Whirlwind Affair

Chapter 25

The next morning, with bright sunshine pouring through her bedchamber window, Allie adjusted the cream fichu Elizabeth had given her, then examined her reflection in the cheval glass. She wished she owned a gown in a color other than black to wear on this happy occasion, but as she did not, at least the ivory-colored lace at her throat somewhat relieved her unrelenting somber attire. There was her beautiful gold gown, of course, but it was not a garment suited for the daytime. Soon… soon she would have pastel gowns to wear, and she would pack away these morbid clothes with the rest of her past and embrace her bright future.

Leaving her bedchamber, she had to force herself not to skip down the corridor and giggle. Last night she and Robert had agreed to announce their engagement to the entire family during breakfast this morning. Amazement filled her that a mere twenty-four hours ago her future had seemed so bleak, and now she was near to bursting with happiness and anticipation of starting her life again. Here. With Robert. And once the announcement was made, she planned to write a long, newsy letter to her family, inviting them to visit. To see Mama and Papa, Katherine and the boys again… yes, the future looked very bright indeed.

She'd just started down the wide staircase when she saw Fenton, on his way up. "Mrs. Brown," he said when they met halfway. "I was just on my way to deliver you a message. There is a Mrs. Morehouse here to see you. She awaits you in the drawing room."

Allie frowned. "I do not know anyone by that name."

"She lives in the village. Her husband worked in the Bradford Hall stables before his death."

"Why does she wish to see me?"

"She did not say. She only indicated that it was important she see you right away."

Puzzled and curious, Allie followed Fenton to the drawing room. Opening the door, he announced, "Mrs. Brown," then withdrew, closing the door behind him.

Allie walked into the room, offering a smile to the woman standing near the French windows. She was small and plump, with gray hair tucked beneath a dark green bonnet, which matched her pelisse. She clutched her reticule and appeared nervous.

After licking her lips, she inclined her head. "Good mornin', Mrs. Brown. My name is Sara Morehouse."

"How do you do, Mrs. Morehouse. Fenton said you wished to see me." She studied the woman's face, but felt no flash of recognition. "Have we met?"

"No, ma'am. But I need to speak to you, just the same."

"Of course," Allie agreed, totally at sea. "Would you like to sit down?"

Mrs. Morehouse nodded. After they settled themselves on the brocade settee, she said, " 'Tis about Lord Robert. You're makin' a terrible mistake."

Allie's brows shot upward. "What do you mean?"

"Yesterday I received a letter from the duchess. Lovely, kind lady the duchess is, always takin' time to correspond with me, tellin' me about the family. In this letter she mentioned that Lord Robert had fallen in love and asked for your hand, but you'd refused him. Because of the crime he'd committed. Because of the fire." Mrs. Morehouse worried the strings of her reticule. "He won't tell you the truth about that night 'cause he's honorable and bound by his word. He made a promise to my husband, and he's kept it all these years to protect us, but I cannot allow it to deprive him of a wife and marriage and the family he deserves." She drew herself up and lifted her chin. "You need to know, and I am not bound by any such vow."

"Mrs. Morehouse." Allie reached out and touched the agitated woman's hand. "I appreciate this, but I assure you, it is not necessary for you to tell me anything. I accepted Lord Robert's proposal last evening. I love him deeply, and his past does not matter."

The older woman nodded slowly. "I'm glad to hear you say it, Mrs. Brown. And I'm very happy for you and Lord Robert. You sayin' that I don't need to tell you just proves I'm right to trust you with the truth. Lord Robert and the duchess both love you, and that's proof enough that you're honorable." Her voice took on a brisk edge. "I know how secrets can eat away at a soul, and I don't want any secrets between Lord Robert and his wife. He risked everything for my family. It's about time I gave him something in return. I only ask that you not tell anyone else. For the sake of my daughter and her family."

"All right."

Mrs. Morehouse's fingers tightened around her reticule, turning her knuckles white. "Mrs. Brown, Lord Robert did not start the fire in the smithy that night. My husband Nate did."

