Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

A ll of Lennox House was awake when the wagon rolled to a stop. Half a dozen footmen ran down the steps to meet them. Diana watched anxiously as Rafe was carried inside. Joanna, Regina, and Rosalind were at the entryway, along with Mrs. Chesterfield, who held Isla’s hand. The little girl watched her father with tear-filled eyes as he was carried past her up the stairs. She clutched her little doll to her chest and made not one sound.

It was the child’s silence that broke through the state of numbness Diana had drifted into, pushing her into action. Isla shouldn’t see Rafe like this, bloodied, broken, fighting for his life. She rushed over to the child and hoisted her up into her arms, turning the girl’s face away and cupping the back of her head with one hand. Isla trembled in her arms, just as she had that day they’d been trapped in the storm.

“It’s all right, my little darling. It will be all right, you’ll see,” she promised the girl. She would do whatever she had to do to keep that promise, for both of them. “Mrs. Chesterfield, would you get some warm milk and biscuits? I’m taking Isla back to the nursery. She should be in bed, resting.”

“ No! I want to stay. Please?” The little girl curled her arms tight around Diana’s neck. Such a strong protective instinct surged up within Diana, as though this child was truly hers to love and protect forever.

Diana brushed the girl’s curls away from her face. “I know, my darling. But this is not a memory you should have of your father. I’ll make sure you see him the moment he feels better.”

She carried Isla to the nursery and had just reached the top of the stairs when Brock and the village doctor raced past them. Neither man said a word as they passed, hurrying instead to Rafe’s room.

When Diana reached the nursery, she set the girl down next to her bed and pulled back the covers. She patted the bed, and Isla crawled into the center of it.

“Will Papa be all right?” Isla asked, those sweet doe eyes so full of trust. This child had known so much darkness, so much loss. How could she ever bear to lose her father?

In an instant, Rafe’s words came back to her like a lightning strike: “I would never fail my child. Never.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “He will get better, I promise.” Though her mind knew it was not a promise she could make, her heart told her that Rafe would not let Isla down. He would break every rule there was to come back to them.

She saw Rafe so clearly now, more clearly than ever before. Her mysterious highwayman, her teasing gentleman, her prayer in the dark to once more find the light. He was as multifaceted as any jewel he’d ever stolen, as beautifully complex as the night sky without a moon to hide the stars.

She brushed a hand through Isla’s soft russet curls and kissed the girl’s head. She froze as she found herself staring at something that nearly stopped her heart.

Two portraits sitting up on a shelf beside the bed came level with Diana’s eyes. Time seemed to stretch outward into an infinite moment before she snapped back to herself again. Diana sucked in a shocked breath. It was impossible . It made no sense.

“Miss Fox?” Isla turned to see what Diana was fixated on.

“Isla, who... who are these people?” Diana asked. She lifted up the set of portraits and sat down on the bed beside the child. Isla crawled over and touched the gilt frames in a familiar way, as though she’d done it a thousand times.

“That’s my mama. My first mama. And this is my other papa,” she whispered. “They died.”

Diana felt her head spin as fractured memories and dreams about mirrors in a world she could not join her family in came crashing in around her. It was as though the mirror in her mind had shattered, sending glass shards in a hundred different directions, and at last she saw the truth she’d been too afraid to face in her dreams.

“Isla, what was your mother’s name?”

The little girl stared at the woman’s portrait with soft, sad eyes. “Papa used to say, ‘Sweet Ellie, love of my life.’”

Diana stared at the woman in the frame. “Ellie... Was that short for Eleanor?”

Isla shrugged. “I dinna ken,” the little girl said.

Diana’s elder sister’s pleasing countenance gaze back at her through layers of oil paint. Eleanor looked young, vibrant, beautiful, and wonderful .

She pointed to the portrait of the handsome young man. “And what was your papa’s name?” She’d never met the man Eleanor had danced with on that fateful night of a long-ago Merton country ball. She’d only known the man had been Scottish and they’d run away a few days later. Eleanor had left a note saying goodbye, saying that someday she’d come home to her family. Only she never had. Diana, brokenhearted though she was, had understood that the house had been too lonely without their mother.

