Chapter Twenty-One

The bedchamber had a stale smell that suggested it had not been in use for some time. But once Maggie had changed and aired the bedding and lit candles, everything felt so much better. Catherine sighed as she sat in the chair before the looking glass while her maid brushed out her hair. She felt travel stained and weary, but a bath could only be a dream at this point. It had been a long day and despite dozing in the coach on the way here, all she wanted to do was sleep.

But her mind was racing.

“This is a strange household,” Maggie said. “If I did not know the earl lived here, I would wonder if it was abandoned. That sitting room... nothing had been touched for years.”

“It was Sebastian’s mother’s room.”

Maggie was right, time had stopped here when the countess died, and the clock had never started again. Sebastian had looked shocked when he understood the situation. Had he known how matters stood, would he have come home sooner?

“I’m not sure I would want to stay here for longer than a night.” Maggie finished braiding Catherine’s hair.

“Then it’s just as well we’re not,” Catherine replied tartly. “We will be leaving as early as possible in the morning.”

Maggie met her eyes in the mirror. “And Dodds is coming with us.”

At least there was that.

When Catherine climbed beneath the covers, she discovered that Maggie had warmed them with a warming pan, and weary tears stung her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate your care of me, Maggie. I don’t think I say that enough.”

Maggie’s grin was awry, as if she too was feeling the emotion of the moment. “What would you do without me, eh, my lady?”

Catherine knew that one day soon she may have to learn to do without her maid. But that was a worry for another time, and right now she needed to sleep.

Earlier, in the sitting room, Sebastian had held her in his arms. There was nothing sexual about it, just a craving for comfort and closeness. She had wanted to comfort him and he seemed to need her close. Seeing Sebastian so vulnerable... how could she not hold him and try to make things better?

It was too late, and she was too tired, to unravel the tangle of her emotions. She was just falling asleep when a knock on her door woke her. She wanted to ignore it, but a number of worrying possibilities had her rising from her bed to open it. Catherine should have been surprised to see Sebastian standing there, the candle in his hand illuminating his face and accentuating the lines about his mouth and the shadows beneath his eyes. She should have been surprised, but she wasn’t.

“Apologies,” he said. “I thought you might be asleep by now, but I... I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

“I am,” she assured him. When he didn’t move, staring down at her, she asked, “What is it? Sebastian?”

The candle flame wavered with his breath. “Can I... may I stay for a little while? Not for anything... just to be with you.”

She might have thought it an odd request, if not for the way he had held her in the sitting room. The closeness and the comfort.

Without a word she stepped back from the door. Her feet felt frozen and hurriedly she climbed back into bed, dragging up the covers to her chin, and watching him over the top of them. Sebastian set down the candle, the flame dancing in a draft from the windows, which the thin curtains did little to keep out.

“I didn’t realize things were so bad,” he said, waving a hand to encompass the room. “I would never have asked you here if I had known.”

She reminded him, “I have lived in worse. You forget, I wasn’t always a duchess. We were very poor after my father died. And I’m glad you did ask me, because it means I will be home for my son’s birthday.”

He had taken off his boots and was standing in his stockinged feet, breeches, and shirt sleeves. She thought he was probably cold, too, and before she thought about it too deeply, she said, “Come to bed. If you like we can talk here.”

He didn’t even hesitate before he climbed in beside her. “Thank you,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t know why it is, but when I am with you I feel calmer. And by God I need to be calm right now, Catherine.”

His words warmed her. She wanted to tell him that when she was with him she felt calmer too. And safer. He made her feel safe from the world at large, as if she had found the perfect harbor with him. As if he cared for her and would protect her.

They laid their heads on the pillows together and looked up at the canopy above. It was an old bed, probably as old as the house, and no doubt had many tales to tell. Although this would surely be one of the strangest.

“I wanted to tell you about my mother,” he said after a moment.

“Sebastian, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he said quietly. “I think I told Dodds once, when I was drunk, but no one else. Until now there was no one I wanted to tell. Is that,” he paused, sounding almost shy, “is that all right?”

She squeezed his fingers in hers. “Of course it is.” Catherine turned on her side, watching him. He did not look at her, his gaze on the canopy above, and he seemed to be finding the right words.

“She wanted to ride in the gig. She had made up some tale about a dragon, and that we had to escape it. She was like that. Full of fun and stories, full of life. Every day was a new and exciting chapter. Not always, of course. There were times when she was despondent, so low that my father feared for her. We crept about the house and dared not open the curtains. And then slowly, slowly, she would come back to us.”

“You loved her all the more because of her fragility.”

