sleeping peacefully for the first time in a fortnight. “I will send for Wyndhurst’s finest carriage to transport her back to your home. And I will send Doro to nurse her. She will also be able to help you with your children and your meals. This will be a gift from me to you. Please don’t say no.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Owen Roberts said, bowing awkwardly. “There’s not many from the abbey who would lower themselves to care for my Sally. And I have naught to give you for me thanks,” Mr. Robertses concluded.
“I am pleased to be at your service. Let’s allow her to rest awhile. She is very comfortable here.”
“If it be all right with you, Lady Charlotte, I would like to stay with my Sally until the carriage comes.”
“Of course, Mr. Roberts,” she said, rising to leave.
Doro was taking too long, Charlotte thought an hour later, while pacing the front room. It was almost full light and she had sent the maid to Wyndhurst’s stables to make arrangements with the stable master. He was to bring to the cottage the carriage for the Robertses. The gig she had ordered for her own use was to be brought to the cottage as well, instead of to the abbey as she had arranged yesterday. Charlotte looked at the letter she had propped on the bookshelf for Nicholas.
When she had left for the cottage last night, the abbey had been at sixes and sevens with the disappearance of Lady Susan and Alexandre. She had tried to calm them, explaining that her cousin had quit Wiltshire alone on an errand for her of the utmost importance. But that only served to make Susan’s grandmother more hysterical. The old lady left in her carriage, wailing and bemoaning her worries and calling Alexandre every vile name she could concoct. Only the dowager duchess had remained calm, assuring the Dowager Countess of Elltrope that the family would employ every effort to find Lady Susan and help repair any damage to the young lady’s reputation. Nicholas had been locked up in the library, blissfully unaware of the events.
The first letter Charlotte had written to Nicholas had been hurt and angry. The second, less so. The third was devoid of any emotion. It gave the address of her father’s old solicitor in London and an assurance that she had made arrangements in town for a comfortable apartment and that he was not to worry about her furthermore. She expressed her sadness over his father’s impending demise, and wished him a happy future in Paris. It was everything proper. There was only the smallest part of her that dared hope that he would fly to the solicitor in London and demand to see her. She squashed the thought each time it raised its relentless head.
Her thoughts fled at the appearance of the gig in the yard. With a sigh, she went to the front entrance, where her trunk lay waiting, and opened the door to her future.
“Mr. Coburn! What are you doing here? Where is the driver I requested?”
“Lady Charlotte, I am at your service.” Mr. Coburn removed his hat and bowed down before her. “The duchess required Mr. Harper for some pressing errands this morning. I was planning a day trip to London this week or next, as the duke has asked me to attend to several things in town. I volunteered to drive you to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.”
She didn’t trust the man, never had. But he returned her gaze with a pleasant, open expression. She could hardly refuse. It was a few short hours to London. She would take Doro, and arrange for another maid from the abbey to help Owen’s wife. Mr. Coburn got down from the gig and began loading her trunk in the back.
“Well, then, Lady Charlotte, let me help you up.”
There was something wrong. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach. She wouldn’t go with this man.
“And where is the carriage for Mr. and Mrs. Roberts?”
“The other driver will be along any moment for them.”
He urged her by the elbow before she halted. Why couldn’t the other driver take her to London? “I am sorry to force a delay, sir. However, I must wait for Doro.”
“There’s no room for her, my dear Lady Charlotte. Her large bulk would never fit. Come, come let us be off now. If we wait much longer it will be full dark before we arrive.”
In her distress, Charlotte did not notice a lone rider coming over the small hill in front of the cottage.
“You there, wait,” Nicholas called out on his approach.
A moment later he verified it was indeed Charlotte near the gig with Mr. Coburn. What the devil? Something was very wrong.
Nicholas’s horse slid to a halt in front of them. He remained on the animal, the pistol he always carried in the saddle near his hand.
“What the devil is going on here, Coburn?”
“Why, nothing out of the ordinary, my lord,” replied Coburn, with an easy smile. “I am escorting your wife to London, per her request.”
“Escorting my wife to London? Per her request? I think not. Charlotte?” Nicholas asked, looking at his wife.
“That is partially correct. I had made plans to depart. But not with Mr. Coburn. I’ve left you a letter in the cottage.” She avoided his gaze. “I believe I will wait for the driver to arrive with the other carriage, Mr. Coburn, if you don’t mind. I would prefer to go with him and I will wait for Doro too.”
