Chapter 14
“Oh, Aunt Linette, I’m so happy you remember my birthday party again! Isn’t it wonderful for all of us to be together?”
Linette couldn’t help but smile at Paloma, who sat next to her at the dining table that didn’t appear quite so massive with her family and dear friends gathered around it.
Her father sat on Linette’s other side, beaming to have all of his beloved daughters under one roof. Jared and Lindsay with their two fair-haired children sat opposite her, Justin, five and a half, and Cecelia, almost four, squirming in their seats now that everyone had finished Paloma’s favorite iced lemon cake.
Walker and Marguerite sat further down past Paloma, Marguerite holding their nearly three-year-old son, Dwight, the very image of his handsome father with his raven-black hair. Donovan presided at the head of the table with twins Draydon and Dahlia, turned six in February, flanking him. Corie sat at the opposite end cuddling one-year-old Adele atop her lap, while Estelle on her right reached down to pet Luther.
Everyone laughing and smiling and celebrating with Linette that she felt so much better, her memory fully regained and even the headaches no longer plaguing her. How could she possibly be sad? She wouldn’t allow it, no, not even when the one she longed to see again had been gone for ten days now, through Easter last weekend and the past few days when everyone had arrived at Arundale Hall with luggage, children, and nannies in tow.
In truth, Linette’s unflagging hope that Adam would return had dimmed as the hours had ticked by to the special dinner Corie had planned for six o’clock.
Donovan had refused to do more than send a letter of invitation to Linley Grove the day after Adam had stormed out; as far as Linette knew, her brother-in-law had received no response from him and didn’t know if Adam had returned to Wiltshire or not to see his dying father. Donovan had told her only that if Adam came back, it would be of his own volition with no intervention from him.
Perhaps he never received the invitation, Linette found herself thinking for the hundredth time though she refused to let heartache overwhelm her. Especially not when her father reached over to give her hand a warm squeeze.
“I’m so thankful you are well again, Linette. So very thankful all my prayers have been answered. My daughters safe and sound. Corie and Marguerite so happily married and soon you—”
“Papa, perhaps you’d like to join Donovan in the library,” Corie burst in, startling Linette as her eldest sister threw the oddest glance at Donovan at the other end of the table. He nodded and abruptly rose.
“Jared, Walker. A brandy?”
Linette felt she had scarcely blinked before the men departed while nannies swept into the dining room to gather the children. None of them made a peep of protest, their tummies full and their eyes growing sleepy. Only Paloma was allowed to remain as Corie suggested that the women retire to the drawing room.
With the swish of silk and satin, Linette found herself flanked by Marguerite and Estelle, who looped their arms through hers and drew her along with them into the foyer.
“Your gown is lovely, Linette,” said Marguerite, resplendent herself in a plum-colored confection that complemented the rich shade of her hair, like Estelle’s more red than brown. “The pink satin so brings out the color of your eyes—”
“I helped Corie pick out the fabric, along with my apricot silk,” broke in Estelle as they entered the drawing room, Luther skittering past them to plop onto his cushion next to the loveseat. Linette had the strangest sense that her family was somehow trying to distract her, her sisters and niece fluttering around her like butterflies.
“Sit here, Linette!” Paloma, so pretty in blue-dotted muslin, patted the chair next to her own, while Corie, in a shimmering turquoise gown, remained by the door.
Facing into the room, Linette sat down while Marguerite and Estelle settled themselves on the loveseat across from her, both of them glancing past her to Corie and then back again.
Whatever was the matter with them? Estelle fidgeted as if she couldn’t quite contain herself, only to gasp when the tall clock in the corner chimed half past seven.
“Estelle?”
Her sister didn’t answer her, instead clapping her hand over her mouth as Linette glanced over her shoulder to see Corie disappear from the doorway. She heard it then, the closing of the front door and the din of male voices echoing in the foyer, a deep voice in particular making her heart seem to stop.
Oh, Lord…might it be?
Trembling, she rose from the chair and spun around as a footman loudly announced, “Lord Linley of Wiltshire!”
Linette couldn’t move even as her sisters and Paloma rose, too, all of them staring at the open doorway as footsteps came closer…and then he was there.
