The Grace of a Duke (24 page)

“Please, do not,” she managed between sobs. “I will heal,” she spoke softly, hiccuping as she said the words.

Gisborn held her for a very long time, until he no longer felt her labored breathing and was sure she had stopped crying. He carefully rebuttoned the back of her gown, his breath washing warmth over her shoulder as he did so. When she looked up to meet his gaze, he swallowed and looked away.

He did not expect she would ever love him, nor did he want her to, given his feelings for Sarah. But he felt affection for her now, and he had hoped they could at least share that someday. But every day she had that scar would be a day she remembered how it got there – and why. “I fear that if you are my wife, you shall hate me each and every day you see me, for the rest of my life, because of what your father has done to you,” he said quietly. “Because of me,” he added fiercely, his face a portrait of pain and his eyes bright with unshed tears.

Charlotte considered his words and knew that, to some degree, he was right. But she shook her head. “I do not think I could ever
hate
you, Henry,” she murmured, taking a breath and returning her eyes to meet his. She wasn’t even aware she had used his given name. “But ’tis true that I do not think I will ever forget.”

Gisborn let go his hold on her, once he was sure she could sit up on her own. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. “I will see to it that Ellsworth Park is returned to your family,” he said, his eyes closed as if he was in pain.

“No!” Charlotte nearly shouted, shaking her head as she took the handkerchief and dabbed at her damp cheeks and lower lashes. “You must keep it out of my cousin’s hands. It will be lost, otherwise,” she stated, seeing the surprise in his furrowed brows and blue eyes. “Truly. He gambles, and not well.” She continued to dab her eyes. “And when you’re next in London, you must call on my friend, Lady Hannah Slater. Her father is the Marquess of Devonville.” At Gisborn’s look of confusion, she added, “She has finally come out this past Season and will be one-and-twenty this year. She is a beauty, Gisborn, blonde, like me, but taller. She looks like a princess from a fairy tale. And she wants very much to bear children, and cares not a whit about whom she has them with,” she said quickly, wincing when she realized how her words must sound to Gisborn. His eyebrow cocked and a grin threatened to replace his look of grief. “I mean to say, she will bear you as many children as you wish, and she will be a good mother to them all. And she will love them.” Charlotte wiped her eyes and nose and gave the earl a wan smile, wondering if the man would consider her recommendation.

Gisborn nodded. “I know of her father, of course,” he whispered as he regarded her for a few moments. “And you think the two of us would suit?”

Charlotte nodded. “I do. I think you ... and Sarah ... will find her charming.”

Gisborn studied Charlotte’s face for a very long time. “I shall do as you say. I promise.”

Nodding, Charlotte took a deep breath. “Perhaps I shouldn’t mention it, but Lady Hannah does have a dog. A rather loyal dog,” she offered, hoping the news wouldn’t cause the earl to change his mind about meeting the daughter of the Marquess of Devonville. “She loves him very much.”

Gisborn’s eyebrows shot up, but the barest grin touched his lips. “An ankle nipper, I suppose?” he ventured. Thoughts of other aristocratic women with dogs came to him. He’d seen some who carried their small dogs in their reticules or held them in their arms as if they were babes. Most of those women had been older, though. Far older.

“Oh, no, Harold doesn’t nip ankles,” Charlotte countered rather quickly as she considered how to describe the Alpenmastiff that shared Hannah’s bed. Certainly the dog would behave with the earl, although if Harold sensed the least bit of danger from a man to his mistress, Harold would simply jump on the threat and knock him to the ground.

And then sit on him until a lawman could be summoned.

“Harold? She named her dog ‘Harold’?” Gisborn asked, the grin spreading a bit. He gazed at Charlotte as he watched her struggle with how to tell him about the dog. Impressed by her attempt to provide full disclosure of Lady Hannah, he reached out to capture her hand in his. He lifted it to his lips and kissed the back of it as Charlotte watched, her eyes widening as he did so.

“Harold MacDuff is a rather large dog, you see,” Charlotte offered then, suddenly nervous by the earl’s odd reaction. “An Alpenmastiff.”

Gisborn nodded his understanding of a rather large beast bred for rescuing those lost in mountain passes and snowstorms. A farmer very near Gisborn Hall had such a dog, a bitch who had given birth to puppies a few weeks before he left for London. Although he had never seen the dog or her litter, his household staff had been quite verbal in their fondness for the pups.

He lowered Charlotte’s hand before releasing it. “Thank you, Lady Charlotte. I shall use this information to good effect, I think,” he said, his mind already working on how he might woo Lady Hannah by way of her dog. “And I shall send word if I am in need of further help with regard to Lady Hannah. I do hope you will not mind.” This last was delivered in a manner that suggested the earl might actually pursue the younger woman.

