Resolve, p.20
Resolve, page 20
“Miss Catherine was always good to us, even when times was ’ard,” Old Ned continued. “When there was no wages, she made sure no one had a hungry belly, and there was always wood for the fire.” Rheumy eyes bright with emotion, Old Ned sniffed loudly and searched his pockets. Like a magician performing sleight of hand, he pulled a square of linen from a hidden pocket. He wiped his eyes and blew his nose, sounding like a rusty trumpet. Rian refilled Old Ned’s tankard.
“Will you be seeing Miss Catherine afore long?” Old Ned asked.
“Hopefully,” Rian replied, watching as the old man took another long draught of ale.
“Would you give her summat for me?” This time the foam was ignored, leaving Old Ned with a splendid mustache.
“Of course.” Rian watched in fascination as from another hidden pocket arthritic fingers brought forth a delicate bundle which was placed reverently on the table. Wrapped in lace, it carried great significance. “What is it?” he asked the gardener.
“Heather.”
“Heather?”
“Aye, she’ll understand,” Old Ned told him firmly. “It always was her favorite. Her mother’s too.”
“Then I’ll make sure it gets to her, and tell her who it is from,” Rian assured him.
“No need to do that. She’ll know,” the old man said softly.
With the current condition of Catherine’s memory, Rian couldn’t be sure of that, but he saw no point in crushing an old man’s memories. After politely refusing another refill, the former head gardener stood and slowly made his way to the door. With his claw hand resting on the wrought iron handle, he turned and looked back at Rian.
“You’ll do all right as master,” Old Ned told him. “I’ll no doubt be seeing you again.”
Unexpectedly touched by the simple sincerity in the old man’s voice, Rian thanked him for his words. “I’m not sure when I’ll be in these parts again,” he said truthfully.
Old Ned narrowed his eyes, his white brows becoming a line of frost across his weathered forehead. “I thought you said you knows Miss Catherine?”
“And I do.”
“Then you’ll be bringing her back home, or else she’ll be bringing you!” he cackled. “Mark my words, one way or t’other, you’ll be back afore long.” And with that he pulled the door open, leaving Rian with the sound of his shuffling footsteps as he made his way down the hall.
The innkeeper’s hasty appearance meant he had probably been hovering in an adjacent room. Rian smiled to himself. It was the way of things, but he was curious to know what secrets the man was worried Old Ned might spill.
“The carriage will be here within the hour, sir,” the man said as he nervously wiped his meaty hands on the apron tied about his waist. Rian nodded and the man turned to go.
“Can you find me a courier?” Rian asked.
“A courier?” The innkeeper looked bewildered and Rian thought perhaps the man did not understand what he was asking.
“Yes, I wish to send a package and a letter south, and another to Lord Barclay,” Rian explained.
“Well, my boy can take the letter to his lordship, and the coachman will be taking mail, sir.”
He hadn’t thought of that. By the time the landlord returned with his son, Rian was ready to leave. He had carefully enclosed the handkerchief with its precious contents within a sheet of heavy parchment, folded the corners together and sealed it with wax. He placed it in his pocket with his letter to Liam. Edward Barclay’s letter he gave to the landlord’s son, along with a gold coin for his trouble. The boy’s eyes opened wide enough for Rian to know he had not held so much wealth in his hand before, and he wondered how much his father would allow him to keep.
Chapter 26
Foretelling the future was not a skill Mrs. Hatch possessed no matter how much Catherine might wish it. The few days that the housekeeper had predicted Rian would be gone had now stretched into almost two months. Liam had received a few letters, but had chosen not to share the contents with her. She could not fault him for the exclusion. Everyone was avoiding mentioning Rian around her. Everyone that is except Felicity, who refused to accept that he wasn’t coming back soon, and that what had occurred between them was nothing more than a minor misunderstanding. Catherine could only admire her friend for her optimism.
February had come and gone, and blustery March had indeed roared in like a lion, and was now meekly making itself scarce, leaving behind signs of spring everywhere. The first snowdrops had long ago given way to chubby orange, purple, and white crocuses, while majestic golden daffodils heralded the coming of warmer days.
The ill-fated incident with the pink ball gown had indeed turned out to be the catalyst required to unlock a door in Catherine’s mind. As a result her memories were returning at a startling rate. Each new day brought with it a reminiscence of her previous life, which she shared with Liam and Felicity, whom she now thought of as her family. She delighted Felicity one evening by joining her at the pianoforte in a duet, before proving herself to be quite an accomplished soloist as well. A hidden talent for mimicry, coupled with a wicked sense of humor, had Liam almost falling out of his chair as Catherine put her own spin on some of the conversations she had overheard the night of the party.
Other things, however, still eluded her, continuing to remain maddeningly just out of reach. Unable to tell either of them where she grew up, the name of the closest town or even what part of the country she called home was very frustrating. And the identity of the monster who’d assaulted her also remained hidden. Something that Catherine told herself might be better left unknown.
Alone, she spent a great deal of time reexamining the events of that morning in Rian’s bedroom. She went over everything in fine detail and, after putting aside her shock at finding Isabel in Rian’s bed, she listened carefully as Liam reluctantly repeated the conversation he had had with his brother.