Adam. Not dressed at all as he had before in unassuming attire befitting a doctor, but in a formal black overcoat, starched white cravat, copper-hued brocade waistcoat, and black trousers, as if to attend a ball. He bowed his head gallantly, his hazel eyes riveted upon her face as he extended his hand to her.
“Miss Easton, will you accompany me out to the garden?”
She thought to run to him and throw herself into his arms. Somehow she made herself walk toward him, though she sucked in her breath when his fingers touched hers.
So strong, so warm. He looked so serious, too, but his gaze was filled with open admiration as he led her toward the double doors leading into the garden.
As if by unseen hands they opened, Linette no more aware that footmen had appeared to throw them wide as that her family followed not far behind them.
She felt caught in a spell, just her and Adam walking together toward the marble pavilion at one end of the garden. The heady scent of lilacs hung in the air as the setting sun’s last rays cast a pink glow all around them.
Then they were there, Linette realizing with a soft gasp that the pavilion was lit by a dozen tall candelabra adorned with flowers. Adam drew her into the very center and turned to face her. His gaze held hers, so serious still, as he took both of her hands in his.
“Forgive me for leaving you, Linette. Will you?”
She nodded, tears misting her eyes. “I knew you would come back to me, Adam. But what of your father?”
He slowly drew in his breath, clasping her hands more tightly. “We made our peace. Love won over hatred. I’m here…with you.”
“With me.” She gasped again as Adam knelt down on one knee in front of her.
“I’ve loved you since we first kissed. Will you marry me, Linette? Here…tonight?”
“Oh, Adam, yes. Yes!”
He rose so suddenly to sweep her into his arms that she felt her heart leap against her breast, and then his lips found hers.
His kiss so wondrous, so tender, that she could but close her eyes to the twilight sky, her arms winding around him.
She could not say how long they stood there together, embracing each other, Linette murmuring, “I love you, Adam,” against his lips…until the sound of Donovan clearing his throat, and Paloma’s giggle, made Adam lift his head.
He didn’t look serious anymore, his smile making Linette smile, too, and laugh with some embarrassment as she realized they were encircled by family and friends. Her father, his Bible in hand, stepped forward…and only then did Linette understand his near blunder in the dining room and her sisters’ nervous excitement.
They must have all known Adam was coming! Yet no banns had been read in church and they weren’t anywhere near her home parish—
“A special license was procured, my love,” Adam murmured, guessing her thoughts as he drew her closer and once more clasped her hands. “Thanks to Donovan…who opened my eyes as well to how close I came to losing you.”
Her eyes brimming with grateful tears, Linette glanced at the beloved faces of all those gathered around them…Corie and Donovan, Lindsay and Jared, Marguerite and Walker, Estelle, beaming, with Luther tucked under her arm, and sweet Paloma, who looked as if she were witnessing a fairy tale come true. Then her father lifted his voice, Linette meeting Adam’s gaze as he tenderly squeezed her fingers.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God…”
One month later
Arundale Hall, Hampshire
“Have I ever told you that you’re an extraordinary man?”
Donovan glanced at Corie, who sat next to him on the terrace as they watched their children run and play in the garden. She’d been smiling a moment ago, enjoying the warm May sunshine, but now she looked so pensive that he quickly sought to tease her.
“I believe a time or two…but no more extraordinary than the woman I married. What an extraordinary pair we make!”
“Oh, Donovan, I’m being serious,” she said with exasperation, leaning toward him in a soft rustle of pale green silk to give him a peck on the cheek. Instead he turned his head just in time to kiss her full on the mouth, and what a beautiful mouth, too, which made her erupt into laughter.
“You’re impossible, husband.”
“And you’re the loveliest woman I’ve ever seen,” he said, kissing her smiling lips again for good measure. “To what do I owe such a lofty compliment?”
“I think you know,” she murmured. “My sisters and Lindsay…they all owe their happiness to you. You’re a good man, Donovan Trent, and I love you with all my heart.”
Staring into Corie’s lovely dark brown eyes, Donovan found for a moment that his throat had tightened too much to speak. He squeezed her hand instead, both of them simply looking at each other until a boyish cry of protest made them turn back to the garden.