With those words, Gisborn stood from the bench, took both of Charlotte’s hands in his, and kissed the backs of her fingers. “You will be welcome at Gisborn Hall anytime,” he said, his eyes bright. After a long moment, he took a deep breath. “Until we meet again, Lady Charlotte,” he said formally.

Charlotte watched with mixed emotions as he bowed and took his leave, winding his way along the garden path until he disappeared into the house.

Chapter 25

His Grace Makes a Proposal

Charlotte watched the earl as he walked away, part of her distraught over his sudden departure and another part relieved that he had taken his leave. A bit panicked that she had allowed him to go with the deed to Ellsworth Park, she calmed herself with the knowledge that her cousin would not be able to sell it to the highest bidder to fund yet more gambling debts. And she had to calm herself again when she thought of her dowry, wondering if there was any of it left to help her secure her future with a man who was willing to marry her because he loved her, not because she was to be his brood mare or because it was her duty to do so.

She stayed in the garden for another half-hour, allowing the sun to warm her face and dry her tears, her eyes closed so that she might concentrate on the sounds of the birds and the insects and the wind caressing the leaves and the feel of warm, moist lips kissing hers ...

Her eyes flew open to find Joshua standing over her, his lips breaking into a grin at the sight of her surprised expression. “You look like a beautiful flower just bloomed in the sun,” he murmured quietly.

“Oh?” she replied with a sigh, still trying to get her bearings. He looked like a rogue god standing over her, his dark hair glinting with golden highlights and his mask adding mystery and intrigue to the look of amusement on the part of his face that was visible.
His Grace with half a face, indeed,
she thought with another sigh.

“Gisborn told me he is off to London to call on Devonville’s daughter,” he said quietly. He didn’t add that Gisborn thought Joshua should pursue Lady Charlotte for himself.
She does not love you out of a sense of duty,
he’d said with a shake of his head and a manner that demanded he listen closely.
She simply does.
He thought the comment odd but hadn’t spent much time considering it. “Are you ... ?”

“I am fine,” Charlotte replied with a watery smile. “Thank you for ... for making me
consider
his offer. It was quite generous,” she murmured, her head nodding.
I have nothing to offer a husband now,
she thought, realizing that her original dowry was probably long gone, and now the Ellsworth lands in Oxfordshire were as well. Should her father die, her mother would need to keep the townhouse in London just to have a place to live.

Joshua nodded, and indicated a folded paper he held in one hand. “I received this from Garrett a few moments ago,” he spoke softly, holding it out to her. “May I join you?”

Charlotte inhaled sharply, realizing she hadn’t stood upon his arrival to afford him a proper curtsy. “I apologize, Your Grace,” she said as she got to her feet and then did so, surprising him.

“You needn’t ..,” he started to say, and then sighed. He bowed over her hand and sat down to her right, where Gisborn had been earlier. She glanced over to see a side of him that he usually kept turned away from her. Although he wore his mask, the edges of his scars were evident as was the area where the hair was still thin behind his ear.

Charlotte took the paper from Joshua and opened it. She read the lengthy description of everything the estate manager had discovered that morning and early afternoon, not surprised about any of Garrett’s findings. It was almost a relief to know that what she had guessed was really true.

There was no dowry.

Her cousin had seen to that. But her father’s shrewdness had at least saved Ellsworth Park from Nicholas. She puzzled over the last line of writing, though, and looked up to find Joshua watching her.

“He will see to Nicholas’ arrest?” she questioned, not understanding. “Did he obtain the funds from my father’s accounts ... illegally?”

Joshua wet his lips and reached over to take one of Charlotte’s hands in his. “Probably not, but he did hire a man to set fire to Wisborough Oaks.”

Charlotte was up and holding a hand over her mouth before Joshua could react. He stood as well, watching as Charlotte figured it out for herself, her changing expressions suggesting she was about to be sick or to faint.

“He knew you were here, of course. You said so yourself. Do you think he intended for you ..?”

“Yes, I am sure he did,” Charlotte interrupted, her voice quite harsh. Her head was bobbing up and down, her anger barely in check. “He gambled away my dowry and knew I would ... I would harangue him for the rest of his days for it,” she explained in her barely controlled anger, tears threatening again.

