Chapter Twenty-One
Halwell rode home disconsolately. For all that he was enlightened as to the truth of Rachel, she was still gone, and he had no idea if she ever planned to return, or if she could.
He thought to call upon Miss Hickstrom himself but feared doing so. It appeared as if the fairy godmother was powerful but also capricious and unpredictable. If he were to upset her, might she not absolutely forbid him seeing Rachel again? He could not know and wanted to consider the matter further.
He arrived at Alton House to discover the household in a frenzy of activity. The butler, Bower, announced that Lady Georgianna was removing to London that very day.
“My mother is moving to London? Today?”
“Yes, your lordship. She is packing all her clothing and means to stay there indefinitely.”
Halwell smiled. He turned and surveyed the foyer, imagining the solitude that he would soon experience as the sole resident of Alton House. He might do as he wished, when he wished. If he wanted to walk in the garden alone to dwell on memories of Rachel, he would do so. If he wanted to wander about the library in his nightshirt and recall memories of Rachel, he would do so.
He spread his arms wide, as if he were a bird, and smiled broadly.
“Do you need anything, your lordship?” Bower asked.
“Nothing at all, Bower. Nothing at all!”
Halwell retired to the library to await the departure of his parents. He helped himself to a brandy and settled into a chair, picking up Rachel’s handwritten list and studying her penmanship with a new eye.
The door flew open, and his mother entered, her cheeks bright, a fetching bonnet on her head.
“You have heard the news then! I move to London with your father!”
Halwell set down his drink and the paper and stood.
“I have heard, Mother. I think this is a wonderful idea.”
“I am so very nervous,” she said.
“I imagine that you might be, but again, I do encourage you to share your concerns with Father.”
“Yes, of course you are right. You have for so long been my confidant...”
“Perhaps to the detriment of your marriage. Be happy, Mother!” Halwell moved toward his mother and kissed her on the cheek.
She laid a hand on his cheek. “I love you, son. I wish for your every happiness.”
“Thank you.”
“Does that happiness include Miss Lee?”
Halwell looked into his mother’s eyes. “If possible, yes.”
She drew in a sharp breath and released it slowly. “You must do as you think best, George. You are my son, and I will honor your decisions.”
Halwell’s smile felt bittersweet. His “decisions” had come too late.
“Please write to us and let us know how you go on, George! I must hasten. The carriage is leaving.”
“Give Father my regards. I will see you in London sometime in the future.”
“I will.”
She left the room, and Halwell crossed over to the window to watch the departure. His father held the carriage open for his mother. He turned and looked over his shoulder toward Halwell and raised a hand in farewell. Halwell waved back, and his father climbed into the carriage, and they moved away.
Halwell turned and faced the library.
“Miss Hickstrom!” he called out. “Miss Hickstrom! Can I request your presence?”
Halwell waited, but the lady did not appear.
“Miss Hickstrom?” he called out again.
Still, she did not come. He walked to the door and pulled it open to check the front entrance. The footmen stood by, the house settling into calm after the flurry of his parents’ departure. He closed the door again and returned to the center of the room to pick up Rachel’s list. He lifted his head and spoke aloud.
“Rachel? Can you come back to me? Would you come back to me if you could?”
Heaviness returned to Halwell’s chest, to his heart. If he could not even summon the fairy godmother, how could Rachel, over two centuries into the future, hear him call out to her?
Restless, Halwell left the library and went to his room to remove his dusty riding boots. With a certain amount of freedom to dress as he pleased now that his mother had left the house, he discarded his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves.
He picked up Rachel’s shoe and stared at it. Looking up at the ceiling, he whispered, “Come back. Come back to me.”
He sighed heavily and surveyed his room, at a loss for what to do to pass the time. He had breakfasted, had ridden, had called upon neighbors, had said goodbye to his parents. Surely a full day, and yet it was just going on noon. Light from the window beckoned, and he crossed the room to look out. Sun shone down upon the roses.