“The decision is yours to make, Catherine,” Felicity told her gently as they took advantage of the mild spring weather to gather daffodils.
“What decision?”
“Whether or not you can forgive Rian.”
“What am I to forgive him for?” she asked sarcastically. “The naked harlot in his bed?” The look she gave Felicity said she was surprised her friend would even suggest such a thing. “I don’t care if she does have a title,” she added petulantly.
Putting the basket of flowers they had been filling on the ground, Felicity took Catherine’s hand. “You have to forgive him for being a man. A man who can make very foolish and stupid mistakes.”
Catherine felt her lower lip tremble. “I don’t know if I can.”
Felicity squeezed the slender hand she held. “I know it’s hard, but try not to think about what happened that day. Just tell me what you feel here.” She pressed her hand against her own chest, over her heart.
Catherine sighed, doing her best to control her trembling lip. “A part of me wants to hurt him as much as he hurt me, and then another part says I think I will die if he never kisses me again—”
“Kisses you?” Felicity grabbed Catherine by both her arms. “Rian has kissed you, and you never told me? Oh, shame on you, Miss Davenport!” The bright yellow flowers now forgotten, Catherine had no choice but to share what had taken place in the library. “And what if he never does kiss you like that again?” Felicity asked gently, picking up the basket of blooms with one hand and linking arms with Catherine with the other.
“That’s something I don’t want to think about,” she whispered faintly.
“Then I think it’s time you found out a few things about Isabel Howard.”
“I thought you’d already told me all you know.” Catherine cast her mind back to their prior conversation, before too much blackberry brandy had befuddled her senses.
“True, true. All I know, but there’s someone else who knows a great deal more about Lady Isabel Howard.” Female curiosity reared its head. Felicity was being mysterious. “And,” she continued, “I think a change of scenery might be just the ticket to put the bloom back in your cheeks.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m long overdue for a visit with Mama.” Catherine gave her a puzzled look. “And you’re coming with me.”
They arrived back at the house to be told Liam was looking for Catherine. He had a package for her. “This was just delivered for you,” he said, looking over the top of her head at his wife.
“Who is it from?”
“Rian,” Liam said stoically, his face revealing nothing.
The last time Rian had given Catherine a gift, it had been an unpleasant experience for everyone involved, but it had also been responsible for putting her on the path to her continuing recovery. No matter how ugly the incident, it was universally agreed in hindsight that it had been a necessary one. But now Liam and Felicity held their breath as they waited for Catherine to break the wax seal and carefully open the parchment. The barest trace of fragrance lingered and it enveloped her at once, evoking emotions that were warm and wonderful, and made her feel safe, secure and loved.
“Darling, what is it?” Felicity asked, seeing Catherine’s eyes glisten.
Carefully Catherine opened the folds of the lace handkerchief, taking out the small spray of purple heather that had been nestled within, its ends tied together with a piece of satin ribbon.
“It’s my favorite,” she murmured softly as she held the token out for them to see.
“It’s simply lovely.” Felicity admired the delicate spray. “Is there a note?” she asked, glancing at her husband.
“I received a letter from Rian, but he made no mention of this,” Liam told her.
“It matters not,” Catherine told him. “It is enough that he sent it.” Her expression told them all they needed to know. “I shall take it with me when we leave.” Catherine carefully rewrapped the spray in the lace handkerchief.
“You’re leaving? Where are you going?” Liam asked.
“Oh, I thought I would take Catherine over to stay with Mama for a little while,” Felicity said, patting her husband soothingly on the arm. “The change of scenery will do her good, and I think they would enjoy each other’s company immensely.” She did not mention the real reason behind their visit.
“Oh, of course. When were you planning to go?” It was not so bad. Pelham was less than an hour’s ride by horse across country. A little longer by carriage.
“I thought after lunch,” Felicity said, boldly kissing her husband on the mouth.
* * * *
Pelham Manor, though just as large as Oakhaven, was certainly a much grander house with its fine furnishings, tasteful decorations and well-manicured lawns.
“Don’t you miss all this?” Catherine asked her friend a few days later as they walked through the beautifully laid out gardens.
The flower beds were much more formal in pattern and purpose with every bloom appointed its own designated space in which to grow. Catherine could appreciate the care taken in such a grand design, especially as each plant complemented its neighbor, but she secretly loved the wild feel to the gardens at Oakhaven. Suspecting the chaotic display owed more to accident than design, she’d admired the untidy disorder of the plants now beginning to burst forth. It wasn’t hard to imagine the rambunctious riot of color that would assault them when summer was at its height. It was a gloriously appealing prospect. That didn’t mean, however, she couldn’t appreciate the almost military precision of the gardens at Pelham, and was now quietly noting how many different shades of green could be persuaded to grow together.
“Of course I miss being here,” Felicity said in answer to her question. “This is where I grew up, where I was happy.”
“Aren’t you happy at Oakhaven?” Catherine’s voice sounded worried.
“Yes, very much so, but it is a different kind of happiness. This”—she waved a hand—“represents the joy of my childhood.”