“She called him Angus.”

Diana rubbed her thumb gently over the pair of frames the way Isla had. Eleanor had died... as had her husband. Isla was their daughter.

Isla is my niece. That truth was both sweet and heartbreaking. She’d never wanted to believe her sister was dead, but now she knew for sure. And yet her sister’s daughter had come into her life like a tiny miracle. It was equal parts sad and wondrous.

“Isla.” Her voice broke as she tried to speak. “I think... your mother was my sister.”

The girl stared up at her with surprise, and Diana wondered how she’d been so blind to the truth for so long. Isla was so much like Eleanor. She might favor her father in hair and eye color, but her face, her expressions, they were entirely Eleanor. The answer to that last painful mystery in her life had been right in front of her all this time.

She replayed every conversation she’d had with Rosalind and Rafe about Isla’s parents. They had died of an illness, and Eleanor... Oh God, Eleanor’s body had been taken to be sold to a doctor, and Rafe and his family had saved Isla from the body snatchers.

She wrapped her arms around Isla and pulled her even closer as tears fell freely down her cheeks. The last bit of her stubborn strength failed her at last, and Diana broke, truly broke as everything she’d held on to since her mother’s death clawed its way to the surface. Isla cried too, and they held each other fast until they both cried themselves out.

“Will ye still be my new mama?” Isla asked in a quiet voice. Diana smiled past her tears.

“Yes... you’ve always been mine . You are my niece, and now you are my daughter. I will never leave you, sweetheart.” It was likely Isla didn’t fully understand just what Diana had vowed to her, but someday she would. She would learn that destiny had brought Eleanor’s daughter home, because Rafe Lennox’s heart was made of gold.

“How is he?”

Rafe heard his mother’s voice through the fog of pain.

Another voice came through more clearly. “The damage to his back is severe, but I have cleaned and stitched the wounds that pose the greatest danger. The bandages must be kept clean and changed daily to prevent a fever. He will need to sleep on his stomach, and I would recommend a diet of beef to help with the loss of blood. I imagine he will have to rebuild the muscles of his back from the damage done by the whip, but he is young and healthy, so there is every hope he will recover. Once his skin has healed, he should practice his usual movements else his muscles will never regain their strength.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” he heard Ashton say.

Rafe wanted to move but had not the strength to do so.

“Ash,” he whispered. Even that single utterance scraped every nerve in his throat.

A comforting hand settled on the back of his head. “I’m here, little brother. Don’t try to speak.”

“Diana...” He hissed as pain shot up his back from the effort of speaking.

“She’s safe. She is looking after Isla for you. Everyone is safe, do you understand? Now be quiet. You need to rest.”

It was as if his older brother knew what he needed to hear the most. Rafe relaxed and drifted to sleep.

He was unsure how long he had slept when he woke again, but when he licked his chapped lips, he felt the presence of someone nearby.

“Water,” he said.

A glass was carefully brought to his lips and he drank slowly, grateful for the assistance. When he found the strength to open his eyes, he saw his mother held the glass. Her blue eyes watched his face, and he saw dried tracks of tears covering her cheeks. His mother had been crying for him ?

“Drink a little more for me, dear boy,” she whispered, as though he were a child. “The doctor said you must drink.”

“I’m sorry.” He let out a breath and fought off a cold shudder.

His mother’s eyes flashed. “You’re never to say those words again, not to me. I am the one who is sorry.” She bit her lip, and tears streamed down his mother’s usually controlled face.

She set the glass on the table and smoothed a cool hand over his brow, brushing hair out of his eyes. “Ashton told me everything.”

“He told you?” What had his brother said? He was too afraid to ask.

Regina nodded. “You didn’t cause your father’s death, Rafe. You were a little boy who wanted to bring him home. His choices were never your responsibility. He chose to leave our house that night, and he chose to put himself in that position. He stepped onto the road after he’d been injured and his balance was unsteady. None of these things are your fault.”