A figure appeared in the garden, a small woman in an emerald-green dress from a bygone era. She sauntered toward a bench and seated herself.
“Miss Hickstrom!”
Halwell pushed the latch open and called out. “Miss Hickstrom! Wait there for me!”
Still in his shirtsleeves, he turned and hurried from the room. He bounded down the stairs and hurried past the footmen to leave the house. Rounding the corner of the building, he slowed his pace to catch his breath and preserve some small element of decorum.
Miss Hickstrom did indeed still sit in the garden. Halwell stopped before her.
“George, you appear to be half-dressed!”
He looked down at his shirtsleeves.
“Is that Rachel’s shoe in your hand?”
Sheepishly, George held up the athletic shoe. “It is. I was holding it when I saw you. Forgive my appearance. Did you hear me call out to you? Thank you for coming!”
“Yes, of course I heard you, dear boy. What can I do for you?”
“May I sit?”
“Certainly.”
He sat beside the fairy godmother. “Have you heard from Rachel? Is she safe? Is she well? Is she happy to be home? Tell me what you know.”
“I have seen Rachel, George. She is safely at home. I do not believe she has been happy though. What else can I tell you?”
“Why is she unhappy?”
“Why do you believe she would be unhappy?”
“I cannot say. Please do not toy with me, Miss Hickstrom. Why has she been unhappy? Can you do anything to help her?”
“Of course I can help her, George. I am a fairy godmother.”
“Then I implore you to help her find joy!”
“That is precisely what I have been doing these past few weeks. It would be helpful if you and she were willing to do your share.”
“Our share?”
“No, George, really? Are we to rehash this again? I brought you together to ease the loneliness from which you both suffered, to find the love for that you mutually yearned.”
“You did, Miss Hickstrom. I am fully aware of what you did for me and that I failed you miserably. I do not care if you choose to curse me to a life without love, without marriage, but you must know how bitterly I regret that I discarded my chance at happiness with Rachel. You must know, but I wish that she knew. If nothing else, I wish that Rachel knew how dear she was to me. That is all.”
“Perhaps you should tell her yourself, George.”
“How? She is gone...two hundred years into the future. How shall I tell her?”
“Yes, you are right. She did return to her time. You were too late to stop her from returning.”
“Please, Miss Hickstrom,” Halwell said faintly. “Please tell me that she will find happiness someday, that you did not curse her as well to a life of loneliness.”
“Not at all, George. If anything, Rachel has been much more receptive to the notion of love than you.”
Halwell dropped his head, staring at the shoe in his hand. “To my shame, I believe you are right. So enamored was I with my role as thwarted suitor for Mary’s hand that I did not see the love that was before me. I insulted her and suggested that I could never love her. But I was wrong. I did love her. I do love her.”
“And I love you,” Rachel said.
Halwell drew in a sharp breath and looked up. Rachel, a vision in ivory silk and rose lace, stood before him. Hickstrom had vanished. Halwell jumped to his feet and bowed.
“Rachel! Miss Lee! Rachel!” he said in a hoarse voice. “You have come back!”
“Is that my shoe in your hand?”
Halwell looked down at the shoe. “It is all I had of you. I thought I had lost you forever! Please tell me that you are not a figment of my imagination.”
Rachel smiled, her brown eyes sparkling. “No, I’m here. I’m back to stay...if you’re interested.”
“Interested? Oh, my dear girl, I love you beyond reason. I shall be interested all the days of my life.” Halwell dropped the shoe and pulled Rachel into his arms. He bent his head to her lips and felt her hands cradle his neck. Loneliness ebbed away as he kissed the true love of his life.
Sometime later, he lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. “Please say that you will marry me.”
“Please say you will marry me!”
“I want no other.”
“The viscount finds love?” Rachel said with a grin.
Viscount Halwell tilted his head, as if he didn’t understand her reference, but he nodded.
“The viscount has found his love,” he said as he bent to kiss her again.
****
Hickstrom, smiling upon her charges, watched from the window of the library, where she contemplated her next case.