Confusion filled Allie and she frowned. "But… how is that possible? Robert told me he caused the fire. He said he was responsible, that a building was lost. That a man lost his life."

"Lord Robert took the blame for startin' that fire to save my husband and my family, but it was my Nate who struck the match and set the smithy ablaze."

Allie's head swam with questions. She managed to push one word past her suddenly dry lips. "Why?"

"Four years ago, Cyril Owens, the village blacksmith, forced himself on my daughter Hannah. Nate and I, we didn't know what was wrong with Hannah, and we were so worried about her. She was sixteen at the time, and almost overnight she changed from smilin' and laughin' into withdrawn and morose."

Pity filled Allie, and she once again laid her hand over Mrs. Morehouse's. "I'm so sorry. What a terrible ordeal for anyone to suffer."

Mrs. Morehouse nodded, and her eyes dampened with unshed tears. "Lord Robert discovered the truth one night when he overheard Cyril braggin' in a London pub. He came directly to Nate and told him, promisin' to go with Nate the next day to talk to the duke so the duke could dispense justice. But Nate… he didn't wait. He was a good man, a law-abidin' man, but after hearin' what Cyril had done to Hannah, it were like somethin' inside him snapped. He went to the smithy. He let the horses out, then doused the place with lantern oil and set it ablaze."

"Dear God," Allie whispered.

"The mornin' after the fire, Cyril went to the duke, wantin' Nate charged with arson. Wanted to see him hang. Said he saw Nate lettin' the horses go, then settin' his business on fire. So there we were, Nate bedridden, fightin' for every breath 'cause his lungs were so damaged from breathin' in the smoke, both of us expectin' him to be hauled off in chains to be deported or hung for arson. Much as we wanted to accuse Cyril of rapin' Hannah, we knew it would be her word against his, and no matter the outcome, Hannah's reputation would be ruined.

"Then next thing I know, Lord Robert came to our cottage. Told us everything was fixed, not to worry. Cyril was gone- moved to another village, somewhere in Northumberland, and that he'd been fully reimbursed for the loss of his personal items. And that the smithy would be rebuilt at no cost to us."

She fixed a stare on Allie. "Do you know how that happened, Mrs. Brown?" Before Allie could answer, she continued, "Lord Robert had gone to his brother, the duke, and told not only the duke but his entire family and Cyril and all the village that he himself had started the fire. The poor boy-I should say man-he was so guilt stricken. Told me and Nate he felt responsible-as responsible as if he'd struck the match himself. If he hadn't told Nate about Cyril hurtin' Hannah, then none of it would have happened."

Mrs. Morehouse's bottom lip trembled. "We knew it wasn't Lord Robert's fault, but there was no consolin' him or talkin' him out of it. He said if people believed Nate started the fire, our life in the village, and Hannah's future, would be ruined. He knew the talk about himself would eventually die down because of his family's influence, and not have such adverse effects on his future."

She pulled a handkerchief from her reticule, then dabbed at her eyes. "The gossip spread quickly. 'The duke's brother started the fire!' they said. 'He's an arsonist! A criminal!' Things would have gone easier on him, silenced the worst of the gossip, if he'd claimed the fire was an accident, but he didn't. His honor ran too deep to diminish what he considered his responsibility. He just said he was responsible for the fire and that was all. I don't know for certain, but I'd guess that Lord Robert's family suspected there were more to the story, but they decided to trust him.

"As for me and Nate, we were completely torn. We didn't want Lord Robert takin' the blame, but there was Hannah to consider. Her future. A girl who's been raped, whose pa is a criminal-she has no future.