Joshua reached out and placed a hand on one of her arms, pulling her gently toward him. “May I commit an act of impropriety?” he wondered, seeing her distress and wanting to ease it as much as he could. At her confused expression, he wrapped his other arm around the back of her waist and pulled her against his body, allowing her face to rest in the small of his left shoulder. She felt a mix of horror – at learning her cousin would sooner see her dead by a fire than deal with her wrath – and amusement at Joshua. The man had come to her bedchamber for two nights now to sleep with her, cradling her against the warmth and hardness of his naked body, presumedly to see to it she did not further hurt herself during her sleep.

A simple hug in the garden seemed very innocent in comparison.

He held her like that for several minutes, gently rubbing the small of her back and kissing her hair. After a time, he lowered his arms and then his entire body to the ground, kneeling before her. He took her left hand in his. “Lady Charlotte Bingham,” he said, a very serious expression appearing on his face. “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” he asked gently.

Charlotte’s eyes widened in surprise.
How dare he do this now?
she thought in dismay. “I have no dowry!” she countered defensively, nearly stamping a foot to make her point.

Joshua hadn’t expected her reaction and suddenly wasn’t sure what to do. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a ring, a gold band with a single sapphire mounted on it. Sliding it on the fourth finger of her left hand, he raised his eyebrows and regarded her. “And I don’t care,” he answered truthfully.

Left speechless, Charlotte stared down at her hand as if seeing it for the first time. Her other hand moved to cover her mouth. “Oh, Joshua,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Is that a yes?” he wondered, still looking up at her. He had begun to squint, what with the setting sun directly in his eyes, and now his bent leg was protesting.

Charlotte reached down and helped to pull him up. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Make it one more ‘yes’ and I’ll marry you Saturday,” Joshua offered, a glint in his eye.

My birthday!
“Yes!” Charlotte shouted happily, her arms wrapping around Joshua to hug him so hard it nearly hurt. “Oh, I thought you would never ask,” Charlotte murmured into the fabric of his topcoat. She inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent of sandalwood and brandy and citrus.

Joshua nearly chuckled, but he knew the sound would be caught in his throat. He’d almost asked her last night while he was brushing her hair. How different things would be today if he had!

What would Gisborn have done if he found his betrothed already affianced? Perhaps the man would have made a vocal protest before leaving in anger. This way, at least, the earl had left, although disappointed, on good terms with both Charlotte and him. And there had been the implication that in being given the lands in Oxfordshire, Gisborn would be a good steward so that part of them might one day be a suitable home for one or more of Charlotte’s children.

My children,
he realized suddenly, the thought a very humbling one.

“If you allow it, I would like to inform Mrs. Gates as soon as possible. She seems to think there is much to be done to prepare for a wedding,” Joshua said in a teasing voice, not adding that he thought the woman had been planning his wedding ever since the fire.

“Of course,” Charlotte replied, her head nodding against his coat. “And I must write to my parents. Would it be agreeable with your if I invited them to the ceremony?” Her head had come away from his chest to look up at him.

Joshua smiled and inhaled deeply. “Of course. And might I invite Grandby?” he wondered, thinking their mutual godfather should be present as a witness.

“Oh, yes,” Charlotte breathed, her smile broadening. “And where will we marry?” she wondered then. “What about a license?”

Smiling, Joshua rubbed her lower back in assurance. “There is a chapel up in Plaistow,” he explained, “And a marriage license in my pocket.” He heard as well as felt Charlotte’s breath catch.

“When ..?” she wondered, her brows furrowing as she considered his words.

“Yesterday. I paid a visit to the archdeacon whilst I was in Chichester,” Joshua whispered. “I nearly asked you last night, but ...” Charlotte’s breath caught again, and she finally left it out slowly.

“All this time ... you were willing to marry me?” she asked in a quiet voice, wondering when he had changed his mind about matrimony.
And to think, I might have agreed to the Earl of Gisborn’s proposal!

“I am now, and that is all that matters,” he replied carefully, still not satisfied that his marriage would be one of convenience and not one based on love, or at the very least, affection.

Charlotte stiffened, but nodded her understanding. Finally looking up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, she lifted herself on her toes and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Wainwright, I shall do everything in my power to be the best wife you could ever hope for,” she whispered.

Joshua’s eyebrows cocked and he regarded her for a moment. “You can start by calling me ‘Joshua’ when we are alone,” he replied with just the slightest hint of humor. His lips found hers then, fitting to them in a gentle kiss that he slowly deepened when he felt her arms reach up to wrap around his shoulders. He felt her wince as her movement stretched her wound. Reaching up with his hands, he took hers from his body and lowered them gently, and then finally ended the kiss by pulling away.

“There is much to do,” he said, a bit breathless. Kissing her hair, he bowed and quickly left the garden, leaving behind a very startled and somewhat befuddled bride-to-be.