He gazed at her tenderly. “Tell me now.”
“I love you with my heart and soul,” she said simply. “But I was always aware that I wasn’t your choice.” She swallowed. “I knew you loved Drusilla, you see, and might have married her instead of me.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Nellie! What nonsense.” His gaze shifted to her mouth, and he traced a line over her bottom lip. “I was smitten with you the moment I met you. I wanted to get close to you, but you always held me at arm’s length. Beverly told Jason she thought I was in love with you back before we married.” He smiled. “But I despaired that you doubted me. You thought I lied to you. That the boy was mine.”
“I was foolish not to trust you.” She smoothed back his hair from his forehead. “But we knew so little about each other. The man I’ve come to know would never lie to me. But I know he isn’t your son.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Marian told you?”
She nodded with a glimmer of a smile.
“The boy’s father is a French count,” Charles said. “My stupid pride kept me from trying to convince you.”
“In the end, I didn’t really care if the boy was yours. As long as you were good to him.”
Charles jumped up at the knock on the door. “Here’s Dr. Jacobs. There was no time to send for Chapman, but I approve of how this doctor treated Hanbury.”
The doctor came in with Lilly following. “Twice in one day, Your Grace? I hope I shan’t see you again for a while.” He walked over to the bed. “Well, Your Grace, you’ve taken a fall off a horse, I’m told.”
“She’s with child, doctor,” Charles said.
“Might be best if you allow me to examine her. Will you assist me, Lilly?” He opened his bag.
“Please, Charles, do go away,” Nellie implored him.
“A footman will be outside the door, Doctor. Should you require me, please send word when you have completed your examination of Her Grace.”
At the impatient look from his wife, Charles left the room.
*
Charles and Nellie stood in the village church to act as witnesses as Feeley and Lilly were wed. Charles gazed down at his wife. She was radiant at the good news that her baby was growing nicely. His mother was thrilled.
Nellie’s mother and father had written to express their delight and hope for a boy.
A happy man, Feeley vigorously shook Charles’s hand. “I am indebted to you, Your Grace.”
“I shall never have another valet like you,” Charles said with absolute truth. “You will be missed.”
Feeley chuckled. “I will miss working for you, Your Grace. Indeed I will, but I’m a married man.” He cast a warm eye at Lilly, who looked pretty as a picture with flowers in her hair. “And a married man has obligations.”
“Be a good husband, Feeley,” Charles said. “I wish you well in your new life.”
Nellie kissed Lilly goodbye. She was wearing one of Nellie’s pelisses and had several other items of clothing in her valise. The couple climbed into the trap, which would take them to the inn. In the morning, they would board the stagecoach for Liverpool and take the boat to Ireland.
Nellie waved goodbye.
“Have you engaged a new lady’s maid, my love?” Charles asked. “Barlow tells me you’ve been inundated with applications.”
She tucked her hand in his arm as they strolled over to the curricle. “None of them appealed. Mrs. Bishop, the lady who runs the village store, has a daughter, Lucy. She is a nice girl, Charles, and very willing to learn. As she is keen to go into service, I’ve decided to engage her.”
Charles nodded and smiled to himself.
Epilogue
Shewsbury Park
July 1816.
Thumb in mouth, Bartholomew John Charles, Marquess Pembroke, rolled around the blanket and uttered a discourse on the state of things in general, which made sense only to him.
Nellie cast an indulgent smile at her dark-haired son. “He shall be a great orator in the Lords.”
“But of course,” Catherine said from her wicker chair, smiling from beneath her parasol. “Like his father, but with his mother’s spirit and sense of fairness.”
Nellie smiled up at her. “And his grandmother’s benevolence.”
Peter barked at a raven stalking the grass. It flew onto the branch of a chestnut tree and mocked the dog with a cry, watching him with its yellow eyes.
“Have you heard from your sister, Lady Belfries?”
“A letter came this morning,” Nellie said. “Harriet is teething, and the less said about their son, Frederick, the better.”
“Still a handful?”
“But his father sees it as a sign of a strong character.”
“Jason was a handful, and he turned out well. I believe he and Beverly’s little Sarah will be a beauty.”
Nellie nodded. “She has her mother’s beautiful eyes.”
She glanced at her mama-in-law, who had sagged back in the chair. She would have to go inside soon. Catherine grew tired more easily these days. They had been thrilled to have her with them for far longer than expected but knew as Dr. Chapman predicted, she was coming to the end of her life. “Nathaniel and Eliza are to visit us next week with their two girls. It will be good to see them.”
“Yes. You know, Nellie. I meant to talk to you about Charles, and I should not let it go too long.”
Nellie tamped down the chill, which flooded through her. “About Charles?”
“He and his brother Michael were only ten months apart. They were always very close. Jason was so much younger, he wasn’t around for much of that time.” She sighed. “They were as thick as thieves. Charles adored Michael. When his brother fell ill, Charles tried everything he could to make him well again. Brought in doctors from abroad, read everything written about the disease, but in the end, none of it helped. It hit Charles very hard when Michael died. He changed from a happy young man to a more sober, cautious one. And then his father died. He had