“But, my dear Lady Char—” began Mr. Coburn. “Charlotte, get away,” Nicholas shouted as he fired his pistol before the steward’s weapon was cocked and visible.
The man yelped, and made an attempt to grab her, his hand bleeding. She evaded his grasp and fled to the safety of the cottage.
Nicholas leapt off his horse, grabbed the pistol that Coburn had dropped on the ground, and pointed it at the man.
“Mr. Coburn… How kind of you to offer to help my wife.”
“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with,” said the man.
“If I had wanted to kill you, you would be dead, my friend. As it is, you are lucky I didn’t maim you in a more satisfying part of your anatomy,” Nicholas said, looking at the man’s crotch.
“I guess I should be thankful, my lord.”
“You will refer to me as ‘Your Grace’ henceforth, Coburn. As of a few hours ago, my title changed, as will yours. Now, I will give you precisely one minute to tell me what you were planning to do with my wife and about the embezzlement of funds from the Cavendish holdings,” he said. “And remember, please, that the penalties for lying to a duke will not improve your lot.”
The steward kept his gaze riveted to the ground.
“All right, Mr. Coburn. What have you to say?” Nicholas said, pulling his pocket watch from his pocket.
“Nothing, my… sir.”
“I shall help you along then. According to Wyndhurst’s ledgers, you have become rich, in my estimates, siphoning off thousands of pounds annually from the abbey alone. Actually I am amazed you still dare to be in Wiltshire. I was certain you had hightailed it out of here once you learned I was locked in the library. But then, perhaps I have caught you just as you were leaving? Planning to take my wife too for extra insurance, were you?”
“Your brother, he is the guilty party, not me.” This was going to be easier than he thought. Self-incrimination was a beautiful thing.
“Perhaps you are correct, Mr. Coburn. However, he is not here. And he was not the one who was about to put a pistol to my wife.”
Nicholas heard a sound from the doorway and did a double take upon sighting the form of Owen Roberts. “I won’t even ask what you are doing here, Owen. Your timing is impeccable.”
“Glad to be of service. I heard your question to Coburn, here, and thought you might want to know that there’s been some gossip in the village, there has. Seems someone heard that Coburn bought a prettyish sort of estate for his, er, his mammy in the next county. Mr. Coburn is a kindhearted soul to be providin’ for his mammy, don’t you think?”
Charlotte was peeking from behind the large man.
“That’s an out and out lie—” said Coburn.
“Not another word,” said Nicholas. “Owen, find some rope to bind Coburn’s hands, will you?”
“I tell you, it is your brother who is guilty. This was his idea,” Coburn whined. “But perhaps we can work something out, Your Grace. Surely you would not want to implicate your own brother. I would be willing—”
“I am sure you would be, Coburn,” interrupted Nicholas. “However, I shall leave it to the magistrate to decide. Until then, you shall spend a night in The Quill & Dove’s strong room.”
Owen was tasked with securing Coburn’s hands with a bit of rope. Charlotte disappeared for a moment and returned to wrap a small piece of cloth with ointment on Coburn’s hand.
“It is just a flesh wound, Mr. Coburn. You are lucky. It should heal in a fortnight,” she said.
“All right, enough lollygagging, Coburn. Into the gig, now. That’s a good man,” Nicholas said, then turned to Owen. “Will you take him, then?”
Charlotte spoke up. “I see Doro coming, Mr. Roberts. I will have her stay with Mrs. Roberts until your return.”
“All right,” Owen replied.
“After he’s secured, may I count on you to find the magistrate and tell him what happened? I will call on him tomorrow morning after I arrange for my father’s burial.”
Owen clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, that I am. There’s been no’ a moment to say it.”
Nicholas accepted Owen’s firm handshake and avoided the man’s gaze. “Thank you.”
Owen urged the horse forward, and Nicholas turned in time to overhear his wife’s explanations to her maid. Doro shook her head and clucked as she entered the cottage, murmuring her horror at the morning’s events and promising to watch over Sally Roberts.
Nicholas strode over to Charlotte, who stood with her back to him. He resisted the urge to place his hands on her shoulders.
“Did I understand correctly, Nicholas? When did your father die?”
“Very early this morning.”