"But then things got worse, because two weeks after the fire, Nate died." A tear rolled unchecked down her cheek. "Lord Robert blamed himself for his death, and no words from me would change his mind. In his mind, he was responsible for a crime bein' committed and for Nate's death. Just before Nate died, Lord Robert promised him he'd never tell about Nate's role in the fire, allowin' my Nate to go to his death in peace, knowin' his actions wouldn't ruin Hannah's future. Lord Robert, who was liable to his brother for the destruction of the smithy, saw to the financial reparations. Once the smithy was rebuilt and the villagers saw Lord Robert was as good as his word, the talk died down, folks callin' the incident a youthful indiscretion gone bad, most of them even feel in' sorry for Lord Robert as his father had died only a few months earlier. And truth be told, no one in the village was sorry to see Cyril gone. Heard he died of lung disease a couple years back, and no one here mourned his passing."

Another fat tear rolled down her cheek. "Even though Lord Robert insisted he didn't want it, I made monthly payments to him-not much, you understand-but at least it was a little something toward repaying him. But do you know what he did with the money? He set up a trust with it, and last year, when my Hannah married-a fine young man, too, who loves her- he gave the money to her and Edward as a weddin' gift. And to this day Lord Robert has seen to it that I'm provided for." She paused and blew her nose with noisy gusto. "You could not ask for a finer man than Lord Robert."

Allie couldn't speak, could barely nod. Emotion tightened her throat, and hot tears pushed behind her eyes. Dear God, what he'd done for this family. Risking his own reputation to save a man from prison-or worse-and his wife and daughter from ruination. A sob rose in her throat. How could she ever have been foolish enough to compare such a man to David?

Swallowing, she pressed Mrs. Morehouse's hands between her own. "Mrs. Morehouse, I want you to know how much I appreciate you telling me all this, and I wish to assure you again that I will not ever betray your confidence."

Mrs. Morehouse nodded, then smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Brown. My Hannah and her husband are expectin' their first child soon. And it's all possible because of Lord Robert. I couldn't let anything deny him the happiness he allowed my daughter to find." She stood. "I'll not keep you any longer. May God smile upon both of you."

Allie escorted her to the foyer, where she shook the woman's hand warmly, then bid her good-bye. No sooner had Fenton closed the door after her than Robert strolled into the foyer. The snowy bandage encircling his head lent him a rakish air, as did the sling supporting his arm. His warm smile heated Allie down to her toes.

"Did we have company already this morning?" he asked.

"I had a visitor," she said, watching him closely. "Mrs. Morehouse from the village."

He went still. Without looking away from her, he said, "Will you please excuse us for a moment, Fenton?"

"Yes, sir." The butler walked down the corridor, turning out of sight.

"What did Mrs. Morehouse want?" he asked.

Instead of answering immediately, Allie walked to him. When she stood directly in front of him, she took his face between her hands and looked into his eyes. Such beautiful eyes. Such a beautiful man. And how incredibly beautiful that he loved her.

"She told me about the fire, Robert," she whispered. "Told me everything. About Nate, and her daughter… what you did for them."

He appeared momentarily stunned, then pain flashed in his eyes. "I didn't do anything for them, Allie. I was responsible for that fire."

She laid her fingers over his lips. "No. Not any more than I was responsible for what David did. We cannot control other people's actions."

"Why… how did she know to come here? To ask for you?"

" Elizabeth wrote to her, telling her you'd asked me to marry you and that I'd refused you because of your past."

" Elizabeth?" he echoed, frowning. "Why would she do such a thing? She doesn't know the truth about the fire…" His voice trailed off, and they shared a long look. Finally he said, "Yes, well, as we both know, it is not always necessary to tell Elizabeth something in order for her to know it."

"Robert… what you did for that family… I do not know the words to express my admiration." A tiny smile pulled at her lips. "Actually, I believe I do. I can say, T hold you in the deepest admiration, Robert. You are the most decent, honorable man I've ever known. And I love you. Passionately' "

His eyes darkened, and he grabbed her hand. Raising it to his lips, he pressed a warm kiss into her palm. "How passionately?"

Heat shot through her veins, tempered by the laugh brought on by his exaggerated leer.

"Extremely passionately. But the foyer is hardly the place to prove it."