Her fingers trembled as she sucked in a breath. “It is I who failed you, my darling boy. I never asked Ashton or you what happened. I assumed that you’d done something because Ashton blamed you. But he was a boy too. What does a lad of fifteen know about grief except that one can, temporarily, avoid it with anger?

“But I shouldn’t have made the same mistake. I knew Malcolm’s vices would someday lead to this. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.” She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, yet she didn’t look away from him as she wept. “The years I’ve wasted... the years I should’ve had with you... my beautiful boy who only ever tried to be a son any mother would be proud of. And I am proud, Rafe, so very proud of you.”

“Mother...” It felt like every rib was breaking in his chest as he absorbed her words and the love that layered them.

“I will spend the rest of my life missing your father, but I will not miss a moment more with you . If you’d let me, I wish to start again, to be the mother you deserve.”

“I should’ve done something,” Rafe confessed, his voice breaking. “If I’d only gone home as he’d wished, he might not have seen me and tried to cross the road.”

Regina shook her head. “He chose to cross the street, Rafe. You must stop believing you could have done anything differently to change his actions.”

Rafe blinked away thick tears and tried to regain his shaking breath. “But I am not the son you should have had.”

His mother stroked the backs of her fingers over his cheek, her eyes bright.

“Nonsense. I would change nothing about you, Rafe. Even if you could turn back the hands of time and fix every mistake you’ve made, you wouldn’t be this Rafe. I would never erase the man you’ve become, not even to have your father back.”

Rafe moved his arm, carefully reaching out to clasp his mother’s hand.

“I’ve done a great many things I regret...”

A twinkle sparkled in his mother’s eyes. “If you mean those nocturnal activities involving masks and pistols, well, they brought you to Diana, didn’t they? I know it might not be the most conventional method of courtship, but since when have any of my children ever done things conventionally? Thomasina was compromised by a notorious rake—thank God he’s made a marvelous husband. Ashton blackmailed his lovely wife into marriage. Joanna ran off to Scotland to elope with her charming Highlander.” She grinned at him. “What’s one more wild story to share with one’s grandchildren?”

The tightness in Rafe’s chest eased as he realized his mother was right. If he had never stopped that coach, if he had never met Diana, then he would never have found the star in the night sky leading home to his family.

“No more regrets,” his mother said soothingly. “Do you understand? Not for any of us.”

His eyes drifted closed once more as his mother continued to stroke his hair.

When he woke next, candlelight illuminated the room. Ashton sat in a chair close by, his fingers steepled as he watched Rafe. His blond hair was a little tousled, as though he’d tugged too hard at the strands. He seemed to be contemplating something.

“That’s not a look I like,” Rafe muttered. “I always get lectured when you have that look.”

Ashton’s lips twitched. “On the contrary, it’s not a lecturing look, it’s a look of...” Ashton paused and said slowly, “Deep clarity.”

“Deep clarity?”

“Yes. I was thinking about how things would’ve been different if you hadn’t been a part of my life. Part of this family. We wouldn’t be a family.”

Rafe moved to look more clearly at Ashton’s face. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Ashton lowered his hands. “You see, if you hadn’t robbed Rosalind’s coach, she never would’ve walked to this house in the storm and never would have fallen ill.”

“Are you saying that I almost killed your wife?” Rafe chuckled, but it hurt like the devil. “Because if memory serves, she almost killed me when she bloody shot me in the shoulder.”

“What I am trying to say is that when Rosalind fell ill, I fell in love with her. But even then, I wouldn’t have married her... not until you tricked her into that chess match against me and I won her hand in marriage.” Ashton let out a slow breath. “I wouldn’t have my wife—or my son, for that matter—without you.”

A lump formed in Rafe’s throat. He’d never thought of it that way. His eyes burned and even the tip of his nose tingled. Damnation. If his brother made him cry, it was going to hurt like hell.

“Joanna and Brock would never have made it to Gretna Green without your help, because you concealed their trail from me and my friends when we chased them. And let’s not forget that time when Joanna saved Brock’s life because you taught her how to fight.”