Her shoulders began to shake, and he turned her and pulled her into his arms. She cried and then shook her head, pulling away from his embrace. “I should be comforting you.” She wiped her hands across her tear-stained face.
“You’ve earned the right to a good cry, after what Coburn did.” Nicholas fingered his breast pocket. “I’m sorry Charlotte, I dressed in haste, and have no handkerchief to give you. Damn Coburn’s hide. I lost ten years of my life when I saw him reach for his pistol.”
“I guess that will be the last time he draws on a Rifleman,” she said, smiling through her tears. He made a motion for the cottage door. “Let me retrieve a handkerchief from your maid.”
“I have one in my pocket.” She drew forth a large handkerchief. The white-on-white embroidered initials on it surprised him. “Why, this is one of my own,” he said. “How fortunate.”
“I could not bear to return it to you. You lent it to me long ago.”
He took it from her and dried her tears, then forced her to blow her nose. She did so in a loud, childlike fashion.
“Will you accompany me back to the abbey, Charlotte?” He hesitated. “You weren’t really leaving for London, were you?”
“I thought it was for the best,” she said, not looking at him. “But I will not leave right away. I will stay for your father’s funeral, of course. I would not be so disrespectful to his memory. He was the kindest of men. But after, when you plan your own departure—”
“There you are!” shouted Charley, coming down the rise overmounted on a huge chestnut gelding.
Nicholas had to grab the reins when Charley could not bring the animal to a stop.
“You are needed at once, Lord Nick, I mean ‘Your Grace.’ “ The boy was completely out of breath. “Her Grace is in such a state. Stevens sent me to find you, and to ask Lady Charlotte, I mean Her Gr—, oh, you know who I mean, to bring some smelling salts. Oh, do hurry, please, afore she tears the abbey down with her screamin’.”
Nicholas turned to Charlotte, shaking his head. “Will this day never end? It is only eight o’clock in the morning, and yet it seems like it should be nightfall. We will continue our conversation a bit later,” he said, taking her arm to urge her toward the abbey. “But Charlotte, promise me you will not make any plans to leave before we do so. Come, it’s time to face the worst of it.”
“You!” his stepmother shrieked as Nicholas entered the elegant sitting room off the duchess’s bedchamber. Both Edwin and her lady’s maid had to physically restrain her from attacking him. She pointed an accusing finger at Nicholas. “You dare to show your face in my rooms? You, the murderer of your own father. And you,” she said, looking beyond his shoulder to Charlotte. “You vulgar little French mushroom. I knew you would be the death of him. My dear, beloved Richard,” she continued, and then crumpled onto the chaise longue. The maid handed her mistress a new handkerchief.
Nicholas looked down at her. She made for such a pathetic creature. The duchess had seemed to be made of steel will and unquestionable authority when she had moved into the abbey so many years ago. He had tried so hard, for a decade, to gain her approval, a feat that a young boy of eight had not known was unattainable. And now, lying before him, she was just an old woman, filled with nothing but hatred and venom. He felt only pity.
“Madam, I shall choose to ignore your unfortunate comments as you are consumed with grief. However, I must ask you to exert some effort to regain a measure of sanity in the presence of others. If that cannot be accomplished, then I must ask your maid and Stevens to leave us.”
Stevens bowed, and the maid curtsied her acquiescence. “Already giving orders are you, Your Grace?” Edwin said. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,” Nicholas replied. “Do you have difficulty comprehending why, Edwin?”
His half brother looked at him through half-closed eyes. “Why, I have never had trouble following orders. Quite to the contrary. I have been obeying our father’s orders since birth; a trait I thought we shared. But clearly, I am very much mistaken. Now that our father is gone, you will break all your vows to him and ruin us all because of your ignorance.”
Nicholas looked at Edwin’s cynical, pompous mask and turned to Stevens and the maid. With a nod, he dismissed them and returned his attention to his half brother.
“Edwin,” he said, and paused to collect his thoughts. “I have found, in my many years serving the Crown, that there are three kinds of evil in the world. The first type is plagued with insecurities and jealousies that lead individuals to behave badly. The second kind seems to be relentless in an attempt to acquire power and control. And finally, the third type is demonstrated in the sad cases of people who were born with criminal tendencies,” Nicholas continued. He glanced down the length of his nose to see the furious expression on Edwin’s face.