“Dahlia’s taken one of Draydon’s tin soldiers again,” Corie said with a small sigh, though Paloma, always the peacemaker, intervened at once to retrieve the toy and return it to her brother. Dahlia, however, looked quite upset that her older sister had asked for the soldier back, and stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest.
Donovan chuckled. “Who does that remind you of?”
Corie laughed, too, but then focused once again on the letter she had dropped to her lap. “I’m so glad Adam will continue on as a doctor…well, that along with everything else occupying him now. He hasn’t wasted any time in starting the renovations at Linley Grove. Linette says she’s enjoying London, but thinks by late autumn they’ll be moving home to Wiltshire.”
“So I suggested to him to do. Strip away the bad memories to make room for the new. It worked for Jared at Dovercourt Manor. I told him the same thing, too. Renovate, add a loving wife and children, and thank God each day thereafter for the happier memories.”
Corie nodded, looking pensive again, which made Donovan sense that she thought of Nigel, his late brother, who’d already done the work of renovating Arundale Hall to rid himself of memories of their harshly domineering father. Except Nigel’s marriage had been loveless and there hadn’t been any children…
“Corie, my brother was content enough with his time here. And his will provided Charlotte with an estate of her own, God bless him. This is our home now and our children’s and I want us to be happy—”
“I am, Donovan, so happy, truly,” Corie cut in gently. “I love this place, and perhaps one day we’ll be able to spend time again at the house in Cornwall. It was a kind thing you did to keep it open so Miss Biddle and the others remain employed close to family.”
“I have hopes for us to return there, too.” Donovan glanced out at the children, their bright laughter cheering his suddenly subdued mood. “I know Porthleven is in your blood, the tinners and their wives and children, the sea. I can’t say when, though…”
His gaze, like Corie’s, fell to the unopened letter that Donovan had dropped at his feet.
Water-stained, tattered. He had recognized the careful handwriting on the envelope at once when the footman had delivered the mail to them earlier on the terrace.
Donovan didn’t understand why he felt so reluctant to open it, when the only other letter he’d received in mid-January from Prince Valentin had been welcome news.
The young man and his valet had made it to Northumberland and found refuge at the home of a military friend of Donovan’s, and to where he had sent a missive back about the men who had come to Porthleven looking for him and what had happened to Estelle and Linette. It appeared that this latest letter had taken a long time to reach him, perhaps mislaid somewhere along the way, which made Donovan sigh heavily as he retrieved it and tore open the weathered envelope.
“Donovan?”
His expression must have darkened as he read, Corie reaching out to lay her hand upon his arm. He had kept little from her, his beloved wife his only confidante.
“It’s from Prince Valentin…written almost three months ago after he received my letter. He’s gone back to Bratavia to surrender himself to his uncle.”
“Donovan, no!”
He nodded, his gut clenched. He had seen bravery in wartime, but nothing like this heroic act of selflessness. “He blames himself for what happened to Estelle and Linette, and couldn’t bear that it might happen again to any one of us. God help him, Corie, Valentin may be dead by now or at the very least, imprisoned!”
Neither of them spoke for the longest moment, the innocence of their children’s laughter a disquieting contrast to the immensity of the prince’s sacrifice. Nothing could have been more jarring than the sound of Estelle laughing, too, as she waved and ran past them with Luther at her heels to join her nieces and nephew in the garden.
“What shall we do? Should we tell her?”
He shook his head at Corie, crumpling the letter into his overcoat pocket. “It would break her heart. She speaks of him still, though I’ve told her not to. She hopes one day to see him again to thank him. Let her believe he’s still a fugitive. Better that than the brutal truth.”
“A fugitive…” Corie echoed, lacing her fingers tightly with Donovan’s when he reached out to take her hand.
Together they rose as if with one mind and made their way down the steps, knowing that nothing would ease this stark moment more than to hug and kiss their children.
And to pray that there might be hope for Prince Valentin. Even the tiniest sliver of hope…
*****
Read on for an exciting excerpt from Twin Passions,
Book 1 in Miriam Minger's bestselling Captive Brides Collection!