“And Oakhaven is your adult life.”
“Exactly, and there can be no comparison between the two. At Oakhaven I have Liam, and one day it too will look like this.” Felicity spread her arms expansively.
“Truthfully?” Catherine didn’t try to hide her disappointment.
“Oh, I don’t mean the flower beds.” Felicity lowered her voice as if afraid of offending the military row of hyacinths closest to them. “I love Mama a great deal, but I think this is all a little too perfect. It seems almost unnatural, don’t you think?”
“Oakhaven has a different kind of beauty.”
“Precisely! And that’s why I’m not going to have any formally laid out gardens. Instead I shall simply allow the land to conjure up its own charm with each passing season.”
“Oh Felicity, that’s wonderful!” Catherine exclaimed, delighted her friend could recognize and accept the wild beauty of her new home.
“But the house itself is another matter altogether,” Felicity declared with a determined air as she linked arms so they might continue walking.
The day before Felicity was to return to Oakhaven, mother and daughter sat in the salon taking tea together. Catherine, recognizing the need for them to share some private moments, had decided it was time she introduced herself to the stable’s residents. Before leaving she gave Felicity permission to share with her mother as much detail regarding her ordeal as she thought necessary.
“Oh my word—how absolutely appalling!” Emily exclaimed on hearing only a brief synopsis.
“Quite, so you can imagine how pleased Liam and I were when it seemed that something had sparked between Rian and Catherine,” Felicity told her mother.
Fully aware of Rian’s recent affair with Isabel, Emily was mature enough to read between the lines. “What happened to extinguish it?”
Revealing her reason for bringing Catherine to Pelham, Felicity told her mother about the dreadful episode concerning Rian and Isabel.
“Well, that would explain the mournful look I see on her face when she thinks no one is looking,” Emily remarked before sighing in exasperation. “Does she realize she’s in love with him?”
Felicity shook her head. “I don’t think so, Mama, but even if she does, Catherine will not admit to it. Not even to herself, nor I suspect, will she as long as she believes Isabel is still a threat.”
“What a disaster. It’s no wonder the poor girl is heartsick,” Lady Pelham observed. “Men can be such asses!”
“Mama! I trust Papa is excluded from such an observation.”
“Of course. Your father is a saint,” her mother told her as she poured tea. “So, where is Rian now?”
“I honestly don’t know. Liam said he had decided to travel up north to try to find out what he could about Catherine and her family.”
Emily arched a finely plucked eyebrow. “And does Catherine know this?”
“We thought it best not to mention it,” Felicity confided with a shake of her head.
“And she has no idea just how much the poor man is in love with her?” Emily handed her daughter a cup of tea, the translucency of the bone china revealing the darker liquid within.
“Mama—how can you possibly know that Rian is in love with her? His behavior has hardly constituted a declaration!”
“Hasn’t it?” Emily sipped her own tea and gave her daughter a knowing look. “Only a man with a vested interest in the outcome needs a firsthand account of the events of Catherine’s past. He could easily have dispatched a subordinate to obtain this knowledge, but he did not. Rian Connor went himself. I’d say that’s a good indication of a man in love, wouldn’t you? Are you certain Catherine is unaware of his feelings toward her?” she repeated.
“What she knows, and what she will admit to knowing, are two completely different things.” Felicity thought back to Catherine’s recollection of the incident in the library. “She has told me that Rian kissed her quite passionately, but she was also quite tipsy at the time, so her recollection of the facts might be suspect.”
“Pish! I guarantee no woman would forget being kissed by Rian Connor.”
Felicity stared at this woman who looked like her mother, but no longer acted like her. “Never mind that,” she said, slightly flustered. “What we need to concentrate on is finding a way for Catherine to forgive Rian his appalling behavior with Isabel.”
“Darling, don’t do that. It’s very unattractive,” Emily reprimanded as Felicity began to worry her lower lip. “I shall tell Catherine what I know about Isabel when I think she’s ready to hear it, and she will make whatever decision her heart tells her to. In the meantime, I think you should allow her to remain here with your father and me, while you return to your husband before he starts to feel neglected.”
Chapter 27
Catherine had been a guest at Pelham Manor for over a month, and was thankful that it appeared she had not outstayed her welcome. Emily did not seem to mind her extended visit, finding her to be a delightful companion with a quick mind and sense of humor. For Catherine it was a chance to experience the mother figure she’d never had, and she could not help but wonder how different her own life might have been if the hand of fate had not been so cruel.
She also felt a strange sense of relief to be away from Oakhaven. Rian’s presence lingered everywhere she went there, and expecting to bump into him every time she went around a corner had made her edgy. Being a guest at Pelham meant that Felicity was now able to step into her role as mistress of Oakhaven, and spend time alone with her husband without fretting over Catherine. But her friend still managed to return to her former home regularly, and, as she always stayed overnight, there was ample opportunity to visit with both her parents and Catherine.
It was during one of Felicity’s visits to Pelham that Liam received a visitor. Having been forewarned by his brother, he was not terribly surprised when a young man came to call, one with shocking red hair.