Nicholas raised his hand to stop him from speaking. “Have no fear. I will not ask you to tell me into which category you fall. The only reason I do not is because of the memory of our father.”
Nicholas caught a swift, dark movement from the corner of his eye. His stepmother had hurled herself headfirst from the chaise longue and was now barreling into his stomach. He tried to catch her thin arms as she struck his chest with her fists.
“You stupid ox,” she screamed at him. “You dare to call Edwin evil? You are the devil incarnate. My dear Richard is not even cold on his deathbed and already you dare to try to take control of the family and insult my son, who is your superior in every conceivable way. I knew you would break all the promises you made as soon as you came back. You are nothing but a bad seed that should never have been born. You killed your father with your scandalous marriage to this—this penniless foreign nobody with pretensions of grandeur. Let me go! Or am I next on your list?”
Nicholas released her and took a step back. “Madam, it was not my intention to hurt you. As long as you can restrain yourself there will be no further need for me to do it for you.”
“Your Grace, may I offer you some laudanum for relief?” Charlotte asked quietly. She had been one step behind him all this time.
“You! Why I wouldn’t accept one drop of anything from you. You have been in league with this demon all along. All those potions and concoctions you gave dear Richard. If there was any justice I would have both of you before the magistrate on charges of conspiracy to murder my husband.”
Charlotte stepped back and looked at the carpet. There was something about her graceful posture and the lovely tilt of her head, that made Nicholas want to take her in his arms and spirit her away from the evil that permeated the walls of this cold abbey.
Suddenly, she tilted her head back and looked at him. She had the most trusting, loving look on her face. She radiated goodness. It hardened his resolve.
“Madam, my grandmother and Mr. Llewellyn were with me very early this morning, just prior to the time of my father’s death,” he paused to take a deep breath. “They were called in to witness an addendum to his last will and testament. I have asked the vicar to come later this afternoon to discuss the changes with you so you will not be surprised during the formal reading of the document following the funeral three days hence.” He stopped when he felt a small, warm hand curl into his own. He realized his fingers were clenched and cold. “But I do not want you to live in suspense and worry. You and Edwin are to remove to Carston Hall in Yorkshire-”
“Why am I not surprised that you would exile us to the cold, boggy north?” Edwin interrupted.
“I chose Carston because it is the estate’s second-largest property. If you would prefer, I will allow you to choose the smaller manor house in Shropshire.”
“Well, Mother dear, I suppose we must be grateful for the unexampled kindness His Grace is seeing fit to bestow on us. I for one will enjoy watching from afar the total ruin of the Knight family fortune. Although, I expect with Mr. Coburn remaining as the competent steward, it will take longer than expected. May I be permitted to ask Your Grace, if we will be allotted our own portion of funds to control? At least we will be able to invest wisely to ensure our own future comfort and well-being,” he said with an air of supreme confidence.
“I am again sorry to burst the bubble of your illusions, Edwin, but your Mr. Coburn is, at this very moment, cooling his heels in the strong room of The Quill & Dove. There is the matter of many thousands of pounds missing from our estates, which you and Mr. Coburn will be required to explain,” Nicholas said, before staring hard at Edwin. “Now, Edwin. I would not have you misunderstand me on this last point. You and your mother will be given a generous stipend each month that you shall not exceed. Have no doubts that no debts of yours shall be paid that exceed the stipend. I will attempt to exonerate your name from any scandal Mr. Cobum’s actions produce. But, I will not agree to any blackmail.
“I shall forgive your gross mistakes this one time. But understand me well, if you and Her Grace,” Nicholas said, nodding toward the duchess, “behave properly, I shall reward you both with a season in town every few years or so. Make the mistake of continuing your malicious behavior, and you will reap your reward, which will include a substantial change in your standard of living. Do I make myself clear?”
The young man’s face had exhibited every color of the rainbow during Nicholas’s lecture. He was surprised Edwin had not exploded in anger. But Nicholas had underestimated his half brother’s reserves of control when self-preservation was at stake.
“And lest there be any doubt about the future, I will sign a document this morning transferring all unentailed wealth and properties to my wife upon my demise. And I daresay it goes without saying that any sudden change in my health would be investigated, starting with you both. Now, may I count on you to not make complete spectacles of yourselves by disgracing me and my wife while you stay here for the funeral?” He continued without waiting for an answer. “For the next time either of you utters an ungracious word to me or my wife, I shall be forced to change my mind about allowing you a generous portion and not including you in the investigation concerning Mr. Coburn.”