At this, Rafe grinned. “She was an excellent pupil. Knocked the wind out of me more than once.”

“Then there’s Isla. She never would’ve found her home and her life without you.” His lips curved in a fuller smile. “She would never have come home where she belongs.” There was something about the way Ashton said home this time that puzzled Rafe. The word seemed layered with more meaning, but Rafe was too tired to consider what.

Ashton leaned closer. “What I am saying, little brother, is that you are the heart of this family.” He placed a hand over Rafe’s and squeezed it gently. “And it is my turn to care for you the way you’ve always done for us. I will see that Foxglove has a full staff, and all repairs shall be done at once. You will have an annual income befitting your role in this family. Any dividends you earn upon your investments will be yours to do with as you wish.”

Rafe was stunned for a moment but soon recovered. “You know that money I gave you to invest was stolen, don’t you?” He didn’t want Ashton to rethink this later on. It was better to have the truth out now.

Ashton chuckled. “Yes, I am aware. But as I understand it, you never stole from those who couldn’t afford it, and a good portion seems to have belonged to the man I consider most responsible for our father’s death.”

Rafe’s smile died. “Caddington is truly dead?” He had only hazy memories, hearing Caddington’s voice as they tried to flee and Ashton firing a shot.

“Yes, thankfully,” Ashton replied. “I made sure of it.”

“I didn’t want you to carry the darkness of his death. I should have?—”

Ashton silenced him with a shush, as though Rafe were a child. Lord, he’d been treated more like a child today than he ever had in his life. He wasn’t quite sure he liked all the cooing and fussing.

“You carried your darkness long enough. It’s time I take the burden for a while. It is what brothers do.” Ashton’s words brought back memories of the pair of them when they’d been young, before their father died. He’d followed Ashton everywhere like a young pup, tail wagging, waiting for any sign of affection, and Ashton had given it to him freely. He’d ruffle Rafe’s hair and let him in on whatever adventure Ashton was involved in, and he’d always say, “Come along, Rafe, I’ll watch out for you. It’s what brothers do...”

This golden memory was buried so deep that Rafe had almost forgotten they’d once been so close. Could they be again? He dearly hoped so.

Rafe searched Ashton’s face.

“You let me grow into my strength, Rafe. You suffered while I became the man I am. It’s time I put that strength to use now.” He cleared his throat. “I know you are still feeling wretched, but there are two ladies who are quite desperate to see you. Are you willing to have visitors?”

“You had better mean Diana and Isla, although I admit I’m terrified they shall weep at the sight of me.”

“I think you’re well worth the tears, little brother.” Ashton walked over to the bedchamber door and opened it.

“He’s ready to see you, but no climbing on him, sweetling. He’s still hurt,” Ashton counseled as Isla came into view where Rafe lay on the bed. Her face was shining with fresh tears, which broke his heart. He never wanted to make his child cry.

“Kitten, I’m all right.” He held out a hand and she clutched it, holding on to him as though he were the only thing that mattered. And if that didn’t make his own eyes fill with tears...

Diana now entered the room. “Rafe,” she whispered, and he lifted his gaze to hers.

“I love the way you say my name—like a prayer.”

“That’s because it is.” Diana held up the two small painted portraits of Isla’s parents. He stared between her and the portraits, confused.

“All these years I prayed for answers, and you were the answer.” She held the portrait of Isla’s mother next to her own face. “Don’t you see?” she asked, her voice wavering with a wave of emotions he didn’t understand. He looked from the portrait to Diana.

Diana put a hand on Isla’s shoulder. “My sister Eleanor is Isla’s mother Ellie.”

“Diana is my aunt and my mama,” Isla said, noting how Rafe was slow to grasp the revelation he’d just been given.

“Your Eleanor is Ellie ?” He stared between Isla and Diana, his heart stretching, filling with grief and love all at once. “How did you discover this?”