"I hope you don't want a long engagement."

A loud ahem sounded from the staircase. They turned and saw Elizabeth coming down the stairs. Her gaze bounced between them, her expression reflecting a combination of trepidation and hope. When she joined them, she said, "Good morning."

Robert inclined his head. "Good morning, Elizabeth. Allie and I were just discussing Mrs. Morehouse's visit this morning."

Relief and unease flashed across Elizabeth 's features. "I see."

"You know the truth about the fire," he said.

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

"You never mentioned it."

"Because it was none of my business. And it still isn't. But when I realized the truth would keep you and Allie apart, knew that your promise to Nate bound you to secrecy, I wrote to Mrs. Morehouse and mentioned your unfortunate romantic situation, hoping she would come here. She could tell Allie without breaking her word." Her gaze shifted between them. "I hope you will forgive my interference."

Robert drew a slow, deep breath, then looked at Allie and cocked a brow. "I don't know. Should we forgive her?"

Allie huffed out a dramatic sigh, then shrugged. "We might as well. If we claim we don't, she'll only need to touch us to know we're fibbing."

He turned to Elizabeth. "Very well. My bride-to-be says we should forgive you. Therefore, we do."

A slow grin eased over Elizabeth 's face. "Bride-to-be?"

"Yes. In fact, the lady accepted my proposal last evening- even before talking with Mrs. Morehouse."

Unmistakable relief filled Elizabeth 's eyes, and she opened her arms to Allie. They shared a tight hug, and Allie whispered into her ear, "Thank you. For everything."

Beaming, Elizabeth drew Robert into their circle and the three of them shared an embrace. As they pulled back, a small frown pinched between Elizabeth 's brows.

"Give me your hand," she said to Robert. After he'd complied, she turned to Allie. "Give me one of yours." Allie slipped her hand into Elizabeth 's. Elizabeth closed her eyes, and for several seconds silence reigned. Then she opened her eyes.

"Is something amiss?" Robert asked, looking worried.

"No. But I would strongly suggest a whirlwind engagement."

"We were thinking the same thing-but why do you say that?"

She leaned closer to them, smiled, then whispered, "Because your whirlwind affair has resulted in…" Her gaze settled on Allie's midsection in a meaningful way. "A baby."

Robert stared at her. "Are you certain?"

"Oh, yes." She turned to Allie. "And if you thought Austin was a mass of father-to-be nerves…" She shook her head and chuckled. "The Axminster rug is in for a terrible time with Robert." She patted them both on the cheek. "Now wipe those stunned looks off your faces, and I'll see you in the breakfast room. And I promise to act very surprised when you make your betrothal announcement." With that, she headed down the corridor.

Allie stared after her, stunned into silence. Finally she turned to Robert, whose gaze was alternating between her face and abdomen with an expression akin to awe.

"Did she say 'baby'?" Allie asked when she could find her voice.

"She did." He cleared his throat. "I hate to say I told you so, but…" A huge grin spread over his face.

Allie pressed her palms to her midsection. Tears pushed at her eyes, and unable to be contained, they spilled over onto her cheeks. Robert's gaze immediately turned stricken, and he gently grasped her shoulder. "Sweetheart, don't cry-"

"I'm not crying."

"Well, you're doing a fine imitation of it." He cupped her face in his broad palm and stroked the dampness from her cheeks with his thumbs.

She looked into his eyes, overwhelmed. "I never thought…" A sound of pure joy escaped her. "I'd buried the desire to be a mother years ago. Along with so many other dreams. And now they're all coming true."

Robert looked into her eyes brimming with happiness and love. Here was his girl from the sketch. The woman he'd waited a lifetime for. "My darling Allie. Of course they are. Did I not tell you that I always play to win?"

He drew her close and captured her lips in a deep, tender kiss. That "certain something," that indefinable magic he'd felt from the very first time he'd touched her, rushed through his veins, and utter contentment filled him.

At last.