Edwin had turned white in his shock. He looked like a child who had received a well-justified whipping. “Yes… sir.”
The proverbial bully had turned coward. “Very good, then. I shall leave you to recover and send a maid to attend to Her Grace.”
Nicholas stood stock still as the pause lengthened into an uncomfortably long silence. He stared at his half brother until Edwin was forced to show his respect by a slight bow. With that, Nicholas quit the room alongside Charlotte.
His arm had never felt so rock-hard as it did just now while they walked past the tiered formal gardens of Wyndhurst Abbey toward the cottage. The loud crunching sound of the pea gravel beneath their steps filled Charlotte’s ears. The air was cool, signaling autumn’s commencement as the dark red roses made a final fragrant showing before the killing frosts.
Charlotte felt very shy in his commanding presence, unsure of what to say. She dared a sidelong glance at his rugged, handsome profile and saw the grim set of his mouth while they headed into the teeth of a strong wind that promised to pierce the heavy gray clouds all around. They entered the taller grasses, swirling madly in the breeze, and startled a pocket of field grouse, who flew away, their long tails fanned in flight.
They walked in silence; he seemingly lost in thought, she wondering what he was thinking, not confident enough to utter a word. Within sight of the cottage, Nicholas halted.
“Charlotte,” he said, turning to face her. “I am sorry for everything you have had to endure since coming to this godforsaken place. From the hostile reception, the death of your father, your forced betrothal, through it all you have been a model of grace and all that is charitable and good. And I, well, I was all that is the opposite.”
“I am not sorry I came,” she interrupted in whispered tones, while looking at the ground. “And it is not true what you said. You are all that is courageous and kind. I know that because of your excellent character. You took pity of me, but there was no need. I did not want your pity. I only ever wanted your…” Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte could see that he had bent down to try and catch her words.
“My what?” he asked.
“Oh, never mind. It doesn’t signify. Shall we go into the cottage? I have something for you. I wanted to give it to you before I left.”
He took her hands in his own and bent to kiss them. She felt like an awkward girl staring into his impossibly handsome face.
“What did you only ever want from me, Charlotte?”
She released his hands and began marching, in the longest strides her legs would allow, to the whitewashed cottage beyond. She could hear him walking beside her.
“Tell me you only ever wanted my love, dearest,” he said, his deep baritone voice floating in the wind.
“I cannot,” she said, horrified that he had guessed her greatest desire. “I only ever wanted your respect, sir.”
“Well then, that is too bad.”
She swung around to face him, anger flooding her body, forcing the tears that had threatened to spill back into their small recesses. “Yes, it is too bad. I was never able to gain anything but your pity. Now, please, I beg of you to leave me alone. I think it best that I leave you here, actually. I will send the item I have for you with Doro. Will you please, I beg of you, arrange for a carriage to take me to London the morning after your father’s burial? I think it best that I leave then,” she said.
He threw back his head and laughed.
It was outrageous. He was outrageous. She had never seen him act with so little concern for her sensibilities. She ran to the door. At the last moment, she was snatched back into his arms.
“Darling, you do not think I would let you go now, just when you have almost admitted that my fondest wishes have been granted?” There was a shining light in his laughter-filled green eyes.
“Put me down!”
“Not until I hear from your beautiful lips precisely how long you have loved me.” “I did not admit that.” “Then it is a shame. You shall have to live with a man who loves you to distraction while you only tolerate him. I shall not let you go away, my love.”
“Oh, Nicholas,” she said. “Please don’t make fun of me or of our situation. You have never loved me. You have only ever pitied me.”
“Yes, you are right, of course. I was feeling only pity the day I first met you and railed against your nursing, and again only pity as you helped me begin to learn how to read, and pity alone on our wedding night, as we made love in every way imaginable. It was all done in pity.”
“I beg of you not to lie to me. It would only lead to great unhappiness,” she said, looking away from the intensity of his gaze. She pushed at his strong shoulders in an attempt to release herself from his embrace.
“Oh, no. I shall not let you go. I have not given you the requisite number of compliments today. First, you are the most delicately beautiful lady of my acquaintance.”
She sighed in sadness, refusing to believe.
