Feather Castles (45 page)
Authors: Patricia Veryan
He wrenched his head away and put a shaking hand across his eyes. Perhaps the strain of these past weeks had been too much; perhaps she was in his thoughts so often that his mind was giving wayâplaying tricks on him, again.
Warm fingers touched his hand, drawing it down. A soft fragrance stole to him. A sweet voice murmured, “Oh, my dear loveâhow very thin you are become!”
And even now, he dared not believe, and whispered uncertainly, “Rachelâ¦? Is itâis it reallyâ¦?”
“I am here, my darling. Come to beg you to lift this notorious lady to the haven of your loveâif you will.”
Speechless, he stretched out his arms, and Rachel melted into them, her face eagerly lifting for his kiss.
An eternity later, she looked up and, seeing the dark eyes above her glistening with tears, said tremulously, “How much I love you, butâoh, my Tristram, I
told
them this was wrong!”
“Whoâmy own, my dearest, most precious girl?” he asked huskily. “Whom did you tell?”
“Your friends. Garret Hawkhurst and his Euphemia. Your sister. Devenish and his uncle. Andâyour Papa.”
“My father?” he gasped, incredulous. “You have met him?”
She nodded, her hands fast locked upon the lapels of his jacket, and his arm tight about her. “He begged me to come here. They were all so worried about you, dearest. Though,” a trace of her mischievous smile flickered, “I believe Mrs. Hawkhurst has manipulated things very skillfully.”
“What? Has my lovely Mia been up to her tricks again? Butâhow?”
“Well, she told your Papaâoh, and I do so like him, Tristram! He is the kindest of men!” Being promptly rewarded with a kiss on the temple, she went on, “Mia told him that because of his disgrace it would not be amiss forâ”
“Wait! Wait a bit, love! That is not possible. My father never did anything dishonourable in his entire life.”
“I do not know what you would term âdishonourable,'” she said with a demure twinkle, “but Mia seemed to think that to offer for four ladies at once was ratherâ
outré.
”
His eyes slightly glassy, Tristram gasped, “Offerâfor â¦
what?
”
She nodded solemnly. “Four, dearest.”
Astounded, he gazed down at her, then threw back his head and uttered a shout of laughter. The first time he had laughed for years, or so it seemed. “That devious rascal! And not a word to me! But how on earth does Mia hope to bring him off?”
“She told him that she could save only one of you from notoriety. Of course, he immediately said that must be you. But Mia somehow talked him around her thumb, so that he came to realize you might notâterribly object toâto being disgraced ifâthat would also ensureâ” She blushed. “Ensure thatâwell, that is to sayâsince you seem to wish to ⦠marry me.”
“Iââseem to wish to'âdo I?” he breathed, raising her hand to his lips. “What fustian you do talk, joy of my life. Butâhow does that massive understatement help to bring my father out of this bumble broth?”
“Why,” said Rachel, failing to keep her fingers from caressing the crisp hair at his temple. “Mia said he must tell his ladies they were not to be disturbed when the
ton
cast us out, as they would when you married me. He and his bride could dwell year round at Cloudhills.” Her eyes sparkling, she finished, “Outcastâwith us.”
Greatly amused, he exclaimed, “By Jove! That would turn the trick, all right!”
“Yes. It did. With all but one lady, and I think he will very happily wed her.”
“Heâ
will?
The deuce! How have I missed all this? Who is she?”
“An old friend of yours. Mrs. Dora Graham.”
He gave a whoop of delight. “Oh, but that's famous! Much Dora would care if we are ostracized! And she has cherished a
tendre
for him for years. It will be, of all thingsâ Oh, lord! Sweetheart, we have
all
been rearranged! We are two more sets of âMia's Mandates'!”
“Are we, Tristram?” she asked, tenderly smiling at him.
“We are indeed, or will be, when you do me the very great honour of becoming my wife.”
She blushed, and said sighfully, “I told you once that I never would wed you. I do dread lest you think me a very biddable girl, my resolution easily overborne.”
Despite this dread, she proceeded to illustrate her lack of resolution by raising not the slightest objection when she was rather roughly interrupted. After a long, heavenly moment, she snuggled her face under his chin and closed her eyes rapturously.
They sat there for a long time; loving and loved, in a bliss so deep it seemed holy. And savouring it to the fullest, both were silent.
The dark clouds above them grew darker, and a few drops began to patter down. Tristram stood. “Come, love.” He reached down to help Rachel to her feet. “I cannot allow you to be caught in the rain.”
She smiled up at him. “It is only a cloud, my dearest.”
“Yes,” he nodded, gently pulling the hood over her curls. “A very special cloud.” And with a new and wonderful possessiveness, drew her hand through his arm.
The wind tossed the treetops, and the rain fell softly, and Tristram and Rachel would not have had it otherwise.
Very close together, they walked up the hill, through their own Feather Castle.
Patricia Veryan
was born in England and moved to the United States following World War II. The author of several critically acclaimed Georgian and Regency series, including the Sanguinet Saga, she now lives in Kirkland, Washington. You can sign up for email updates
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Contents
Copyright © 1982 by Patricia Veryan
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eISBN 9781250108760
First eBook edition: November 2015