He turned to her and smiled. “Yes. You understand. I knew you would.” Then he sighed. “That day in the gig—. We called it the suicide gig because it was so high off the ground, and not very stable, but she loved it. She said it felt like we were flying. I always insisted on driving, although...” His eyes looked far away, and he was back there, living the memory. “Father never wanted her to drive, but sometimes I let her. Not this day. I said no, and she was annoyed with me, but I could tell she was in a particularly reckless mood. She kept insisting I drive faster. We went through the village in a flash and everyone stared. She was laughing, shouting for me to drive faster and faster, that the dragon would catch us. And then—.” He swallowed and looked up at the canopy. “She tried to take the reins from me, but I wouldn’t let her have them. I think there was a ditch, and it threw us off balance and we tipped, and then it was all over. She was killed and I survived.”

“Not your fault,” she said gently. “But you know that.”

“My father made it my fault. I tried to tell him that I was careful, that I kept hold of the reins, but he wouldn’t listen. He sent me away.”

They were silent. She wanted to say something that would make everything better, but what could she say? Besides, she thought that listening was enough. “Thank you,” she said softly, “for telling me.”

He wiped his eyes, and then cleared his throat. “I think I will have to stay here at Albury House,” he said. “My father...” He shook his head. “I will know more tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you, in case...” Again he turned his head to look at her and she met his eyes, waiting. “In case you need me,” he finished.

Catherine felt something inside her still. Did he mean...? What did he mean? “Need you?”

He reached for her hand, fumbling beneath the covers. “I meant if you need to talk to me. If you need my help. Winstanton is not the place for you, but I understand why you have to stay. I just wanted you to know I would be here if you ever needed me.”

He was being kind. Even though he wasn’t offering her the love she craved, he was thinking of her and offering her his support. No man had ever done that before.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Then, as he moved toward the side of the bed, “Please, stay.”

He glanced back at her and some of the old teasing was in his smile. “I was just going to blow out the candle.”

He did and she felt him settle back in beside her. Soon his breathing steadied, and she followed him into sleep.

At some point in the night she became aware of his strong arm about her waist, and his warm breath fanning her nape. His body was curved around hers, like a spoon. It felt perfect, and without another thought she drifted once more into sleep.

This time the sound of low voices woke her.

“Father? What are you doing here?” Sebastian was trying to whisper. He sounded shocked.

Startled into full wakefulness, Catherine raised her head. The room was still shadowy, but it must be morning because she could see a little. There was an older man standing beside the bed on Sebastian’s side. His hair looked almost the same color as Sebastian’s in this light, but she had a feeling it was white rather than fair. However, there was no mistaking those pale eyes. He glanced across at her, seeming to notice her for the first time, but immediately turned back to his son.

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asked Sebastian gently, in the voice one would use when talking to a distressed child. “You know you can always come to me.”

Sebastian didn’t seem to know what to say.

The earl went on. “I know it’s early, but I thought we could take a look at the wood.” He shifted from foot to foot. He seemed unable to keep still, his excitement making him jittery. “The trees are so tall now and I want you to see them.”

Sebastian sat up and, with a glance at Catherine, said, “Isn’t it a little early to be visiting the wood?”

“Nonsense,” his father retorted. “Things are always better when it’s early. The world is so much fresher, the day so new. I like to think that anything is possible.”

Sebastian hesitated and then seemed to make up his mind. “All right. Just let me get dressed. My clothes are...” He looked about him, as if remembering this wasn’t his room. “Come with me, Father,” he said firmly.

The earl gave Catherine one more puzzled glance before he followed his son docilely to the door. It closed after them.

Catherine flung herself back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. What on earth! Was this what Grimsley had meant? The earl appeared to believe his son was still a child. That gentleness in his voice...

Tears burned her eyes. This wasn’t the atrocious father she had imagined, the one who had banished his son and refused to have any contact with him for years. Sebastian had suffered all this time and now, faced with the reality of the situation, he must be very confused.

Catherine rubbed her eyes and yawned, and then unexpectedly she giggled. This was not the start to the day she had expected, but when it came to Albury House nothing seemed quite normal.

Quickly she sobered. Today she must go home. Jack would be waiting. He was probably worried she would miss his birthday, but as long as she arrived before midnight she would find some way to cheer him up. Perhaps they could have a picnic in his bedchamber? Something unexpected, something a little like Sebastian’s mother might have come up with.

She would never forget last night, how Sebastian had come to her and held her in his arms as they slept. It had felt right, like they could face anything together. Would she ever take advantage of his offer? Would she come to him if she needed a friendly ear? The thought of leaving Winstanton behind, even for a day or two, was soothing.

But at the same time she wondered, if she came to him, how could she bear leaving him again? Better not to come at all, if it would make her life at the castle even more lonely and difficult.

She found the bellpull and heard the summons jangling deep in the house. Once Maggie came, they must be on their way. Jack was her priority now, and she refused to think of anything else.