“Second, you are the most hardheaded—no, rather, impossibly hardheaded wife, even if it is a beautiful hard head. And by the way, I take great offence that you would even think for a moment that I would lie to you. It is a very lowering thought just after you complimented my great character. And finally, I do hope Doro and the Robertses are not still in this cottage, as they and you would be most embarrassed by what I plan to do to you very, very soon,” he said, then laughed heartily. “That is, of course, a roundabout way of telling you how attractive I find you,” he said.
“Well, hmmm, still no dimples. What more can I say? That I have loved you since the moment I met you? No, I can see you will not believe that. Well, then, I can assure you that I have loved you ever since you responded quite eagerly, I might add, to my first kiss. And if not then, then the time you looked quite lovely covered in blood and straw when you saved both mare and foal. But I was sure I loved you after you forced me to take responsibility for my family, thereby allowing my father to die in peace.” The last was said in quiet, all laughter drifting away.
“Please stop…” she said, resting her head on his cravat.
“Charlotte, I love you. And I will not let you go away from me. So, I am afraid you are stuck with an ignorant ox of a husband who was too stupid and blind to tell you all this before, and who now requires you to tell me you will stay and help me make the Knight properties once again the finest in Christendom, whether you are able to tell me you love me or not,” he said quietly in her ear.
At that moment, the haunting call of a mature cuckoo could be heard. She refused to encounter his expression, so she hid her face in the folds of his linen. “I do love you, Nicholas. You know I do, and always have. I will never stop loving you. And I am so proud you have faced down the familial cuckoos who usurped your rightful place. I feared it would never happen, and that you would return to the military life while I lived apart from you.”
Nicholas nudged open the door and released her over the threshold. He cupped her face within his hands and kissed her until she entwined her arms about his neck. She broke away and continued, “I have a small wedding gift I have been wanting to give you.”
“And I you,” he said, looking at her with a heartwarming expression. “You first.”
She took his hand and led him into the clay room. The large bust she had created with painstaking care was in the corner, a damp cloth hiding the sculpture. Charlotte uncovered it to reveal a perfectly formed bust of Nicholas’s head and chest.
She glanced toward him and saw the surprise and delight in his expression. “I hope you are pleased with it. It is not quite right, I know. I did not capture—”
“You captured it all,” he said in awe and wonder. “I only hope I can live up to the heroic and intelligent gleam in these noble eyes,” he said, then chuckled.
“I am so glad you like it.”
“I had thought it was a bust of your irascible cousin.”
“I know. I am sorry he acted toward you as he did,” she said.
“Actually, I am pitying him, now. Of course, I was feeling differently when I assumed it was you who had gone off with him. But once I knew it was the lovely Lady Susan, well—” Nicholas said, scratching his head, “—I daresay he will be hard pressed, as a gentleman, to disentangle himself from parson’s mousetrap. That would put a quick end to his humorous nature.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Knowing Alex as I do, he will not only convince Lady Susan of the foolishness of her bold flight but find a solution to avoid her complete ruination— that is—if she ever finds him.”
“I know I should feel more compassion for your cousin but at this moment I can think only of you, here with me,” Nicholas said, cupping her face with his hands. “Although I daresay my conscience shall get the better of me soon enough and I shall go riding helter-skelter toward London in search of the pair of them. Perhaps I can persuade dear Edwin to help me. But enough of that. We have waited long enough for our own happiness.”
Charlotte felt awash in feminine excitement mixed with newfound boldness and confidence. The first raindrops sounded like pebbles hitting the rushes of the cottage. A moment later, the skies let loose the full fury of the heavy clouds and lightning flashed.
“But first you must have your present. I am afraid it is not jewels or pearls, as would be much more fitting. It is a kiln, my dearest, newly constructed for your use. Not very romantic, I know.”
“A kiln,” she said in wonder. “You had a kiln made for me? Why it is exactly what I most wanted! Thank you, oh, thank you, Nicholas.”
In her exuberance, she flew into his arms and kissed him using every wicked technique her cousin had suggested.
“Well, if I had known you would react like this, I would have given you the silly brick oven ages ago,” he said, after pulling reluctantly away from her. “Now what say we ascend to your chamber above and pray that this storm does not let up for a fortnight?”
“Or two,” Charlotte responded, looking up into his loving eyes. “Or three,” he said, as he laughed and swung her up into his arms, where he swore she would always remain.