“I knew in my heart the moment I saw this portrait,” said Diana. “But while you were resting, Mrs. Chesterfield showed me the bag you brought back from Scotland. It held Eleanor’s clothing and letters—letters that she addressed to me but had never sent. I read them all, Rafe.” Diana’s voice shook. “After her husband, Angus, died, she was going to come home to Foxglove, to bring Isla to our estate, only she never made it. You fulfilled my sister’s wishes and brought her daughter home to me.”

“Those letters were for you?” He’d briefly read through a few of them when he’d first met Isla. But he would have remembered if one had been addressed to Diana, and none had been. “The letters held no name for whom they were intended.”

Diana pulled one letter out of the pocket of her dress. She unfolded the paper and held it out to him so he could see the little symbol that was in place of a name.

“Yes, she always drew a little cat’s face,” Rafe said. “It’s one of the reasons I call Isla ‘kitten.’ It made me think of her mother.”

“It’s a kit, actually, not a kitten. A baby fox. Eleanor always called me ‘little fox’ because I was the youngest member of the Fox family.”

Rafe stared at the letter, thinking of how a strange twist of fate had put those letters and that child into his path.

All this time Rafe had held Diana’s past and Isla’s future in that bag he’d carried all the way from Edinburgh. It was as though fate had pulled him toward Diana, their meeting inevitable somehow.

Isla looked between Rafe and Diana. Her tiny fingers were still tucked into Rafe’s hand. “Will she still be my new mama?”

Diana bent to kiss Isla’s forehead and placed her hand over Rafe and Isla’s joined palms. “Of course. It’s the three of us from now on,” she promised. “ Always .” She echoed the vows they’d made that day in the library when she’d agreed to marry him.

Rafe felt like he could fly. Despite the pain, anything felt possible now.

“I may fall asleep,” Rafe said. “But I’d like for you both to stay.”

Diana lifted Isla onto the bed, and she lay down and promptly fell asleep.

“Huh, she beat me to it,” he muttered.

Diana lingered near the edge of the bed by Rafe, unsure of herself.

“I need to return something to you.” Rafe lifted his wrist that still bore the pearl necklace as a bracelet. “This belongs with you.” He sensed her hesitation. “You said it was your mother’s. It belongs with you.”

“I’d almost forgotten,” Diana admitted. “It seems so silly to have worried about such a small thing when we first met.” She undid the clasp of the necklace and slipped it off his wrist with great care before she fastened it around her neck. “And to think, all this time you held my true pearl—Isla.”

“I saw how much it meant that night when you left it in my care,” Rafe said. “I was careful with it, just as I will always be careful with you. You’re my treasure, Diana.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. “You must stop being so wonderful. I cannot cry anymore.”

He chuckled, ignoring the flash of pain it caused. “As long as they’re happy tears, I won’t apologize.”

“Rogue,” she admonished with a little smile.

“ Your rogue,” he said. “I love you, my little fire drake. I vow to love you with every breath in me, with every bit of my soul.”

She knelt by the bed, bringing her face close to his. Her brown eyes were bright with heat and shone with the light of the vast and beautiful universe that Diana held within her.

“I love you, Rafe. I love you with all that I am and all that I will be. You saved me—you gave me back myself. I’d got lost somewhere along the way, and you brought me home.” She leaned in and kissed him, then looked over at Isla beside him. “You brought us both home.” Then she kissed him again, and for far longer.

There was something exquisite about being kissed by the woman he loved even as his body burned with pain. But it was a pain he would endure again in an instant if he had to. It reminded him of how precious life was, how terribly short but infinitely sweet, if only one was brave enough to take the risk to live. To love.

His father had been right. He loved to take risks. And loving this woman and this child... they were his chance to live.

“God, I love you,” he whispered. She threaded her fingers into his hair and smiled, her lips moving over his in a way that gave him his old strength back.

“Sleep, my fair prince. You’ve slain your dragons and have earned your rest. Isla and I will be here when you wake. We have years ahead of us to do all that we desire.”

“Yes, we will.” And then, with her touching him with tender fingers, he did as she commanded.

After so many years of struggling to find his way alone in the dark, Rafe Lennox followed the light of love shining from Diana, his beautiful star, and found his way home.